#to the hotel room she left behind
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Wanted to share my favorite passages from a book I read recently!!
Something about the way these were written gets me. Maybe it's the fact that I just felt connected to the book in general, but "Lonely children probably wrote the Bible" is such a LINE.
Book is "Lullabies for Little Criminals" by Heather O'Neil
#book#quotes#book quotes#<??? i guess?#anyway#fantastic book#each piece of imagery was vivid and real#I could see the scenes on every page#from the snow covered streets of the slums in montreal#to the dark closet in the youth penitentiary#to the hotel room she left behind#i could feel every fear#understand every shot of anger#appreciate every moment of happiness#its so goddamn good#read this book guys
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ough. what a fucking day it’s been
#mom called and told me i left my shoes at home 🥹#so i spent most of the day trying to sort that out#i ended up buying another pair and having them delivered to my hotel room#finally got to the hotel my grandparents are staying at and my grandpas card got STUCK in the parking meter#we couldn’t get it out my cousin had to come down we were all standing around staring at it#eventually we got it out#and then j spent an hour in my aunts hotel room with the rest of my family listening to my other cousin be a genuinely mean and unpleasant#person like she’s honestly vile#then everyone left to go to the rehearsal so i ended up getting left behind#got lost in the hotel#rode in an uber for the first time in my life#and now FINALLY i am curled up in my hotel room bed watching shitty ghost shows on tv#and i just ordered some food to be delivered in a bit#cause i haven’t even eaten today :’)#im so tired 🥹🥹#probably gonna eat my sesame chicken and pass out#it’s just a lot#snow.txt
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I wanted to make this post because we don’t see a lot of asexual characters in western media and despite him being from a hugely popular show (Seaside Hotel) you’re unlikely to know of his existence if you’re not from Denmark.
His name is Hjalmar Aurland and he’s one of the more sympathetic and realistic asexual characters I’ve seen. He lives in a time and place where asexuality as a concept doesn’t exist yet so he’s never labeled as such but rewatching the show made me realize that he acts exactly like the asexual people I personally know. Asexuality can mean a lot of things but his specific brand isn’t naive to sex nor is he repulsed by sex, sexual desire or thoughts simply doesn’t come naturally to him.
He can be convinced to have sex with his wife Helene but only if she appeals to their emotional bond. Just so you don’t get the wrong idea, he’s not being forced or emotionally blackmailed to sleep with her. It’s simply that he understands sex is a way to show emotional love too and he wants to express that love for Helene when it’s important to her, and seeing as sex isn’t unpleasant to him, just kinda boring, he’s willing to do that for her.
Unfortunately that isn’t enough for Helene and despite her love for Hjalmar she starts an affair with the dramatic and emotional actor Edward Weyse. He has a string of relationships, marriages and divorces behind him because despite what it may look like from the outside Edward doesn’t really want shallow sexual relationships. He just can’t help himself and keep falling in love with women left and right, fully and wholeheartedly, only to be dumped or dump them once the initial excitement has passed.
So Helene and Edward’s affair that was only meant to satisfy their carnal desires quickly becomes romantic. Helene feels torn between him and Hjalmar who she still loves and Edward understands the difficult situation they’re both in while also feeling jealous of Hjalmar. And Hjalmar? He doesn’t catch on for years. He’s not stupid but his brain just doesn’t jump to sex. He just assumes they’re good friends and why shouldn’t his wife be allowed to have friends, even male ones? Things get really complicated when Helene gets pregnant and she has to have sex with Hjalmar so he won’t wonder how it happened. Edward even has to join in on the seduction, reminding Hjalmar how much Helene loves him, even though it breaks Edward’s heart to do so.
But like I’ve said Hjalmar isn’t stupid. He saw the signs but chose to ignore them until one night when Helene accidentally says Edward’s name. It breaks the dam in Hjalmar’s denial and he has to face that deep down he always knew. Overcome by sadness and betrayal he wanders off into the night in nothing but his nightgown and gets a room at a different hotel where he can think in peace. Eventually he agrees to return to the first hotel with Helene and Edward and decides to take control of the situation.
He sits them both down and tells them that he understands that the three of them share a bond and that there are things he can’t really do for Helene so from now on he wants their relationship to be open and honest. He wants Helene and Edward to keep seeing each other and Edward is welcome in their house, but Hjalmar wants to be allowed to call Edward by his first name and makes it very clear that Helene and Edward’s children “belong to him” because he still thinks of himself as their dad and loves them as his own children. Both Helene and Edward agrees to it, though the emotional Edward is very flustered and confused by the acceptance and love he’s being shown by Hjalmar.
This is obviously a very tv drama situation but I was so stuck by how much Hjalmar acts like my asexual friends. Having a lover for your partner isn’t the most common solution but it’s an idea I’ve heard a lot of asexual people be open to under the right circumstances and of course that’s the most dramatic solution for a romantic tv drama.
Hjalmar is defined by so much more than his sexuality though. His main characteristic is his passion for social justice and equality, and other than some early show weirdness before they really cemented the characters, Hjamler is the only character who floats freely between the men and women. He’s just as likely to sit with the men as he is the women, often appearing in otherwise entirely female spaces. It’s never questioned or even brought up, not because he’s a “safe asexual” but because he cares and think their worries are as important as the men’s. He’s often called a pessimist by the other men when in reality he is determined to be hopeful and compassionate and spread the love he feels the world is lacking as WWII draws closer.
So yeah, I just wanted to share this sweet ace guy with you because you probably wouldn’t have known about him otherwise.
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spencer x reader where she kisses his forehead and he’s 🥹🥹
“Spencer, are you dead?”
Spencer ignores your question by accident. Heavy head in hand, he’s slowly sinking closer and closer to the hotel breakfast table to rest. His neck twinges with the effort it takes to stay up.
“Spencer,” you say more sharply.
His eyes track like the air is honey. He settles on your sluggishly while offering no greeting, tiredness pulling at him. “My eyes hurt,” he offers.
“Make you some tea.”
“Um, okay.” He’s disappointed when you leave, then dozing, face pressed to his desk as itchy eyes press along lids. It feels as though his eyelashes have turned inward.
You return with a cup. Spencer grabs it blindly, lifts his head to squint one eye open. “What?” he asks.
There isn’t tea in the cup. There are tea bags, two of them, wetted and leaking tan beige along the white china of the mug. Distinctly no tea. You must be tired too.
“They’re for your eyes, Spence. They’ll make your eyes hurt less. The caffeine restricts your blood vessels to calm the inflammation, and the tea itself soothes sore skin.”
“How do you know that?” he asks.
You rest a hand on his shoulder. “I read about it in a book of modern home remedies. It really works. Here, can you tip your head back?”
Spencer is very, very tired, but your voice is nice, your fingertips gentle against his neck, so he tips his head back. He doesn’t know how terrible he looks, having forgotten his untucked shirt, his rumpled sweater vest, his hair sticking up all over the place.
“Close your eyes,” you murmur.
Spencer shuts them.
“It’s cold,” you warn, “but it’ll feel nice.”
Spencer doesn’t care. He waits for you to move. The tea bags you place on his closed eyes feel cold and at first they sting just a touch, perhaps tea finding its way through his lashes, and he can’t confess to noticing a difference in soreness.
“Hey… what’s this? It looks like it hurts?” you ask, drawing a short line over the side of the bridge of his nose. There’s an indent there that feels like a bruise.
“I fell asleep at my desk with my glasses on,” he says. “They dug in.”
“You were up late, I’m guessing. Maybe you should go back to the room.”
“No, I can’t. I’ll be okay. Thank you for the… tea.”
Your hand rests tentatively against his cheek. He can’t open his eyes to see what you're feeling, and he doesn’t need to. There’s emotion to be felt in your slow strokes, how your thumb rests along his jaw as your nail scratches to the top of his ear, then behind the shell of it. It’s intimate enough to summon a different kind of tiredness. Exhaustion swapped for content. He could sleep in the curve of your palm all day.
“You’re welcome,” you say. “I’m gonna take them off for a second to check the damage.”
You take them. Your breath draws near.
A warmth presses to his forehead atop his left eyebrow. Spencer doesn’t know what it is until your nose graces just above it, and your lips part —it’s a kiss. You’re kissing him sweetly, your fingers sewing through his hair.
He peels his sore eyes open to look at you. You lean back as unhurried as you’d ferried forward, your hand cradling the nape of his neck.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” you ask.
Spencer stares up at you. In that moment, tired, aching, and balmed, he’s completely in love with you. You must see a little of it, your lips parting again in an unnamed emotion. It’s sheer luck that you’re the only one awake with him, because if any of his teammates saw the way he was looking at you they’d never let him forget it. And, he gets to see your reaction. Your partial smile.
“Did that help?” you ask.
You must mean the tea. “I feel better.”
“Yeah? Do you…” Your voice turns to cashmere, a thread of bemusement tugging at the corner of your mouth. “Would another one be okay?”
Spencer can only nod as you wrap your arms around him and position your mouth at the soft skin where his hair meets his forehead. When you kiss him again, his eyes flutter shut.
“You really need some help with your insomnia,” you murmur.
Spencer wonders if maybe you’d want to be that help. You must have melatonin in your kisses.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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NEED ME? ━ L.N
in which you’re on vacation with your ex boyfriend, the only man who’s been able to make you cum in recent times.
warnings; smut, unprotected sex, eavesdropping, cocky lando, ex lovers, conversations of masturbation and inability to orgasm, hair pulling, oral both receiving, overstimulation, praise, slight degradation, choking ect.
it was a throw away question. one lando probably shouldn’t have brushed off.
“you’re sure you’re fine with her coming?” max had asked so casually despite it being on this tip of his tongue for the last hour, eyes not lifting from his phone to see the way lando looked at him with raised eyebrows.
the driver said your name in confusion, even chuckled. “of course. why wouldn’t i be?” lando followed; a rhetorical question. he knew why max was asking such thing.
he watched as max shrugged, hummed mindlessly as if he didn’t have a response prepared.
“wouldn’t catch me wanting to share a roof with my ex,” max mused; putting his phone down and finally meeting lando’s eyes, glare more so, quick to put his hands up in defence. “just saying. something to think about,” max quickly added.
he had his best friends best interest at heart.
“so what? we tell her she can’t come?” lando scoffed, shaking his head as he leant back into the seat he was occupying. “we’re friends. hasn’t been an issue before.” lando dismissed.
and he wasn’t lying. you’d broken up almost a year ago, which was concerning at first considering you shared the same friend group. were friends before lovers.
but it worked, you’d remained friends. saw each other every now and then, in a group setting. you weren’t as close, obviously, but it wasn’t awkward.
“no i know,” max huffed; even rolling his eyes. “maybe two villa’s is something to think about, that’s all.” max shrugged once more. he wasn’t just thinking of lando, but you as well, his other dear friend.
the brit shook his head, not giving in to the worry max seemed to hold. “not necessary. no different than being at the same hotel.” lando concluded.
he’d seen you on nights out, had conversations with you on boats; you still got an invite and paddock pass to his home race.
there was nothing to worry about. if you two weren’t capable of being friends, such thing would’ve been exposed.
that’s what lando thought anyways.
standing on the deck of a ten bedroom villa in the south of france however, he realised maybe he should’ve considered max’s words more carefully.
small doses of you seemed to differ from your constant presence.
the break up was civil, lando was grateful for such thing. it’d been him who ended things, purely because he felt as if he couldn’t give you the time you deserve. it was a cop out, he feared, realising things were almost too good between the pair of you.
he wasn’t sure he could commit to putting you through a relationship where you wouldn’t get the time and treatment you deserved.
you took it well, an angel in fact; you wanted to hate him for it. but you couldn’t bring yourself too. selfless enough to put the peace of your mutual friends and him first. plus, losing him entirely left a bitter taste in your mouth.
you’d mourned the relationship, cried in private and cursed him to your best friend; and moved on. well, appeared to have.
it went unspoken, amongst the group; in front of you two at least, and between you two as well. not exactly something you were ready to laugh at yet. it just seemed to go… unaddressed.
until it was night two, dinner at a fancy restaurant with maybe a few too many bottles of wine meant piling into ubers to get back to the villa.
it sort of just happened, lando shuffling into the car behind you; leaving you in the middle of him and max; pietra on max’s lap and tom in the front.
your senses were consumed of him immediately, not able to avoid him considering you were practically pressed into his side in an attempt to give pietra enough room.
you glanced up at him once, smiling sheepishly to see his eyes already on you.
“you still wear it,” lando hummed casually, pinky finger reaching to brush over the bracelet he’d bought you a few months into your relationship, grazing your wrist as he did so.
your cheeks went a shade of pink at the observation, and if it weren’t for the fact you were wine drunk you probably would’ve made up an excuse as to why the piece of metal still found it’s way onto your wrist everyday.
“it’s my favourite,” you replied; glancing down at the piece as your hand moved to fiddle with it, small smile playing on your lips.
you missed the grin spread on lando’s face, a sense of pride fulfilling him as he recounted the stress it had caused him just picking out the damn bracelet. he was relieved to see you still wearing it, for some reason.
“i’ve got good taste.” lando bragged, eyes practically begging for yours to meet his again; smiling in amusement when they did as you nudged him.
you were suddenly even more aware of the closeness, the way your knees were touching, how his arm had stretched to rest over the headrest behind you. it was forced proximity sure, but an odd sense of familiarity that you hadn’t felt in a while was accompanying it.
“most of the time,” you mused, earning a nudge back ━ which had a giggle escaping you, one you attempted to hush; not wanting to draw attention to you and lando’s conversation.
if it did, the others in the car would’ve seen the way lando’s face lit up at the sound. he hadn’t made you laugh like that in months, he’d forgotten how good it felt to do so.
he’d almost forgotten how easy you were to be around. how easy it was to fall for you in the first place.
it was as if the universe was punishing him for such thing, because suddenly you were all he could think about once more.
that night, he was simply relaxing in his room; when you came waltzing in.
“p,” your voice hummed as you knocked; pushing the door open before lando could muster a response from inside. “do you have my top━ oh shit, sorry!” you’d cut yourself short when you found yourself standing in lando’s room. not pietra and max’s.
who was luckily just lounging on the bed in his joggers, not far from switching the lamp off and going to sleep.
but he had been shocked to see you enter his room in just a towel.
“you’re fine,” lando chuckled; having sit up. “we swapped rooms this morning… figured they should have a private bathroom,” lando explained; watching as your face softened in some sort of relief.
you hadn’t been crazy. regardless, still embarrassed; the redness on your cheeks clear as you nodded, cringing ever so slightly.
“right; my bad, sorry,” you repeated; not even wanting to imagine what else you could’ve walked in on.
lando simply chuckled, shaking his head as his eyes glanced over your figure just once; unable to help himself. having to swallow to not let himself think back to what he knows is underneath the towel keeping you modest.
“i’m gonna go,” you declared; sheepishly smiling as you turned on your heel; cringing once more now that you were out of sight, not hiding the urgency as you practically fled his room and slammed the door behind you.
lando hadn’t realised he was holding his breath until you left, body relaxing as he flopped back onto the mattress; a curse leaving his lips.
the next morning, you were there again. obviously. yet he couldn’t see you, nor could you see him. so technically he was eavesdropping; but it hadn’t been on purpose.
lando was out on his balcony first, which was above yours it appeared; mindlessly scrolling through his phone before arabella’s voice became audible, who you were rooming with this trip.
“since when did nicolas get ripped,” she’d posed to you, peering at the man who was dipping in the pool; your eyes following her gaze from where you both sat in deck chairs; smoothies in hand.
“he’s always been cute,” you pointed out; shrugging ever so slightly as you adjusted the sunglasses atop your head, rolling your eyes the moment you caught glance of arabella’s grin.
“and he’s always been into you.” arabella chimed, and you should’ve expected her to steer the conversation in such direction.
lando whoever, who hadn’t scrolled past the tik tok which was playing for the fourth time now, had not expected such words.
his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. you and nicolas? yeah right. you two were close friends, he knew that much. but nothing more. surely not.
“we’re friends bella,” you dismissed; shaking your head. slightly flirty friends as of recent, you’d admit. but just friends.
“so? doesn’t have to stay that way,” arabella had grinned ━ and lando felt betrayed; as if it should be him the pair of you were talking about. not nicolas.
“yes it does.” you laughed. “i’m not dating within the friend group ever again,” you spoke in such certainty it had lando confused, he didn’t think it faired that bad the first time.
but he also wasn’t opposed to your declaration. not that he was close to nicolas, in fact he probably knew him the least. but he was a brother of a childhood friend, who’d tagged along the last few trips. and lando had no complaints of the guy.
“don’t be silly,” arabella huffed. “i’m not saying fall in love with him. just that he could end the sex drought you’re stuck in.” arabella hummed, your eyes widening as you hit her softly.
“what? no one can hear us!” arabella spoke dramatically, and you rolled your eyes; no argument because you figured she was right.
however she wasn’t, because lando was still listening. and his interest had suddenly spiked.
“i am not… stuck in a sex drought,” you huffed; not sounding one bit convincing as you glanced at the pool. “men just suck. i’ve given up on having an orgasm.” your words were dramatic, and playful, but still a bit of truth to them.
suddenly lando felt guilty for overhearing, or purposefully listening, but he couldn’t help but be intrigued.
your words made no sense to him; considering nights with you would always lead to multiple orgasms for both of you.
and it wasn’t as if you were short on options.
“gotta do everything yourself these days,” arabella sighed out dramtically in agreement; but she had a boyfriend, and your friendship with the girl wasn’t one for many secrets; you knew she was only ‘relating’ out of sympathy.
truth was; since lando, nothing or no one could compare. not even your own damn fingers.
“can’t even get myself off.” you huffed out almost ashamed, and you only whined when you met arabella’s shocked eyes and slack jaw.
lando suddenly felt intrusive, and flustered from the idea of you touching yourself; one he’d grown familiar with due to long distance. suddenly he was standing and ready to walk himself inside in his room.
“is your body like… broken?” arabella sounded bewildered, and you could only huff.
you’d blame it on stress, or any of your medication if it was possible; you’ve heard stories, knew there could be many reasons as to why your sex drive and urges have suddenly changed. none aligned with your circumstances however.
“just deprived i think,” you sighed.
lando needed to get his mind off your sexual need’s immediately, deciding to go on a run with max to occupy himself. to get you off his mind.
and it worked, until he got back to the villa. hot and out of breath, he found himself in the kitchen ━ pouring a glass of water with ice, eyes wandering out the fold out doors that exposed the luxurious back yard. decking, sun lounges, a pool; and his closest friends.
and his ex girlfriend. in a little bikini. with another man’s hands on her.
he couldn’t help but scoff at the sight, you resting on your stomach as nicolas rubbed sunscreen into your back ━ watching as you grinned and spoke up to him momentarily. you were flirting, he knew that look.
his takeaways from his… eavesdropping, was that you didn’t plan to pursue nicolas. so what the fuck was this?
he wanted to laugh, you were going to seek answers to your problems in nicolas? he almost felt offended; if you needed good sex so badly he felt as if he was the obvious candidate.
“careful mate, you’re staring,” max’s words snapped lando out of his thoughts; causing him to glare at the man quickly, bringing his glass to his lips, unaware that his grip was so tight his knuckles were white.
max’s amusement only escalated, eyebrows raising as he chuckled quietly.
“i wasn’t.” lando murmured, leaning back against the counter. “just didn’t know that was a thing,” he tried to shrug off; eyes returning to where you now sat up, rubbing sunscreen into nicolas’s back now.
had he been oblivious to the pair of you?
“i don’t think it is.” max shrugged, following lando’s gaze momentarily, not overanalysing the sight. everyone was friends here.
lando looked to max in doubt, to check if he was being serious.
“does it matter if it is?” max questioned, sassily too, almost a challenge; and lando was quick to scoff ━ mustering up the best chuckle he could to appear as unbothered as he wanted to be.
“no,” the mclaren driver answered almost too quickly, clearing his throat slightly. “i hope it is. would be a good match,” he overcompensated; left to only flip max off as he chuckled and hummed unconvincingly.
“whatever you say,” max mused.
lando wished he was being honest, but as time passed by it became quite clear he was lying.
dinner that night you were sat at opposite ends of the long table, like usual; regardless, lando’s eyes were trained on you for the majority of the night.
you and nicolas of course. who’d snagged the seat next to you.
forced to watch as you shared food, laughed and chattered away in your own little world.
lando felt sick from the sight; that used to be him. should be him. and while he could only blame himself for it not being him, it was a cruel reminder of what he’d lost.
he felt utterly helpless however, because there was nothing he could do.
he couldn’t even express his dismay to anyone as he watched nicolas help you in the car. left to watch as you both giggled and stumbled up to the villa ahead of the group.
he wanted to intervene, to make his presence known to hopefully at least make it awkward. but he couldn’t bring himself too.
not when you’d been such an angel in the breakup, made things so easy for him from the start of the relationship to now. it just wouldn’t be fair to ruin this for you.
even though it was all he wanted to do.
he noted how you two were first off to go ‘sleep’ that night, halfway through the movie that had been put on. and he suddenly wished he’d downed a few more glasses of red at the restaurant, maybe then he wouldn’t have the capacity to brainstorm up everything and anything you and nicolas could be doing tonight.
he wasn’t going to say it was what kept him up, tossing and turning and unable to fall asleep; but it definitely played on his mind.
it was starting to make sense to him at least; he hadn’t been around you without distractions since the breakup. it suddenly became clear how helpful those distractions are.
3:42 the clock read.
lando hadn’t gotten a second of shut eye, and after two hours of laying there; he conceded. deciding to get a glass of water as if that would be the solution to all his problems.
instead he was just met with the problem itself; you.
surprise, surprise. nicolas was not the answer to your prayers.
you were already keen to tell arabella ‘i told you so’ when you returned to your room. having spent the night in nicolas’.
he was a nice guy, until the clothes came off.
it was nothing new, you on top; he came. you didn’t. he then tried to get you to finish with his fingers, and you faked an orgasm when it became clear he wasn’t finding your clit any time soon.
your frustrations had now multiplied, it felt pathetic. you were ready to give up.
you snuck out the moment he fell asleep, in the kitchen to get a glass of water and for a few moments to yourself.
��shouldn’t be surprised you’re up,” lando made his presence known, having debated running back to his room when he noticed you occupying the kitchen.
typical.
“needed a drink,” you hummed sheepishly; and for some reason when your eyes met his you felt intimidated; as if you needed refuge, turning back around to the fridge to fill your cup up with ice.
maybe it was because you were already sexually frustrated. or the fact you were stood with your ex boyfriend after sneaking out of another guys room.
“same,” lando hummed; moving behind you to grab a glass for himself, and you could feel him waiting behind you as you poured water into the glass.
“nice night?” lando asked when you moved aside so he too could fill his glass, not looking at you for the time being so you wouldn’t decipher the motives in the question. he didn’t need you to know how concerned he was with your night.
you nodded quickly, humming as you still had a mouth full of water, leaning against the counter now.
“yeah, yeah,” you spoke; pursing your lips. it had been. until it wasn’t. “restaurant was lovely,” you smiled; shifting on your feet slightly as you took in his appearance, even in the dull lightly.
his messy curls that look slept on, slightly tired eyes. he looked cozy.
lando nodded, so much on the tip of his tongue. maybe if it was a different hour of the day he’d have the common sense to not speak his mind, but he was slightly sleep deprived and going insane from his own thoughts.
“you know my balcony is above yours,” lando told you; randomly, your eyebrows furrowing ━ coughing out a slight laugh. you weren’t sure where this conversation was going to lead, your guess was awkward silence. not him blurting out something… irrelevant.
it took a few moments for it to dawn on you, the slight curve of lando’s lips into a smirk causing your eyes to widen in realisation.
you’d only been out on the balcony once today.
“oh my god,” you mumbled; cringing as he chuckled, shaking his head ever so slightly. “shut up!” you whisper yelled, leaning forward to whack his arm, which only had him laughing once more as his hands flew up in defence.
“i wasn’t eavesdropping! i swear,” lando mused, shaking his head as your eyebrows raised.
“great, so you just happened to hear all about my sad sex life,” you huffed, and lando couldn’t help the small smile that was refusing to leave his lips; always having adored the sight of you flustered and sheepish.
it didn’t help, the sight of you wearing what seemed to be just an oversized shirt. reminiscent of how his shirts would drape over your body.
“yeah,” lando confirmed sympathetically, causing you to whack him again; no force in your actions as you groaned audibly.
you couldn’t think of anyone you’d rather not hear that conversation; ever so grateful you hadn’t been completely honest with arabella.
you would die of humiliation if you’d told her how you compared every man to lando, how you found no one was able to make you feel anywhere near as good.
but regardless, there was a level of comfort. you trusted the man in front of you.
“nicolas though hm?” lando spoke light heartedly, reminding you of the man you’d just been in bed with.
was it bad he’d slipped your mind completely? having forgotten that he was who sparked such conversation this morning.
“did he make you cum?” his follow up question had you dumbfounded, having not expected such blunt words as your lips parted. “can i ask that?” lando added with a reassuring laugh. but you knew that look in his eyes.
they were darker than usual, he was staring at you intently; practically begging you to step closer.
“no,” you cleared your throat, opting for honesty. “he didn’t.” you huffed, eyes avoiding his for a moment as if you were ashamed. as if it was your fault.
the relief lando felt was pathetic, not that he wished a bad time upon you. or anyone for that matter. but god it felt like the door had been swung right open for him.
he was right; of course nicolas wasn’t going to do it for you.
“i know you can make yourself cum.” lando chimed, pushing himself off the counter and taking a couple steps towards you; ridding any distance as he stood in front of you. “used to be able to at least, seen it myself,” he told you as if you could forget.
you swallowed intently, the tension now almost suffocating. sleeping with an ex was something you swore against; recipe for disaster. but it seemed awfully appealing when it looked like lando did right now.
your cheeks were pink, thinking about the countless times you’d gotten yourself off on facetime calls with the driver, purely because neither of you could wait any longer to see one another again.
“not the same anymore.” your voice was barely above a whisper, it didn’t need to be; not when he was only centimetres away, looking down at you as if he was ready to ravish you.
lando’s eyebrow raised at that, eyes flickering across your face.
it wasn’t the same, you’d worked out the hard way. you only relied on your own devices when you had no other choice; and with that would be lando on the of phone with words of encouragement and direction.
“what, need me to talk you through it again?” his words were teasing as his hand moved to cup your cheek; your stomach turning at the thought. at the fact he seemed like he knew that would do it for you.
you let out a slight breath, shaking your head but you held little confidence in doing so.
“need me to touch you?” he added on, offer sounding almost like a request; words so hushed you could’ve missed them. but you didn’t, you heard him loud and clear.
his eyes were pouring into yours as if he pitied you, but the smirk on his face showed he wanted nothing more than to be the one to solve your problems.
you didn’t even need to think about it, no ifs or buts entering your mind; nothing could make the idea of him seem unappealing.
“please,” you mumbled; eyes pouring up into his, watching as a wicked grin spread on his features; one that made your knees weak.
it was all lando needed to hear, lips pressing against yours in an instant; it coming back to the pair of you quickly. feeling so natural, the way your body melted into his touch; the way your lips moved against each other.
your hands finding a grip on his shirt as his spread across your hips.
lando didn’t waste any time; he wanted to make you cum.
he wasn’t sure if it was because it seemed like a challenge, or because he missed you; but god did he want nothing more than to make you feel good:
his knee pushed between your thighs first, your legs spreading; immediately aware of the finger he was tracing up your inner thigh.
as much as lando missed the feeling of your lips against his, he loved watching you react to every touch and feeling. pulling away but not creating much distance as his fingers brushed over your clothed folds.
you took a sharp breath, shifting your weight to lean against the counter as the anticipation built within, eyes locked on his as he teasingly brushed your clothed clit as well.
he could feel your soaked panties, a wet patch that you knew wasn’t there when you first entered the kitchen.
“you know it doesn’t make sense,” lando started speaking through a breath; his fingers pushing your panties aside with ease, swiping through your folds; spreading your wetness to your clit. “because you’re always so easy for me baby,” he practically cooed as he slipped two fingers inside you.
your jaw fell slack, hips pushing against his hand lightly as you whimpered; cheeks hinting at his taunting words which you’d almost forgotten about and how crazy they drove you.
his free hand returned to your cheek, cupping the side of your face and adjusting your head to ensure you were looking up at him; his head tilting ever so slightly as he gazed down at you.
“so responsive,” he added in a hum; looking incredibly smug, thumb settling on your clit ━ and the moan that escaped you as he circled your sensitive bud had lando’s jaw clenching. he’d missed your pretty sounds.
he was toying with you, teasing. his fingers moving slowly, thumb only lightly circling your clit. yet you hadn’t felt this good in fucking forever, face contorting in pleasure proving such thing.
lando could get lost in the sight, not able to help himself from wanting to give you more.
his fingers gradually picked up the pace, thumb applying more pressure now; but it was when he curled his fingers, grazing that spot he never failed to miss, that you hadn’t been able to find, that a slightly louder moan escaped you.
“ah, ah,” lando hushed you; tapping your cheek lightly. “gotta be quiet baby,” lando hummed through heavy breaths, hating that he had to ask such thing of you.
he wanted to hear you lose control, hear you scream his name like you had countless of times. but he’d hate to be interrupted and have the current sight cut short.
you whined quietly at the request, biting down on your bottom lip as you tried to keep any noise at bay; knowing you had no choice. waking anyone up would be less than ideal.
but somehow, the thought of being caught was the least of your concerns.
your back arched when he added a third, thumb still expertly playing with your clit; your quiet whimpers and moans were growing in volume once more.
lando took matters into his own hands, the hand cupping your cheek shifting so he could tap his pointer finger on your bottom lip; and he had to shut himself up this time as you invited two digits past your lips without second thought.
“fuck,” he mumbled out; eyes fixated on the way you looked up at him with his fingers in your mouth; so similar to the sight of when you’d suck him off. his hard on was almost painful.
your moans were muffled now, thankfully, as your hips pushed forward once more; slowly losing control over your body as the pleasure continued to build.
you’d made a mess on your thighs, his fingers working in and out of you perfectly; beginning to curl his fingers repeatedly had your eyes rolling back.
“yeah, right there baby?” lando mumbled; despite you unable to respond. “gonna make a mess on my fingers yeah? think you deserve to cum,” he smirked ━ and if you could’ve you would’ve cried out, nodding quickly at his words.
your stomach tightened, it was sudden; more sudden than you remembered, lando having caught on to the fact you were cumming before you did; squeezing his fingers as you came undone.
his body was practically holding you up against the counter, vision going white for a moment as your muffled moans filled the air, hips bucking involuntarily once more.
lando wanted to curse himself for ever depriving himself of such thing, watching as you shook in front of him; fingers moving to let you ride out your high, until he was pulling them from your panties, and mouth respectively.
your eyes fluttered open, nothing but awe as you gazed up at him through hooded eyes; panting ever so lightly.
he was smiling cockily, if he didn’t know the root of your issue before, he did now. the way you needed him.
you couldn’t even crush his inflating ego, not when he’d made you cum so hard in a matter of minutes; giving you what you’d been chasing the past few months.
he was about to kiss you again, after moments of admiring your face; but the sound of a door shutting had the moment ruined, reminding both you and him of where you are and what you’re meant to be.
definitely not meant to be caught having a moment at 4 in the morning.
lando was quick in taking a few large strides across the kitchen, positioning himself on the other side of the island as you quickly tugged your shirt down and ran your hand through your hair.
when pietra walked in, it was an innocent sight. plenty of distance between the pair of you, not enough lights on to expose your flushed cheeks or lando’s glistening fingers.
you pretended to be surprised as you brought your glass to your lips, leaning against the counter because your legs were still shaky, lando nodding towards the blonde.
“can’t sleep?” lando hummed in question.
“need to fill my water up.” pietra nodded with a smile, eyes flickering between you in suspicion for a brief moment as she realised this was almost an awkward thing to walk in on. you and him.
if only she knew.
you nodded in agreement, raising your glass of water as lando let out a small chuckle.
“if you need a late night snack, the donuts are great,” lando spoke again; your eyes falling onto him, and you were sure your face was bright red as you watched him bring his fingers to his lips; licking them clean.
you coughed on air, playing it off as if your water went down the wrong way; pietra oblivious as she nodded with a smile.
“i’ll keep that in mind.”
the smirk he’d sent you was sickening, and with that he was saying good night and excusing himself.
lando ended up needing a cold shower that night, with his own hand and images of you burned into his mind.
you were hoping your head would be clear when you woke up, but it was only more scrambled.
you’d gotten what you wanted, was it greedy to only want more?
“good night?” arabella had questioned you, sitting next to you on the long dining table; bowls of cereal in front of pair of you; and the smirk on her face was quite telling.
except she didn’t know the half of it.
“yeah, yeah it was good,” you hummed; eyes shifting to the other end of the table; where lando sat, already staring at you. the mischievous glint in his eye had you looking away quickly, the sly smirk not helping you in trying to play it cool to arabella.
you knew he was listening.
“did your… problem get solved?” arabella attempted to ask without outing you, so oblivious to the fact lando could easily piece together her words.
your eyes narrowed towards her, as if to say ‘shut up.’ which she only looked back at you with wide eyes, finding herself quite discrete.
“well?” arabella pushed, whisper yelling.
“yes,” you huffed; in hopes she would shut up, you could feel lando’s eyes burning into you. the man who solved your problem, unbeknownst to arabella who thought it was nicolas who was responsible.
“ah! how exciting,” arabella grinned; standing up and taking her bowel to the kitchen, only then did you let your eyes fall back on the british driver.
who looked oh so amused, you had to flee; following in the girls steps.
it set the tone for the next few days; longing looks, tempting smirks and lingering touches.
you couldn’t bring yourself to go out of your way and seek more of him; despite how much you wanted it. nicolas had been forgotten about, failing to explain your sudden interest and now lack of in the guy.
lando was all you could think about. how couldn’t you? he’d fingered you in the kitchen, bringing you to a mind blowing orgasm you’d been craving; one you hadn’t experienced since him. and once again, it had gone unaddressed.
the tension was clear; you got peace from the fact he was in the same boat as you.
you hated that he’d walked off so smug that night and you yourself had nothing to brag about, left to accept the fact that you needed him. had missed him.
and he knew it.
so maybe you were tactical, every day the dresses got shorter. bikini’s got smaller. you wanted to see him squirm.
which was easy.
it was ridiculous, how often you felt his gaze burning into you; feeling the heat on your skin from such thing. you’d blame the hot summer sun for the the constant blush on your cheeks but in reality it was him.
made to feel better by the way his jaw was constantly clenched. hands fiddling with one another. leg bouncing impatiently because he was furious with the fact you were no longer his, he couldn’t whisk you away and tear your clothes off like he wanted too.
left to simply stare. dwell on the facts. wish that he somehow gets a moment alone with you again.
there were sliding doors.
two minutes alone underneath the cabin on a boat, both trying to find something to drink. he swore you were about to kiss him before max came bouncing down the stairs.
you’d all gone out one night, somehow it was only you two left at the bar. lando was convinced this was it, he was going to drag you off to the bathroom.
but then arabella appeared, demanding shots.
you’d never admit that you went out to the kitchen most nights, hoping he too would be awake at such ridiculous hour again.
you tried not to get frustrated, even with the knowledge there was only a couple days till you’d be flying back home to reality.
finally however, you got lucky.
lando had gone on a run; unbeknownst to you, who had slept in.
you rejected plans of going to a winery, choosing for a day by the pool to save energy to go out tonight like planned.
your group of friends had attempted to protest your decision, but you insisted. bribed them with a promise you would do some baking while they were out.
that’s where lando found you.
stood in the kitchen. of course.
tiny bikini. typical.
and no one else in sight. lovely.
���smells fucking amazing.” lando hummed; slightly breathless as he sauntered into the kitchen, moving to stand against the island ━ a safe distance between the pair of you.
the voice had startled you, jumping slightly as you turned around.
you smiled appreciatively at his words, attempting to not stare at his exposed torso. tanned skin, beads of sweat decorating it. his muscles only more prominent as he crossed his arms, flexing invitingly.
“would feel bad letting such a big kitchen go to waste,” you explained; shrugging ever so slightly as your eyes returned to the chocolate chip cookies you were currently making. refuge from the sight of him.
he chuckled, and nodded; not that you saw. but his eyes didn’t leave you.
he should go up to his room.
“who’s home?” he couldn’t help but ask, feet planted. he wasn’t going anywhere.
the question had you facing what you were trying to ignore; the fact it was just the pair of you. it was dangerous knowledge.
“just us,” you spoke through a breath. if the tension wasn’t clear before, those two words had it falling upon the pair of you like bricks.
lando nodded once more, lips pursing. you were so tempting. this was what he’d been hoping for. he was impressed he even had the mental strength to consider running off. hiding in his room till your friends returned.
that idea didn’t last long though. moving towards you, you heard him approaching; his presence was demanding.
he was behind you, causing you to freeze. breath stuck in your throat.
“you’re driving me crazy.” he’d whispered, despite no fear of anyone overhearing; and you had to shut your eyes for a brief moment when his lips grazed your ear, ensuring you knew just how in reach he was.
you found some solace in his words, confirming your suspicions. reassuring to know you weren’t the only one going crazy. the only one feeling nostalgic.
“how so?” you played dumb, bottom lip rolling through your teeth ━ regardless your head tilted aside as his lips grazed your skin again, his breath fanning your skin.
you heard him grunt, and it would’ve made you giggle if you weren’t fighting off the urge to jump his bones.
“don’t act like it’s not on purpose.” lando huffed, hands moving to play with the fiddling strings of your bikini, fingertips only just brushing your skin.
you had to draw in another breath, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable. you needed some sort of power, just a physical reminder that he too was struggling despite his admission.
so you turned on your feet, eyes flickering up to his as you shrugged your shoulders; breaths slightly irregular from the closeness. right in front of you. trapping you against the counter.
“know you haven’t forgotten that all you need to do is use your words if you want me to fuck you,” lando spoke before you could, oozing cockiness despite his wandering eyes and tense jaw; his patience wearing thin.
once more you were cornered in the kitchen by his attractive frame and blunt words that had your thighs squeezing together.
“goes both ways,” you chimed; worried if you didn’t speak now you wouldn’t get a word in. you knew how this went; it was only a matter of time till you were a mess in his hands.
his eyebrows raised, he even scoffed; if he wasn’t so eager for you to go on he would’ve reminded you it didn’t.
lando always had a kink for making you beg.
“i already got what i wanted,” you hummed; hands moving to rest on his toned abdomen, running down and across the muscles before finding the waistband of his joggers. “something you want?”
your teasing tone had lando remembering just how worked up you got him, how frustrating and almost annoying you were. how annoying it was to deal with your antics that was.
“the other night was more than enough for me baby,” lando mused; not cracking, even with your hands on his body. “always look so pretty when you cum.”
you wish his words didn’t have such a visible effect on you. how flustered you got clear by the way the blood rushed to your cheeks, even while you stood here playing with the waistband of his pants.
it was pathetic; neither of you wanting to crack first, wasting precious time because you both really thought you were above this.
able to be friends. exes who wouldn’t go back to each other.
you knew he wasn’t entirely lying; of course you could remember how you were gifted a man who got off from getting you off. how he’d spent nights with his head just buried between your thighs. making you cum countless of times before he got his dick wet.
“cold shower treat you well?” you huffed; not letting him get away with such thing. as if he wasn’t standing here with the need to fuck you.
he smirked at your words, your attitude more so; the playful banter having been something he’d missed. something that wasn’t the same since things became platonic.
“did the job.” he laughed, hands still ghosting over your hips. “jealous i can still get myself off?” he couldn’t help but chuckle; and your jaw dropped at him using confidential information against you.
your hands still on his stomach, whacking lightly which he only chuckled harder at; and if you weren’t embarrassed you’d be taking in the way the smile was lighting up his face.
“that was not something you’re meant to use against me,” you practically grumbled; eyes narrowing up at him and he practically awed at the sight, adoring eyes and all as his hand moved to cup your cheek. his grin not matching the sympathetic eyes.
“i’m sorry,” he mumbled jokingly as he leant forward; not giving you time to reply as he put the both of you out of your misery, lips connecting with yours.
it wasn’t what you’d both expected, the kiss to finally ease the tension that had been building ever since a few nights ago in the same spot; the kiss was slow. passionate and deep, but not rushed.
it didn’t last long; but was nice in the moment however. to feel him.
the urge to feel more however was soon too prominent.
your hands that had linked behind his neck soon tangled in his hair. the grip he had on your waist soon moved to your ass, squeezing the flesh within his hold which had you leaning into him.
he lazily dragged you back with him, his back hitting the kitchen island as he practically held you against his body; lips moving in sync.
you felt his hard on with the movement, contained by his joggers; your own excitement jumping as your hands left his hair to snake down between your bodies; palming him.
the groan against your lips only motivated you; and while you wish you could do what he does, stand here and tease him; you were too keen to get your hands on him. to hear more of those pretty sounds he makes.
so you simply smiled up at him as you pulled away; bending down and settling on your knees; hands tugging his pants and underwear down with you; revealing his cock.
his breaths were a lot heavier as he watched you, leaning back against the counter ever so slightly, gaze fixed downwards as a small smirk tugged on the corner of his mouth.
he hissed as your small hand wrapped around him; thumb swirling the precum ━ you loving every bit of knowing how turned you got him from just a few words and the sight of you.
he wouldn’t ever deny it either; no one did it for him like you did.
“look so pretty on your knees,” lando praised; eager to gain back some control, despite knowing he’d do anything you asked of him right now; your hand feeling much than his did the other night.
you were eager to continue to please, so you didn’t waste any time in taking him in your mouth. it was as if he knew such thing, by the way his eyes were peering down at you.
his head fell back at the sensation, one he’d missed ━ arms flexing as he gripped the counter; a few curses strung together tumbling from his lips as you practically took him in whole first go.
his tip hitting the back of your throat did little to deter you. it was natural, as if you’d done such thing only a few days ago; not months ━ second nature as your tongue swirled his cock.
your eyes remained up, looking through your lashes as your head bobbed ━ knees uncomfortably shifting against the tiles but it was the last thing on your mind with the beautiful man above you.
taking in the way his abs flexed, neck strained and lips parted as you sucked him off ━ gagging occasionally but both of you knew that was no issue.
“missed this fucking mouth,” lando grunted, hand moving to tangle in your hair; both to keep it out of your way and to just have some sort of hold on you.
he was blindsided with pleasure, more than he remembered he’d be. your bikini did little to leave much to the imagination from his angle, watching as your breasts bounced with every movement. matched with your doe eyes, his jaw was slack.
you hummed as he tugged your hair lightly, the sensation one you always welcomed; and he too was reminded of such as he felt the vibrations around him. tugging again with a little more force.
his groans were gradually becoming more regular, hips bucking once or twice ━ pushing his cock further down your throat each time.
“just like that baby, always so good for me,” lando breathed, eyes screwing such momentarily as his head fell back once more.
you almost whined at the vision, wanting to scramble to your feet and kiss at his skin, feel all over him.
and he’d be happy to let you, he was hesitant in having you get him off first regardless; you hadn’t left much room for argument with good reason.
but right now he had no complaints, moans growing slightly louder in volume ━ grip tightening on the strands of your hair. he didn’t give you any warning as he came, but you didn’t need any.
the way he twitched in your mouth, you didn’t miss a beat ━ swallowing all you could; revelling in the way your name left his lips.
your mouth left him with a pop, gazing up at him to meet his adoring eyes, staring down at you as if you were the greatest thing to grace the earth.
because he did think of you as such. you continued to amaze him, he didn’t grow immune to such thing; just had managed to avoid the fact for a while now.
you stood to your feet, relieving your knees of the discomfort; a coy smile plastered on your lips at him panting and flustered.
you felt even, for the other night; reassured you weren’t the only one in need.
lando couldn’t complain either, couldn’t throw a playful comment towards you ━ not when you stood there with messy hair and swollen lips. all he could think about was turning you into a whiny mess, desperate to have you at his mercy again.
it was clear neither of you knew what to say in the few moments of silence; shamelessly admiring the other, catching your breaths. it wasn’t awkward however.
you were happy to feel his lips on yours once more ━ his hands not shy in wandering your body this time, sliding down to your thighs and hoisting you up immediately.
he was swift in turning around and placing you on the counter, stood between your legs as he hummed against your lips.
it wasn’t until his mouth ducked to your neck, then your collar bones, becoming harder to ignore as your head fell back, growing hot from the kisses he placed where-ever he could, that you spoke up.
“should go to your room,” you managed to get out, watching him through hooded eyes as he simply grabbed the material of your bikini to let your breasts fall free, kissing at the skin of them afterwards.
it wasn’t that you were worried on being walked in on, you had the house to yourselves for at least a couple more hours. you knew that. more so just the knowledge this wasn’t your house.
his eyebrows raised as he looked back up at you, hand sprawling over your stomach as he pushed you back slightly; your body blindly following the suggestion as you leant back on your hands.
“i paid for this villa baby, if i wanna fuck you on the counter i will,” lando murmured, hands spreading your thighs further apart; putting you in no position to argue you.
how could you? his words sounded like a promise, one you could only hope he would keep.
you nodded pathetically, suddenly aware of his hands resting high up on your inner thighs; suddenly aware of your own arousal and need for him.
he discarded of your bikini bottoms with ease, admiring your frame for a few moments as his hand reached to squeeze your breast, nipple rolling through his fingers moments later.
“lando,” you breathed; almost in warning, almost a whine. your legs were still spread and you were already resisting the urge to squirm. your patience non existent.
he only grinned, a slight chuckle maybe as his hands pushed your legs further apart once more.
“i got you baby,” lando hummed. “always so needy for me, you need me yeah? don’t you?” he spoke teasingly, tone painfully sweet as his fingers traced over your soaked folds.
you wanted to curse his obvious teasing, point out how you hadn’t been so cruel. but you knew it’d be no use.
you were scared to admit such thing, huffing as your hips bucked upwards momentarily.
“want to hear you say it.” lando grunted when he realised you weren’t planning on speaking; pinching your clit to get his point across, a strangled moan escaping you as your lips parted, falling into submission.
“need you.” you whined almost shamefully, head falling back as if the ceiling would offer you refuge from his hard stare. “please,”
your pleas were always music to his ears, so much so he debated with the idea of teasing you some more; to draw more whines and please out of you. but the way you were spread for him, so ready; he couldn’t help himself any longer.
you yelped at the sudden feeling of his mouth on your clit, sucking at your sensitive bud; not expecting such feeling as your eyes rolled back.
his hands manoeuvred your thighs to place your legs over his shoulders; giving him full access to your core as sweet moans started to escape you.
“o-oh my god,” you whimpered; eyes flickering to the sight of his head between your thighs ━ back arching as his tongue swiped through your folds, assaulting your cunt relentlessly as if he was starved.
you’d been reminded of how good his fingers were; so much so you hadn’t even considered getting his tongue again.
his large hands were squeezing your thighs, a bruising grip to keep you in place; eating you out expertly.
“lando━ feels so good,” you moaned as if that wasn’t clear by the way your hips were pushing against his hold. your right hand left the counter, moving to tangle in his curls, something to grab.
his blue eyes ventured to the sight of you momentarily, and he groaned into your cunt as he took note of the way your face was contorting in pleasure, how your body flinched with every move he made.
whimpers and moans were free falling, lando enjoying every single one ━ glad you could be as loud as you wanted, as loud as he made you.
you knew you were approaching your high shamefully fast, but had little room to care when you’d failed to reach it so much recently.
lando knew your body too well, could tell by the way you were tugging on his curls and creating more force against the hold he had on your thighs that you were about to cum.
he wanted you to let go, tongue flicking and nose bumping your clit ━ you orgasmed hard, suddenly; cumming on his tongue with what almost sounded like a squeal.
he didn’t stop, letting you ride out your high ━ before pulling away, wiping at the corners of his mouth.
you were mistaken however in thinking you would have time to catch your breath, not getting a word out before lando was moving only one leg off his shoulder and sliding two fingers into your entrance suddenly; thumb landing on your sensitive clit.
your body almost didn’t know how to react, falling back onto your hands that found the counter you sat upon once more to stabilise yourself.
“s’ too much,” you whimpered ━ legs attempting to squeeze shut, failing with the angle caused by one leg draped over lando’s shoulder, which allowed his fingers to hit deep within you.
lando hummed in amusement, knowing how much you could take. knowing you always said that, just to whine and cry out if he were to stop.
“too much?” he mocked; fingers curling and your body jerking. “want me to stop?” he breathed; smirking oh so cockily because he knew the answer. chuckling as you shook your head ‘no’ incredibly quickly.
“didn’t think so,” he huffed; thumb speeding up on your clit, rolling over the bud continuously. it was pure ecstasy, the overstimulation overwhelming your entire body.
his breaths were heavy as he admired you, the way you were shaking beneath him. reminiscent of how easily he could you like this, of the nights he made you cum four or five times before fucking you.
it killed him he didn’t have the time to do so again. but he couldn’t possibly complain right now.
“making a mess baby, all over my fingers,” lando spoke; the filthy sounds of his fingers moving in out of you filling the room, and you weren’t sure you’d last much longer when he entered a third. “so greedy. gonna cum again aren’t you?”
it was like he was three steps ahead of your body, leaving you to whine and nod pathetically.
“yeah? that what you want? to cum again?” lando spoke once more; watching as your head fell back, your eyes screwing shut and it satisfied him to see you feel the pleasure he was giving.
he was hard again, purely from his name sounding so fucking incredible as you moaned and moaned, from the perfection you were.
his hand grasping your cheek had your eyes flying open as lando tilted your head forwards to look at him, eyebrows raised in expectance.
“words pretty girl,” lando reminded, chin still between his thumb and index finger ━ struggling to focus on him with the numbing pleasure that was causing tears to form.
you nodded, before processing what he’d said. words. right.
“please lando,” you gasped; eyes pouring into his, pleading with his as your back arched and legs shook. you weren’t sure you’d be able to stop yourself. “gonna cum,” you whined.
lando felt it had been far too long to be cruel, so he simply hummed in appreciation; smiling lazily as he pushed you over the edge as he curled his fingers once more.
your vision went white, screaming his name as you came again, all over his fingers.
lando’s bottom lip rolled through his teeth at the sight, able to take in every moment, no restraint for either of you and it felt fucking amazing.
his hands gently moved your leg off his shoulder, stood between them as his hands massaged your thighs comfortingly, giving you a few moments to come down and catch your breath.
your eyes fluttered open, and immediately you were smiling stupidly at the sight of lando; his own grin mirroring yours as he hummed quietly.
“you’re so beautiful,” he whispered; unable to stop the compliment from escaping him, and your smile only grew; knowing you’d disagree if you caught sight of your tangled hair and flushed cheeks. 
it had your stomach flipping, men compliment you all the time. only lando would gain such a reaction.
“got another one in you?” his question was gentle; the sparkle in his eye daring, and you had no hesitation in nodding.
“need you inside me,” you mumbled, causing the driver’s smirk to return to its rightful place ━ glad your wants were shared.
you may have gone a long time without, but your stamina hadn’t faulted.
lando was tugging you to the edge of the counter at that, and you easily got lost in the kiss that he placed upon your lips; rough and messy as you melted into his hold.
it’d caught you by surprise, when he tugged you down onto your feet, spun your round and bent you over the marble surface; a gasp escaping you.
“missed you so much,” lando sighed; ushering your legs apart as your breath hitched in your throat. you didn’t know what to focus on, his words, your position or the feeling of his hands on your ass.
the confession wasn’t one you’d hold onto, you knew better than to cling to words uttered during sex. but god it felt great to hear.
“missed you too,” you assured him back, moan slipping past your lips as you felt his tip press against your folds; but he made no further movements.
your hips shook slightly, attempting to entice him ━ so needy despite having cum twice already. you just wanted him. all of him.
his hand moved up your back, tangling in your hair and creating a makeshift pony tail ━ one he tugged on immediately, your head snapping up.
“what did i say earlier? about using your words?” lando leant forward, lips grazing your ear; cock pressed against your entrance, causing you to cry out.
your body was overstimulated, tired; tired of his teasing. out of practice to predict his wants.
“want you to fuck me,” you whined quickly, rushing your words out as your hips pressed backwards. “need you lan, please,” you whimpered; sounding oh so desperate lando couldn’t possibly deny you.
he entered you without any more warning, bottoming out as your walls wrapped around him; your gasps intertwining as you gripped the counter below you.
the cool surface against your front did little to cool you down, moaning at the feeling of being so full. full of him again, after so long.
too long.
“always take me so well,” lando grunted in your ear; giving you a few moments to adjust before he was dropping your hair and standing up straight ━ hands finding your hips now.
his thrusts were harsh, rough and deep; not too slow or too fast, ensuring you felt every inch of him as your aching cunt squeezed him.
every move had your body jolting, moans escaping you; the counter and lando the only reason your legs were able to stay upright.
“so-so good,” you stumbled out, eyes rolling back as your body fell limp, unable to process the pleasure you were feeling. what you’d been deprived of and craving.
the driver too was losing himself in the feeling, head thrown back as he moved in and out of you ━ sounds of skin slapping filling up the large and empty space.
it was a mutual feeling, as to why the fuck this didn’t happen sooner. how on earth you two had been in such close proximity throughout the months and not gotten to this point yet.
safe to say keeping your distance now would be difficult.
lando felt the need to be closer, as if he needed more of you despite having you already at his mercy.
his hand found your neck with ease, wrapping around your throat and guiding your head up ━ causing you to stand up right, back against his chest.
he didn’t apply pressure, yet, but just the feeling of his large hand wrapped around the base of your neck had your legs feeling weaker; split open on his cock meaning lando’s body was the only thing holding you up now.
“feel good?” lando’s question was just him chasing praise, knowing you were fucked stupid; but he couldn’t help but want to remind you just who was the reason you could barely form sentences.
you nodded as much as you could in his hold. always nodding, he could ask or say anything and you’d find a way to say yes.
“only i can make you feel this good hm? only i can make you cum?” lando didn’t stop running his mouth, basking in the fact it was him that had the tears spilling out of your eyes. a sense of pride washing over him.
you choked out a yes, his thrusts having only gotten faster ━ and when his hand applied pressure to your neck you were almost certain you were in heaven.
“so perfect, so fucking perfect for me baby,” lando grunted in praise; and the kiss he pressed to your shoulder blade was a vast contrast to the treatment of your cunt.
it really was too much, the few tears and whimpers made that clear to lando; you were only moments away from cumming again and the thought alone had his own high dawning on him.
“come on angel, cum on my cock. cum for me,” he was speaking in your ear again; and you practically screamed as your third orgasm hit ━ body falling limp in his hold.
the way your walls squeezed him had him cumming with you, groaning as his forehead rested on your shoulder ━ erratic breaths filling the room as he stilled inside you.
all his touches were suddenly delicate, pulling out of you as he moved you to lean against the counter, still holding you up slightly as you caught your breath.
it was a comfortable silence, his hands ghosting over your waist as you pressed your eyes shut for a few moments.
you’d expected some sort of regret. an immediate now what? for one of you to panic or flee.
but instead, neither of you wanted the moment to end.
“want to join me for a shower?” lando broke the silence, a half smile that had you feeling an odd sense of relief.
one he felt too when you smiled right back, and nodded in agreement.
he’d chuckled, you would even go as far as to say he was grinning; hands grasping your thighs and picking you up with ease, carrying you off towards the bathroom.
when your friends returned you had been on the sofa, lando out by the pool ━ strategically placed to avoid suspicion, already under the assumption someone would’ve brought up the fact it happened to be you two who stayed back today.
chatter filled the room immediately, lando trudging in to greet everyone. you having stayed seated, purely because you didn’t trust your legs.
“burnt cookies y/n?” max had spoke across the room; having been first to stumble upon the overdone batch sat on the kitchen island you’d spent the last 15 minutes sanitising.
your cheeks flushed, purely because you could sense lando’s eyes burning into you.
you could picture the cocky smirk plastered on his face.
“yeah. my bad,” you laughed sheepishly.
and you were glad to be the only one paying attention when lando passed the back of the couch, finger grazing your shoulder as he did so.
“my bad,” he corrected; your eyes meeting his smug ones in passing.
━━
a/n: did y’all miss my shitty endings???
anyways idk what this is but here it is
unedited atm so apologies xox
as always appreciate feedback so so much, love u all and hope u enjoy 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼
#f1 smut#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#lando norris smut#lando norris fic#f1 fic#lando norris x reader#lando norris one shot#lando norris imagine#lando norris angst#lando norris#f1 angst#f1 one shot#lando norris fluff
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니키 - ruined make-out sessions -> N.NK
Warning → Kissing / Making out.
Paring → Clingbf!Niki x SoftieGfFem!Reader
Synopsis → Its been two months since he has kissed your lips.
You jumped when you placed your toothbrush back in the holder and looked into the mirror, only to find niki standing there behind you.
He giggled as he put his arms around you, pulling your back against his chest before he laid her chin on your shoulder.
"You scared me."
Your eyes locked in the mirror and he pouted sadly.
"Sorry. I just couldn't stand being away from you for another minute."
You turned around and looped your arms around his neck to pull him closer if that was even possible now.
"It's been two months since I last saw you. Two months without your arms around me, without being able to kiss you." He whispered the last part against your lips as he leaned in to steal another lingering kiss from your lips.
"I love being on tour. Don't get me wrong. You know being on tour. Don't get me wrong. You know how much I love it. But it's not easy being so far away from my girl."
You hooked your fingers under his chin, already craving the taste of his lips again. He breathed out a soft sigh as he gently laid his hand on your cheek, wanting to feel your soft and warm skin against his fingertips.
"I've missed you too, nini. So much."
You quickly melted into his kisses and hid touch as he let his hands roam along your body. He suddenly started to walk backward until he led you out of the bathroom and into the hotel room where you fell onto the mattress, fingers intertwined.
He pulled away to stare at you adoringly for a moment. You were wearing his shirt. It was nothing new. You find yourself stealing them all the time.
He even left his favorites behind for you, spraying his perfume on the fabric to let his smell linger until the day you reunited; which came much sooner than he expected, thanks to your wonderful surprise visit today.
He dropped his forehead onto yours and pecked your lips as he kept his eyes locked with yours.
You looked pulchritudinous, just laying there all smiles while you stared at his endearingly and eagerly awaited the next brush of her lips on your own.
"I'm so happy you're here." He whispered before trailing kisses to your neck.
"Me too, niki. I missed you lots." You mumbled as you tilted your head back and closed your eyes to let more of your skin be kissed lovingly by the sweet brush of his lips.
He put his fingers under your chin a moment later because as much as he loves kissing your neck and hearing those sighs fall from your lips, he loves the taste of your lips and the way they move against his own.
He deepened the kiss and brushed his fingers along your skin. You jumped when he lifted up his shirt you had on and his warm fingers fell to your skin.
But his touch was so calming, so doting, and after two long months without feeling his passionate touch, you basked in every second of his concupiscent caresses.
You held him close, so close that you could feel every swift beat of his heart against your own.
You couldn't help the soft sigh that fell from your lips as he pulled away from your lips once more to kiss and gently bite at your skin.
He’s missed you an inexpressable amount and he planned on showing you just how much; by loving on you and holding you as tight as she could.
But just as his lips brushed against that one special spot on your neck, the door of the hotel room was opening and you both jumped in shock.
Jake stood wide-eyed, looking just as shocked as you and Niki.
Niki cleared her throat awkwardly while you buried your face in his neck. Your cheeks were redder than ever before and niki would usually tease you for that, but his ears were just as red.
"Jake? What's up?"
"Uh," Jake mumbled and shook his head, trying to think of why he walked into the room in the first place.
"You didn't knock?" Niki wondered.
"No, I did. And Sunoo and Heeseung called before that. But neither of you answered and now we know why." He tried to crack a joke, but you were all too shocked and too awkward to laugh.
"Sunghoon wanted to know if you wanted to go out?Y/n's here, it's her first night, and we thought we'd do something fun to celebrate but... I think you found other ways to celebrate." You whined in embarrassment and niki shook his head.
"We'll be down in a few minutes."
Jake never left a room so fast before, simply nodding and slamming the hotel door behind him.
You and Niki stared at each other for a moment before he climbed off of you.
"Well. the next week should be fun. Having to look Jake in the eyes after that."
Niki chuckled and reached for your hand.
"Yeah. But I'll take the teasing. At least I've got you here and that's all that matters to me."
You laid your head on his shoulder and she kissed your head lingeringly.
"I feel the same way, nini."
He turned your cheek and leaned in for another kiss. But you pulled away quickly, taking him by the hand and leading her to the bathroom.
"Come on, we gotta get ready. The boys are waiting for us."
He whined as you dragged him into the bathroom to get ready, already craving your kisses again.
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Copyright © 2024 rose-petle/Rostle. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED | Do NOT edit, copy, translate or repost any of my work without permission.
#☁️rostle_works!#enha fluff#enha smut#enhypen#enha#enha imagines#bxg#enha scenarios#enha x reader#enhypen fluff#enha niki#niki fluff#niki smut#enhypen niki#niki x reader#ni ki enhypen#ni ki#niki enha#niki x you#niki x y/n#enha nishimura riki#nishimura riki#enha riki#enhypen riki#riki x reader#riki fluff#riki smut#riki x you#riki x y/n
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☆ THREE ISN'T A CROWD — SATORU & SUGURU
summary: your best friends, geto and gojo, rail you in a hotel bed. that's it. that's the fic.
cw: afab!reader, finger fucking, unprotected sex, double penetration so mdni !!
an: I wrote this whilst drinking a big fat cup of tea, and eating a packet of stale biscuits. so no angsty romance today, just two besties appreciating you in their own special way. it is 5:40 am so I did not proof read this so ignore mistakes pls <;33
gojo and geto were mischievous on their own accords – but when together it was worse. so when you were sandwiched between them in your hotel room, since of course there was only one bed, you weren’t even surprised.
“this is not fair,” gojo mumbles, his lips curling into a mock pout as he exhales a huff of air.
“oh don’t be a baby,” geto scolds, with a chuckle . gojo and geto bickered over who got to sleep where and after a lengthy game of rock paper scissors – it was gojo who had to face the wall. “you’ll get your turn soon.” you could feel geto’s breath on your neck as he was placed firmly behind you, his hands stuffed in your pants as his fingers caress your wet slit.
“don’t be mean sugu,” you chastise, your hand trailing up gojo's back to his shoulder to turn him over, facing you, “there’s enough of me to go around.” gojo is needy, pressing a feverish kiss to your lips, wanting to taste all of you.
gojo didn’t think his plan would work, when he proposed it to geto he was swift in his agreement — the only thing left was you. their pretty little best friend. who they've both wanted a piece of, for years.
now that he’s got you, he couldn’t contain himself – if he wasn’t careful he knew he’d be cumming in his boxers too soon. he latches onto your neck sucking and biting his hands grabbing onto your tits, tweaking and pinching at your nipples.
“you’re hogging her,” gojo complains, as his fingers slip down to your cunt. geto adds another finger spreading your lips wider as gojo’s forces his fingers into you. they were both rubbing your pussy. your wetness making it easier for gojo to piston in and out of you and for geto to stroke and flick against your clit with his thumb.
“g-guys fuck, you’re both too much,” you whimper, your hips thrusting towards gojo, slotting onto his fingers further. geto’s slides his tongue from your collar bone to your jaw before his hand grips onto it, his lips remain at your ears as he whispers, “you gonna cum for us baby?”
“yeah c’mon make a mess for us,” gojo adds, continuing his pattern of rubs and pushes in your pussy, its almost as if he’s committed the rhythm to memory. he was effortless in working with geto, both aiding each other to help you reach your climax. geto pinches your clint, hard, and you spray both of their hands with your cum – squirting all over them.
gojo’s eyes widen at the sight, “shit, i didn’t know you could do that” he exclaims, taking his fingers out of you, examining them as they glisten with your juices, “suguru, did she know that she could do that?”
geto ignores him, rolling his eyes at his friends over excitement, “wanna be wowed even further, taste her, i bet she’s sweet.” before gojo could comply you take his fingers in your mouth, practically choking on them as you suck off all your juices.
“you taste good don’t you?” geto muses, pressing a kiss to your neck, you nod dumbly as you lock eyes with gojo still nibbling on his fingers.
“hey suguru, can we try something with her,” gojo proposes, and geto nods, prompting him to continue, “i wanna stuff her. i want both of us to stuff her.
“we can make that happen, can't we?” geto smirks, rubbing on your ass giving it a light smack, “come sit on my dick, i’ll take of you.”
“what about me?” gojo whines, groaning as you're pulled away from him and on top of geto.
“you’ll get yours in due time, satoru,” geto scolds, taking out his dick giving it some light pumps before rubbing it across your slit. you force yourself down on him, your hands clawing at his chest as you push it down. you were already gushing at the feeling of geto inside of you, filling you whole. so the idea of having them both in you had you excited, grinding down onto geto’s dick as hard as he was thrusting into you.
“are you seeing this?” geto asks gojo, gesturing to the way your head was thrown back and your lips were clenched in your teeth, “the way our pretty friend here is all strung out on my dick?”
gojo’s eyes were focused on the way you bounced repeatedly on his best friends dick, furiously pumping his as the sight. the way your grabbed your tits and played with your nipples, moaning to the beat of geto’s thrusts, he knew he needed to be inside of you.
he gets out of the bed, coming to kneel behind you, peppering kisses along your spine. “i think theres room for me, isn’t there?” he jests, slightly pushing you forward, eyeing the way geto’s dick slides in and out of you.
you take a shark inhale at the feeling of gojo entering you, “you’re good,” geto reassures, “you can take us.” and you moan as you get used to the feeling of the both of them, their dicks rubbing together as they drive into you, instantly finding a rhythm.
“you feel so fuckin’ good, w-way too good,” gojo moans, holds you from behind, his chest presses against your back, his hands cupping your boobs as his head rests on your shoulders.
“‘m close,” geto mutters, smirking at the sight of you, the feeling of you. “you gonna let us cum inside of you? really keep you filled up.” you moan out in agreement, your head felt so foggy with the feeling of them both charging into you. geto gives gojo a knowing smile, and as if on cue, they both load into you showering you with their cum. you finish at the same as them with a high pitched moan, releasing onto them, feeling stuffed with all their cum, and yours, resting inside of you.
“now that,” gojo pulls out of you, pressing an appreciative kiss on the corner of your lips before collapsing on the bed with a blissful smile, “was fucking magical.”
“yeah i guess it was good,” geto chuckles, still inside of you, kissing you on your forehead, his hand slinging over your ass, as you slump on top of him, “how are you feeling?”
“you two are exhausting,” you joke with a smile, “but i can see why i kept you around as my friends.” although this was something that you yourself didn’t plan, you weren’t gonna deny that being freshly fucked and laid up with your two best friends wasn’t all that bad.
AN: I think you can see my heavy bias for geto come thru in this fic but oh well DIVIDERS BY @/CAFEKITSUNE I wrote this more for time than anyone else tbf BUT TELL ME WHAT U THINK since I am iffy on my smut skills
#stampedwithanE★#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo x reader#gojo smut#geto x reader#geto smut#gojo satoru x reader#geto suguru x reader#gojo x you#geto x you
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Got Me Snoring
A/N: One of my favorite things inspired by all the Ghost/König cosplayer TikToks using that one, song audio. Summary: Ghost admits getting head is boring. Reader isn't happy with that idea and goes about changing his mind. T/W: NS/FW 18+ Only, blowjobs, deepthroating, size kink if you squint, spit?, cursing, aggressive tension?, taunting, not proofread, and it's been a long ass time since I've written full-on smut.
“All I’m sayin’ is that if she calls again, I’m not about to answer.” Soap’s voice carried from the living space of the hotel room to the kitchenette where you stood microwaving some rice from a convenience store down the street.
After-mission talk always leads to the most strange conversations. Maybe the adrenaline or the high of getting almost killed got everyone in a talking mood. However as the Captain slid behind you to go grab more ice outside in the hallway, you couldn’t help but shoot him a questioning look. They’d been talking about their previous accomplishments and failures in the bedroom for nearly twenty minutes, and thankfully they’d not roped you into the ridiculous conversation but with the Captain leaving out of the room, it drew their eyesight right to you standing patiently for your instant rice to finish cooking.
“What about you, huh?” Gaz was the one to poke a little. “Have any horror stories from the bedroom?” His eyebrows raised in mischievous curiosity as all three men sat staring at you with great intent.
“I’ve faked it plenty of times.” You reply offhandedly, waving a hand at them and going back to staring at the small plastic cup rotating around in the microwave.
You overheard the men pass through the moment of silence with low laughs, most noticeably, Ghost. Who’d apparently found something very funny and decided to grace everyone with the sound of deep and resounding chuckles. With a gloved hand, you take out your food and rejoin them in the room, finding a spot on the corner of one of the beds and crossing your legs to hold the bowl while you watch and listen to more of their recounted stories.
Soap complained more about the one night he’d met up with one of the most beautiful women he’d ever met, and drank himself into oblivion to try and ease his nerves. The only problem was, that when he finally had enough liquid courage to make a move, he couldn’t get it up. Even watching him recount the tale now, you could see his embarrassment. You couldn’t imagine just how beautiful that woman had to be for Soap to give himself whiskey-dick so bad that to this day he regretted the memory and undoubtedly wished he could take it back. Gaz got pressured into retelling the story of the woman he met in Russia just for you since you’d never heard it; Detailing just how she’d been absolutely obsessed with him right from the get-go.
She couldn’t stop fawning over his accent and just how downright good-looking he was. Gaz on the other hand felt very embarrassed and never really tried to take things further on that trip. Fortunately for him, on a trip back a few months later for pleasure, he ran into the woman again and this time around she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Soap and Ghost laughed, poking fun at how utterly exhausted Garrick was when he met up with them in London. His shit-eating grin was more than enough for them to surmise that his little Russian vixen had taken him for a hell of a ride.
Then there was Ghost.
He didn’t have much to say in the way of his own successes, but did share one or two small comparisons with the other two as they kept pulling out detail after detail about the many people they’d met over the years and how they either felt they’d left their mark… or totally fucking missed it. All of it came to a very interesting topic that you suddenly became very interested in when Ghost uttered one single statement that left your mouth hanging open and staring at him almost in disbelief.
“I don’t like someone blowin’ my cock,” his voice sounded flat. Totally unbothered and nearly sleeping at the idea. “Never cared much for it when half doesn’t fit.”
You couldn’t help but insert yourself into the conversation after a long hour or so of sitting like a viewer at a movie. “Wait a second… You mean to tell me you don’t like getting head because you're too big?” The gasp in your tone was obvious, and even Soap and Gaz looked at him a little strangely as if they didn’t truly believe the idea either. It gave you a bit more reassurance in your belief that almost all men enjoyed it. Sure, there was the odd chance that Ghost just didn’t like it at all, but you really wanted to hear his explanation if he’d give you one.
The Lieutenant turned to look at you and nodded stiffly. “Yeah, ‘bout always puts me to sleep.”
It was at this point you felt the slightest urge to tell him he’d never had someone give him a legitimately good blowjob before. But before you could even say something to the contrary, a thought crossed your mind. Ghost didn’t seem like the kind of man who attracted ill-experienced women. Especially when he had already proven throughout the evening that his previous encounters were much more interesting and expansive than even that of yourself. Something a bit… jealous rose inside of you at the thought.
Imagining your Lieutenant laying on his back and hardly making any sort of sound while someone pulls out every single trick in their arsenal to make a blowjob somewhat entertaining or arousing. You didn’t necessarily profess yourself to have a crush on Ghost, due to just how grey the line between operators and anything felt when you spent so much time together under high-stress environments. There was bound to be some level of emotional attachment that devolved past… professional. And for whatever it was, knowing that Ghost had such a bad opinion on the receiving end of pleasure became a challenge you wanted to overcome.
About that time, Price returned with half-melted ice and a half-smoked cigar hanging between his lips.
“Finished talking about chasin’ tail yet?” He grumbled, walking past the group of you still sitting around each other like a bunch of kids getting caught staying up late by Dad at a sleepover. “Wanna go to fuckin’ sleep.”
He dropped the ice bucket down on the dresser with a little thud before settling himself down on the pull-out couch with his hat covering his eyes and both arms resting behind his head with that cigar still puffing smoke rings into the air. Ghost was the first to stand up, making his way out of the hotel room without as much as a comment about when he’d be back or where he was going. Your eyes trailed over his shoulders tapering into a slim waist before giving way again to thick and muscular thighs enhanced by all of gear still strapped to his body. His kit did leave a lot to the imagination. And god did your mind start to wander as both Soap and Gaz began winding down, settling themselves down to sleep for the night or at least lay somewhere quietly so the Captain didn’t lose any more of his patience and kick someone out or force them to pay for their own room. Not nearly tired enough with all of the questions and thoughts about Ghost now floating through your mind, you didn’t care the least bit about laying down or pretending not to care about the fact of the matter and headed out of the hotel room after the Lieutenant as Soap turned out the final lamp in the corner of the room.
The air was a bit cold outside without your jacket, breath materializing in front of you in light wisps of fog with every exhale as you looked down both ends of the hallway hoping to see some sign of where Ghost might’ve gone to. Down on the far left side, a larger cloud of smoke blew past the breezeway entrance and you knew right away that Ghost would be at the end of it. And when your eyes peeked around the corner, you weren’t the least bit surprised to see him with a shoulder resting up against the wall; his back to you with enough of his mask pulled up so that he could smoke a cigarette. The sweet vanilla and cherry smell hit you like a wall, reminding you that Ghost preferred rolling his own cigarettes and used pipe tobacco instead of buying packs of anything else.
Leaves no trace behind… He’d explained without prompting one night after noticing that you’d been watching him.
“Followin’ me now?” His voice heavy with smoke and unhindered by his mask landed directly on you, not even needing to turn around to know you were the one tailing after him.
“Couldn’t let you freeze to death alone.” You reply with a little smile, taking it as your chance to go ahead and walk -slowly- over to him giving him the privacy to smoke without needing to fuss with keeping his face covered.
By standing just at his back leaning against the wall, he knew right where you were, and it put the weight of conversation on him for the moment. He gave you a gruff sort of sound and took another drag off his cigarette before turning just far enough to offer it to you. You take it from his gloved fingers carefully, licking your lips a little in slight nervousness. This wasn’t the first time he’d offered you a hit, but it was the first time you’d ever actually taken him up on it. Seeing the damp rolling paper on the end made you shiver a little; Hopefully, the cold weather would be a good enough excuse to keep him from recognizing your sudden anxiety around him. Wrapping your lips around it and inhaling, you’re a little more than guilty for noticing the taste of Ghost instead of the vanilla and cherry. With a quick glance to your side, you saw his mask was pulled back down over his mouth and his dark eyes were focused right on you as you blew the smoke out of your mouth and back in through your nose. Attempting to hand it back, he just shakes his head.
“You didn’t come out here to be cold,” He finally broke the silence. “What’d you really want from me?”
No matter how long you spent around Ghost, you never got used to just how miserably direct Ghost could be. Like nothing was truly surprising to him or worth being the least bit delicate over. Even if it concerned someone -like yourself- at least attempting to be a little more discretionary. Yet you sighed and took another drag before tossing the rest of it down on the concrete, putting out the ember with the toe of your boot.
“Were you lying earlier?” Your question falls a little short of confident, giving Ghost the impression right away that you were nervous. For a split second, you thought you saw the phantom of a smile under the cover of his mask before it was quickly hidden back under late-night shadow and white paint. Ghost put his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt and gave a sigh, making more fog swirl around and through the woven material around his mouth. Another thought of what his mouth looked like flashed through your failing mind.
“Why would it matter?”
You licked at your bottom lip, trying to figure out a way to word this without sounding desperate or downright shameless in front of your commanding officer… you shouldn't be thinking about doing this in the first place. So many more bad outcomes could come of this than the one good one. Even then, it was risky. Leaving you a bit dazed and staring at Ghost.
“Asked you a question. I’m expectin’ an answer.” He pressed forward, a slight swagger in his hips as he got closer to you, resting a hand on the wall and tilting his head a little to the side. Damn near mocking you for being so much smaller and easily intimidated. You look down at your boots for a moment, deciding to just put your money where your mouth is and take the hit no matter the outcome.
“If you weren’t lying…” You look up, internally screaming at how heavy his eyes look down on you. “I’d like to try and change your mind.”
A deep chuckle comes from the Lieutenant in response followed by his heavy hand resting on your shoulder, almost totally engulfing it.
“You’re jokin’,” His voice lowered with humor that made you almost shrivel up and die inside. “Why would I let you do that?” You give a frustrated sigh and take a step back away from Ghost. Mentally and physically distancing yourself from the slight Ghost had given you by accident or otherwise.
“Never mind.” You give a short nod and turn on your heel to head back to the hotel room and find somewhere to curl up on the floor or in a bed with someone and try to sleep off your damaged ego.
Yet five steps away from Ghost, you’re stopped short with his arm snaked around your waist tightly and his mouth resting against your ear with a heavy and hot breath fanning against your neck. His palm spreads over your stomach and squeezes almost aggressively at the soft flesh under your shirt. Tall and wide, Ghost yanks your back flush to his chest as a silent threat.
“Don’t fuckin’ walk away from me,” His low growl makes you shiver. “I’m not finished with ya.”
In an instant, you’re spun around and hauled aggressively with your back against the nearest wall with Ghost’s chest holding you from fighting back. His legs limit your ability to try and escape out from under his arms, and while one hand is flat against your chest, the other restricts both your wrists above your head. Breath evacuates your lungs with the sudden shock of your back against the wall, but your eyes are locked on Ghost’s as he glares at you harshly through the wavering mist of his breath in the cold air.
“Now I’ve got you pacified…” His smirk was clear in tone, outright mocking you by pressing those massive thighs tighter against yours. “Let’s continue shall we?” The gloved hand pressed against your heaving chest slides up to grasp firmly at your chin and jerk it up to look him in the eyes.
“Why don’t you be a good little thing and tell me why you think you could change my mind, and maybe… I won’t punish you for talkin’ shit to your superior officer.” He spat loudly, his face less than an inch from yours, eyes flaming with aggression.
“Sorry Lieutenant…” You mutter stiffly through the struggle of his hand against your jaw. “Thought I could do better.” You add a lot weaker, averting your eyes as far from Ghost as you can.
“What was that?” He made dark fun of you, terribly obvious, and downright happy with himself. “Say it again.”
You squirm in his grasp, only to get your wrists slid up higher on the wall and a thigh shoved between your own to lift your feet almost totally off the ground. Toes tapping the ground, Ghost holds you totally of his own power without the slightest effort needed to keep you held right where he wanted you to be.
“Thought I could do better.” You repeat yourself louder, and more clearly, feeling utterly stupid for enduring such pathetic treatment. Only you knew it was your fault for letting such a pipe dream of an idea come to reality by prodding Ghost about his sex life so confidently. The masked man hummed lowly, tilting his head as he inspected your face lighted only by a small sliver of moonlight creeping around the corner of the hallway.
“Better, huh?” Ghost chuckles darkly, this thumb tracing over the bottom curve of your lip carefully. “That’s a lot of confidence for someone so small.”
You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Size has nothing to do with it.”
Ghost barks laughter, grumbling something under his breath before dropping his hand away from your jaw and releasing one of your hands to press against his groin. You can’t miss his meaning from the massive erection pressing back against your hand and twitching impatiently when your Lieutenant squeezes your hand around it tighter. A growl escapes his throat and he looks up at you with almost evil eyes.
“Still think size doesn’t matter, little one?” He questions, one eyebrow raising above the hemline of his mask.
Your mouth falls open in shock. Not only because of the sheer girth of Ghost’s cock pulsing in your hand but realizing that he was actually taking your proposal seriously no matter how aggressive his mockery of you was. It shouldn’t have been so damn surprising when taking into account just how large of a man Ghost is. Surely everything would be proportionate, and his erection was proof of it.
Your face is enough to make Ghost chuckle. “That’s what I thought…”
It’s enough of a dismissal that thaws your speechlessness and throws you right back into the present with enough of the guts to speak up for your own desires.
“I can do it,” You blurt breathlessly, fingers tracing along the curve of Ghost’s dick and earning a lusty growl from him. “I can make it good. I’ll make it fit.” You nod your head feverishly in an attempt to keep your chance open. Ghost’s eyes widen at your desperation and his cock twitches hard in your palm with the sound of your shallow breaths and pleading eyes.
“You want it, huh?” He questions, mask moving like he’s grinning under it.
“Then get on your fuckin’ knees.”
The moment his hands release you, you feel yourself sliding down the wall until your knees make a bruising thud against the concrete floor in front of Ghost. Your hands holding on his thighs without the slightest care that you were standing in the middle of a hotel breezeway where anyone could see you. A weight settled in your lower stomach with the idea of anyone coming out of their room and witnessing such a sight.
“My belt.” Ghost instructs a bit pinched, looking down at you with his chin almost touching his chest.
You’re frantic yet shaking as your hands slide up his thighs and begin pulling his belt loose, hearing that metallic clink as you pull the two sides apart with a watering mouth. No instruction is necessary for you to know where to go next, and as you unbutton his cargo pants, your free hand palms his cock as you pull down just enough of his waistband to expose him but not make him cold. Ghost’s hands help just a little, settling extra material where he prefers it, almost patiently holding up his own hoodie and t-shirt out of your way as you slid your hands under his boxers.
“Fuck…” Ghost mutters quietly, tensing when your fingers wrap around his base and free him from his underwear.
Your thumb smears over his swollen head soft enough to not make him jerk away with sensitivity, and you lick your lips at just how wet his cock already is from sheer anticipation. Hell, you were turned on too, practically dripping in your underwear at the sight of Ghost with nothing but a perfect dick exposed and ready for your mouth. The first lick is a teasing one. Flattening it over his head just because you couldn’t wait to taste him, gathering up his arousal, and making it a point to swallow with your eyes locked right on Ghost’s. You're certain it’s enough to affect him just by the way he grunts and rests both of his hands against the wall behind you to steady himself.
When your lips wrap around his tip and slide down towards his base slowly, you hollow your lips and suck hard. Almost mimicking drinking through a straw with both hands wrapped around his thick base to restrict blood flow, adding to his sensitivity. You feel his feet flex in his boots next to your thighs and another low grunt. It spurs you forward, sinking down further and massaging your tongue on the underside before raising back up to lick at his frenulum and repeating the process with quiet whines each time he’s unable to hold back some sound.
“Shit-” He hisses after no more than a couple of minutes, jerking his hips back away from you and moving your hands out of the way so he could tighten his own fist around his cock with a heaving chest.
He stays like that for a few moments, undoubtedly trying to stave off the pleasure you’d been giving before his eyes meet yours again and they’re downright hungry and raging with fury that you’d brought him so close without any extra fancy moves or those fake moans that porn always showed. With one quick movement, he stepped closer and tilted your head back until it gently rested against the wall behind you, his cock smearing your own spit and his arousal over your open and awaiting mouth.
“You look pretty like this…” He muttered, rubbing his length over your face and tapping it teasingly against your mouth. “You hungry for more?” You’re sticking out your tongue and nodding right away, earning you a tense chuckle and the feeling of Ghost’s dick sliding into your mouth while his hand cushions the back of your head from the wall.
“Let me feed it to ya,” He grunts. “Shove my fat cock in your mouth and fuck your throat..” He adds with a feral sort of sound mixing with an ever-thickening accent.
You moan around his length, feeling your jaw muscles begin to start aching when your nose just barely grazes his pubic bone and his tip touches the back of your throat. He’s thick enough to qualify as the largest you’ve ever experienced, but you’re not the slightest bit concerned about whether he’ll be able to fit. You know he’ll make it fit if nothing else.
And him utterly pounding your throat sounded so hot that you tried pushing further down on his shaft yourself. Eager to feel Ghost as deep in you as possible. Ghost obliges you, and rocks his hips forward slowly, easing his thick head past that ring of pressure at the back of your throat and cursing under his breath when a wet, gurgling sound vibrates around his shaft as you begin swallowing around him.
“Bloody, fuucckk yes…” His groans punch through the quiet air, far louder than he should be risking in such a public space. But he’s only getting started with this experience as your nose presses against his pubic bone, and his hand flattens against the wall.
“So tight… doggin’ me right where anyone can see.”
It’s the thought that had you so eager, and right away you felt just how much it turned Ghost on too. Because the second he said it, he pulled back just a fraction and pushed himself back down your throat, beginning tight and quick thrusts that made your eyes roll back. He kept a furious pace, growling and holding tight to the back of your head until you tapped at the back of his thigh a few times, and he pulled out with a loud grunt, giving you a moment to breathe. You panted, seeing a thick web of spit connecting your mouth and his tip before watching it break and drip down your shirt.
You’re about to tell Ghost… something. But you instantly lose thought of it when he’s bent down with his mask rucked up just far enough to smash his mouth to yours, shoving his tongue in your mouth and practically eating you from the inside out. You can still taste the salty edge of his skin, and it’s almost heady to have his mouth mingling with yours and sharing his arousal between soft moans and heavy breaths. The kiss is long and feverish, but not near long enough before he’s standing back up and stroking his fist up and down his cock right in front of you like an unreal kind of dream somehow coming to life.
“Please.” You mutter a bit hoarse from the rough treatment of your throat, totally unsure of what you really want most. Between his mouth, words, and dick there’s so much more than just one you desired, but at least one of them needed to be delivered to you to attempt satisfaction.
“Open up, little one…” Ghost whispers face re-masked already, and it makes you whine pathetically, having naively believed he’d allow you just one glimpse at the mouth you’d just tasted. “Need to have more of you.” You’re totally happy to resign by leaning your head back against the wall with your tongue wetting your lips in the cold air.
Ghost starts painfully slow, holding your head on both sides of your jaw and teasing his head against your tongue and the textured roof of your mouth; indiscernible words falling from his mouth and his eyes squeezed tightly shut. You would’ve thought it was nothing more than your Lieutenant just taking his pleasure as offered. But the way his thumbs brushed over your cheeks and his fingers would occasionally rub over the stretched muscles in your jaw gave you the feeling that he was well aware of what you were surrendering to him. As well as how thankful he was to have you on your knees, and looking so fucking angelic swallowing and spitting on his dick like a dirty little whore.
“Let me - Wanna…” His rising breaths and steady strokes begin to falter the longer he thrusts inside your mouth, meticulously avoiding forcing himself deeper in disappointment; resulting in your whining and muffled complaints and pleasure. Had his hands not been purposefully holding you back to prolong the session, Ghost probably wouldn’t have lasted this long.
“P-patience…” His stammer made your chest clench in satisfaction. “Don’t - don’t wanna finish in your mouth…”. That breathy comment nearly struck you stiff as concrete.
You couldn’t believe that after this entire ordeal, Ghost was actually trying to end a blowjob without you finishing it the way you honestly believed it should always end. With you swallowing every last fucking drop that the Lieutenant gave you; wearing a goddamn smile bigger than anyone has ever seen. If he hadn’t been lying and head never impressed him, there wasn’t a chance in Hell you were going to let him finish anywhere that wasn’t down your throat. In a split second, you were shaking your head no and pulling back off his cock with a slight gasp.
“No, finish.” It’s the most demanding and certain you’ve sounded all night. “Finish in my mouth, Ghost.”
His eyes say it all.
They’re wide with his pupils blown at impressive dimensions and his thick eyelashes flutter as his shocked expression forces him to blink over and over again to make sense of you. Mouth and chin covered in spit, on your knees, and literally begging him to come in your mouth.
“Goddamn, you’re so fucking filthy…” He mutters aloud, watching intently as you slide back down over him one more time and begin doing what you wanted to from the very beginning.
Bring Ghost to his knees.
It’s a moment before you have him cursing and holding onto the wall with both hands again as you push deeper and deeper until you're teasing the tip of your nose against him yet again. Unwilling to let him pull you off this time or prolong this. Deserving this release was the bare minimum. Not only did you want to provide him ultimate pleasure where no one else had, but you enjoyed every single bit of it. You needed this as much -if not more- than Ghost.
Heavy and twitching in your mouth, Ghost was teetering on the edge of his orgasm with stuttering hips and one hand sliding down to rest on your head. Not pushing this time, just laying at the crown like your movements were too much to feel with only one part of his body. Short pants were cut short by unintelligible words and strained attempts to say what you already knew.
As if giving your final approval of the idea Ghost had found unacceptable, you push him as deep as you could one final time; Hearing his loud shout echo down the breezeway as both of his hands grabbed harshly onto the sides of your head. Pumping stream after stream of his hot release down your throat you moaned deeply, feeling him gently rock his hips against your face as he rode down his high on shaky legs. You gagged a little as he pulled out, feeling your throat begin to burn in an unfamiliar way that had never followed you sharing a moment like this with another man. Only one look at Ghost’s cock right in front of your face was more than enough to reassure you he’d just been the one who gave you enough of a delicious stretch to feel for days to come.
Your eyes met his and a small little shy smile crossed your sore lips, contrasting the absolutely deplorable -and punishable- act you’d ever committed with a superior officer. Wordlessly Ghost tucked himself back into his underwear and neglected to button his pants back up before dropping to a knee right in front of you and pulling up his mask again to brush his lips against yours.
“Want to taste,” He whispered ever-so-softly, hands holding your head gently.
“Need to taste me inside your mouth.” He added, licking your lips before closing the distance between you for a second time. This kiss was still intense. Ghost controlling the pace and just how much dominance you had, which nearly came to zero when he licked into your mouth, groaning shamelessly. He could taste his release coating your mouth as he utterly overwhelmed you with kisses, licks, bites, and more moans that fell like honey on your ears.
You were the first to pull back for a gasp of air you’d gone full minutes without, feeling your own mouth and body beginning to feel a little weak with exhaustion not typical of a well-conditioned soldier like yourself. Your Lieutenant took note right away and rested his head against yours reassuringly, his nose touching yours.
“You’re too cold to be out here like this.” He whispered, pulling your cheek affectionately and wrapping the other arm around you. “Not gonna let you freeze after that.” He chuckled a bit sluggishly, kissing you again long and chaste.
He pulled his mask back down and gave very little effort to pick you up off your knees and into his arms without question or hesitation. Leaving you feeling like a treasured prize he’d won and refused to let out of his sight for more than a moment. Safe and protected, you couldn’t care one bit about the cold nipping through your thin clothes and resting your head against Ghost’s shoulder as he carried you back to the hotel room the 141 had already retired for the night in.
Expertly avoiding Soap and Gaz laying on couch cushions on the floor and covered with extra bedsheets, sliding around Price’s bed without bumping it, all while carrying you Ghost sat you down on the edge of the bed he’d been keen to claim as his own right when you’d arrived. You were nearly asleep just sitting there when he unlaced your boots enough to tug them off, pulled your shirt off over your head, and replaced it with one of his hoodies. Finally, he takes off your pants and nods for you to move up to the top of the bed, acting just as he would normally. But as he climbed into the bed next to you and tugged you back against him tightly, you realized you’d gotten a lot more than you bargained for.
Sure you might’ve changed Ghost’s mind about getting head… but you weren’t finished yet. Because Ghost was curling his arm around your waist and burying his masked face in between your shoulder blades like cuddling with you at night was the usual way of things. His fingers innocently traced the waistband of your underwear, and he radiated body heat that melted away the fringe sensations of cold on your body easily.
“I’ve made a decision,” He whispers very quietly so as not to wake the others. And you wiggle back a little closer to him, nodding your head as a silent acknowledgment for him to go on. Expecting him to say that you did -in fact- change his mind about getting blown.
“You’re mine now.”
Comments & Reblogs are Appreciated
#simon ghost riley#ghost x reader#cod#cod mwii#simon riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#velvetures writes#velvetures
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── ୨୧ ! 𝗦𝗟𝗘𝗘𝗣𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗣𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗞
𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader
SUMMARY: Where Nick pranks Chris and Y/N while they are sleeping.
WARNING: None.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
Nick walked towards the double bed closest to the hotel room's door, their vlogging camera in his right hand, while his left hand held a bottle of lemonade.
He slowly approached, raising the camera so that the lens caught what was on top of it, or rather, who. Y/N and Chris were still fast asleep, both covered by the fluffy white blanket.
The girl was lying on the left side, that is, closer to Nick. Her head was lying on Chris's right arm, using it as her personal pillow, while the boy's left arm was around her shoulders covered by one of his t-shirts.
The only visible parts of the couple were their heads - which were practically on top of each other - and Chris's bare shoulders and arms that were slightly shivering from the Texas cold. Unfortunately, the room's heater didn't seem to be able to combat the coldness completely.
Nick couldn't see, but he was sure their legs were tangled under the blanket. He joked that when they slept together, they seemed to melt into each other with how close they were.
As the oldest triplet got closer to the bed, the camera was able to capture the small snores that came out of Chris's half-open mouth and the soft sighs that escaped Y/N's nose, both sounding like a lullaby to each other.
Nick pressed his lips into a thin line, trying to contain his laughter as he anticipated the couple's reaction. He loved playing pranks on them both, especially when they were sleeping.
"Chris, do you want a sip? Y/N?" Nick's voice sounded low behind the camera as the lens captured him, raising his left arm, the bottle entering the frame, bringing it closer to the couple's faces.
Chris, being a light sleeper, woke up seconds after. He lifted his head slightly as he tightened his arms around Y/N, pulling her closer - if that was even possible.
That movement woke up Y/N, or almost. The girl opened her eyes slightly, keeping them in a thin line, exhaling through her nose before closing them again, seeming not to register Nick in front of her.
"Hmm?" The questioning sound escaped Chris's throat. He turned his head from side to side slowly, trying to understand what was happening, his messy hair falling into his eyes.
"Do you want a sip? I think Y/N must be thirsty, too." Nick continued, his cheeks turning red from the effort he was doing while trying not to laugh.
"What, Nick?" Chris's voice sounded for the first time, the hoarseness making his words almost intelligible. The sound made Y/N open her eyes again, this time a little wider.
She lifted her hands, which were previously under the blanket, and brought them to Chris' ones in front of her body, intertwining them, shivering at the contact of her hot skin with her boyfriend's cold one. A sound of discomfort left her lips as she finally noticed Nick in front of her, holding what looked like a bottle. She quickly closed her eyes again, feeling too tired for whatever that was that Nick wanted.
"It's lemonade. Do you guys want a sip or not?" Nick prevailed, moving the bottle closer to their faces.
"If you drop that on me... I'll kill you." This time, it was Y/N's voice that sounded, equally hoarse and tired from the previous day's filming with Sam and Colby. She only opened one eye this time, looking at Nick but not really being able to focus on him, her vision blurred by sleep.
"It's lemonade." The standing boy spoke again, letting out a low, almost imperceptible laugh. He knew he would get yelled at when the couple actually woke up.
"Are you fucking stupid?" Chris responded, stretching for a few seconds without letting go of Y/N's hand, pulling her closer against his bare chest and burying his head in the crook of his girl's neck, exhaling the natural scent of her skin.
"Go away, Nick." Y/N spoke again, finally closing her eyes completely with the comfort of her boyfriend's body heat against her own, a happy sigh scaping her mouth.
They both fell asleep again within seconds, as if nothing had happened.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
extra - comments:
"the way they sleep so close together, being all cuddly and everything 🥺"
"Chris and Y/N are such couple goals"
"I've never seen a cozier bed in my life 😫"
"dear Santa Claus ✏️📄"
"I want a boyfriend who cuddle me while we sleep like I'm going to run away at any minute 😭"
"Nick is a real pest LMAO"
"Nick holding himself back from laughing behind the camera 😭"
"Chris and Y/N's sleepy voice 😔"
#x reader#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#sturniolo#love#imagine#chris sturniolo fanfiction#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo#christopher owen sturniolo#chris x reader#chris au#chris fanfic#chris#christopher#sturniolo triplets#vlog#texas#cuddling#prank#oneshot
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How They React To You Not Wearing A Bra
Imagine Alastor, Lucifer, Husk, Vox, Adam, and surprise, surprise, Sir Pentious and Saint Peter notice you’re not wearing a bra underneath your shirt? You’re not in a relationship with any of them.
Alastor:
When you showed up to one of Charlie’s meetings with no bra underneath your shirt, Alastor immediately noticed, his ears falling flat against his head as you took the only available space on the couch next to him. The room was cold, and it was evident in the way your nipples peeked through the thin cotton material, teasing him from his peripheral vision, almost.
“Hey, Al, is everything alright?” You whispered to Alastor, your eyes flitting down to see him pulling his dress shirt over his crotch.
“Yes, now, listen to Charlie, darling,” Alastor responded curtly, his face forward, set on ignoring you for a reason that was unknown to you. “It’s rude to interrupt.”
His tone definitely got to you, so you did just that, listening to Charlie babble away. Meanwhile, Alastor was doing everything he could to conceal his growing erection, from buttoning the rest of his coat to crossing his legs. But he couldn’t stop stealing glances at your perky breasts, eventually manifesting out of the room without a goodbye to relieve himself, feeling utterly weak.
Lucifer:
The day Charlie’s dad was supposed to visit the hotel just so happened to align with laundry day. You made sure to wear something loose but also presentable, not worried about your lack of bra underneath…until Lucifer started to personally introduce himself to everybody, your nervousness making itself known through your shirt. How fantastic.
“Hi, hello! You must be—“ Lucifer started, but then he interrupted himself with a squeak, his face at level with your chest. “I, uh—it’s nice to meet you too?”
“Oh, wow! You’re Charlie’s dad, huh? Did she warn you that I was a hugger?” You said quickly, panicking, bringing him in for a hug to preserve what little dignity you had left. “Yes, yes—nice to meet you.”
Before any of the other residents could notice your hardened nipples, Lucifer’s face was buried into your chest, peering down through your lashes to see him staring up at you with a dazed look. You offered him an apologetic smile, completely unaware of the fact that he was secretly enjoying being in between your breasts, his pants getting just a little bit tighter.
Husk:
If there was anybody who could care less about what you were wearing, it was Husk. That’s what you told yourself as you approached the bar, tugging at the bottom of your shirt, stretching it so he wouldn’t see your lack of bra underneath. Of course, the man immediately noticed your discomfort, but he didn’t say anything as you sat on the stool in front of him.
“Just give me a beer,” You said, neglecting to offer him the usual pleasantries. Husk hummed, placing the beer in front of him instead of sliding it to you. The bastard.
“Thanks,” You mumbled, flinching as your nipples hardened upon feeling the cold counter. Husk’s pupils dilated, but besides that, he hid his surprise quite well, averting his eyes with a ‘Uh-huh, yeah, of course.’
When you sat back down, you tugged at your shirt again, completely missing the way Husk readjusted himself behind the bar. A slight blush dusted his cheeks as his fingers shakily tucked away his erection, all while he continued to steal glances at your breasts, tail slightly whipping at the sight of your nipples peeking through the thin material. God, did he feel like such a pervert.
Vox:
You walked into the Vee’s shared living space, carelessly plopping down onto the couch next to Velvette. She looked up from her phone with a smirk, her eyes teasingly raking over your chest. “Letting the girls breathe, I see.” You would have responded if Vox hadn’t suddenly showed up, paling as he sat down next to you. Fuck, wasn’t he supposed to be away at a meeting?
“What are you doing here?” You asked him, folding your arms over your chest, trying to hide the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra.
“Well, hello to you too,” Vox replied sarcastically, turning around to look at you. “Meeting got canceled—oh, are you cold?” He said, a wicked smile taking over his initial annoyance.
When you folded your arms, you actually pulled down your shirt, the already thin material displaying the outline of your breasts. “You weren’t supposed to be here,” You mumbled sheepishly. “Hey, we’re all adults,” Vox told you, turning away. That didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to look, however, storing the sight of your hardened nipples in his hard drive for later.
Adam:
The last thing you ever wanted to do was go braless around Adam, but most of your laundry was in the washer. You made sure to wear the loosest dress shirt you had for work, but even that wasn’t enough, his eyes bugging out of his head as you stepped into his office. Fortunately for you, Adam didn’t tell you anything…until he decided that he’d had enough of your supposed teasing.
“What the fuck did I do to deserve this?” Adam asked you, pressing himself against your back, his hands sliding up your body.
“Sir, what are you talking about?” You squeaked as he groped your breasts. “This,” He hissed, feeling the lack of padding underneath your shirt. “I can see them, you know? Ah, fuck, they’re so pretty.”
Adam’s pointer fingers traced the outline of your soft nipples, your thighs clenching together, but not at his ministrations. His erection was unashamedly poking at your ass through your skirt. Maybe going braless around the angel wasn’t such a bad idea, you thought, especially as he kicked open your legs from behind, his pants falling to his feet with a thud.
Sir Pentious:
Oh, Sir Pentious. He was so sweet and innocent. You looked up at him in amusement as he chucked off his coat and draped it over your shoulders, purposely neglecting to fasten the buttons. If he did, he’d risk brushing over your nipples, hardened from how cold it was in the parlor. A simple ‘thank you’ would have sufficed, but you decided to tease him a bit first.
“How’d you know I was cold?” You giggled, sliding your arms through the oversized sleeves, leaving the coat unfastened.
“I, uhhh, well,” Sir Pentious stammered, his eyes nervously darting across the room. “I saw your…” He started, but then he thought about something else, “…arms littered with goosebumps! Yesss! That is why.”
Of course he’d tell you a lie in lieu of the truth. You approached Sir Pentious, looking up at him through your lashes as you wrapped your arms around his torso in thanks, your breasts pressed up against him. If the serpent wasn’t blushing before, he certainly was now, his heart beating rapidly as he tried to focus on anything else but the feeling of your hardened nipples.
Saint Peter:
With an iced coffee held against your chest, you approached the pearly gates, feeling slightly nervous as you saw the back of Saint Peter’s head. You decided not to wear a bra for once, which you were starting to regret, especially as the angel turned around at the sound of your footsteps, the smile on his face falling almost instantaneously.
“Hey! I, uh, came over here to drop off your coffee,” You said, holding it out for him to take, but he was too busy staring at the way your nipples peeked through your robes. “Peter?”
“Oh my goodness, I am so, so sorry,” Peter quickly said when he snapped out it, looking away as he went to grab the drink, missing entirely like the fool he was. “Thank you very much—oh, oh my.”
You gasped, a blush crawling up Saint Peter’s neck as his hand landed on your breast, tentatively squeezing the soft, warm flesh, realizing it wasn’t firm and cold like an iced coffee should be. Horrified, he tried to pull away, but you didn’t let him, introducing his other hand to your neglected breast instead. “We can’t—“ Peter started, but when you let out a soft moan, he immediately folded.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel imagine#alastor x reader#alastor x you#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin alastor#hazbin lucifer x reader#hazbin lucifer x you#lucifer x reader#lucifer x you#husk x reader#husk x you#hazbin hotel husk#hazbin husk#hazbin adam x reader#hazbin adam x you#adam x reader#adam x you#sir pentious x reader#sir pentious x you#hazbin saint peter#saint peter x reader#saint peter x you#vox x reader#vox x you#hazbin vox x reader#hazbin vox x you#vox
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colour me in: palette | jjk (m)
Summary: Breezy mountaintops and turquoise oceans are even more enchanting with Jungkook by your side. Yet, throughout your vacation, you realise — even once you've left the lofty peaks and liberating waves behind, you'll still elevate each other to new heights every day.
➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: fwb/f2l, fake dating; tiny hints of angst, crazy much fluff, smut ➳ warnings: okayyy. a shit ton of fluff. vacation with their friends!!!, kissing, singing, sexual tension, slippery soccer lolll, bit of acrophobia, someone flirts with oc, bit of jealousy, lots of taeun and yoonmin moments, new dynamics!!!, mountains and beaches, jimin/jk moments :'), deep talks, some insecurities, bunk beeeeds lol, mention of homophobia, small arguments, anger, talk about passing of time; explicit sexual content: hotel room sex :O, light spanking/ass stuff, kissing and making out, teasing, neck kisses!!, jk never gets enough, bit of manhandling, pussy slapping, big dick!jk, soft dom!jk, oc is soaked, they're both wearing their shirts/naked downstairs tho (impatience sigh), oral (f. & m. receiving), bit of mouthfucking, soft and rough sex, mention of sex toys, slapping with his dick ig, masturbation, spit, edging?, choking, he likes her bewbs and a$$, squirting, they ruin the hotel room bed lol, showering together; the ending 🥺 ➳ word count: 32.6k ➳ a/n: gosh, it's been mooonths. did y'all miss them as much as i did :') the distance really brought me closer to them. some more of my soul in this chapter <3 there'll be angst ahead, so enjoy this one thoroughly and with all your heart. thank you for all the support, too <3 i can't wait to hear what you guys think 🤍 ➳ listen to: can't help falling in love by haley reinhart (alt. version) | full collaborative playlist 🤍
SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs
DAY 1
“Bunk beds… Fu. Cking. Bunk. Beds.”
Jimin scarcely seems impressed with the change in plans that the hostel is forcing your group into. You haven’t quite yet deciphered what’s going on; you’ve been waiting in the lobby with pursed lips and tired eyes, Jimin at the front desk, discussing details that he’s now groaning about.
“Wait… what?” Eun asks, eyes scanning the group members, all equally confused.
Jimin, as agitated as you haven’t seen him in a while, plumps into one of the lobby’s upholstered sofa chairs, massaging his forehead, seemingly preparing to narrate a tale without a happy ending. He sighs, raising his hand as if to teach calculation to a child, and starts explaining.
“We’d booked three rooms, right? But one of them has a leak.” Short pause; Taehyung clicks his tongue. “So now they offered to keep one with the queen size bed and then get another room with two bunk beds. We’d pay less. Or. We keep the other two rooms with the beds, and still pay for the bunk bed room since one couple will still need it.”
“Same price?” Yoongi inquires, aside from Jungkook, the calmest in the room.
“Oh my god,” Eun whispers, matching Jimin’s drama-loving freak, “this is… we’re being robbed.”
“So,” Yoongi tries again, a deep voice interrupting your best friends’ growing hysteria, “we just pay less and get the bunk bed room for four people, no?”
Eun and Jimin stare at the man as if he’s uttered sheer nonsense; Eun’s eyes squint, questioning how he’d dare separate her from her boyfriend. And Jimin, his expression equal to Eun’s, directs the disbelief between his eyebrows directly at his lover speaking.
But as the options start to waver, Eun sighs, leaning back in defeat as she mumbles, “I guess…”
“Yeah, and then, who’s getting the queen sized bed?” you ask carefully, likely initiating another feud; but what else can you do? You need to resolve the issue on hand and you’re dog tired; you need to nap for an hour at least. “How do we decide that?”
“That’s the question,” Jimin declares, rubbing his hands before he announces, “I think we’ll have to fight for it, folks.”
“…How?”
Multiple pairs of eyes drift to the ceiling in thought, attempting to come up with a fair idea or some game. But their schemes are probably too intricate, building scenarios that aren’t feasible in this very situation; you can already tell.
That is, until Taehyung speaks up, slapping his thigh as he finally answers, “We’ll just go the easiest way we know.”
The fact that Jungkook and Yoongi puff out a breath of air is understandable; as Kim Taehyung’s closest pals, they’re bound to know which thought lit up his brain. But by now, even you understand the man’s tactics well enough, and before you can verbalise them, Yoongi does.
“…Wait. You want to rock paper scissors this out?”
“Do you have a better idea?”
“We just pull names? Or spin the wheel? There are plenty of sites on the Internet.”
“No,” Jimin again, “I don’t trust any of you to not manipulate this.”
Voices soon mingle, offended by Jimin’s distrust, retorts flying around such as, “Oh, thanks for this,” or “Why would we manipula—”
“Come on!” Jimin defends, cutting through the cacophony of arguments. “We’re all a bunch of newlyweds! Nobody wants to sleep without the other.”
Well… maybe he’s not wrong there. Over the last several weeks, you’ve grown accustomed to your boyfriend’s warmth next to you; under your head; beneath your palm. His breath against your cheeks and the chin in your mane.
Which is why you tilt your head in slight, approaching worry, leaning into Jungkook’s embrace, his arm over your shoulders. You look at him until he stares back, telling him as the others argue, “This is terrible. I just got used to sleeping with you and…”
But he shakes his head in reassurance, blinking slowly. Gently grabs your hand off his chest and intertwines your fingers, promising that, “It’s okay, babe. Whatever game they want to play, we’ve got this.”
If he says it, you must believe it. Losing would be counterproductive for this trip; you required this time-out with him for the sake of your sanity, considering the weight of the past months.
And thinking about it, you’ve gotten used to his presence too much to sleep without it. You reminisce about the nights he hit the gym late, barely finding time throughout the day as he worked on his exhibit pieces, permanent smudged hues colouring the sides of his hands.
And you, exhausted from work, grazed the other side of the bed with a half sleeping, half restless mind, waking up time and time again to find the mattress empty. Whenever he did come back, sliding into the sheets, you’d notice.
Notice everything.
How he’d kiss your forehead or your temple, whispering your name or a soft, “Hi, angel,” without really expecting a response back. He’d pull you half on top of his body, chest rising with your head atop as he sighed and then, eventually, drifted off.
You think that once or twice, you even heard him breathe a nearly inaudible confession, starting with your new favourite letter L.
But…
It seems that today, luck isn’t quite on your side; different from what he foretold, you haven’t got this. Because mere five minutes later, you’re staring into a group of shaking heads and devastated faces.
Jimin and Yoongi have lost already; and when it’s time to decide between the remaining of you four, it’s not you who breaks into cheerful laughter but the couple you’ve decided to regard with a pout for the rest of the trip.
Unnecessary to mention that Tae and Eun dash into their room once they’ve received the key, quick enough for their suitcases to collide with their soles as they roll behind them. The two remaining duos, among them a sighing Jungkook and a disappointed you, trudge to the bunk bed room without any rush.
Jimin and you sulk your way through the hallways, but Yoongi and Jungkook, you soon notice, remain familiarly posed. You don’t get it; aren’t they upset about the separation?
Your boyfriend at least is still sporting an encouraging smile when you open the door to the frustratingly compact room. The two pairs of bunk beds have a sufficient distance between them, but the beds themselves barely fit a person. You’ve been played so bad.
“And what if we do take the second double room and let fate decide between us?” Jimin suddenly suggests, and you nearly buckle, ready to get into position and lift your fist for another game.
But Yoongi pushes between the two of you, clicking his tongue, “Nah. It’s just two nights, we’ll be moving on after that anyway. Besides,” he sets his suitcase against the left bunk bed, claiming it, and ruffles through his long, dark hair, “we can’t leave the last couple all alone here.”
You smirk in mock, tilting your head, “Ha-ha. You’re way too sure of victory. You wanna try right now, Min—”
“Come on,” Jungkook tries, two heavy hands settling on your shoulders before he moves them down and rubs your shoulders in affection, “solidarity, baby. It’ll be fun.” He moves in, close to your face, kisses your cheek and then whispers into your ear, “We’ll have our room at the beach. And then a whole week just for us, remember?”
Oh, as if you could forget.
Jungkook’s hometown will be the third and last stop of your vacation, a wedding and a childhood bedroom awaiting you. You can’t predict what those days in the countryside will bring, but you refuse to think about them; not because you’re reluctant to go, but because you want the place to surprise you.
Nevermind that the thoughts still seep through all the time; the pure elation.
Your face warms at the thought; you’ve communicated it a million times and will say it a billion times more — you don’t think you’ve ever been this pumped in your life.
No — do not think about it. Let it come to you… carpe diem and all that.
You jump back into the moment, right into the banter, placing your suitcase on the floor and opening it to rummage for today’s outfit. As you shamelessly lay open your entire wardrobe, including some of your best lingerie, you tease, “Okay. I’ll save up my energy. More tonight, boys.”
Jimin blows a raspberry at you; Yoongi waves you off with a grin; and Jungkook barely reacts to you. You assume he’s tired from all the driving, requiring rest more than you, eyes half-lidded.
But if you were in his head, you’d know that he’s long dissociated from the conversation, blending out words, movements, reactions; rather, he merely observes your smile. The playful crease between your eyebrows. The curve of your lips as you speak.
Blinking slowly; lucky for the force of nature wafting into his life like a brisk autumn wind.
Lucky, knowing that somebody could actually care so much.
The pullover doesn’t feel as soft and smooth between your fingertips as it looked from afar. You don’t think you’ll take it. But the beige cardigan felt like a shawl made of accumulated feathers against your body; and Jungkook approved of it, too.
You’re liking the village; maybe it’s the overall dreamy and magical vibe it emanates. It’s redolent of cosy nights spent in front of a fireplace, a hot tea cup warming your palms as you study the view out of a small window, the far-reaching blankets of snow.
And the scent of wooden houses and cinnamon travels through this place — you can’t describe it, but you urge to take all the earthy colours with you.
The pink dress, however, hugging your body like second skin, is bright, the opposite of the cardigan you’ve already settled on buying. It’s a fall dress, comfortable and adaptable to any situation.
You turn in front of the mirror, inspecting your ass, your curves, checking the length and the material for possible flaws. And once you’ve convinced yourself, you push the curtain aside, seeking a second opinion from the man patiently sitting in front of the changing room.
Upon seeing you, his eyes brighten the way they did the last couple of times. Even when he didn’t quite like the item you chose, he seemed happy to just see you. But this time, his pupils flit from button to top, the sparkle in them already obvious as he says, “Damn.”
“I take it you like it as much as I do.”
“Do one of your three sixty spins.”
He loves those. Enjoys it when you present yourself with that treacly smile of yours, arms angled and slightly in the air. And when you come to a stand again, the dress still sways, your eyes questioning, sweet, pure. Jungkook finds joy in this; he could look at you doing this all day.
You keep asking, “Are you bored? Wanna go somewhere else?”
And he always responds, “No. Show me another one of the dresses.”
But no matter how boundless his enthusiasm, he can’t control his occasionally occurring ticks — you know they’re a sign of a nervous mind, watching his fidgety self card through his hair or move his leg or cross and uncross his arms.
So you ask, “You okay?”
“Hm? Yeah. Yeah, I think I’m just tired,” he explains, “driving all day made me drowsy.”
Well, okay, that could be a reason. He does get restless when he craves his bed. Kudos to him for still enduring your slow ass at shopping. You hum before you remind him, “I told you to let me drive.”
“Yes, but…. I like driving,” he shrugs his shoulders, pouting a little, “and you were having fun.”
Honestly—
Fun is a way to call it. You pluck at the hem of the fall dress, recalling the morning with a fond but slightly guilty smile.
“Okay. Lean back now.”
The road was challenging, Jungkook’s voice too quiet to prevail over the music, and you too reckless. Despite the chaos, his grin was telling — though the crinkles and dimples disappeared when half your body turned towards the backseat; right when the car approached a sharp curve.
A harsh hand pushed your beaming self back into your seat, and he spat a single warning, “Angel!”
You’d separated the large group — Jimin was driving the other car, alternating with Taehyung. The journey wasn’t awfully long, but you still went the fair route and split your circle in three versus three, Yoongi residing in the back of your car.
Your car because you’d be driving on to the wedding anyway, and Yoongi would then proceed the vacation in Taehyung’s vehicle. But while your excitement for Jungkook’s hometown didn’t dim a single bit, you were a little sad that you’d be leaving earlier, not getting more time with Yoongi.
Because he vibed. With the right people, you heard, and now witnessed, he vibed.
He sang along with the music in confidence, flashing gummy smirks, DJ-ing with you. Sharing the same taste in music as you, the moments were never dull, 80s classics chiming before modern hip hop took their place. Yoongi likes J. Cole particularly.
The two of you were exhausting, but you did pamper the driver enough to not let your annoying self become too obvious. As in, feeding Jungkook snacks whenever you could, indulging in his favourite music when your tracks ended, offering to drive.
Jungkook remained in a good mood most of the way, but nearing the end, he got edgy, tired, even disregarding Yoongi’s sarcastic suggestion to drive wordlessly.
It took you a moment to understand — Yoongi isn’t a bad driver at all, as you’ve been told by himself, but he’s still not fully healed yet. None of you would make him and he wouldn’t risk it.
Mad respect to Jungkook for suffering through your shenanigans and then still being your anchor as the trouble about the rooms began at the hostel.
You’re a handful — but he has confessed a hundred times before that he’d rather have that than an empty palm.
“No wonder you’re tired,” you tell him, flattening the already crinkle-free dress before you add, “Poor Jimin and Yoongi. Were separated in the cars and now in the hostel, too.”
“I mean,” Jungkook starts, “they both seemed to have a good time on the way, though. Other than that, have they even made stuff official yet?”
Good question. Barely occurred to you yet. You think back to the last couple of weeks, to each of the weekend meetings that you’d summon everybody to in order to discuss the trip. Nothing was said then. Nothing has been said since this morning, either.
So you say, “Kind of by just being with each other the way they are, right? To be honest, I didn’t even think about it. For me, it was already official… didn’t think it’d need an announcement.”
“Maybe you’re right? It’s as much of a secret as we are.”
You break into a grin. “Right?” And then, you straighten your stance, once more turning to show off your ass, too, just for good measure. “What do you think?”
“Oh, you should buy it.”
“Yeah?”
“Well, it’d be good to look at and then fun to rip off.”
You roll your eyes so hard, they nearly disappear from his sight; partly to hide the effect his words practise on you — face hot, chest tight, legs crossed to ease the physical feeling that emerges.
And then, partly to remind him of where he’s sitting right now — not far from an elderly lady who’s currently side-eying you. Weird; just a minute ago she was smiling at you. Ah, decency.
“Ugh, can you only think about that?” you joke, right before wiggling a finger. “This one’s expensive. You’re not ripping off shit.”
“Hey, don’t scold me. You’re just as bad!”
“I’m not! In case you don’t remember, I totally resisted when you offered to come into the changing room with me.”
“Ah, ahhh,” he teases, cocking an eyebrow, “in case you don’t remember, only very reluctantly.” You can’t suppress the laugh, and he joins, familiar creases around his stellar eyes. “But seriously, you look gorgeous.”
“Right! I’ll wear it to your next exhibition, okay? Or the party you’ll definitely host once you’ve established yourself as the nation’s biggest artist.”
And that’s when he finally gets up, groaning a tiny bit before he slaps your ass and rubs it, delighted at your yelp. Challenges you, “Decide whether you want to be cute or sexy. I can’t handle both.”
“But you do every day,” you say, sulking. But your expression returns to normal when he pinches your butt, and you click your tongue, “Okay, okay. We’ll see what you can handle once we get to our next destination.”
Where you’ll finally have your own bedrooms. Your peace. Your mattress to be demolished.
Excited doesn’t do this feeling justice.
Jungkook must be thinking something similar; at least that’s what you ascertain from the way he tongues his inner cheek, shaking his head. You don’t provoke him further — only blow a kiss before you saunter back into the changing room.
You purchase the dress, stepping into the fall air, and move your head left and right in search of the rest of you. You ask, “Have you seen the others? I think we lost them at the souvenir shop, but they might be nearby.”
“Yeah, they went into another souvenir sho— wait, that’s Eun, isn’t it?”
You squint into the distance.
God, this place is like a Christmas market straight from 90s movies. Traditional and homely, domestic and gentle. Oozes some type of warmth that defeats the slightly chill breeze by miles.
And you’re so loving the shops. They’re small, their owners as hospitable as you haven’t met in ages. They talk to you, treat you like one of their own, never attempting awkward conversation and always providing their honest opinion. The lady you just bought the dress from even told you to visit again.
Shit, and the stalls! They’re popular spots; the backbone of the tourism in this area. Sell all kinds of snacks — candied fruits, hot drinks, gingerbread. October hasn’t ended yet, but you crave your golden Christmas lights.
Somewhere not too far, you finally recognise Eun and Yoongi, too, standing at the punch stall, ordering. Thinking about it, it’s been a while since you ate or drank — and just imagining the fruity flavour, you can’t help but suggest, “Ohhh, I should get some, too. Wanna come?”
Jungkook doesn’t answer right away. Your suspicion from before somewhat returns; his thoughts don’t seem to align with yours right now. In fact, you guess them far away, pondering about anything but punch.
You’re moved to ask again, but before you can utter a word, he answers, “Hmm, no, I think I’ll get a coffee a bit later. I’ll go find Jimin and Taehyung in the meantime, though? You go get your punch.”
You blink at him, not sure if you should try again. But when you can’t find a reason for any deviation in mood, you give him the free space he might need, telling him, “Okay. You know where to find us if you need to.”
“Got it,” he says, leaning in to kiss your forehead, and then walks away when you do.
Just once more, you turn, gaping over your shoulder in confusion; but he seems okay. Occupied by the view, craning his neck to look at the mountain nearby, at the very peak you’ll reach tomorrow.
So you turn away, only for him to regard you a moment later.
Jungkook watches as you reach your friend, Eun’s arm cheerfully wrapping around your shoulders, welcoming you in. You give the stall owner a knockout smile, and once distracted enough, Jungkook directly charges for the shop the two of you walked past earlier.
It’s still mostly empty when he reaches it. One young man, much like him, is standing inside, discussing an object lying on the pult between him and the seller. Jungkook glances through the store window, spying the object of his desire, and then walks in.
Enduringly, he waits for the other man to finish. Seems he is a customer, too, buying his grandmother a gift for her birthday. And it looks like he’s more or less firm on his decision, because not even two minutes later, he has thanked the woman behind the counter and left.
Jungkook, equally determined, points to the purchase he’d like to make, making small-talk with the woman now and then before she disappears in a small room at the back and packs the object.
And Jungkook waits… waits calmly until a voice breathes a, “What you doing?” into his ears, scaring him to death. The woman leans back, peeking, alarmed as she asks in an accent, “Everything good?”
Jungkook waves her concerns off. Lets her work. Turns to Jimin as he says, “Goddamn, dude. Don’t do that.”
“You look like you saw a ghost. Are you hiding something?” he asks, right before the lady walks out and presents the pretty packaging and small bag to Jungkook. “Oh! Is this for me?”
Jungkook pays with a scoff, carefully placing it in his bag and then laughs, “C’mon.” And once the rucksack is back on his shoulders, he bids his goodbyes to the seller, leading Jimin outside and whispering as if you could hear, “Alright. It’s for her. I’ll give it to her at the wedding.”
“Damn, a little present for the date at a wedding? You’re down bad.”
“How did you guess that?” Jimin chuckles, patting Jungkook’s back as the younger one smirtles. Soon telling Jimin, “Not a word to her, though. Or anyone. Okay?”
“My lips are sealed.”
That’s it. At least for a while. Both pairs of hands pushing into their jeans’ pockets at once, they trek side by side in silence, head moving left, right, up and down. It’s awkward until it isn’t — until Jimin collects some courage and then spits, “Listen.”
Another pause. Just for a moment. Enough for Jungkook’s tremendous eyes to look up, a finger scratching his temple as he hears Jimin articulate words he never expected, “I know I said my piece that night already, but…” A grimace, kissing his lips, then, “I’m really sorry for doubting you so much at first. I should’ve given you a chance much sooner.”
Well, fuck.
For weeks and months, Jimin refused to trust him with a steadfast resolution. Didn’t waver even when you attempted to convince him otherwise. There was a prickly dislike in the man’s eyes that irked Jungkook, and frankly, saddened him a little.
But the night you drunk-called him, begging to come back, minutes before he chauffeured all of you home, something shifted. Jimin’s stance towards Jungkook had seemed to change, at least. Actually a grateful occurrence to think back to, considering how much Jungkook fucked up at that time…
“But you have given me a chance now,” Jungkook defends, Jimin nodding, “and I appreciate that just as much.”
“You remember what I said to you back then?”
Of course… he might remember each detail of that night forever.
“Of course,” Jungkook echoes, “you said you were growing fond of me. Trusted me.”
“And I meant it.”
“She said you said it because you knew she was fond of me.”
Jimin chuckles, the sound high-pitched and pleasant, melodic. “Well, I guess that’s true to some extent. But it’s definitely not just that.” He reviews his thoughts; then, “It’s more so the fact that you came back.”
That he came back.
Jimin doesn’t mention that he came back because you called. Because somewhere within, he must know as well as the man beside him that Jungkook was going to come back anyway.
Nobody here doubts his feelings for you. And in some way, this is a reassurance of trust he didn’t think he needed.
“And in hindsight,” Jimin speaks on, “while I disagree with what you did before that,” a sting in Jungkook’s beating heart, “I think your reasons were selfless. Lack of communication here and there, but… you want her happy, right?”
There’s no debate about this.
“So much,” Jungkook immediately agrees, “it just doesn’t make sense, you know? That someone like her should be sad.”
“I agree. And you came back, that’s what it is. You’re here. I think I was fond of you because you gave her a sense of… safety.” He shrugs his shoulders, hands still buried in his pockets. Gives a glance to the variety of passersby. “Making her feel protected and like she was worth something when others didn’t. And in turn, you gave her something to fight for, too.”
Something to fight for… someone to fight for.
How hard is it to wrap your head around the fact that somebody thinks you worthy enough to combat the world for?
Jungkook’s heart stirs. A sudden affection for your friend awakens. No. His friend, too.
“You’re just half as bad, huh?” he says, urging another laugh out of Jimin.
“No, you.” More snicker. “But seriously. Since we were teenagers and she was first confronted with… all the issues around her, she’s repeated to me everybody has demons to fight. A couple weeks ago she said it again… added that you do, too. No details, no worries!”
He raises his hand in defence, and Jungkook shakes his concerns off, mumbling that it’s okay, that it’s true.
So Jimin continues, “But just… whenever you might feel like you’re not doing enough — because let’s be real, we all do sometimes — remember that you make at least one person happy.”
Crazy. This is crazy. An alternate reality, for sure.
“I never expected to hear this from you, but… I really am thankful, Jimin.”
Jimin nods before he stops, as if remembering something. “And if it helps. I’m really glad you joined us here. I mean you know Tae and Yoongi better, but Eun loves you.”
Jungkook titters, shy as Jimin nudges his arm, but silencing when he looks ahead, not early enough to stop Jimin’s addition, “And by the way, she’ll love that. Will feel like the bride, probably—”
Jungkook grits his teeth at the very last word, as if staggered by another ghost appearing in front. Jimin’s eyes follow Jungkook’s, eyes widening a couple inches as he realises his mistake; met with your bright gaze as you near the men with Eun and question, “What are you guys talking about?”
You’re so cheerful and curious, impossible to resist. Jimin’s lie nearly doesn’t come out, but when it does, it happens smoothly enough, “He was just gushing about your dress. Told me how he already knows you’ll be the talk of the night.”
“Come onnnn,” you urge, your smile falling, replaced by a scowl, “this is so weak. I know you, Park. That’s not what you were talking about.”
“It is!” Jungkook chimes in as shamelessly as he can. Guilt floods him — but there are certain sacrifices that are necessary for love, aren’t there? “I told you many times how hot you look in it. I did, you can’t contradict that.”
Jungkook’s acting might be getting better, but you still squint your eyes, still pulling a face. But it seems they are conspiring against you; Jungkook clearly sees you give up. Understand that you won’t get anything out of them.
Besides, you love surprises. You won’t ruin it for yourself.
So you wave the white flag, only saying, “I don’t really believe you, but okay,” before turning, gripping Jungkook’s hand and adding, “Listen. You don’t get to drink a good punch every day. Screw the coffee, try it for me. Yoongi is still there.”
And as the two of you walk away, Jimin follows, ignoring Eun’s curious look. Focuses on how Jungkook turns to him just a little, smiling in mischief but also in something like…
Friendship.
Jungkook has been babbling his mouth dry. You know of his temporary hyperfixations; alternating between cooking twice a day, karaoke-ing his way through a lazy weekend or playing Overwatch for four hours straight and of course, you.
Tonight, it’s gimbap.
You’ve heard a ton about it today; from his favourite kind to how it’s made to failures in his past as he first attempted them. Anecdotes and urges.
When you went to the restaurant earlier, he inhaled a gigantic portion of jjajangmyeon, followed by kimchi-bokkeumbap that he partly shared with your still hungry self. His idea was to order some gimbap as another course, but his grunts and groans revealed that he was done for the night.
Or so you thought.
Because hours and a trip to the old town and its popular fountain later, he’s still craving them, restless on the hostel lobby couch as he says, “Do they have room service or something? Do they sell gimbap?”
His attention is directed towards Jimin, the main organiser of your trip; everybody’s been posing questions today as if he’s studied the town and journey to the tiniest detail. Jimin rubs a palm over his tired eyes, sighing before he speaks.
“No, this isn’t a very luxurious place anyway,” he explains, “and besides. You’re making me hungry, too.”
Jungkook leans into him as he asks, “Aren’t you quite close with the receptionist?” Pause. “Do you think they’d let us take a couple things from the kitchen and make it ourselves?”
“Wow, you really are craving it,” Taehyung mocks, but Jungkook skillfully ignores him.
“Jungkook, this is a lot of special treatment to ask for,” Jimin then claims, waiting for a response, but nothing comes back.
You lean forwards when your friend shakes his head, trying to understand what’s going on. And when you find Jungkook’s big, twinkling eyes staring longingly, you know he’s gotten to Jimin, too. Because the latter sighs again, adding, “If you charm them, maybe.”
“Come on. I know how to charm people,” he says, regarding you with a wink, a flick of your chin and a click of his tongue, all at once. You whisper a playfully indignant Damn, watching him get to a stand.
He’s brave, you must say; for an initial and past introvert, good food certainly makes him courageous. Jimin first gestures towards the reception, mumbling a, “Go ahead,” but barely a second later, he’s on his feet with a deep exhale, hearing Jungkook say, “Decided to help me?”
“Only because I’m hungry, too. Can make them together.”
Whatever scenario you just witnessed, it could’ve been one from a sitcom. Those little filler scenes, there for comic relief. But what strikes you the most of all is the dynamic you just watched emerge.
You’re surprised to the core; these two, doing something together? Peacefully? Voluntarily?
As your eyes bolt from the duo to the hanging guitar at the wall and then to your friends, you let out a tiny laugh, delivering a short head tilt before you deduce, “That’s new.”
It’s quite a show, the one you observe from here. Your friends are already too groggy to converse, instead indulging in the scene: Jungkook and Jimin as they converse with the receptionist, leaning in, telling the young man about their day.
Then, the quiet plea, as sweetly uttered as possible; you know these two. You know they’re pulling out the biggest, brownest eyes the world shall ever see, the mellowest voices outing their plea — and to your utter surprise, the receptionist gives in.
Leads them to another room, probably the breakfast hall, and around five minutes later, they reemerge.
Your group giggles when they come out with a wink, Jungkook forming a tiny ‘Oh’ with his mouth, as if to whistle without ever doing it. They don’t come back to you yet; settle on another table at the back instead, hands full of ingredients. There’s more room there for sure.
They spread the stuff across the table, rolling up their sleeves. You can’t really hear their conversation from here, but Jungkook says something and Jimin smirks back with a slight shake of his shoulders. Then, they start, but not before choosing a playlist to play quietly as they attempt the gimbap journey.
You can’t believe it. What an odd sight — but good for them.
“That’s rare indeed,” Eun lets slip before she turns back to you and the group, falling back into the couch.
You nod, looking through the round. Different from the two across the room, the atmosphere here is dead. So you wait; wait for an opportunity until Yoongi, opposite from you, gives you one. His eyes roam the room, soon stopping at the guitar from before. He regards it entirely, like a piece in a museum.
You ask, “Hey. Do you play?”
“Hm?” Yoongi looks back at you, puppy eyes in full effect, and then switches between you and the instrument. “Ah. Yeah, I play sometimes.”
“He plays all the time,” Taehyung corrects.
Yoongi raises a hand in something like defence, humble as ever as he says, “I’ve been learning. But I think I have gotten better, though there’s still a long way to go.”
“Any song you enjoy playing the most?” you ask, leaning in.
“Ohh, you’ll like this.” His eyes are widening, waking, sobering up. As you see new stars being born in his dark eyes, you know you’ve introduced the right topic. “You like oldies, don’t you?”
“I do, actually! How do you know?”
Taehyung chimes in, “Jungkook told us. Like literal months ago.”
Perhaps it’s the new sentiments you’re still accommodating yourself to, but you feel the heat filling up your entire chest, moving up to your cheeks and providing warmth in the eye of this autumn.
You peek at your boyfriend and your friend, catching them falling into a goofy cooking session. Jimin grabs the dark soy sauce bottle, attempting to pour the liquid on his plate with the most dramatic expression you have ever witnessed, only to realise a moment later that he hasn’t even opened it yet.
Both of them break into an embarrassed and amused chuckle, Jimin shaking his head, and before you can melt into the leather couch, you look away with a smile.
“Wait,” you say, “in which context? I’m nosy, and now I want to know.”
“He said Yoongi would like you because your favourite song is… what was it again?”
Taehyung directs his gaze imploringly to Yoongi, but it’s Eun who answers fondly, “It’s Can’t Take My Eyes off You. Ever since… always.”
You cock an eyebrow at Yoongi, teasing, “So is it true? Do you like me then?”
“I adore you.”
Your face heats up more. “You didn’t tell me what you like playing the most.”
“I would say I enjoy…”
“Or wait. Don’t tell me. What if you played it?”
“Now hold on—”
Energised, you take a stand, throwing a look at the receptionist who locks eyes with you at just the right moment. You point to the guitar, and he lifts his hand to gesture, “Go ahead, please.”
You take the guitar off its hook, grazing over the smooth, wooden surface and skimming the strings for a tiny moment. Relishing the familiar feeling. And then, encouragingly, you hand it to the man of the hour, telling him, “I know you want to.”
Yoongi is uncaring and unapologetically him, but he’s just as shy when met with attention. Yet, you know him enough to understand he often does whatever somebody asks of him, so you’re barely surprised when he flashes a thin-lipped smile and agrees, “Yeah. Alright.”
He situates the guitar on his lap carefully, treating it like a newborn as he mutters at the same time, “What should I play? Maybe this?”
His fingers strum a few chords that you don’t recognise, tough ceasing when he starts working on tuning the guitar. It takes a moment; a time you spend in silence, watching Taehyung for a second as he props up his head, eyelids half closed.
You shrug your shoulders, telling Yoongi, “Whatever crosses your mind first.”
He doesn’t answer, handling the instrument. He’s focused, his lips slightly apart, his expression impossibly composed. He murmurs another, “This should do,” and when he plays just the first three chords, you already know what he’s chosen.
Sounds like an acoustic version of the song. Like it could be played at a wedding, plucking the strings in the background as the bride marches to her groom, fitting the theme of the song.
“Which one’s this?” Eun asks, leaning into Taehyung who’s barely alive at this point. The music probably doesn’t help.
But apart from him, most of the heads turn, even if just very few present. There’s a quiet couple near Jimin and Jungkook’s table, smiling at the pleasant intrusion. The receptionist puts his lower arms onto the counter, listening in.
And then, eyes still fixated on the fingers skillfully mastering each note, you clarify, “Dance Me to the End of Love. Leonard Cohen originally, but this seems like a very… calm version of it.”
Yoongi nods a little, never stopping the music, but adds, “The Civil Wars. Covered it.”
“Right.”
The ambiance changes immediately. You wish you could lower the lights, embrace all that you hear, save it in your eardrums like a memory stick could. From afar, you notice luminous eyes directed at you, blinking slowly, hands still working, but giving you some momentary attention.
Is Jungkook thinking the same as you? If he stood now, gently pulling you into the middle of the room, would you care who watches as you dance? Could this be the magical moment that soon awaits you in a very near future? Swaying at the wedding…
You break the longing gaze when Jimin nudges Jungkook’s elbow, chin nodding towards your group as if the latter isn’t already watching. It seems they have advanced, nearly done with their endeavours. Not too long until they can join you again.
Another minute passes until Yoongi proceeds to the bridge and the peak of the song, and then another until he’s reached the end. Calm, soft thrums. Fading slowly, snapping you out of something you didn’t know just yet.
Heavy affection crowds your chest, lifting all sorrows off your heart. You’re filled with fondness. Empty of pain. Weighing everything and nothing.
Yoongi looks up at you with another awkward smile, still humble, his lips a straight line. The few people in the room applaud quietly, and as he puts the guitar down, you ask, “And how did that feel?”
“Surprisingly…” Yoongi angles his head, and then changes the movement into a nod. “Comforting.”
“Isn’t that special? Feeling something through the very music you put your soul into?”
It’s how you feel when you write. Probably how Jungkook feels when he draws. To possess something, be it creative or not, that floods you with joy like this is priceless. You think back to when you wrote your first poem. Or when you crafted your very first short story.
The memories are blurred, but you remember the feeling. Putting the dot at the end of the very last sentence. And then, you remember more than just this.
Remember when your father taught you how to play the piano, too, and remember when he—
“You play?” Yoongi suddenly asks, and you look up in surprise.
Oh. What? Your eyes widen, eyebrows lifting, mouth wanting to ask what he said, even though you know exactly which question he posed. But you soon break into a satisfied grin.
“How do you know?” you wonder.
“You talk like you do.”
“I didn’t want to give any spoilers,” Eun confesses from the side, comfortably closing into Taehyung, “so I didn’t say anything. But I’ve heard her play.”
“Ah,” you voice, “not often. Was I any good?”
“As much as I remember.”
Your eyes wander back to Yoongi, the man already working on handing you the guitar over the table between the two of you. You puff out a breath, nearly declining, but then recall that he did this for you, too.
So you grab it for the moment, explaining, “I… I play a little. Dad taught me the guitar and a bit of the piano when I was younger.” You mimic Yoongi’s gestures from before, making yourself comfortable with the bottom of the guitar on top of one leg. “Always enjoyed the guitar more, though. Felt productive, feeling the cornea on my fingertips.”
“Damn…” Taehyung makes, and you smile at him, nodding as if to say, “You’re alive, too!”
“Then you should definitely play something,” Eun says.
“You’re all okay with that?”
“Please,” Yoongi confirms, gesturing for you to start, “you don’t need our permission at all.”
So you nod. Getting used to the steely feeling, preparing mentally as you don’t need to tune the guitar anymore. You start the song in mind, an equally important oldie as Yoongi’s piece; and then you go another brave step further as you start humming.
You wish Taehyung, Jungkook or Jimin could do that for you. They’re better singers. You’re alright, certainly not a pro, singing your words rather quietly when you do start. But it provides you with deep relaxation, and you inwardly hope your voice does the same for the others.
“Wise men say, only fools rush in…”
You don’t know why you chose this song. You don’t know why you didn’t settle with your usual choice. Something about the moment and the starry night urged you to pick out this very melody, holding onto the charm and spark tingling in the air.
Yoongi, an introvert among so many extroverts in your circle, is the one who chimes in soon, singing the chorus and then moving to the third verse. You entrust him with the latter, giving you time to open your eyes that you didn’t realise were shut.
You see the two boys at the end of the room finally emerge, slowly treading towards you with full plates. They plump onto the free seats right under the wall where the guitar previously hung, placing the gimbap in the middle of the table.
Taehyung helps himself to one portion, Eun soon following, but Jungkook…
Jungkook seems to have forgotten about it. He walked to you from one spot to where you sit, but as he looks at you now, you wonder how he moved at all. So mesmerised, like a flawless statue, bambi eyes filled with a tenderness you thought only exists on TV.
If you could guess, you’d say he’s looking at you like… like he’d die for you.
Love. Yearning. Affection uncurbed.
He cradles his cheek, putting his elbow on the arm of the couch, lost as if he’s dreaming. He could fully throw you out of balance just now. If you hadn’t played this song with your father a dozen times, committing each movement to memory, you probably would’ve long failed.
You shut your eyes for a moment enough to catch yourself, hearing Yoongi finish another chorus when you suddenly hear another switch in voices. Jungkook, singing the outro, so effortlessly and tenderly; the tone so angelic without even trying.
You could fall asleep. You could fall deeper.
You never knew you could.
Jungkook is the living proof that, despite not being the biggest sap to walk the Earth, you’ve grown fond of his little gestures. You didn’t think you could feel so shy over the way he kisses the air in your direction, expression so hazy.
A couple months ago, you would’ve never expected not to roll your eyes over his little, gentle antics.
But you’re not. Instead, you’re trying not to let show how much he affects you, nodding towards the applause before you ask, “So I take it, it was good?”
“Good?!” Eun blurts in disbelief, leaving it at that with a shake of her head.
“You keep surprising me, angel,” Jungkook admits, “I don’t know what to do with this anymore.”
“With what?”
He’s close enough for his mouth to kiss your cheek, an eyebrow lifting in tease as he puts a hand on his heart. This time, you do roll your eyes, albeit still going in when he gives your lips the tiniest peck.
Your heart is still in the process of accelerating when he asks, “You chose the right song, didn’t you?”
Yeah. A little dose of Elvis’s Can’t Help Falling in Love fits the situation quite well, doesn’t it?
You merely answer with a flattered smile, nearly going in for another, longer kiss; another touch in your own little bubble, suspending time and the world. But your manners demand differently, so you resist, leaning back.
Only taking his hand until the group comes alive a little more, feasting on the midnight snack that the men handled pretty well. The group changes up with time, seats abandoned and taken, switched with another, the guitar cautiously passed on to Yoongi again.
And then they sing some more. You listen, head on Jungkook’s shoulder, dozing in and out of sleep, in and out of his embrace.
Taehyung is soon encouraged to sing a couple, gorgeous snippets of Fly Me to the Moon, a signature song for him and his baritone voice, as Yoongi and Jungkook assure you. You don’t know when this became a session of nostalgic karaoke, remembering a time you never experienced.
It’s how you pictured these nights to end. Nearly falling into a slumber before the day concludes.
Surrounded by a warmth incomparable to a bonfire; one you’ve been yearning for your entire life.
The end of the night begins with an argument.
Yoongi and Jimin are busy preparing themselves for bed, surprisingly cool-headed after the tumult this morning. They don’t struggle with choosing their comfort in the room, while you pull at Jungkook’s leg as it dangles off the upper bed.
“I’m going to come up,” you warn, trying to tickle the bottom of his foot before he crosses his legs, smirking down at you. “And I will be so annoying.”
“Is that news?” he wonders, and you open your mouth wide in surprise, hearing a chuckle from the couple behind you.
“Babe. I called shots on the upper bunk.”
“You did not.”
“It’s a lot more fun up there. And I thought you’d like sleeping down there.”
Jungkook’s eyebrows kiss, his expression questioning as he asks, “What made you think that?”
Well, now that you think of it, your presumptions were flawed. You assumed he wasn’t too picky, always a deep and peaceful sleeper at home. Defeated, you shrug your shoulders, telling him, “You had a mattress on the floor when you moved into the apartment.”
“That’s… an impeccable argument. I can’t even respond to it.”
The sarcasm drips out of his voice like a damaged tap, and once he shifts to the wall, pressing his back against it, you understand your half childlike, half playful pleading won’t work. So you only tilt your head, squinting his eyes at him, and then drop onto the bed below him.
“Don’t you fart, though,” you tell him, registering a goofy laugh with a fond smile. It’s okay. Maybe tomorrow. Either way, it’s worse than not having him beside you at all.
Yoongi switches off the light, ready to sleep as he falls into his bed with a groan. It was a long day and you walked miles, so you understand his fatigue. You expect for them to snore within a moment, but to your astonishment, Jimin starts a conversation not a minute later.
“We were lucky with the weather. I bet it’s raining back at home.”
Oh… have you finally grown into the type of adults who smalltalk about the sun and the clouds? The precipitation and humidity?
Jungkook answers, “Closer to the equator. The weather is best over here in the fall.”
Then, Yoongi, “Hopefully it’s as nice at the beach, too.”
“It better be,” Jimin chimes in, “I’ve been looking forward to our game for ages. I’ll play in the rain if need be.”
“Oh god, can you imagine?” you add, switching to your left side, hands under your temple. You’ve been thinking about the game just as much — chaos with a big fat portion of craze. “We wouldn’t even be able to get up if it rained.”
“We’d get nowhere,” Jungkook confirms, and you imagine him nodding towards the ceiling, arms under his head.
“That’s what. Doesn’t it sound fun? Wouldn’t matter anyway… the rain would at least kill my competitive side, you know?” Jimin jests, and you already send a prayer above. Not for rain, but for bright sunshine; you cannot miss the ruthless, cut-throat battle that will emerge.
And as if you predicted it, knowing very well who strives for a win and who doesn’t, Jungkook challenges, “Your competitive side means nothing if you’re gonna lose anyway.”
“Dude. Be careful. There’ll be nothing but regret if we end up being on the same team,” Jimin says.
“True, true,” you hear Jungkook respond, just as Yoongi lets out an amused snicker, aligning with your muttered, “Now, that, I wanna see.”
The banter and chatter proceeds for another couple minutes, up to the point where Yoongi needs to shush the quartet. Your laughter ebbs down after his reprimands, morphing into content and tired sighs.
And once the conversation has more or less died, you wonder, “Do we need to sleep? We could just stay awake and talk all night.”
But your suggestion proves redundant — because barely two minutes later, your breathing evens out, calm as you finally drift away. Not a single word anymore. Jungkook rolls over his bed, casting a brief look at you, not quite seeing your face in the dark, but understanding that you’ve fallen asleep.
You can’t stay silent for this long; and you’re not moving. Jungkook clicks his tongue, fond but a tease as he jokes, “I drove all day and still she falls asleep first.”
Yoongi and Jimin’s laughs are cautiously quiet, exhausted, soon giving way to deep breaths like yours until they’ve fallen asleep, too.
Weirdly, it takes some time until Jungkook can join your land of dreams. There’s a strange yearning in his chest that he’s well used to by now; it thoroughly sucks to not have you by his side. And… is this too much?
The affection poured into and onto you, is he doing too much? Feeling too much? Why are his fingers itching and his chest not warm enough, despite the pleasant weather?
You’ve really done a number on him.
The minutes prove long, soon stretching to what he perceives as hours. Jungkook doesn’t know how much time has passed and he refuses to fish out his phone again; the light of the device will only postpone sleep, and he cannot use that for the trip tomorrow.
“Man…” Jungkook quietly complains, letting his left arm swing between the bed rails.
Sleep isn’t an entity to grace him just yet anyway; because as around an hour passes, he hears a sound from below. Sheets shifting, a light groan from you. You sigh audibly, soon going silent, and when he thinks you’re off again, he hears a couple seconds later—
“Kook?”
No, he must be insane. It must be insane how his heart stirs at your tiny, wispy voice. You wash over him like… relief.
“Baby,” he calls out in a whisper, once more moving to look at you — or the darkness below. “You’re awake?”
“Can’t sleep properly. I really hate sleeping in other beds…”
“Right? Me too.” He reaches out for you, hoping you’ll notice the movement, and when your soft fingers get ahold of two of his digits, he breathes out in gratification. “And… I miss you here.”
You hum, rubbing your thumb over his palm, mumbling, “Isn’t it ridiculous? How we can’t go a night like this.”
“Hmm…”
“I miss you, too.”
Patience is a virtue he hasn’t learned yet when it comes to you.
He could wait hours for a hall in the museum to fill. For a visitor to comment on his pieces. He could sit in a room with his father, attempting a conversation; could attempt his whole life to sway your mother’s thoughts. All possible.
But you… distanced from your touch and your lips, not feeling your breath as he does every night is…
Pretty damn shit.
“Wait,” he murmurs, pulling his fingers out of your grip. He hears you mutter a small, “Huh?” as he moves, careful to not hurt himself in the dark.
For the smallest moments, he uses the light of his display to navigate through the limited space, never daring to turn on the flashlight to not wake the entire room. And once he’s touching the ground, agile as a cat, you understand what he’s trying to do.
Quietly, but inefficiently, you protest with just half a heart when he climbs into your bed, telling you to scoot. You say, “Uhm, I… Baby, I don’t know if it’s a good idea—”
But you don’t seem to have much of a say in this matter — because you’re soon outnumbered by Jungkook and his obsession with you, shifting on the bed until you’re nearly pressed against the wall.
He wraps an arm around your waist before the tight space can suffocate you, soon leaning back a little — close to rolling off the mattress? — and pulling you close. The embrace catches your breath more than the cramped area, but it stops your complaints, too.
Winding a little more, you soon find yourself breathing against his chest, a heartbeat right underneath. Your arm reflexively sneaks around him, hugging him close before he laughs and teases, “You were saying?”
“I… I was saying you feel so warm.”
“Mmmh,” he hums, towing you in impossibly close, planting a kiss on your head before resting his cheek against it, “you are, too.”
“Do I feel better than your bed up there?”
“A lot better.” His palm flattens over your back; the scent of his shampoo, his fabric softener and him dizzies you. “Makes me feel a bit less sorry about keeping you awake.”
“Don’t worry,” you sigh into his soft cotton shirt, feeling the lines of his pecs against your lips, “Am exhausted. I’ll fall asleep fast. Especially like this…”
“Oh… glad to be of service then.”
You nod, rubbing his shirt between your fingertips as he moves his hand up and down your lower back, just a little. He yawns against your hair; you know the telltale signs of a drifting mind.
The two of you have gotten used to this. It’s said that pressing something comforting against your chest, such as a pillow or stuffed toy, works wonders on an insomniac mind. You guess that’s what you are for each other.
Even when you’re not home. Even when the space barely suffices for one body.
Which, as you brood over his sudden presence next to you, reminds you—
“You wanted the upper bunk bed,” you tell him. Nothing more; he understands without you needing to elaborate.
He chuckles as quietly as possible to not wake your friends, his hand slipping under your shirt and feather lightly pinching your sides. Not enough to hurt, but enough to tickle you. You nearly yelp, muffling it against his clothes in time.
“Shut up,” he says, thumb running over where he nipped you. “Okay. Do you know why I wanted you to sleep down here?”
You smile. You’re not stupid. As your vision became blurry, your mind shutting just a while ago, the realisation dawned upon you as the seemingly last thought of the night.
“I think I do…” you admit. “I think I figured it out.”
Because.
Because you’ve fallen out of bed one too many times. Because of some days, when you weren’t nestled in his arms as you are now, not caged in solidly, overworked and stressed. Or when you let go of each other in the middle of the night.
And that’s when you rattled down the bed. Just once or twice!
You never got injured or anything, getting away with perhaps a tiny bruise. What was worse was the fond laughter you tolerated when you told him about it, or when he was there and realised. Worried sick, inspecting your body, but still shaking his head in amusement.
Chuckling as he pushed back your hair, but relieved when he found nothing out of the ordinary.
“I’m not gonna risk your clumsy ass to fall off a bunk bed,” he says.
“There’s a raili—”
“Still. One never knows with you. In any case… you’re not getting hurt on vacation, okay?”
You could coo right here, right now. Whisper his name a million times in disbelief and absolute gratitude, melt into him, dampen his shirt. Jungkook is a thoughtful being, alright, but it’s insane that with you, he thinks half a dozen steps ahead.
Mind empty of a response as worthy as his, you settle on a joke, “Is that right? We’ll see about that once we play the game.”
You finish your sentence dramatically, and he answers with a breathy, “Yeah, yeah,” as he kisses your temple. Careful to keep his back off the ladder leading up to his bed, you keep him in your hug, soon detecting in a whisper, “I really mean so much to you.”
“Mhm… So very much.”
It’s too dark to see his expressions clearly; you see him move, see the white of his eyes a little. But even without it, you know he’s blended out the world when you look up at him. You know he’s staring back quietly.
You know what he’s feeling as the tip of his nose touches yours, the bangs of his growing hair grazing your forehead. And when the finger under your shirt draws circles on your skin, touching you so gently, you feel your heart in your throat, hear it in your ears.
Pumping, pumping hard when you see the silhouette’s mouth part before it arrives at yours. Kisses you tenderly. Doesn’t rush or force his tongue in, just lazily moving.
He cradles your face a moment later, raising your head some more, tilting it as much as possible. The kiss is more like a sequence of innocent pecks, but maybe that’s why the moment feels so intimate.
Because there’s no impatience. No other sentiment but adoration.
As he moves back again, he doesn’t talk right away. Takes a deep breath. Then—
He brushes your tresses aside, away from your temple as his thumb rubs against it gently. His lips hover close to yours, and much like the ever-blooming tiger lily on his golden skin conveys, he whispers, “Love me?”
Your heart.
This treacherous thing — cries and flutters, punctured and whole at once. You’re constantly breathless and speechless, so you wonder how he manages to say, “Please love me, too.”
Doesn’t he know how easy that is? Doesn’t he know who he truly is, what his stardust of a soul is made of? That he was born to be loved. That he’s not responsible for those who do not, rather a ray of serene moonlight who doesn’t need to show anyone that he’s just that.
“No need to beg,” you tell him, “you’ll never need to beg.”
Another beat of silence. He’s smiling, you know. Keeping his heart at bay as much as you are guarding yours. Does he think the same way about you as you do about him?
Of course. Probably. In some sense, you were in the same sinking boat, surrounded by an overwhelming, troubled ocean of doubt; waves of self-hatred drowning you. You know exactly what it’s like to get used to being unloved by everyone; and then to learn to be loved again.
You clear your throat, feeling his body relax; your head returns to his chest, and you say, “You know. It might be a bit uncomfortable, but we could make it work. It’s not that tight—”
“In theory. But we wouldn’t sleep well, right?” he ponders.
Wrong. You soon prove him wrong, unpredictable as you are half of the time when you’re not being familiar to him like the back of his hand.
Because your words soon become slurred, silent not much after, your breathing calm and warm against his chest. Your tiny fist still holds onto his shirt, the blanket alternatively slipping either off him or you.
So he waits until your grip around him loosens. Then, presses a light kiss to your lips, carefully moving away and out of your bed. Ignoring how you hold onto him until the last moment, scared you might awaken again; murmuring in your sleep as you tend to do.
He gently rubs your fist until you uncurl your fingers around his shirt; if he doesn’t do this, he’ll stay here all night. Instead, he furrows his eyebrows in chagrin and yearning; and when your hands move back under your head, he finally bids the first day goodbye and climbs back up.
Eventually descending into dreams of you, too.
DAY 2
The air is much colder up here than you thought.
You can’t recall ever having been on a mountain before; considering your country’s geography, a very ordinary thing that you never really got to experience. Your parents were fans of beaches all over the nation and the globe; didn’t enjoy heights, but depths.
You knew that early on.
Satisfied, however, you hide your mouth in your jacket. You’re glad Eun talked you into packing a thicker jacket and gloves, giving half a dozen logical arguments like the amazing lawyer that she could be. It was fun, packing suitcases together via video calls.
But the wind still hits your ears harshly, and you curse as you get off the cable railway, “Damn it.”
Jimin rubs your arms from behind, the ecstasy clear as day as he cheers, “Come on, no pauses now! We finally made it.”
That you did. No turning back. You’ve wanted this for so long. So you follow the others, walking beside Eun. Her legs are slightly longer than yours, and her steps wider. She proceeds a little faster, so you soon hook your arm with hers, urging yourself to catch up.
You’re relieved when you reach a small platform overlooking not much but the mountain lift and all the stops till the ground. Down below, you recognise the entrance you bought your tickets at.
Sometimes, along the descent of the mountain, you spot people hiking. They don’t take the lift; they trek up and down, with these cool hiking sticks of theirs.
Jungkook and Taehyung didn’t come with you. Or rather, they’ll arrive a bit after you. Namjoon rang up Jungkook just before you got ready to leave, asking for his apprentice’s time. Something about the gallery and the exhibit.
Yet, extremely sorry, Namjoon told him he could call back later, but Jungkook insisted on listening to what his mentor had to say, presuming it was urgent enough for an interruption in his vacation. And Taehyung stayed with him — partly to not leave him alone, and partly because he’s always dreamed of making an acquaintance with an art connoisseur like Namjoon.
Taehyung apparently has a big thing for art. The only reason Jungkook let him stay at all.
Because when you suggested the same, he rejected your idea without flinching once, prompting you to enjoy these valuable days instead of hanging around at the quiet hostel with him. It took some persuasion and a tender, “Angel, as much as I want you here, I won’t be able to talk to you anyway. I’ll be there in no time.”
So here you are now, content when cold but pleasant air caresses your face. You take in the high trees and the picturesque mountain range; somewhere in the far back, at the horizon, there’s another higher, snow-capped mountain.
And you look for a while, arms wrapped around your knees. Eun remains in a similar position, enjoying the moment; Yoongi and Jimin decide to bask in their joy by capturing the experience in snapped pictures.
Ten minutes later, your group decides to walk on, tramping up a short distance to a bridge Yoongi mentioned earlier. And you guess that’s where your serenity ends.
Because the bridge isn’t as short as you thought. Moves a little, mostly solid, but… holy shit, were you this high up all the time? They say don’t look down in moments like these, but you can’t help, and God, there’s an immeasurable distance between you and the ground and—
It’s not immeasurable. No, you’re an idiot. But you still can’t help it; stare down, gulp.
You reach to the railing with a careful hand. Why do they… how do they…
The others are doing it so easily. The other tourists. And Jimin; moving over it effortlessly, swaying a bit, but airing a sweet laugh. And then even Eun and Yoongi, initially struggling, make their way over, slower than Jimin but courageous nevertheless.
Okay… okay.
You push your phone extra deep into your bag, blinking before you take a deep breathe, repeating a mantra three or four times before you—
Scream.
The surprise of a new voice directly behind you is unwelcome, absolute horror in a moment like this. You flinch hard, reacting, barely hearing the “See?” over the wind before you slap the sudden hands off your shoulders. Your knees are shaking and you’re uncertain who the fingers belong to, but you’re still ready to fight.
The voice isn’t; the startled gasp reveals as much.
You turn, only to find your boyfriend’s eyes ripped open, lips parted. He puffs out a breath, equally frightened at your reaction before his expression turns apologetic. Baffled. Both at once as he exclaims, “Sorry! Sorry, baby.”
“Kook! Timing,” you blurt, scowling in distress, yet immediately holding onto his waist once you’ve grasped the reality enough.
“Angel…” he starts, looking into the hell below. “Are you scared of heights?”
No time to be sarcastic; you don’t have the breath to. So you admit, “A little.”
“I didn’t know,” he breathes, another apology in his words. He kisses your hair to soothe your worries; in some way, it works, even if not enough right now. “I’m sorry. Do you want to go or just stay here? We can stay here.”
His gaze is worried now, and he nods to reassure you, holding onto you. Behind him, Taehyung emerges, comprehending the situation and studying your countenances within the next three seconds until he asks, “All good?”
“Yeah,” Jungkook promises, “you can go ahead if you want.”
“Mmmh,” Taehyung hums; doesn’t sound too sure about leaving the two of you here. “You need a hand? I can go ahead, Jungkook follows.”
Uhh…
“Is that a good idea?” you mumble.
“It could be.”
Could be? And if it isn’t?
Then again. You’re here for a reason. You’d be disappointed with yourself if you just stood here, ruining the chance not only for yourself, but Jungkook, too. You look at him, and he shrugs his shoulders, signalling that it’s up to you.
So you decide, “No, I’ll go. I came here for this, and I don’t know when the next opportunity will arise. Fears exist to be conquered!”
“Hear, hear!” Taehyung cheers, just as Jungkook praises, “See? That’s my girl!”
It helps you, their way to motivate. Cautiously, you place a hand in each of their palms, moving one step after another. They’re determined to take care of you, constantly checking if you’re okay. And it works at first. But.
The bridge seems endless, and the fright yearns to return to you bit by bit. Halfway through, your surroundings look scary enough to put you off balance; you hate that you’re not holding onto anything solid, basically standing freely.
If one falls, all of you do — which, in truth, is sheer impossible. The railing is high enough. But your brain isn’t quite computing properly right now. You let go of Taehyung’s hand, grabbing the railing, but still clutching Jungkook’s grip.
“Go ahead,” your shaky voice commands; and Taehyung nods this time, no other choice left. “It’s okay.”
“I’m right here if you need me,” he vows before walking on.
Jungkook puts an arm around your waist, a human safety rope. His voice is so insanely steady as he spurs you on, “Imagine it’s the amusement park, yeah? Wanna guess the remaining steps? I think it’s… uh… thirty more till the end.”
You exhale, then inhale. Look in front of you instead of down, blinking rapidly before you let out a trembling laugh and counter, “Are you kidding… Looks like a hundred.”
He chuckles with you as you suck in another breath, straightening your back, fixing your gaze on a big rock on the other side. Thinking about how such a vast number of people take these steps every day offers you some courage. Leaves you brave.
So this must be safe, right? Logically seen. You gulp, and then, with your full chest, estimate, “Forty-five! I say forty-five steps.”
And then, you count together. You’re amused when Jungkook curses as you reach twenty without the end anyhow approaching. And just when you take your thirtieth step, he shakes his head in defeat, telling you, “Should know better than to compete with a munchkin.”
You guffaw awkwardly, howling over the wind, “This is actually fun,” not noticing that he’s barely holding you anymore when you jump over to the mainland again.
“What a journey, huh?” Jungkook praises, patting your back. “I’m proud of you. It’ll only get easier from here.”
And it does. As you move on, you soon reach another platform, spiral stairs leading up to the top. It looks a little like the remainder of an old stone tower, half broken, not too high. The stairs were clearly broken; lighter, fresher patches indicate that they were evened out.
Okay, you can do this much, at least.
In fact, you’re the first to climb up, Jungkook treading on your heels, fingers still entwined with yours. And up there, your mouth drops — the view stuns you, frozen in place. The wind blows more fiercely here, but the moment is worth the strong, cold pull of the gust.
Jimin, having reached much before you, must have seen you, because you hear him say, “I know, right?”
Everyone is scattered up here, leaning against the stone wall protecting you from falling. Other tourists are eternalising the moments in pictures, through talking and kissing. Tae and Eun are pointing into the distance, Jimin and Yoongi going around, laughing.
Holy shit. The euphoria filling each one of you is inevitable. Poignant somehow.
You’re above the foggy clouds.
In the far-flung distance, you see the turquoise ocean, merely a day away from wading through its waves; levitating on the sparkling water; thinking back to now and how numerous the miles between are.
And the forests — they’re thick, vast. You wonder what animals inhabit them. Bears? Wolves? Birds you’ve never seen before? Deers and does that have the same eyes as him?
Even the mountain range looks like the sea from here. Is this odd to say? Like high waves, green and dark blue and white and cloudy. So many valleys and so many peaks. Some of them hidden behind the clouds like before.
The birds are flying so close to your heads. And the sun isn’t at its highest point anymore either. You see the horizon coloured in a yellow-ish, orange-ish hue, indicating the nearing sunset.
This was your goal anyway. You wanted to come here late because of these very colours, occupying yourselves with other sights in the morning and the early afternoon. Because you wanted to see what nature bestows upon you.
The mountain will soon be closed for tourists, and in less than an hour, you’ll be heading back down. But you don’t feel any hurry. Nothing matters.
“This…” you finally whisper as you catch yourself, “makes me wanna cry.”
You put your hands on the chest-high stone wall. Jungkook’s arms make themselves home around your body, pulling you in, pushing him close, telling you, “Then cry. Isn’t that what catharsis is about?”
“It’s just so pretty.”
“It is.”
“Like… is this really our world, Jungkook?” You shake your head against him, ruining your hair as his chin moves against your scalp. “The same we saw a few days ago. Those cars and the pressure and the rushing people. All the stress we endure. Or even, our cosy apartment.”
You fill your lungs with the crisp air, more thankful for it than ever. “There’s so much more.”
“There is, right? A lot more,” he confirms.
“Look at this,” you say, chin gesturing towards no particular spot ahead, “wherever there aren’t people to fuck things up, there’s peace like this.” You sniffle; whether due to the temperature or sentiments, you can’t say. “What if we became nomads?”
His laugh is as sudden as your statement, differing so vastly from the rest of the poetry you spat.
He concludes, “I think you’ll really like it back home.” You’re confused until you understand he means his hometown; to that, you nod enthusiastically. “There are so many wonders out there like this one. I want to show you the prettiest places and the prettiest things.”
“…Do you already have something in mind?”
“Of course I do,” he responds matter-of-factly, tapping his finger against your stomach. “I just won’t tell you yet.”
“Ha. I wouldn’t want you to.”
You swallow when he moves in, kissing your cheek, his breath pleasantly warm against your ear. You wait for a second, indulge in the feeling, permitting yourself to believe you’ve transcended this realm and entered another.
But as you hear everyone else’s voices again, laughing and joking and teasing, you remember you’re still very much here, on the same Earth you know. With your everyday thoughts and lives. Which reminds you…
You turn to the side to look at him, his face in immediate proximity to yours. You ask, “What did Namjoon want?”
“Oh, just needed to discuss a couple things. Exhibition.”
“Sounded super urgent, though.”
“I mean, it kinda was,” he answers, catching the strands of hair that the breeze blows into your face, tucking them back, “he needed a status update. We also spoke about the style the gallery collector likes and—”
“Wait. You’re still sticking to your own style, though, right?”
His heart thumps, violently enough to nearly drop out of his chest. When trailblazing artists, already enjoying a remarkable reputation, preach about the relevance of support, this is what they must mean.
Behind someone who does something significant for the world in any way, there’s somebody soothingly rubbing their backs in bad times. Embracing them in success. Pushing them forward, lending them bravery.
You.
You’re who they must be talking about. Unshakably by his side.
“Of course, angel,” he says, “I think having your signature style is always the most important aspect.”
“Good. You’re the coolest, Kook. Just so you know.” His smile is telling, rendering the humble click of his tongue that follows ineffective. He holds you tight, lips close to your temple as you say, “I still don’t know what you’re painting.”
“I will never show you my paintings until an exhibit rolls around. Mostly because you’re my muse. My girl.”
He must think that this doesn’t wreck you inside out. Puts you back together, pieces of puzzles reunited that you didn’t know were lost. You feel something new all the time; is this possible? Surely, there can’t be this many emotions anyway, right?
If you didn’t feel it with your own heart, you wouldn’t believe it…
“But…” you begin, “you’ll let me see those that I don’t inspire, right?”
“Of course. Always.”
Breathing comes easy to you up here. So you do it again. And again. Taking in the oxygen, so entirely different from the one in the city; and soon, you mutter, more to yourself than to anyone else, “This really is pretty.”
He doesn’t answer. There’s no answer to this. Whatever his mind is conjuring and his heart trying to convey doesn’t just have to do with the nature stretching in front of you. Of course it’s gorgeous. Of course, your world’s unique.
Of course, it’s home, and home feels warm, pleasant, familiar.
There’s no doubt that the sight and the moment evoke something rare in him. But he’s seen these things before; when he was younger, he was used to this. What he’s never been used to is people like you.
Those who match nature's fierce, distinctive personality. Those who grow carefully and selflessly; like the trees offering shelter to birds. Or the bees serving as pollinators to provide nourishment for so many creatures out there.
Jungkook doesn’t answer right away because the right response doesn’t come to him immediately. But when he does, he collects his breath, and then voices—
“I love you, angel.”
Your heart skips one or two or three beats. You look at him again.
“People climb mountains, watch the world from above, need to see forests to figure out how good life can be. And that it can be worth living,” he says, his voice velvety soft. “But I feel that way with you every day, you know? I do… I do love you so much.”
You want to say something. You want to pour your heart out. Keep staring at his gentle eyes, serving all confessions at once. But interruptions are expected; so you’re briefly displeased but not surprised when you’re pulled out of your daydream.
Taehyung is gathering the crew behind you, asking for a group picture. You’re soon caught in a short, harmless commotion until everyone has collected at a spot, and you stand in position, yet not before gracing Jungkook one more look.
Mouthing something.
And he sees. In this split moment, he sees and smiles.
If he could be honest… whatever, those mountains. Whatever, them and the adrenaline that comes with them. All the natural phenomena. You’re enough, too — a force of nature, too.
He doesn’t need any mountain peaks when you bring a new high every day.
The lift is crowded as you make your way down again. They stuffed it to the brim, much until a stranger urged staff to stop pushing people in. You’re moved to one end of the cabin while you watch Eun and Jungkook forced into the opposite corner.
Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung will step into the next, and you’ll wait at the exit.
Since it takes barely five minutes to reach the bottom, you don’t fight for a spot next to Jungkook and Eun. Instead, you look down into the depths, waiting until the vehicle finally finishes its dive.
The chatter in the booth is peaceful, but plenty enough for you to blend out any words the other two utter to each other. In that sense, you don’t hear it when Eun says, “You’re both glued to each other, huh?”
Jungkook’s wide, wondering eyes ogle into hers, surprised as he asks, “Is that… bad? Too much?”
“Well, definitely much,” Eun laughs, “but very sweet, too. By all means, don’t change.”
“Ah. Ahhh, that answers one of my questions at least.”
Eun looks at him in curiosity, though entertained and maybe even a little baffled that she’s ever been the object of his attention in any way. So she voices, “Oh? Which one’s that?”
“Just confirms that I have your blessings.”
Eun catches his admission as a popular line from a million movies before, immediately puffing out a laugh. She didn’t anticipate this, out of all things; blinking, somewhat flattered even.
“My blessings?” she repeats. Her smile, combined with the appearing crease between her eyebrows, dips her expression in something that reveals, “Are you joking?”
Which is presumably why Jungkook’s thought shrinks the very next moment, pupils shaking just a little as he mutters, “Well… yeah?”
“Okay. And what if I didn’t give them to you?”
She raises her chin as if in arrogance, but the immediate giggle reveals the playful joke. She shakes her head again, patting his bicep, smitten when his speechless self voices, “Uhm…”
“I’m just messing with you,” she clarifies, watching one corner of his lips rise. “But also, why is it needed, you know? Would you leave her if I didn’t bless you two? Or stop loving her?”
Jungkook’s surprised about the L-drop; of all people, Eun must have known from the very beginning that he loved you. There’s no bewilderment in her voice; she emits the word casually.
He blinks, albeit discarding all preceding hesitation immediately as he admits, “No.”
“Exactly,” Eun agrees, wiggling a finger with a wise, subtle nod on the side, “you don’t need my blessings. If you’re sure about her, you don’t need anyone’s. I’ll trust the process.”
That’s it.
No ominous warnings, no playful best-friend-threats. She trusts in his certainty as much as he does; and where would the two of you be, what would all of this be if he didn’t? No. Not a trace of doubt.
Not if every smile matching yours expresses a silent I adore you. Or if every exhale against your shoulder reveals a promising I want you.
Not if everything he’s still about to do breathes a whisper of a soft I’ve been thinking of you all this time.
“But,” Eun continues; Jungkook’s ears perk up, “if you need to know. I do adore you two together. I know I tease you and stuff, but I’ve never seen a cuter couple.”
“Ah. Even cuter than you and Tae?”
“Much. We’re not the sappy kind. Or well, he is, but… you’re straight up sugar. Makes me sick.”
Jungkook laughs, spying over his shoulder, seeing a glimpse of you as you look out of the window in wonder. “Well, she makes up most of that sweetness.”
“Maybe. God,” Eun exclaims as if agitated, and when he looks at her again, her teeth are gritted, eyes squinting hard before she opens them again. Adding, “Sometimes I wanna grab her face and squish her.”
“The most precious, right?”
“Isn’t she?”
Somebody to kill for. Somebody with a face that doesn’t fit tears. The world did you wrong, but you exist to be happy. You’re deserving of it; you could be the most enthusiastic soul if the universe allowed you.
No, fuck it. Fuck the universe.
He’s here, right? He can do it, too. Guard you from harm; keep your smile plastered there.
And as if reading his mind, Eun continues, “I’ve always hated seeing her sad. She deserves the world, and shit always hit the fan when she was so close to finding the joy I always wanted her to have. Does this sound dumb?”
No, it doesn’t. In fact, Eun’s very truth pricks his heart like a fine needle. Because in a sense, he was also once a reason for stripping you off that happiness; but he’s made up for it. He so deeply hopes he made up for it.
“It sounds just right,” he says.
“I don’t know if you already know, but you won’t meet anyone purer. Not saying this as her best friend… it’s true.” She shrugs a shoulder, as if to dismiss the corny statements; she truly isn’t a mawkish one. “So it’s a big deal to say I want you close to her.”
Her eyes shift away from him and straight to you; there’s a gap between all the people, allowing a glance at you. And when Jungkook follows Eun’s gaze, you seem to feel it somehow, his eyes like Cupid’s arrows in your back until you meet their attention.
Your lips promptly form the most saccharine smile, an unsure hand lifting; somebody next to you immerses themselves in the brief interaction, looking to and fro between Jungkook and you.
And Jungkook waves back, watching your chest rise and fall in satisfaction rooted in nothing but the untroubled moment. Right there, you hold not one but two hearts hidden. His bleeding organ thumps, but it’s as if he hears it from where you stand.
Slowly, stare dropping to his feet, he nods, love clumping up his throat, a barrier for the words wanting to escape. Instead, he basks in the things Eun said, repeating them over and over in his head until he merely susurrates—
“Thank you, Eun.”
“Here you are.”
Jungkook is soft-spoken, his voice mellow; a textbook definition of a lullaby. Which is possibly why you’re so surprised when it breaks the fall air so loudly, echoing through the empty space.
You flinch before you reflexively turn, watching his body tower on the other side. The lights of the swimming pool illuminate his face, and even from here, you recognise the bright, gorgeous, twinkling eyes immediately. They’re not hidden behind his bangs this time; his damp hair is pushed back.
Maybe you could focus on that unusual sight of his forehead if there wasn’t the entire rest of him. Hands in the pockets of the open bathrobe he’s sporting, mere boxers hiding his most important parts, but the rest of him naked. Tits out, abs sharp.
You flash him a smile from where you’re floating, pushing yourself off the edge and swimming towards him. You see his reflection in the water, blurry, moving, somewhat funny. As you near him, he drops to his knees, crouching for a second before dipping his legs into the pool. Sitting down, remaining there, waiting for you.
Getting ahold of his calf, you pull yourself in for the last few feet. He reaches out without hesitation as your shoulders collide with his legs underwater; gentle fingers tuck your soaked hair behind your ears.
“I was looking for you,” he says.
“Oh, I just got here a couple minutes ago. Making the best out of the remaining time.”
“Yeah. I just showered for a few minutes, too.” He pauses. Looks around the vacant pool save from the two of you, humming before he asks, “Hey, do you need a moment to yourself?”
Your eyes widen as you look up, his expression suddenly cautious, as if he’s intruding your personal space. Curiously, you merely voice, “What?”
“Just. I know there’s been a lot of interaction these days, so I get it if you need a break.” His finger moves to his temple, drawing circles in the air. “My battery almost ran out, too.”
Oh. Oh…
If there was a way to hide your flattered smile, you still wouldn’t. God, if he knew how rare of a person he is. How uniquely humane. If he knew that not everybody’s ready to offer space despite knowing that somebody requires it at times.
You know enough people who put the blame on themselves; deem themselves victims. If you can’t be there for them, it’s something they have done wrong. Not the fact that you need peace, a moment to yourself.
Jungkook knows. Jungkook understands.
Has seen you run out of energy and crave a quiet evening. But you immediately shake your head, touched, “Oh, no. I actually knew you’d find me here. Hoped for it.”
“Is that right?” he says, relieved, grazing your cheek as you put your chin onto his leg. Muscly, thick thighs, yet like a pillow.
You nod. Look up to him properly, a little distracted, very mesmerised. It’s outrageously insane, how he’s perched there like he’s allowed to. As if it doesn’t clearly state in your book that it’s illegal to look this way, that it should be retaliated somehow.
“It’s been a while since we were alone,” you tell him, “feels like we didn’t have many moments to ourselves.”
“Then, this is convenient, isn’t it? An empty pool in the evening. Very cliché.”
You laugh a little, tilting your head and ignoring the goosebumps that arise when he touches the sweet spot behind your ear. Hands exploring. You respond, “Others are probably too tired to be here. Or too cold. We’re the only crazy ones here.”
“It’s warm enough, though,” he argues, sniffling, as if to contradict his point — there’s something funny about it. “I bet it’s wet and grey back home.” A click of his tongue, watching you nod in agreement; after a beat of silence, he wonders, “Are you looking forward to tomorrow?”
Exhilaration inundates your chest without a warning, as is common with this very conversation topic. You can barely fathom that you talked about this for weeks straight, and now you have only a few hours left until the awaited day finally breaks in.
Jungkook must be seeing the change in your pupils, because he smiles when you do, nodding with an open mouth as you cheer jubilantly, “A lot! It’ll be a long day, we’ll be exhausted, but… got a feeling it’ll be worth it all.”
“Yeah, but like. I think we can rest a lot after that, though,” he explains, flashing a wink to your astonishment. “My childhood bedroom is cosy.”
“I’d hope so. We won’t be leaving it.”
He scoffs, rolling his eyes in jest before he agrees, “Of course not. Duh. Except for the wedding.”
“Except for the wedding… sure,” you repeat, as if reluctantly.
As you put both your arms on top of his thighs, Jungkook uses the moment to let his stare dawdle; right there where yours lingered two minutes ago. His head moves slowly, taking in the wide, endless view behind you.
The sky above and the stars attached to it. The tiny mountains far away and the forests next to them. The world looks as wide as it truly is, stunningly bedazzling; infinite from where he sits here with your touch so close.
There’s a sense of disbelief in the fact that, despite the crazy vastness of the world, it’s you who found your way to him, inches away. If luck exists, this must be it, right?
But he doesn’t say any of it — don’t you already know? What if he lovebombs too much, frightens you away. So instead, his fingers shift to your face, much cooler to the touch than before, and he queries, “Aren’t you cold?”
You shake your head, however, stating, “Not yet. Or… maybe a little. You can help me warm up?”
Jungkook cocks an eyebrow in disbelief; something about the way he looks down at you with such power lets something in you loose that floods your entire body. You wouldn’t mind if he…
“Isn’t this another cliché?” he asks.
“How so?”
“You’ll make me jump in, huh? Or no, wait. You’re a brat,” he establishes as if remembering just now, rethinking his choice of words. “No… you’ll pull me in.”
“What? I won’t.”
“How do I know that, though?”
“I mean, technically, you don’t, and yes, I realise that doesn’t help,” you blabber, tone shifting when he shakes his head with a laugh, “but, you did just shower. I wouldn’t want you to waste more time showering afterwards.”
He looks sceptical to no end; squinting his eyes, biting his lower lip, furrowing his eyebrows — the whole package. Leaning in, he lets you know, “I don’t trust you this once, but…”
And that’s where his sentence ends. The words unspoken are replaced by another movement closing the gap between the two of you. He grabs your chin, moving your head up, bending his back enough to draw closer to your lips.
The phantom touch and his warm breath cause a strange, crackling sound somewhere in your brain — a bulb going out, your mind breaking. Shutting down. But your body lights up as he cradles your face, every single inch of your skin craving his all.
The knowledge about his affection and that he yearns for you like no other man on Earth blurs your reality, as if you don’t belong into a utopian world like this. As if you’re from another corner of the multiverse, incredibly lucky by accident.
Weird, weird how all of these thoughts trigger disbelief and thorough rapture in you, but how empty-headed you are at the same. Almost enough to fully lose yourself until—
The man leans back, intentionally teasing you, just a little but enough for you to fall out of your immersion. You chase his lips for a second, long enough to make him laugh. But as you find your composure, looking at the shit-eating grin, you land a decision.
“Unfair,” you say, pouting, predicting for him to coo, which occurs just a moment later.
You remain at your spot, not a lot of options either way as he still holds your face. Then wait. See him get a hold of himself before he mutters, “My pretty angel. Pouty little sweetheart of mine, hm?” twice, then thrice and then closes in again.
Thumbs skim the apples of your cheek, nose rubbing against yours, his own scrunched. He looks so happy with himself, but so charmed by you, too, squishing your face as if handling cuteness-aggression.
Calls you plenty of pet names as he kisses your nose, your cheek, your earlobe and then moves in for an actual kiss.
Only this time, no matter how much you yearn for his lips, rosy and wet and sweet and tender — you can’t let him beat you. So you prepare for the retaliation you considered before, and just as new goosebumps arise on your arms, wanting the kiss, you suppress the desire and—
“Fu—”
The curse falls out of him suddenly, just a second after he closes his eyes and you use the moment of weakness to put your hands at the back of his neck. Pulling him in without a warning, watching him lose balance and splash into the pool.
He struggles a little underwater before he breaks the surface; hands reach for you with an intent to revenge, but you dodge him. He gasps, shaking his head, going through the trouble of wiping the water off his eyes before opening them.
You swim away a little, carefully, just to be sure; watching him cough a bit before he laughs. He can’t help but scoff, more curses falling out of him, but never towards you. Only a reprimanding, “Angel, you’re— you brat." Another cough. "You’re too much.”
And as his eyes finally land on you, he immediately charges for you, jaw clenched, teeth gritted, but pure amusement gracing his features. You try to get away, but he’s faster. Moves in the water as he strips himself off the bathrobe.
The image makes you choke.
How ethereal yet sinful of a moment. Tempting as he pulls it off his strong shoulders, revealing the bulging bicep, throwing the bathrobe to the side with an absolute indescribable, fiery aura.
Teeth pull at his lower lip before they instantly release it. Then the tongue, running over glistening lips, eyes hooded, the bathrobe sitting where he did without him even regarding it. Like a villain who sets a house on fire and then walks away without looking, badass to the core.
Fuck, he’s broad. And fuck, he’s coming right for you.
You try to flee, hysterically laughing, probably too loud; but he’s a fast swimmer, arms soon around your waist, wrapping around you, tugging you in. He whispers into your ear, “Talking about clichés, baby, huh?”
As he holds you there, you swallow some water, spitting it out right away before you answer, “Well… there’s a reason why they’re clichés.”
“Not wanting to waste my time showering, my ass.”
“You’re saying it sounds like a bad idea?” you whisper, breathless as he kisses your shoulder, his soft voice muttering a little, “What?” before you clarify, “Showering with me?”
“Nah. Stop planting this thought in my head,” he says, lips continuing at your neck, kissing it gently first before he morphs the touch into a wet, open-mouthed kiss.
You try to stay afloat, but god, you’ll drown if he keeps that up. But then he adds, much to your already existing misery, “Stop or I swear, we won’t even make it to the damn shower. Understood?”
“Beast—”
“You say as if you don’t know me already. Don’t you know?” he asks, pausing, kiss moving to your jaw. “That I get like this with you?”
“I… I do, so well. Not even this is surprising to me.”
You press yourself into him harder, feeling the bulge hardening below, right against your thigh. Your hand drops from his shoulder to his slim waist, further down until it gives his hard-on the slightest of touches. He groans; gives you a head tilt as a warning.
Then kisses your cheek. The corner of your lips; tickles you, pinches your waist. You engulf him a bit more, trying not to pull the two of you underwater, swimming and floating. It’s hard, though, and harder even when he tickles you again.
He must understand, because as you push him away, swimming away a couple feet, he doesn’t tow you back in. Lets you go as your vision blurs, the movements of your arms hectic enough to push more water into your eyes.
You dip below the surface for a second, regaining control, and when you’re up again, you hear his voice farther away, urging, “Come on.”
And once you see him again clearly, he’s already wading to the edge where you stood when he scared you. Right where the view to the town is the best, the pool and roof separated from the depths by a high glass wall.
You follow slowly, stroking for a moment — but it doesn’t take you long to pause again halfway through. Gliding, you watch his arms coming up and settling on the edge, muscular and mountainous like the range far away. Hair wet, water drops drip onto his already doused back.
And in front of him, a lake you couldn’t see from the other side of the pool.
Then, the mountains, like the one you went on. A village and fields and up above, a painting of stars. Millions and millions of them. Sparkling, alive, dead, moving, closer, farther… burning and bright. Reflecting in the lake, along with the moon.
His head moves to the side, probably looking for you; but you don’t move yet, just admiring the side profile for a little longer. Gorgeous, lips formed as if drawn, a clean-cut, razor sharp jaw. Golden back, broad.
As he peeks over his shoulder again, doe eyes searching for you, you finally swim towards him the moment he pleads, “Come, baby.”
And you do. Put your hands on his shoulders again, kissing his back, his neck, his shoulder blade before you settle right next to him. Imitating his position.
He says, “One could almost forget that we’re leaving in two hours. Ahh, I want to stay here.”
Right. Your group decided to check out in the late evening tonight — an exception at this hostel — to make the most of the day on the mountain and at dinner. But in a while, you’ll set out for your new destination. The beach calls for you.
You’ll check in late at night over there, and then remain at the new hotel — no hostel this time — until the day after tomorrow.
“Yeah. Just a bit more,” you say, sighing before you let him know, “By the way… I do feel a lot warmer now.”
“Good,” he says, although you don’t miss the beguiled smile he flashes as he looks away, “anything for you to not get sick.” He nudges your elbow with his. “Not before the big day.”
No, not the big day. If anything, you’re even more overjoyed over it than tomorrow. And nervous — oh, so nervous. You don’t think you’ll feel any different until the day rolls around.
What will happen at the wedding? What’s the atmosphere like in a smaller gathering? What does the magic of such a place elicit? It must be so different from any event in the city.
Could it make you fall in love with him with further desperate urgency? Seeing him standing there, admiring you in your dress, thoughts whirling as the couple of the night promises each other eternity. Does the romantic serenity of a wedding make hearts of those in love burst more?
No. You don’t think it’ll make you fall for him harder — because you don’t need a wedding for that.
A moment like this suffices.
Yet. As you stare ahead, fixing your eyes on the clouds, you remember something. Curious as you think back to the first day and ask, “Hey. What did Jimin mean when he said I should be excited for the wedding? What does he know?”
Jungkook sighs, shaking his head at your friend’s slip-up. He smirks, and then says, “Well, you’ll see at the wedding, right?”
“…Jungkook,” you challenge, and he looks at you so innocently, hiding whatever secret he shares with Jimin. But you don’t fall for it, ideas already brewing in your mind; one blurted as you ask, “Did you get me something?”
But he’s unfazed — a good actor. “Wait up,” he says, “if you’ve got any theories, keep them to yourself, though! You’re too smart for me.”
“C’mon, as if.” You wait. Wait a bit more, pupils shaking, just slightly distracted when he frees your cheek off your hair again, giving you a chaste peck. “Wait. Oh.”
He chuckles, a little lost in you as he copies, “Oh?”
“Jeon Jungkook… are you proposing?”
And that’s when he breaks into a laugh. A loud one, Jungkook-esque, sweet and genuine, with his eyes nearly closed, mouth open wide. So, so enchanting as he says, “I did not expect that. But sure, that’s what it is.”
“Well, that cancels it out.”
“Oh, baby…” He pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, moving your head to look at him, kisses you again, just for a fleeting second. “You’re so cute. So, so cute. I love your cute ass so much.”
Butterflies, butterflies, butterflies.
They never cease. You don’t think you’ll ever get over this word. You don’t think there’s a way to get used to Jeon Jungkook confessing his love — his love — for you.
Ugh, he drives you mad. Into absolute insanity.
Sucks you out of breath, your heart palpitations reasoned in him. Your body craves him; not cold anymore at all. Tingling and wanting.
Starved for him, you look into his dark eyes, intrigued by the wet bangs, and with all the patience you can muster, you finally whisper, “Let’s go and hurry to that damn hotel. Hm?”
DAY 3
You love packing your bags, but you hate reorganising them. Like, stuffing back dirty clothes because there’s nowhere else for them to go, changing your initial order.
You won’t empty your suitcase for that one remaining day anymore; you’ll only be here for another night anyway.
But you want to separate the worn stuff from the clean one. Thankfully, your suitcase is spacious enough; after all, there’s no chance in hell you’re having your soon-to-be-messy swimsuit reside right next to your resplendent dress.
Yawning as you rummage through your things, you shoot a fleeting glance at the ticking clock at the wall. It’s only 8 o’clock in the morning. Breakfast has already started, but you and the others longed to sleep in, agreeing on a 9 AM meal.
But for some reason, the two of you already awoke about half an hour ago; nevermind that today’s schedule doesn’t begin before noon.
For some time, you merely lay on your sides of the bed, enjoying each other’s company, brief kisses here, modest touches there — until you decided to make yourselves useful. Still tired, yet unable to fall back into sleep, being productive was all you could do.
Albeit, you’re distracted. Your mind keeps drifting, your heart still pounding thinking about the shower last night, taken right as you checked in and found your room. Not as tired from the busy day and the two-hours-drive to the hotel anymore when he touched you.
You still feel the ghost touch of his palm around your neck; glistening lips exploring your cheek and your jaw.
And… there are bruises on your leg somewhere, reminiscent of when he dragged you into bed, keeping your thighs apart with a grip passionately aggressive. Loving yet brutal. Uttering admissions that still coat your flesh with goosebumps.
Shit, are you grateful for the proper room. All to yourselves at last.
You cover your naked thigh. The oversized shirt barely hides his effect on you, but he seems rather distracted anyway. Of course he is — whenever he spies the lavender dress, like now, he becomes one hell of a goner.
He fishes it out by ruining some of your tidiness, the folded top and two shorts falling out as he pulls the dress from underneath them. You complain, “Hey!”
But he’s still examining the gown, shaking his head once again as he did the last few days whenever he caught a glimpse of it. You still remember his reaction when you first brought it home, presenting it to him but not yet putting it on.
You assured him you looked hot in it beyond hell, but that he’d have to wait to actually see you wrapped in it.
His eyes were still wide, alright. Mouth drooling. And you understand — when you first laid eyes on it, you knew it was made to be yours: soft, pastel pink hue. Dreamy and ethereal. Shit, you can’t wait to wear it.
Apparently, he can’t either.
Because he declares, “You’re gonna be so fucking pretty in this.”
“You told me.”
“And I’ll keep doing so. My god, I’ll need to keep an eye on you all night!”
You laugh. “Ah? Why?”
He shrugs a shoulder, explaining matter-of-factly, “Some of my friends there are still single. Gotta shield you from their shit. I mean, they loyally respect me, but then again… it’s you.”
“Oh, oh,” you voice, tutting, “and the girls? Are some of them single, too?”
“Well, I guess so, but—”
“Nothing but. I’ve seen you in a suit before, mister. What if some of them are girls from your high school? What if they had a crush on you? Fuck it, they all probably did,” you ramble, and he listens, lips twitching; he forces the laugh back. “No, you’re sticking by my side that night, Jeon.”
You raise a finger, wiggling it like a warning, blabbing the most ridiculous, “No running away with other chicks.”
“As if, you idiot,” he jests, “even if I got shitfaced as heck and you carried me home and I didn’t realise it was you? And you pretended to be somebody else — I’d still tell you that I need to go fetch my girlfriend.”
You cover your mouth as laughter fills the air; you’re sure your eyes are sparkling at the fantasy, and your voice changes, euphoric to an unknown extent as you say, “Oh my god. I so want to witness that one day. I’m gonna try to get there.”
“I believe you. What else will you be wearing? This? Wait,” he asks, picking out a silk and lace lingerie from the side; baby pink. But you snatch it out of his hands as he adds, “Is this part of your attire?”
“Well, now you ruined a perfect surprise.”
“What! I don’t think I did, though? Wait for my reaction. It won’t be any less than you expect.”
You smack your lips in faux disappointment, but in truth, you get it very well. Seeing him always feels new to you, too.
You brush your hand across the fluffy carpet as he eyes the dress once more, waiting until he’s folded it neatly again, putting it into your suitcase. Then, he leans against the bed, observing as you get back to work.
Your lips open, pouting a bit. You give the sweetest, most genuine reactions; how you form an Oh with your mouth when you like something you brought. Or how disgusted you look when you’re reminded of your two-days-old clothes again.
You mutter, “Gonna have to ask your mom if she’s okay with me using your washing machine.”
“She will be, for sure.”
“I’ll even hang them to dry myself.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm! Shit, Jungkook. I’m so excited!” you exclaim, fingers moving fast over your stuff, and he keeps watching. “I wanna tattle about you with your mom! And I can’t wait to meet Ria, either. She sounds so cool and—” You peer up at him, and when you catch him smiling, you wonder, “What?”
“Nothing, just…”
He shrugs another shoulder, already moving to close your suitcase. You watch with an innocent curiosity in your eyes, hands on your knees as he pushes it away. He reaches for your wrists to pull you closer until you’re between his legs, your own crossed, obliging wordlessly.
Then, he speaks again, “Can you kiss me? Really wanna kiss you.”
He always wants to kiss you. And staring at these rosy, pretty lips of his, arched so prettily, you don’t think you fare any better.
So you’re walking on air when his hands settle on your waist to tickle you, forcing you to relocate them down to your hips. You ask, “Do you ever get enough?”
“Hmm… Do I look like I do?"
“I mean. Do you really just want to kiss me, baby?” you inquire, but he’s already onto pecking your lips, pulling at them. You place your arms around his neck. “Your eyes look just like they did yesterday.”
“Ah, really?” A featherlight kiss on your neck. “So I won’t have my wish granted?”
“You… You’re stupid,” is all you say before you prove him wrong — diving in, locking your lips, moving them slowly against his, in unison.
You tilt your head immediately. Kiss him deeper, seeking his hair. His hands wander to your back, and you arch it when he hauls you closer. Your tongues come into motion at the very same time, a touch intense enough for him to breathe a sigh that you feel, that you hear.
And before you know it, you’re moving further; straddling him. He pushes your shirt up, only to the small of your back; the other hand moves down to your ass, nothing on you but your underwear. And considering it’s a string, not even that matters.
He has free reign to your rear, squeezing and slapping lightly. At which you lean back, breathless, giggling a little as you watch him move back in — trying to catch another kiss, eyes drooping and lips parted.
But when he realises you’re pausing, not granting him what he needs, he looks up into your eyes. You say, “Thought so. That’s,” you touch his hand over your ass, “what your eyes said. Even after you wrecked me just last night, huh?”
“Sorry,” he mutters with a grin — but his expression soon changes. Back once more against the bed, he promises, “I… if you don’t want to, we don’t have to though. I’m okay with just organising our stuff or chilling.”
Oh, the way he touches your heart…
You blink, affection in your pupils reflecting in his. You coo, and then call, “Oh, baby…”
“No, seriously. Whatever you’re comfortable with, my love.”
“I’m… I’m comfortable with you, you know? If I ever feel like not doing something or disagreeing with you… I’ll be honest with you.”
He silences for a moment. Keeps gaping at you. Then, “Do you feel like you can?”
But no matter how deep his insecurities are, your answer is immediate, “Always.” Swift pause. “Kook, I— I know you still fear I could distance myself from you. I see it, but… I won’t. As long as you’re willing to stay, I will, too.”
“I will. I promise. And I’ll never ever do anything to hurt you again. Not on purpose… okay?”
Hmm… you wish these moments were rare. It does happen ever so often that he seeks reassurance and vows; your companionship, regardless of what lies in your pasts. To know you’re here despite all the despites.
But if you need to, you’ll keep dispeling his fears all your life.
So you say, “I know. I know.” Brushing through his hair. “And I want this.”
“It won’t hurt? We just did last night—”
“If it does, we can stop. I always want you. Besides…” You circle over his lap, your hips a tease. You feel the bulge stir. “I can’t blueball you.”
Jungkook smirks in the way only he’s able to, clutching your butt again, and you catch your lower lip with your teeth. He states, “Brat, acting like it’d be the first time.”
“You’re just… so hard already. Can’t do this to you. Or me. Not today.”
“Babe… you being so sweet makes it worse. And this isn’t even its final state, you know?”
“Of course I know.”
Oh, of course you do. Whenever you think it can’t get crazier, he negates your beliefs. Well equipped as he is, your man, the thought suddenly makes you want to unwrap him again, like a gift crafted just for you.
He’s in a black tank top; tattoos reach up to his shoulder, muscles flexing as he holds you. You touch them, sneaking further to his wrist, and then take the plunge and lead his forefinger into your mouth. Then, you suck.
Upon which his eyes immediately shut. He draws a deep, shaky breath, barely exhaling much of it when you twirl your tongue around the tip of his finger. Absent-minded yet fully aware, he shakes his head, taking a moment to compute before he pulls his digit out again.
His cock twitches beneath you, much as a last warning.
And a second later, out of the blue, there’s a hand on the nape of your neck while the other shifts to your buttbone, pushing you to the ground with his body in tow. You fall flat on your back, his face right above you. Lips crash against yours again, strong hands pinning your arms down.
“You’re so brave,” he deduces, “like you forgot yesterday.”
“I could never. Maybe… maybe I’m just trying to repeat it.”
“Oh… smart, smart. If that’s your wish.”
Cocky, how he tilts his head and winks. How he pushes your thong aside without a warning, already damp, freeing your pussy before his touch collides with it. Fondling with it; making you release a pleased sigh. Gaze still set on you firmly, fingers running up and down. To the clit.
You’re already out of your good mind; but you attempt a fair approach; a mutual effort in which you try your best to push his shorts down. He’s not wearing anything underneath… you know because he threw them on last night after the chaos that ensued, wanting to rush to you. To sleep in peace.
And he’s well aware of it, because as it slides down to his knees, he dares a step further. Fists his cock and replaces his fingers when he drags the tip up and down your heat. You sigh again before it contorts into a moan, gripping him, pleading, “Kiss me again?”
“Not yet. I wanna see you wind.”
“Why…? You’re so mean—”
“Just now. Come on. Look at me.”
You do. You’re met with a hungry beast who’s yearning for you, simultaneously so soft — easing you into this, not dipping his fingers in just yet. Discovering how you feel; how soaked you get; how far he can already proceed.
He might be craving you, but he’s not stupid; he’s cautious. Gauging your reaction.
This man… this man…
“Want me to push it in?” Jungkook then questions, making your eyes rip open; you didn’t expect the inquiry this soon, but you’re not opposed to it at all.
You nod, eyebrows furrowed. Your voice is feeble when you agree, “Please.”
“Please, yeah?” he repeats, just the head prodding your entrance — but then, he chuckles. “Baby. Take care of yourself when I can’t. I can’t fucking think, you know? But even I know you’re not ready yet.”
“I…”
“Just a bit more, okay?” He slaps your pussy; you wince. “Wanna get up and undress?”
“No,” you instantly blurt, “want you like this. Right now. I don’t care about the shirt.”
“Right… so that’s how it is.”
He leaves the two of you just the way you are, except kicking off the bothersome shorts. Pushes your shirt up to your tits, too, stopping right underneath the mounds, still covering them. He leaves it there, dizzy about how your nipples perk against the white shirt, just above the Kakashi Hatake print.
Huh.
“Is this my shirt, by the way? You stole it, didn’t you?” he gathers.
You pretend, playing the innocent lamb, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I can’t believe you. Stealing my clothes… and my perfumes,” he recollects, his voice going up and down. He’s referring to the time you used his cologne just to keep his scent close; once. He was very amused by it. “What’s next? My heart?”
Only that you already exchanged both of yours. He knows, because he can’t really feel his own heart beat, but yours. After all, your chest houses his thumps, not his.
But he still clicks his tongue; kisses down your body, caressing your sides, and then shoves your panties aside. He spits on your pussy so indecently, in a manner so filthy that it affects your entire body.
The sharp tip of his tongue is the first to taste you. The first to intrude. Lightly and softly, he attempts a touch, anticipating a reaction that he barely needs to wait longer for than a nano-second. Because your body blooms immediately, your pussy constricting.
There’s never a single reason for him to react with surprise; if anybody in this world understands your body as well as you, it’s him. He knows you to the tiniest detail; so why the astonished, “Oh? Oh, oh…”
Then again, maybe that’s all that’s necessary to set the mood further; he doesn’t elaborate on it, nor does he ask any questions. Instead, he French kisses your cunt with the techniques he’s mastered to the core. With each time you spend with him like this, he gets better.
Because he knows when to draw back, when to return. When to kiss you again, when to pull at the nether lips. Or when to nibble just lightly, when to use his tongue. It’s obvious in the twitches of your legs, and how he needs to keep them in place each time — hence, the bruises.
Your head lifts when he angles your right leg on the side, enabling better access to where he wants to drown. And when he comes back, he seems starved; maybe he needs that promised breakfast soon to come. Or maybe not; maybe he’ll feast on you enough.
Because he’s thorough; does enough work on you to divulge, “Maybe I was wrong and you are ready after all.”
“…M-maybe.”
“Wish we’d brought the sex toys. Man, I want to…” He touches your clit, painting patterns, a steady and diligent artist’s hand; and you can’t help but imagine it’s the vibrator he often handles. “Wouldn’t that be good?”
“Don’t… do this to me.”
A smug chuckle. “Sorry, bae.”
Ever since he gave you the damn toys months ago, he’s teased you about them constantly. And ever since you started inhabiting the same walls as him, he’s prompted orgasm after orgasm. God, the last few weeks alone, he’d revel in your whines.
Overstimulating, keeping you awake on weekends, battering your cunt and your nub. Nerves on fire. Tears of pleasure and sobs of exhilaration.
“Jungkook…” you start. He hums, but your brain blanks; you think about whatever you were going to say until you remember and jabber, “We’d never get t-to breakfast then.”
“So? I’d still be having mine.”
Thought so.
“But…” you argue, no clue why at all. “They’d be waiting.”
“I think they’re just as bad as we are. C’mon.”
You laugh before you mewl; insane when he buries himself in your sex, tongue in a whirl, plump lips operating so agonisingly skilled. He heaves your legs onto his shoulders; everything feels wet and warm and dirty.
Nerves burning again; your entire neural system is alight like a torch, buzzing like electricity.
And you want to close your legs but you can’t.
The motion only covers his ears, much to his disdain as he says, “Stop… I can’t hear you like this,” before dragging his tongue down again. Pushing your body up, he grips your ass, pulling the cheeks apart before he licks over the string just for a moment. Then suggests, “What if we added something to our collection one day? Hmm?”
His thumb toys right over your clenching hole; you grasp for a breath, airheaded as you admit, “I… don’t know yet.”
“Fine. There’s time.”
There is, but you want it to pass faster. Want him over you, around you. And maybe he can read your thoughts after all, because a second later, he’s uprighting himself; once again slapping his dick against your drenched mess. Hiding it between your folds as he rubs it up and down.
Then moves it side to side rapidly, helping himself, pumping until he’s grown impossibly solid. On his knees, he shifts on the mattress until he’s kneeling right over your face, and you raise your head, mouth ready and open without a single command necessary.
He’s chuffed about your keenness; breathes out a laugh as he drags his cock between your lips and onto your tongue. You’re rigorous, his good girl, sucking right away.
Fuck, he savours the moment much like you are; watching the saliva drip down your cheek obscenely. It covers his dick, much of it enveloped by your mouth; the picture of you barely being able to take half of him in this position yet trying sends him into pure madness.
And when your tongue teases his slit and the head, he thinks he’s dying and being reborn.
“I’m dying and being reborn, babe. What the fuck,” he repeats, immediately regretting it when he realises he spoke it out loud; because you’re right beneath him, eyes foggy but the sudden giggle entirely contrary.
“Glad to hear.”
Jungkook uses the separation from your lips to back away already; any longer and he’ll have to help you rinse out your eyes. He leans down again, kissing you, hips aligning with yours as he prepares for the next step.
He’s gentle as he places your hands on his shoulders, and you already understand why. Already make yourself comfortable, getting into position as if for war, already realising that you need him to kiss you or your scream will shatter the building—
“Careful now,” he still warns, right before he reads your wish off your eyes and dives back in for more making out. You nod; you know. Your neighbours don’t need to—
Fuck.
Fuck, how big he feels when he digs in, not even fully inside yet.
Isn’t it just a bit more than the head so far? You bite your lip when you hear yourself whine, suppressing it, eyes watery. Your mouth transforms into a thin line, but Jungkook opens it with his finger; telling you, “I don’t care who hears.”
Okay. Okay. Then… you’ll stop holding back, right? You moan and call his name, hearing in his tender sounds and overjoyed, endlessly breathy and quiet laugh that he’s loving it. He asks, “Can I go farther in?”
“Thought you’d never ask…” Yet, it doesn’t happen. He refuses for some reason; which is why you work towards him instead, your hips upthrusting. Pushing at his ass, knowing how much he’s enjoying your helplessness. You say, “You are mean.”
“Mhm… especially to you, right?”
“Especially to me,” you laugh. “You say you love me and then edge me? Prove it, won’t you?”
“Ohhhh no.” He drags out the syllable, a sudden change in his tone, as if you’ve purposely teased him to a challenge. A you did not just say that kind of vibe. “You will not doubt that I love you. Fuck no.”
He buries his face in your clothed tits, kisses the spot between them; one hand envelops your left side before he lets go and gets serious. Kicks his shorts away and then— bottoms out. His balls clash against your ass, your eyes rolling back. His words ring in your ears.
And then, he’s already dragging himself out before plunging back in. Hard. Remains like this. Then out again; all the way in again, harder. Repeating it with a hand on your neck; but the moment, much to your irritation, doesn’t prolong at all.
Jungkook must have been quick to make a decision to torment you today when you first kissed him ten minutes ago. Because he fully draws back, leaving you empty, a hand on the back of your head as he mutters his thoughts to you, “Am craving this mouth… Get up.”
You, like his personal doll with a sudden lack of feminism in your body, get on your knees without hesitation. Your hands remain between your legs, as if waiting for him to put a leash on you; rubbing yourself against the soft carpet until he stops your antics and grips your cheeks.
He urges you to open up, pressing in, and when you do, he doesn’t wait to shove his cock in again. This time, he helps you out: goes back and forth, fucking your wet tongue, and then moving his length until the tip prods your inner cheek. He angles it like a fishing hook, bringing it out of your mouth and then back in again.
And you’re careful to suck diligently. You taste yourself, fighting for breaths. Look up at him, take him like your last meal on Earth; touch his balls as he relishes in your gaze. When your hand encases his dick, that’s when he stops moving, glancing up to the ceiling as if praying.
You slow down; wait as he catches his breath, and then ask, “What do you want me to do?”
You’re not always this forlorn. Sometimes you take matters into your own hands, no questions or permission necessary. You often knock him back onto the mattress, straddling him, riding him into the sunset.
But you want to submit today; that’s the mood you perceived. That’s what his eyes reveal and what your body itches for. Something he wants, too: to destroy you, to fuck you senseless.
And he notices the shift. “My god, would you look at that,” he drags, hardly believing that you’re looking at him like this. “Bed. Lean over it.”
You listen; of course you do. Your knees press into the carpet, upper body flat on the bed. Ass out, arms on the mattress.
He touches you gently; first your back, then your hair, and then your arms. Finds the right position, and then rams himself into you. You barely expect it — the intrusion is sudden, happens in one fell swoop.
His legs cage in yours, and he soon pushes yours together, dying for further friction and for you to feel it more intensely. Your eyes flutter shut, and your previously lifted head falls, your cheek against the sheets.
You move with them as he thrusts into you, and you hold onto the fabric to remain in place. Perhaps he sees your efforts, because he’s soon determined to help — or to rile you up further, you can’t say. He catches your arm, just one, pinning it to your back.
A heavy hand falls onto the soft flesh of your ass once. And then, he raises your upper body until it’s glued to his chest. An arm wraps around your tits, two fingers pinching your nipple as he drills into you from behind.
As you yelp and heave breaths, you hear him say, “You wanna know, huh?”
“I…”
You’re not sure what he’s talking about, but you allow him to air his rage. He leans in, kisses your neck, wants to know, “What’s that like? You okay, baby?”
“I’m okay… I’m so okay—”
“And so pretty like this. You’re always… so pretty. I’m so fucking lucky.”
“I want to see you.”
“How did I…”
“Kook—”
“I know. I know you want to,” he says, but he takes another minute to fuck you hard, fast, revved up, and you don’t complain. Not even when two of his fingers slap your cunt, multiple times, rapidly until he repeats, “I know. Would you turn around for me? Sit here?”
How couldn’t you if he asks so nicely, right?
Your legs are shaky and trembling as you take a seat on the edge of the bed, much as he commanded. It’s high enough for him to fuck you standing here; but he doesn’t go in right away as you thought. Instead, he kneels in front of you, forehead to forehead, sentimental all of a sudden.
Did you wanting to actually see him change something? Did it remind him once again that you’re not just what you used to be? A way of passing time, a company to quench each other’s thirst?
Then again, you know Jungkook. He never forgets. Never forgets what you are to him.
Repeats each time just as he is now, “How did I end up with you?” Every time. Tells you every time that he cannot fathom his luck, that you’re more than he’ll ever deserve. He adds, “You want me to prove it to you?”
Oh…
That’s what he—
This time, the kiss is short-lived, albeit urgent. His hand cradles your face when he moves up and slides back home. He fucks you softer first, not as beastly as before. But you guess the distance is as irksome to him as to you, because he soon bends down.
Puts his hands on your ass and shifts your body on the mattress until you’re on your back, laying in front of him. Just the same position as before on the ground, but cosier; it’s easier to hover above you now, scanning your face like you’re the only star in the vast, expanding universe.
The only source of light in this darkened room.
“Hey,” he calls, even though you’re already looking at him.
He grazes your temple, tender as a flower petal. His eyes are a melting, dark brown, almost black; you think you see yourself in the reflection, even though it’s impossible in a setting like this — maybe that’s what he means when he says you reside in him.
Your existence in his chest, your eyes in his.
“I love you,” he then proclaims, “and I’ll show you all the fucking time if you need me to.”
“I… I want you to…”
“Good. Good, baby. You know I’ll do anything, right? Not just this and not just now. I’ll do anything for you.”
You half-smile as he says it, as much as possible between your moans; you don’t know what else to do, because nothing else suffices. Not an I would, too and not an I know.
So you say nothing; only raise your eyebrows and widen your eyes, showcasing every shred of affection you harbour. You keep looking at him until the thrusts force your eyes shut again. And this time, you don’t need long to fall into a series of gasps and outright craze.
You understand you’re close when he pleads, “Can you touch yourself? Please?”
And it helps — considering that you’re already riled up like not once in the past days, the next minutes pass fast, and the end is immediate. The familiar stars soon block your vision, your body quivering; you barely realise what happens and when it happens.
Nothing, but bliss bliss bliss…
Until you very clearly feel the liquid underneath your ass, the sheets soaked, all of it wet. You hear Jungkook laugh, absolutely satisfied. Your eyes rip open and you ask, “What happened?”
But the question is redundant — because as your mind clears, you gather what it could be.
You ruined the sheets. You’ll have to come up with a good ass excuse and ask the receptionist for a new blanket for your room. Fuck. A hell of a guest you are.
“You squirted all over my dick,” Jungkook still clarifies.
“I’m sorry…”
“What? No. It looks… it feels so…”
He doesn’t need to finish his sentence; it seems that the thought alone hardens his cock and balls impossibly. Enough for him to follow your example, letting go. He shakes his head, silences, and then moves in to kiss you hard; to fuck you harder.
He shoves you into the mattress repeatedly, navigating in and out of you so easily that you think he might slip out. But he doesn’t; instead, he spills. Spills hotly, abundantly. You know the bed is soiled forever.
Somehow, you’re even sorry for anyone who might book this room next; but somehow, as guilty as you might feel about it, you feel better for yourself. Then again — it’s fine, right? You’re probably not the first to make a mess of a room like this.
Making out with you one last time, Jungkook remains like thi, not wanting to move as his dick still pulsates and twitches, softening just slowly. Doesn’t want the liquid to leak if he moves out. Maybe thinking the same about the room as you.
His next question, however, is an entirely different one, “Do you believe me now?”
You titter. Even now, even after witnessing each of your reactions, your boyfriend won’t let the thought go. Set on what he feels for you, he’ll probably prove it to you an entire lifetime long.
You promise, “I always will. From anyone in this world, I’ll believe it the most from you.”
“My baby,” he coos. Waits. Then sighs before he says, “Okay, enough of that distraction. We have breakfast to catch. I bet you, five more minutes and they’ll knock.”
“Oh… uh-oh. Quick shower and then hurry?”
“…Great idea.”
Only, the shower isn’t as quick as you anticipated — the two of you are silly, reforming your shampoo hair, giggling until the knocks occur and you bolt to the breakfast hall. The others are already eating; by the looks of it, they’ve just started, though.
Yoongi is the first to speak after you’ve exchanged your polite Good mornings. In fact, he scolds rather gently, “You guys are late. We need to be at the beach by noon, don’t forget.”
“Yeah, we just…” You shrug. “We were organising our suitcases.”
“Yeah,” Jungkook nonchalantly confirms. “Forgot the time.”
Your excuses are so casual, so careful, your eyes busy as they watch your hands smear butter and jam on your toast. Only, you’re not as casual. Your friends fall silent. Their stares alternate between Jungkook and you as the two of you pass a knife or comment on the food.
No word until you hear Jimin gasp and look up at him. His expression seems amused, and you know he’s about to say something bold before he actually does—
“Oh, you fucked… You had the time to?!”
THE CHAPTER ISN'T OVER YET!! PLS READ 👇🏼
1k block limit, beloved. you can read the remaining 10k of the chapter in this reblog!! the reblog begins with a new scene <3
#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#bts smut#bts fluff#jeongguk smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#bts x you#bts imagines#jungkook fic#bts angst#jungkook angst#jungkook
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BITTER - LN
summary - lando and y/n will go to any length to piss each other off, which works well as long as she doesn't mention another man.
warnings: smut! MDNI!! doggy (who am i??), oral (f! receiving), lowkey hate sex but honestly it's just a miscommunication trope. NOT PROOF READ
song rec - bitter by fletcher
masterlist the playlist
she loved her job at mclaren. race days, office days - she loved all of it. except for one thing.
lando was that one thing. she got along with all the team members but him, and she didn't really know what was the problem, it just never clicked between the two of them.
"talking to your boyfriend?" he asked as he walked by her, noticing the hurried typing on her phone.
“….no?” she replied, half disinterested in the incoming conversation, half defensive.
"then why are you all giggly while staring at your phone then?" he asked, smirking as his plan to piss her off was working - he loved to piss her off.
“and why is it any of your business?”
“just curious is all,” he smirked as he came to stand next to her desk, leaning against it while his arms were crossed against his chest.
“why?”
“just is,” he said, smirk widening. he then glanced over her desk, curious to see what she were typing, trying to peer at her phone screen, “ooooh, is it about me?”
“of course it is,” she replied, grinning sarcastically, “because obviously i don’t have anything better to do on my paid hours.”
“well obviously, have you seen me?” he joked, using his hands to gesture to himself.
“meh - i’ve seen better.”
he raised an eyebrow, a curious look in his eyes. he then pushed away from the desk to stand in front of her, towering over her.
"oh really? who?”
“i mean, have you seen oscar lately?” she replied, hiding the smirk that so desperately wished to rise on her face as she tormented him.
“sure, i’ve seen him,” he muttered slightly bitterly, as rested an arm on the desk next to her, leaning down slowly till he was level with her ear, “bet he couldn’t fuck you like i could.”
and with that he stood up once more, spun on his heel and left the room, leaving y/n to sit in her own thoughts, a blush rising from her cheeks.
and the thoughts stayed with her for the rest of the day, on the cab journey to her hotel, on the ride up the elevator to her room, and as she sat trying to distract herself with mindless scrolling.
she wouldn’t deny lando was an attractive man, no. but would she ever give him the satisfaction of letting him know that? most definitely, but not without a little reluctancy. such reluctancy that had her hesitating outside of his hotel room door, raising her fist to knock then lowering it quickly as she reconsidered her options.
lando had just gotten out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist while his hair was still damp when the sound of the knock on his door echoed through the room, making him frown slightly as he went to answer it.
when he opened the door, he saw y/n standing in front of him, a surprised expression appearing on his face.
"hey. what are you doing here? is everything ok?" he asked, slightly concerned at her unusual quietness.
“prove it.”
he looked confused for a moment, having no idea why she was here. but, seeing the determined look in her eyes flipped on the lights in his brain. she wanted him to prove himself, prove that he could do better than oscar. smirking as he stood to the side, he let her into his hotel room before quietly closing the door and trailing behind her. he noticed how nervous she looked, sitting on the edge of his bed and fidgeting with her hands.
lando walked over to the bed, standing in front of her. his eyes never left her body as he stared down at her, wearing only a towel around his waist that highlighted the water that clung to his torso, something that her eyes tried not to linger on for too long.
“see something you like?” he teased. his ego inflated more when he saw how her cheeks gradually reddened under his gaze. lando chuckled lightly at her embarrassment, before taking a step closer to tower over her and lean down, his face close to hers.
“so cruel,” she almost whined, raising her gaze to meet his. his hands reached out to her face, grabbing at her jaw, and tilting her head slightly as though her were weighing up his options. he knew he had her right where he wanted her, and he loved it. he relished in the power he had over her.
he leaned down, kissing her gently, slowly - his soft lips moving against hers, gradually gaining confidence with every moment. he wanted to savour this moment. his hand moved to rest on her waist, the other remaining on her jaw as he swiped his tongue across her low lip, desperate for more.
lando’s body trailed down hers, nipping at her neck, kissing his way down until he sat on his knees in front of her.
“is this ok?” he asked, so desperate to taste her that his nerves slipped out with every word, though she only nodded in response, “words, angel.”
“yes, fuck. please,” she mewled, nodding as she did and eliciting a satisfied hum from the man kneeling in front of her. in that moment she felt like a goddess, and god did lando think she looked like one - half convinced if he looked up at her face quick enough, a halo would appear around her head.
“up,” he prompted, hands tugging at the waistband of her shorts, urging her to raise her hips enough for him to drag them down her legs, her underwear in tow, taking his time for what she supposed was dramatic effect.
“beautiful,” he whispered, his breath fanning the expanse of her heat sending a rush of ice cold blood through her entire body. he gave her no time to react before his tongue swiped through her folds, briefly circling around her heat but not enough to elicit the pleasure she craved so desperately, “taste so good,” he added, though his mouth turned to her inner thigh, nipping at the skin lightly as his hands gripped her legs, pushing them up to her chest.
he ate her like a man starved, a man desperate to prove himself, a man who was convinced that if this was his last meal on earth, he would die a happy man. her legs wriggled in his grasp with every flick of his tongue, every nip of his teeth on her inner thigh, but he just gripped at her flesh harder, keeping her legs still.
lando could feel her getting closer and closer to her high. he was enamoured by the way her legs tried to clamp closed around his head, caging him in, but he never relented. his tongue lapped up at her slick, flattening against her clit before slowly dragging the tip through her folds, circling her sensitivity. he pulled back to catch his breath, loosening his hold on her legs momentarily as he brought his face up to look at her.
her eyelids were heavy, her chest heaving as small pants and whines fell from her lips. her face had screwed up slightly, desperately holding onto the rising pleasure in her stomach that had been halted.
“please,” she begged.
“patience,” he reminded her, running his fingers down the skin of her thigh softly, “need to feel you. you want that? you want me to fuck you?” he added, egging her on to keep begging for him as his fingers returned to her clit, dragging the bud through his fingertips. he loved it, he relished in the power.
“please lando,” she panted out, staring down at him, “need you. need you to prov-”
“fuck off with this “proving myself” bullshit y/n,” he huffed, rising to stand in front of her once more, a playful anger in his tone, “when im done with you, you won’t be able to think about any one else again.”
his hands grabbed at her waist, turning her over quickly and pulling her hips backwards to meet his. his movements were harsh but god did she love it. lando leant over her frame, his lips pressing soft, deceiving kisses to her shoulder blade.
“oscar this, oscar that,” he muttered in her ear, grabbing his cock in his hand and sliding it through her folds, “don’t even need to fuck you to prove i can make you feel better than he ever could.”
she smiled at the thought. why was he so driven by the thought of proving himself - she’d only jokingly mentioned oscar to piss him off and clearly it was working. his tip pushed at her clit momentarily as his slid his length through her folds, covering herself in his slick. she whined out for him, wiping the smile from her face.
he pushed into her slowly, feeling the way her walls clamped around his cock at the intrusion before loosening, allowing him to take her fully, their skin connecting for a moment as her hand reached around to grab the hand that rested on her hip, urging him to pause whilst she caught her breath.
“what’s the matter baby?” lando questioned, voice laced with genuine concern despite his previous demeanour.
“too big. need a moment,” she breathed out, relaxing her muscles to accommodate him. lando couldn’t help the smug smirk rising on his face, knowing the effect he had on her.
“s’ok angel. i’ll go slow - okay?”
“mhm,” she murmured, rocking her hips back into his slowly to set her own pace, “fuck. move.”
his hips rolled into her slowly, jutting slightly when his tip hit her spongy walls, watching as her head dropped to the pillow, resting on the side, her mouth parted as she breathed through it. her hand finally dropped his, allowing him to return it to her hip, holding onto her for leverage as his thrusts quickened, cock slipping in and out of her with ease as she opened up for him.
“feel so good y/n,” he grunted, his fingers trailing down her skin, a hand stretching the expanse of her ass cheek before gripping at the flesh harshly, “look so pretty filled with my cock. sound so good when you’re moaning my name.”
“as opposed to complaining about everything you do?” she quipped back, taken them both by surprise at her level of coherency.
“i love when you get pissed off at me,” he grunted, lifting his hand up to plant a light smack across her flesh, “love to know you’re thinking about me,” he continued, grabbing at her skin quickly before slapping at the skin again.
“keep going,” she babbled, face turning into the duvet cover to silence her moans.
“what was that angel? i didn’t catch that,” lando’s voice let slip the smirk on his face, “you like it when i take you from behind?” he cooed.
“fuck yes. feels good.”
“speak to me baby, who makes you feel like this?”
“you, lando, you,” she moaned out, beginning to shake around him as her high approached, bringing him closer to his.
“no one else?”
“no one else,” she echoed, unable to think for herself.
“good girl,” he muttered, grabbing at her waist to hold her still as he fucked into her, resorting to using her body to get himself off. lando could feel the way she tightened around him, watching intently as her back arched for him, pressing herself impossibly close as his thrusts quickened, heightening in intensity.
“you gonna cum for me, angel?” he grunted, thumbs stroking gentle patterns into her skin, opposing the brutal snapping of his hips that echoed around the hotel room. she couldn’t even respond before she was shaking around him, rocking herself slowly into him as his hips faltered, allowing her the chance to catch her breath as she chased out the remanence of her pleasure.
“so good,” lando grunted out, “take me so well,” he continued, rambling as her heat squeezed at his length, luring him into orgasm. he pulled out quickly, pulling his cock through his hands a few times before watching as ropes of cum shot from his length, painting her back with intricate design.
he reached down quickly grabbing his towel from earlier to clean her up as her body collapsed in a pile on his bed, thanking the high heavens that he was in a hotel and would be able to request a new towel, no questions asked. manoeuvring her body, lando laid next to her, pulling her naked frame into his embrace and pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“it’s interesting,” she uttered after a few moments of silence.
“what is?”
“you’re the one that brought up fucking me better than oscar could,” she replied, smiling, “i never said anything to the contrary and yet somehow just the mere thought got you so riled up.”
“…isn’t it obvious?”
“what?” she echoed his previous confusion.
“i want you. and i want to be the only one you want,” he replied bluntly, as though it was a fact, “so if i get riled up by the thought you with someone else - shoot me, i guess,” he added, shrugging nonchalantly.
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris smut#lando x reader#lando smut#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#formula 1#mclaren f1#mclaren#lando norris fluff#propertyofwicked
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well kept [2] r. cameron
[warnings] dark!ceo!rafe x reader, size difference, billionaire!older!rafe, shy!reader with low self-esteem, reader is a person who stutters, boss x personal assistant, heavy abuse of power, emotional/mental manipulation, NONCON, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+
A/N: Pls reblog and let me know what you think!
word count: 4.5k
In which you officially enter into a world of high stakes and intense demands.
well kept masterlist
Your fingers traced the smooth edge of the new work bag that sat on your desk, a pristine luxury item whose brand you didn’t immediately recognize. It was medium-sized, big enough to fit your brand-new laptop, and an off-white color with pebble-textured leather.
“Wow, you clean up nice,” came a voice from behind you. You turned to find Eleanor approaching, coffee in hand.
Instinctively, you pulled down your skirt as she looked you over. You were effortlessly polished, for sure. You usually only get your hair professionally done for special occasions, opting for simple protective styles you could do yourself. However, you had to admit you felt pretty with your hair in a neat, braided rose that reached down to your lower back.
The clothes only amplified this unfamiliar sensation. After trying on eight outfits the previous night, you had settled on a cherry-red cropped blazer and a matching pleated skirt. You’d chosen the shortest heels Rafe had sent—a pair of white kitten heels adorned with gold bows. Your makeup, subtly applied, complemented the overall look.
Eleanor set her things down, straightened, and placed a hand on her slender hips. “Take your bag,” she said. “I’ll show you where Rafe expects you to work.”
“I thought that was my desk.”
“He’ll tell you where you need to be and when you need to be there.”
Her answer was simple enough.
You entered the luxurious space that Rafe called an office once again. Even when he wasn’t in the room, you were intimidated by it, “He had this brought in for you,” Facing the wall on the side of the room that held Rafe’s desk, in the corner, was a simple mahogany desk. The miniature version of Rafe’s desk. A cushioned stool was placed underneath and on top were a notebook, a cup of pens, and a small lamp, “This is where he’ll expect you most mornings. You’re to review his calendar before he arrives, memorize it, and you’ll brief him on the day when he walks in.”
“I’m ssss-supposed to be in here with him …all day? What if I, you know, need you?”
“I’m right down the hallway, or you can email me.”
Eleanor spent the next thirty minutes showing you their emailing system and how to access Rafe’s calendar. She even shared a large cheat sheet she’d made with all of Rafe’s preferred restaurants, coffee shops, hotels, and the names and numbers of his home staff.
When she left you alone, you looked around the room. The view of the office from your corner was daunting. However, your heart had been beating too fast ever since you met Rafe.
You turned your attention back to the calendar system. It was sleek and well-organized, and luckily, it was straightforward enough to navigate. You took note of his key meetings for the day and repeated them over in your head. You wrote down some notes in case your mind drew a blank. It was your first day, and he’d give you some grace, right?
You needed to be able to anticipate these needs, but all you knew about Rafe Cameron was that he was complex and demanding.
The sound of footsteps in the corridor drew your attention, and hurriedly, you glanced down at your note sheet again. Standing from your seat, you smoothed out your skirt, and with your notes in hand, you folded your palms in front of you.
Unconsciously, as he pushed open the doors, you sucked air into your lungs. You held your breath until his eyes met with yours. In comparison to when you first met him, he was dressed down. He wore a short-sleeve black polo black dress pants, black leather penny loafers on his feet and a briefcase in hand. His face was stoic as he looked you over and let the doors close behind him. As big as they were, they were practically silent went they closed, adding to the ominous feeling in the room.
You smiled, or tried to, “Good morning, Mr. Cameron, I’m–”
“I want you right here,” He interrupted, pointing down at the floor a foot before him. You stepped forward, hoping you wouldn’t trip like you had while practicing walking in them. Despite how he towered over you when you were this close, you made yourself comfortable there, “You’ll be right there every day when I walk in. Try again.”
“Good morning, Mr. Cameron-”
“I prefer Sir.”
Try again. Unfortunately, you were pretty used to being interrupted and forced to stop and start your sentences. “Good morning, Sir.” You were smiling as much as you could, but your throat hurt like your body wanted to cry. “Today, you’ll sss-start with three sss-separate online conferences with potential investors: Mr. Daniel, Mrs. Hunt, and Mr. Rivera. After lunch, you’ll have your weekly group meetings with department heads. You’ll start with Finance at one o’clock, Legal at two, and Design and Architecture at three. Your meeting with Property Management at four o’clock was canceled but rescheduled for Wednesday. For the rest of the day, you will be free to catch up with emails and ssss-submit the …. sss-ssss-strategic plan report you’ve been working on.”
He nodded once throughout your briefing, his face remaining impassive. You thought he might cringe at your mistakes, but he didn’t. You couldn’t help but feel like a strange choice for this job. Why would someone like him want to listen to you?
“Good,” he confirmed, and you were relieved only for a moment. You were okay until he started to look you over, “Turn around.”
You weren’t sure why you looked in his eyes to see if he was being serious. Of course, he was being serious. Awkwardly, you face away from him until he adds, “In a circle, please.”
You felt your cheeks heat up from embarrassment before you faced him again.
“I have a question,” You said.
“Yeah?”
“About the clothes. I …I didn’t know if it w-would be okay to return ssss-ssss-some of them. I just, there’s sss-so many.”
“And?” Rafe pressed, his brow furrowed.
“I-I don’t have that much room for them.”
“Hmm,” He thought briefly, “How’s this? You take a picture of yourself in each outfit and then email them to me, and I’ll decide which ones I want you to wear. But everything red can stay. I like the red.”
You opened your mouth to respond, but he brushed past you and returned to his desk. Unsure whether you were supposed to move or stay put, you waited in place.
“I’ll take a coffee. Black. Thanks.”
Eager to escape the room and not feel the weight of his gaze, you hurried out of the doors. Panicked, you approached Eleanor’s desk, waving your hands to get her attention. She was on the phone, but you mouthed “Coffee.” Acting as your life vest, she pointed you toward one of the many doors that lined the wall across from the reception area.
Inside, you expected to find a normal breakroom, but the room’s decoration reminded you more of a lounge. Black coffee should be easy enough, but your hands shook slightly as you worked the modern, sleek coffee maker. After you prepared the coffee, you took a breath, and made your way back to his office. You kept yourself as composed as possible, and he glanced up at you briefly as you entered. You set it carefully on the coaster near his computer.
He didn’t directly look at you or the coffee; you took that as your sign to retreat to your desk.
You sat quietly as he attended all three of his virtual meetings. Inevitably, you started to listen. Sometimes, you’d tune in, wanting to learn something, but you gave up a few times after realizing how complex things were.
When he finished all his meetings, he spoke up, “What are the arrangements for lunch?”
“Lunch …” You echoed, thinking about the calendar you recognize, “Is there sss-something sss-specific you’re in the mood for, sir?”
“On Mondays, I have lunch with my COO and CFO. We have standing reservations at several restaurants. You’ll need to pick one, call, and make sure everyone knows the plans.”
“Okay,” You nodded, “Yes, sir.”
Was that on the cheat sheet? Had you missed that? After scrolling a few times, you will find the list of restaurants and senior team members.
You called The Prime, an upscale steakhouse, for Rafe and his senior team, ensuring every detail was perfectly arranged. When it was time to leave, you stood to bid Rafe goodbye, only to be told you were expected to join him. Quickly gathering your things, you followed him down the elevator to the parking garage. Eleanor gave you an encouraging thumbs up and smile as you passed her.
You must’ve looked frightened.
Rafe’s choice of vehicle, a massive black truck with gleaming rims and immaculate leather seat, wasn’t a surprise, but his courteous gesture was. He opened the door for you and gently placed a hand on your hip to steady you as you navigated the high step into the truck.
“Th-Thank you,” You spoke, your voice small before he closed the door.
As you sat during the ride, you felt your thighs were too exposed. You crossed your legs, trying to alleviate that feeling, but it proved useless, “You’ll get used to it,” Rafe’s voice snapped you out of being consumed by your thoughts. You hadn’t realized he was even paying attention to you.
Hesitantly, your eyes roamed over him. His shirt's short sleeves did little to conceal the strength in his arms and the defined lines of his chest.
“You have a boyfriend?” He asked, his tone relaxed. He wasn’t allowed to ask that, but you recalled the words he had used with you the week prior. Would you fuck him? He’d already crossed a line. You needed to get used to his brashness, “A girlfriend?” He continued.
“I-I-I,” Breathe in, slowly release, “I don’t.”
“Have you ever had one?”
The underlying implication of his words made you defensive, and you crossed your arms, “Have you, Sir?”
He let our a short laugh, “You just seem a little uptight,” Your lips parted and eyes widened.
“What-”
“I haven’t dated anyone seriously in a while. But you don’t need to date someone seriously to get what you need from them. I guess I’m just wondering if you have someone who . . . relieves your stress.”
“I really, really don’t want to answer that,” You spoke slowly.
“Relax, we’re just talking. Is this going to be a problem? I’m just trying to get to know my newest employee.”
It felt like a mind game. He wasn’t like anyone you’d ever met before—every word, every glance from him seemed designed to put you on edge, to make you second-guess yourself.
“No, sir,” You replied, trying to keep your voice steady.
“Are you a virgin, Y/N?” He asked suddenly as if he’d had some brilliant revelation.
“N-No,” You stuttered, lying through your teeth, “I’m not.”
He made a “hmm” sound as he glanced at you, “Of course you’re not. Forgive me; I shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”
You understood quickly he wasn’t actually looking for your forgiveness. He was testing you, pushing boundaries just to see how you’d react.
When you arrived, Rafe pulled up to the valet stand, and a nicely dressed attendant quickly came over to open your door. You managed to step out with as much grace as you could muster, feeling the weight of Rafe’s eyes on you as you did. He was out of the truck in a heartbeat, striding around to join you, his hand again guiding you with that firm touch on your lower back. It was possessive, a silent declaration that you belonged to him, at least for the duration of this lunch.
The restaurant's setting was sophisticated and private, and you reached the table reserved for your group. The two of you were last to arrive, which meant all eyes fell on you as Rafe pulled out a chair for you right next to his seat. Two men were at the table, and you were taken aback by the fact that they were as young as Rafe.
“Guys, this is Y/N,” Rafe gestured to you, making himself comfortable, “Y/N, meet Topper Thornton and Kelce Adams.”
You managed to speak to them, though your words stumbled slightly. They eyed you the same way Rafe often did, like prey. You could almost imagine your name listed on the menu in front of them. But Rafe, with a swift shift in conversation, cut off their questions, his tone a clear warning. When you took a bit too long to decide on your meal, Rafe didn’t hesitate. He ordered for you the moment the waiter arrived, a subtle reminder of the control he held over every aspect of your life, even what you ate.
You couldn’t help but notice that Topper shared Eleanor’s last name. Were they married? Siblings? The thought lingered as you made a mental note to ask her later. Without another word, you pulled out your notebook, ready to take notes for the meeting.
Something in his last meeting had angered him. When he returned to his office, you watched him cross the room; your mouth wanted to form the words to ask, “What’s wrong?” but your lips pressed into a thin line instead.
As he settled in his desk, you pretended to be engrossed in your notes, hoping to avoid his attention. Ignoring the cold air in the room and the dark cloud hovering above him grew impossible. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched him. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers and tapped at the surface of his desk. Was it anxiety he was feeling?
“Come here, Y/N?”
Startled, you dropped your pen on the floor, the sound making him fully turn his head towards you. Awkwardly, you picked it up and set it down on your desk. You fixed your skirt as you crossed the distance between his desk and yours to keep it from riding up.
“Yes, sss-sir?”
His eyes were dark as he spun his chair to face you, “Tell me,” He began, “What do you think you did wrong today?”
Your mind raced. Did you do something wrong that you hadn’t realized? There were plenty of mistakes, but it was only your first day and you’d been completely thrown out of your comfort zone.
“I’m not ssss-sssure, sss-sir,” Your voice was barely above a whisper, a grimace on your face as you tried to force out the words.
“Not sure?” He echoed.
“I should’ve know t-t-to …” You pushed through that “stuck” feeling, “Make your lunch reservations.”
“That’s one.”
“Uhm,” Your voice trailed off as your bottom lip shook. You felt like a child being scolded. Why did you keep freezing? Why did you let him speak to you that way? “I-I-I-I-I…”
“Does it hurt, you know, when it gets that bad?” Rafe leaned back in his chair, his arms folded against his chest, now looking at you with curiosity and frustration.
You shook your head because it was all you could manage.
“You can’t think of anything else, huh?”
“I’m sss-sss-sorry,” As a tear fell from your eye, he stood from his chair.
He shushed you, grabbing ahold of the top of your arms, “You know I could have chose anyone for this job?”
You nodded.
“But I chose you,” You nodded again, “I do love to see you apologize, sweetheart, but you have to know what you’re apologizing for.”
“I’m sss-sssory,” You couldn’t help the apology that tumbled out again, “Fff-for not knowing.”
“There you go, yeah, that’s better,” He pulled you closer, and you felt his hand brush the strands of your hair over your shoulder, keeping it from your face, “I told you this would be a mutually beneficial relationship. You need money, someone to care take care of you… I need ... I need you. When you’re with me, you’re mine to do with as I please. Do you understand?”
You nodded, feeling like he was the only thing keeping you grounded. He dominated the space, his presence suffocating, and the fear of displeasing him made your breath catch in your throat. The boundaries between you blurred even further, leaving you more trapped than ever.
“Good girl,” one of his hands wrapped around the side of your neck. His gaze pierced into yours, his mind racing behind them, and he sighed as he mentally concluded, “I can’t punish you just yet.”
“Punish?” You asked in a whisper, his face moving in closer.
“You gotta learn somehow, right?”
Your eyes darted from his eyes to his lips, panicked. Nothing could have prepared you for him smashing his lips against yours. One hand was on your neck, and the other wrapped behind you, pulling you into him. Even as his kiss overwhelmed you, your mind couldn’t let go of the word he had just used—punish.
“I have to fuck you. I have to,” He growled between kisses.
Your hands pushed at his chest, but it was like trying to move a brick wall, “Please, Rafe,” You tried to say. Part of you thought using his real name would snap him from his trance, but he groaned into your mouth.
You’d never been kissed like this; no one had ever explored you with their tongue, and part of your mind seemed to rejoice. The other part, the rational one, told you to escape. You started to use your strength to pull from him as you stepped backward, but that only made him grip you harder.
You yelped, and when Rafe opened his eyes again, he smiled. Whatever weighed heavy on his mind before had clearly been relieved by the game he was trying to play. You stumbled back when he let you go, almost falling on your behind, “Go on,” He said with a smirk, “Just makes it more fun for me.”
Of all the games, you liked this one the least. You turned to flee, but before you could reach the door, he lifted you off the ground. You screamed, and the next thing you knew, you were being thrown onto the couch. Rafe pinned you down easily, his weight crushing you as he reached for your legs. You shut your thighs tightly, and his glare felt like a knife in your side.
“Do not!” He exploded, and you whimpered, “Hey, hey, sweetheart, I don’t want you to ever close your legs to me.”
“Rafe, please … please d-don’t,” Someone would hear. Eleanor would hear, wouldn’t she? She’d stop him before he went too far.
“God, I’d beat your fucking ass if I didn’t need to be inside of you right now,” He growled, prying your legs apart and tearing away your underwear as soon as he could feel it. He wrapped one hand around your throat, squeezing just enough to keep you pinned down, while the other undid his belt. “You don’t make demands anymore, do you understand?”
“I’ve-I’ve nnn-never…”
Understanding flashed in his eyes.
“You're a fucking virgin?” You nodded, feeling a small piece of hope, “We can add lying to that list of things you’ve done wrong, huh?”
He seemed to pause which you felt grateful for. His belt was already undone, his hips sinking into yours, “No one’s ever tasted you?” You shook your head, “You’ve never had a cock in your mouth either?”
You looked away, embarrassed.
“Fuck,” He breathed out, “You’re gonna be all mine.”
“Please-” You tried again, but he silenced you, pressing his lips to yours again.
This time, he was more deliberate with his movements. His hands traveled higher, and he reached into your shirt to gently knead at your breasts. He moved slower like he was savoring the moment. At the same time, you felt even more tortured. Your body betrayed you, responding to his caresses as if they were safe, as if he were someone you trusted. He was making all the right moves and your mind felt even more confused then your body.
Fingers pinched gently at your nipples and your lips parted into a moan. He used it as an opportunity to explore your mouth further. Next, he moved down your jaw and then he nuzzled his face into your neck. There was a place on your collarbone he’d found, one that made you yelp in pleasure, a spot you didn’t know existed. That’s what he wanted. To conquer you.
You felt warm between your legs and a slickness as you tried to move your legs. Rafe was still taking his time. He’d lifted your shirt, pulled down your bra, and placed your left breast into his mouth. You cried out, your back arching in an automatic response. If he kept going, you knew you could finish just from this alone, and the thought filled you with a mix of shame and despair.
Slowly, methodically, he dismantled your guard.
When he sensed you were ready, that he’d successfully turned your body on, he pulled down his briefs. You couldn’t bring yourself to look down. It was gonna hurt, either way, why dwell on the size? “Tell me,” He kissed your jaw, leaning down to your ear, “Ask me to take your virginity.”
You tensed, “I-I d-don’t.”
“I can make it hurt, Y/N,” He warned, “I promise, you want me to be gentle”
He pressed his tip against your entrance, and you were already cringing, “Fucking ask me, or I’ll push it all inside.”
“Will you …t-take my virginity?”
“Please,” he corrected, a dark satisfaction in his tone.“Where’s your manners?”
“Please, take mmm-my vvvv-vvvv-virginity,” He slowly started to enter you, and you pressed your hands against his chest.
You started to breathe heavily, “T-T-Too mmm-mmm-much.”
He pushed in more, “That’s just half, sweetheart. Take a deeper breath for me."
You listened even though he was hurting you. Even now, you believed him to be better than you. Looking up at him, you slowly breathed in and out. As you controlled your breathing, he started to move in and out of you. He cursed and grunted into your ear, soon falling into a rhythm.
Pain began to blur with something else, something you didn’t want to acknowledge.
It was a foreign feeling, being full of him, reaching to parts of you that had never been discovered. The only thing that felt wrong to you was how it was happening. Is this how it always felt? So completely all consuming? You were warm everywhere, a pressure building at your core, and you struggled to make a sound other than a moan.
With each thrust you let out a yip, not realizing that you’d stopped pushing at his chest and started pawing at it. That only encouraged him further. He reached underneath you, lifting your left leg to your chest, as he grabbed a handful of your ass. He pried you open further in this position and he looked down at you …almost grateful. He was savoring you and every moment that he was touching you, infiltrating your body. You’d never had someone want you like this.
Before you were even really aware of it, the pressure inside of you had built to a crescendo, and you’d cried out against Rafe’s lips.
He smiled against yours, “Good girl, sweetheart,” Tears escaped your eyes again, this time because of how confused your hormones were. It felt like an uncontrolled explosion of emotion.
Now, the sensation actually felt like something you couldn’t physically handle, “Oh my god, o-oh my god, ” You spoke over and over as you went back to pushing at his chest.
“Stay,” he commanded, his body pressing you down further as he slowed his movements, his rhythm faltering. “I’m almost done,” he added, a hint of amusement in his voice. “You’re squeezing so tight.”
“Please,” you begged, your legs starting to shake. “Please, Rafe.”
Your words seemed to bring his climax. Your second orgasm came painfully, and you scrambled to free yourself from under his weight after he finished sinking into you. Your legs didn’t stop shaking, but at least you could catch your breath.
Your bare bottom hit the plush carpet of his seating area, listening as Rafe’s heavy breathing slowed. You fixed your bra and top before you started to search for your underwear. To your dismay, they were completely torn.
“I’ll get you some new ones, some nicer ones, yeah?”
You nodded, though you weren’t sure why. Feeling his gaze, you pushed your skirt down next. Looking down, you realize his remnants were sliding down your thighs. You just shut your legs tighter. A hand on your back made you glance up at him. His eyes were still dark, but there was more satisfaction than before.
“We’re done for today, but before you leave, uh, Eleanor needs to see you.”
He stood, and you looked away as he started to zip up his pants and fasten his belt again.
“Th-That’s it?”
“Until tomorrow,” He said, his tone returned to business, as if the last few minutes were merely part of the workday.
You thought he was returning to his desk, but Rafe walked to your desk and collected your purse and computer. As you stood, your body ached, and you realized how disheveled you must look. Was your makeup smudged across your face? Did he bruise the back of your thighs?
Rafe brought you your things, his hands finding your lower back, “Go home. Get some rest. And don’t forget about those pictures, yeah?”
You nodded although your mind was elsewhere. The next thing you knew, you were standing on the other side of the door, clutching your bag tightly to your chest. Your mind started to wonder what exactly had caused all this. Was he mad at you, or was that I an excuse to …ruin you.
When you made it to Eleanor’s desk she asked you, “How was your first day?”
You nodded, trying to shake your expression into a smile, “I-It was … o-okay.”
There was no way she could have missed it in your eyes or in your appearance, but she continued, “I just need you to sign that NDA before you go. It’s completely standard procedure. It just assures that everything you see and hear is confidential. Protects the business.”
You took the papers from her and you tried to keep from shaking, “I can explain anything you need-”
“That’s okay,” You shook your head, knowing you just wanted to go home and hug your stuffed frog, “Thank you.”
You flipped through it quickly and signed your name where she indicated, “There’s one more thing. Are you on birth control?”
You stared, knowing the implication of the words. Why didn’t she warn you before you agreed to this?
You shook your head.
“You’ll need a Plan B. Should I pick it up for you, or would you prefer to do it yourself?”
Of course, you’d had friends who’d bought it before but the idea of going by yourself right now made you want to be sick. And you couldn’t tell your friends … at least not yet, “Could you … g-get it?”
“Of course, I’ll have it tomorrow,” She nodded and offered you a polite smile, “Do you need any help getting to the parking deck?”
You shook your head quickly, “I www-walked, thank you.”
As you made your way to the elevator, you wondered how your day spiraled so entirely out of your control.
Please reblog WITH your thoughts on the chapter to be added to the taglist for the story :) Also pls feel free to send me anons about your predictions/what you'd like to see in the story!
#dark fic#rafe cameron#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x black!reader#black!reader#rafe cameron smut#outer banks smut
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KAMPFyre: Part 3 - Future
~6.5k words, final part to this trilogy (more info in A/N at end), smut
“Where’s your phone?”
Responding was barely a possibility for you as you gasped for air, your chest heaving up and down as you lay on the couch. Without saying anything, you motioned generally towards your pants which were haphazardly thrown across the room in a mess on the floor.
“Code?”
“That’s… a secret…” you huffed, slowly regaining your breath.
Karina walked across the room and held your phone up to your face.
“Hey, that’s cheating,” you whined while making no effort to stop her.
She ignored you and started typing into your phone.
“You don’t have a girlfriend do you?” she asked, pausing and looking up from the screen.
“I feel like that’s something you should have asked earlier,” you laughed as you slipped your shirt back on.
“Do you?” Karina snapped at you. “I’ll delete my number right now if you do.”
“No, really, I don’t,” you chuckled, reaching for your underwear.
Karina held your phone up for a second as you were about to put on your underwear before she started typing into it.
“Did you just take a picture of my dick with my phone?”
“Yeah, I needed to send myself a message,” Karina replied nonchalantly before holding your phone out to you. “Don’t worry, as long as you didn’t lie about the girlfriend thing, no one else will see it.”
“You didn’t actually send it, did you?” you pressed as you slipped your underwear on.
“Of course I did.”
“Delete it.”
“No,” Karina laughed in your face. “Here, since you’re being such a baby about it,” she added after seeing your expression. The girl held your phone up and posed for a selfie. “There you go, the picture you got is worth way more, trust me.”
“What am I supposed to do with your number?” you asked, catching your phone as Karina tossed it to you.
“Oh my God,” Karina paused, shirt in hand, staring at you with mouth agape. “Did I just fuck an idiot?”
“Ha ha very funny,” you rolled your eyes and gestured towards your pants. “You know what I mean.”
“Well,” Karina replied while picking up your pants and handing them to you. “Depending on how tonight goes, maybe I’ll reply when you text me.”
“Tonight?” you inquired, a bit too excitedly.
“Awh, look at you,” Karina teased, staring at your crotch, not missing any opportunity to give you shit. “You’ll have to wait until we’re back at the hotel, unfortunately I’m in a bit of a rush and don’t have time for another round.”
After you slipped your pants on, you patiently watched Karina dress herself. She checked herself with her phone’s camera, clearly unhappy with the state of her hair. Despite her frustration, she settled with pulling her hood up before walking over to where you were sitting. Without any warning, she straddled your lap and stretched the neck of your shirt over your shoulder.
“What the fuck!” you shouted, almost instinctively throwing her off you as she bit into your skin.
“Something to remember me by,” Karina giggled as she stood up. “We’ll continue this at the hotel,” she instructed you while walking towards the door.
Naturally, you began following her when she stopped and turned around.
“You can’t come with me you idiot,” Karina said, looking at you in disbelief. “I swear you’re as dumb as Winter.”
“Why not?”
“Obviously because if anyone sees us they’ll start dating rumors,” Karina tutted. “Especially if they see that mark I left you.”
“How am I supposed to know how this shit works?” you countered. “I’ve never had to deal with dating scandal bullshit.”
“And to keep it that way, you’re going to arrive separately,” Karina instructed in a sarcastic over-the-top sweet voice. “Neither of us wants to deal with that, trust me.”
As soon as Karina closed the door behind her, you pulled out your phone and were about to delete the text she sent. Your plan changed, however, when you opened your phone and were greeted with the selfie she took; It definitely came as a surprise to see the selfie included much more than her face.
—
“You didn’t tell me you were sharing a room,” you whispered as soon as you heard the sound of the shower running.
“Oh fucking relax, you’re very familiar with her already,” Karina entered the hallway and closed the door behind her. “After I’m done with you, maybe you can convince her that your magic nut will make her skin glow or something.”
“It’s Winter? Wait then why are we leaving?” you joked as you followed Karina down the hallway.
“Ex’ fucking ‘scuse me?” she stopped and turned on her heels, glaring at you. “Go.”
She glowered at you, arms crossed, daring you to push the joke further. Part of you considered it, but you decided against risking it. Not an easy choice, not when Karina looked so fucking sexy when she was mad - a great combination when paired with her very short temper.
“That’s what I thought,” she turned back around and continued walking.
“You didn’t give me much of a choice,” you said while catching up with her. “I don’t have the keycard.”
Without missing a beat, she reached into her pocket and pulled it out, tossing it on the floor as she kept walking. She definitely let out a smug chuckle after she heard you pick it up and keep following her; The rest of the walk was silent until the two of you arrived at your destination - the rooftop.
“Wow,” you muttered as soon as the doors opened. “This is gorgeous.”
In front of you was the most luxurious and magnificent rooftop pool to have ever blessed your eyes. The dark blue water was dimly lit from underneath. Around the pool were a number of lounge chairs, also dimly lit by lamps. The whole scene was overlooking the city below, creating the most surreal atmosphere.
“I assume you can swim?” Karina asked, looking over her shoulder as she stepped out of her pants. “Hello?”
While the rooftop and everything was beautiful, you were at an absolute loss for words as your eyes fixated on Karina. Your brain didn’t even register that she had just asked you a question, all you could do was stare at her perfectly shaped ass in the dim light. Karina giggled, shaking her head before slipping off her shirt and bra, tossing them to the side, giving you a view of her toned back. She took just two steps before jumping into the pool, disappearing under the water.
“Aren’t you worried about getting caught?” you asked as you walked up to the side of the pool. “Anyone could come up here.”
“That’s the point,” Karina replied, pushing her hair out of her face. “I woulda brought you into my room otherwise, but where’s the fun in that?”
“Oh I’m sure there would be a lot of fun in that,” you began stripping down. “Maybe when we’re done here we can confirm?”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Karina scoffed. “Who says I’d want you in my room after?”
“Who says?” you repeated her words before pretending to hold up a phone. “What’s taking so long, I don’t want to be able to walk tomorrow, hurry up.”
“Oh shut up,” Karina laughed, splashing water at you before swimming to the middle of the pool. “Coming in or what?”
Of course you were, that wasn’t an offer to refuse. You quickly stripped down as well after taking a quick look around to make sure the roof was still empty before jumping into the pool - luckily it was heated, a marvelous blessing. You swam over to where Karina was playfully spinning around in the water.
“Are you always this wild?”
“That’s for you to find out,” she teased, moving her body closer to yours and turning around so that her back was facing you. “Don’t be shy now.”
Exactly the words you wanted to hear from this completely drop-dead gorgeous nude girl. You wrapped your arms around her body, under her arms, and grabbed two full handfuls of Karina’s beautiful tits. She leaned back against you, her ass pressing against your cock while you squished and squeezed her soft chest.
“You’re by far the hottest girl I’ve ever touched,” you whispered into her ear.
“Yeah? Tell me more,” she replied, pushing her ass back onto you.
“You also have the best tits I’ve ever held,” you breathed into her neck before kissing it.
“Careful,” Karina spun around so that she was facing you. “Can’t have you leaving any marks on me.”
“Like the one you gave me?”
She smirked as she placed her hands on your shoulders, gently rubbing where she bit you earlier.
“Does it hurt?” she teased, pressing down on the wound.
“Yeah it fucking hurts,” you answered while your hands grabbed her ass under the water and squeezed hard.
“I’m sure you’ll survive,” she smirked playfully. “Didn’t I make it worth it?”
“You’re still making it worth it,” you answered, giving her ass another rough squeeze.
“How about you stop treating me like a sex doll and tell me a bit about yourself,” Karina suggested, gently floating away from you.
“It’s tough when you look so much like one,” you teased back before moving your hands up from her ass, resting them on her hips instead. “Alright, what do you wanna know?”
“Anything,” she replied, her arms dangling on your shoulders now as she walked around the pool with you. “Other than your magical vocal cum, I really don’t know anything about you.”
“Well, I graduated last year, since then I’ve kinda just been trying to find a place for myself.”
“And you feel that place is working events?” Karina inquired.
“Nah, that was a part-time thing,” you replied. “Partially for the money, partially because I was bored.”
“How come you didn’t go into whatever you studied in college?” Karina continued. “Don’t tell me you have some useless arts degree or something.���
“For a singer, I figured you’d respect the arts a bit more.”
“Fair point,” Karina chuckled. “What was your major anyway?”
“Some bullshit in a field I’d never want to work in.”
Karina cocked an eyebrow at you.
“Not that I’m judging you for it, but then why…”
“Because I was lost coming out of highschool, didn’t know what I wanted to do.”
“I get that,” she said sympathetically. “It’s not an easy decision to make, especially at that age.”
“You say that, but didn’t you make your decision when you were way younger? It’s something I read when I was looking you guys up.”
“True, doesn’t mean it’s easy,” Karina continued. “Everyone goes through their own journey, I wouldn’t ever discredit that.”
“That’s quite the mature stance.”
“What, you don’t take me as mature?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You implied it.”
“I can’t tell if it’s the fact that we’re both naked,” you paused to look at her body. “But I feel some tension.”
“We’ll relieve all of that tension soon enough,” Karina smiled. “Tell me more about yourself, first. Relationships?”
“I told you I didn’t have a girlfriend,” you rolled your eyes.
“Stop being silly,” Karina giggled, flicking a few droplets of water onto your face. “Have you had any?”
“I ended my last one after my senior year,” you answered.
“Bad terms?”
“Not necessarily,” you replied. “She moved away, I wasn’t interested in long distance.”
“You weren’t interested in long distance or long distance with her?”
“I haven’t really thought about that before,” you pondered her question, it was an interesting one now that you had it in your mind. “Honestly, I want to say in general.”
Even in the dim light you noticed Karina’s face dropped just a tiny bit at that comment.
“But I’m not sure,” you continued. “I just haven’t done it before, so maybe with the right person?”
“It’s not easy, though,” Karina commented. “It usually doesn’t work out.”
“Maybe not, but I think for the right person it wouldn’t matter how difficult it is.”
“That’s a nice way to look at it,” Karina smiled at you.
“Who would have thought I’d be having a meaningful conversation in a setting like this tonight,” you chuckled. “You’re really just full of surprises.”
“Sometimes being vulnerable leads to good conversation,” Karina giggled. “So, what’s your next adventure?”
“I wish I knew myself,” you answered honestly. “I guess I’ll just see where life takes me.”
“Regardless of where you end up, I’m glad you decided to work the event tonight,” Karina again smiled warmly at you. “Somehow some way it led to where we are now.”
“Where we are now? You mean me having a bite mark on my shoulder?”
“Poor baby,” she mocked before pushing against your chest and swimming to the edge of the pool. She began climbing out, pausing with her ass facing you to look over her shoulder. “Come on, get your revenge then, I’m waiting.”
By the time you swam over, she had climbed out of the pool, standing there watching you as the night sky illuminated her bare body, hands on her hips. You climbed out of the pool and turned her around before slapping your palm against her ass, sending droplets of water flying in every direction.
“Oh yeah,” she cooed into the night sky. “Fucking punish me.”
“You done with your interview?”
“I guess so,” she responded. “Now let’s get to why you’re really here.”
The tonal shift of the night was music to your ears. She wanted it now, and that’s exactly what she’d get. You pushed her forward until she made contact with the railing at the edge of the roof, then you pushed some more until she was completely bent over.
It was the most beautiful sight. You dropped down to your knees and spread Karina’s ass cheeks apart before shoving your face into them. Your tongue made contact with her pussy, giving it a couple of deep licks before you slapped her ass and stood back up, grabbing your cock. Eating her out from behind was so tempting, but you knew you had to get on with it already.
“Come on, hurry up,” she gasped as soon as your cock rubbed against the entrance of her pussy, confirming what you already predicted. “Don’t make me bite you again.”
“You’re insatiable,” you moaned as your cock finally invaded her pussy.
“Fuck. Me.”
There was no easing into it, no point in taking it slow. Karina wanted your dick and she wanted it now. Really, it was your responsibility to deliver. You began thrusting into her pussy, spraying more water around as your skin slapped against her skin. Under your palms, her hips began shaking with each shove of your cock.
“Oh fuck yeah there we go,” she moaned. “Fuck me like your little whore.”
No matter how hard you slammed into Karina’s cheeks, the girl wanted more. It was absolutely overwhelming, this complete fuck-doll of a girl was absolutely breathtaking the way she took your dick. This girl left you esurient over her, forcing your body to try desperately to give her what she wanted - which was also exactly what you wanted.
“Harder,” she begged in desperation. “Fuck me harder.”
In an attempt to give the wanton girl what she wanted, you placed your hands on her shoulders, giving you better leverage. You started thrusting your hips even harder into her backside, each slap of skin on skin echoing into the night. Anyone with their window open would hear the wet smacking of your thighs into Karina’s ass.
Her pussy was gripping your cock hard, nearly cutting off circulation. She was incredibly tight, yet so easily fuckable. Not only did she manage to squeeze your cock hard with her pussy, she also gave you almost no resistance. Perhaps it felt this way because you were thrusting with all your strength - it didn’t fucking matter.
What mattered was Karina’s moans, her pussy around your cock, the warmth and wetness of her body combining with yours. Her pleasure became your pleasure. All the sexual tension between the two of you led up to this moment. Fucking her hard on this roof couldn’t be compared to anything else.
This was so much better than the post-show quickie from earlier. This time you had as long as you wanted. You could probably fuck Karina all night - she’d like that. Your body was the only thing holding you back, but even as you continuously plowed Karina’s soft body, you somehow found the strength to keep going as if stamina did not exist.
Your fingers squeezed her shoulders hard in an attempt to hold her steady. You couldn’t see them clearly, but even from behind you could see her massive tits flinging back and forth with each thrust. Her body was fucking perfect. Part of you wanted to reach around her and grab them again, but you weren’t capable of changing a thing right now. All you could do was keep the rhythmic thrusting of your hips going.
“I’m going to fucking cum!” she cried out, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the railing.
She deserved no reprieve, not that she wanted any. You knew exactly what she wanted, and you were going to keep giving it to her. In and out your cock went, destroying her pussy, pushing as deep as physically possible. Her body was starting to go limp, her legs starting to bed as she began depending on the railing to keep her upright.
Just as she was about to collapse, you let go of her shoulders and wrapped your arms around her body, holding her up for the final barrage of fucking. You drove as hard and fast as you could for what felt like minutes (but was probably just a few seconds) until a slurry of cuss words spilled out of Karina’s mouth in all of its orgasmic beauty.
Karina was practically sobbing as her body convulsed into a pile on the ground in front of you. She slipped one hand between her legs and began touching herself, her legs still squirming as her back arched towards the clouds above. With her free hand, she tried reaching up for your cock, missing entirely until you grabbed her wrist and guided her to your shaft.
“Fucking cum on me,” she panted, eyes still closed as she started jerking you off. “Wherever you want.”
Your cock was already itching to explode, and her repetitive ‘cum for me’ requests as she stroked your length had brought you as close to your own climax as possible. The possibilities quickly flashed before your eyes: cover her face, down her throat, on her tits, and anywhere else on that beautiful body of hers.
Ultimately, you didn’t even bother choosing, you simply enjoyed the sensation as Karina jerked you off. She opened her mouth, her eyes still closed at this point, and tried to feebly aim your cock towards it, but it was futile. As your cock began erupting, the initial massive spurts landed directly on her chest.
With any remaining consciousness you had left, you grabbed your cock and pushed it against Karina’s mouth until it entered her lips. She started sucking at your tip, letting the rest of your seed fill her mouth. The hand she had around your cock was now rubbing your cum all over her tits, leaving a glossy shine on her beautiful breasts. Her other hand was still working between her legs.
Once your cock had finally emptied itself, Karina opened up her eyes and looked straight up at you. With your tip still in her mouth, she began licking circles around it, coaxing out every last drop of cum until she was satisfied you were empty. Before letting go of your cock, she had already swallowed.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” you moaned, sliding down against the railing to sit next to her.
“I’m also covered in your cum,” she commented nonchalantly before turning to you. “Oh sorry, I thought we were sharing obvious truths.”
Both of you started giggling.
“Where the fuck have you been all my life,” you sighed, staring up at the sky.
“What matters is that I’m here now,” Karina replied, turning her head towards you.
“You’re right, there’s no point in us wasting any time,” you responded, reaching your hand over and sliding it between her legs.
“Now who’s insatiable,” she teased, spreading her legs to give you easier access while she reached her own hand towards your lap, grabbing your semi-erect cock. “Ooh, still sensitive are we?”
“Give me a moment,” you moaned as electric shocks shot up your spine at Karina’s touch.
“No,” she giggled as she continued to stroke your cock, making you squirm in her hand.
It was too much for your body. You grabbed her wrist and forced her away, and before she could protest you had already pushed her onto her back so that she was lying beneath you. With one hand on each of her tits, you slid your face down her body until you were right in front of her pussy.
Karina placed her hands on top of yours, squeezing your hands into her tits as soon as your lips touched her pussy. Her breaths started getting heavier as your tongue probed at her clit. By the time you pressed your mouth against her pussy, she was panting. You went from licking all around her pussy to shoving your tongue inside her, tasting her from inside. She let go of your hands and grabbed your hair, pressing your face deeper into her delicious pussy.
Your own hands slowly slid down her body, smearing the cum on her tits all over her. You moved your face back and shoved two fingers into her pussy, watching her writhe in pleasure for a moment before planting your lips on her clit, stimulating as much of her body as you could.
“Oh fuck- please- fuck-” Karina gasped, incapable of forming any coherent sentences. “I’m- fuck-”
With your free hand, you grabbed your cock and gave it a couple of strokes. It was rock hard and ready to go, but you waited until Karina’s body stopped squirming so violently - depriving her of this pleasure would be an unforgivable crime.
“You’re making me fucking cum,” Karina cried out, almost pulling the hair off your scalp. “I’m…”
She calmed down suddenly, the energy draining out of her. The only movements left were the deep breaths she took and the little jolts every time your fingers moved inside her. Slowly, you withdrew both fingers and sensually ran them up her body towards her mouth. She opened her lips just wide enough for you to put your fingers into her mouth, sucking on them with any remaining energy she had left.
After giving her a few moments to compose herself, you got up onto your knees and positioned yourself between Karina’s legs. Your cock was throbbing at this point, begging you to enter her pussy again. You gripped the base and slowly rubbed it up and down Karina’s pussy until she opened her eyes and stared at you. Just as you were about to push into her, she shook her head.
“Stop,” she mumbled before sitting up in front of you.
Karina pushed you back with her hand until you were sitting with your back against the railing. The sheer sexiness she was emitting as she crawled forward towards you, her massive tits hanging down in front of her as she bent over you, had your cock ready to erupt already - and she hadn’t even touched it yet.
She held her mouth over your shaft, eyes looking down, parting her lips enough to let a glob of spit fall down onto your tip. Then, in one single motion, she brought her mouth down to your cock and slowly lowered it until she had engulfed your entire shaft, spreading her saliva evenly across your cock.
“Oh my fucking God,” you gasped as her tongue gently toyed with your tip. “Karina…”
Slowly, she brought her lips back up and sat up straight in front of you. She stared directly into your eyes with the most lascivious gaze you have ever seen in your life as her hand grabbed your cock, giving it a single stroke before she straddled your body. She already had your cock trembling and she knew it.
With one hand guiding your cock, she slowly lowered herself onto you. Your body entered her seamlessly, reuniting with that divine feeling of Karina’s pussy. She lowered herself all the way, letting go of your cock and putting both of her hands on your shoulders. She went up and down a couple more times, painfully slowly.
Each time she moved her body, you were scared she’d send you right over the edge. You didn’t want this to end - not yet. In an attempt to draw it out as long as possible, you sat still, closing your eyes tight. Steadily, she began speeding up just a bit. As you got closer and closer, she moved quicker and quicker.
“I’m really fucking close,” you moaned. “You’re going to make me cum.”
“Let it happen,” she whispered before grabbing the back of your head and pressing it into her chest. “Cum in me.”
That was too much for you. As soon as you heard her words and felt her soft tits engulf your face, you knew it was over. You were seconds away from exploding, nothing could stop you now. Knowing this, you reached your arms around her body and grabbed her ass with each hand.
With Karina’s tits still pressed against your face, you started thrusting your hips upwards. Each thrust pressed her tits harder against your skin. It only lasted probably ten seconds before you began unloading. You had no more energy to do anything but hold onto Karina’s body, you held steady as your cock launched cum deep into her pussy.
Each spurt of cum felt like a bullet with the force it launched out with. There was a lot, more than you thought possible considering all the previous events of the night; Your cock felt like it was never going to stop. Burst after burst of your seed painted Karina’s insides, overflowing as some of the warm mess slid down your shaft as well. Eventually, your cock did manage to calm down.
“Holy fucking shit,” you moaned, letting go of Karina’s body slowly.
She leaned back, smiling proudly at you before slowly lifting herself up. A gush of your cum spilled out of her pussy immediately, landing all over your crotch.
“How was that?” she slurred before bending over and licking at your tip gently.
It almost made you want to cry with how sensitive your cock was right now, but at least Karina was being gentle for once.
“Fucking perfect,” you moaned.
Karina played with the mess of cum, using her pinky finger to scoop some into her mouth before she went back to playfully licking at your tip.
“Let’s get cleaned up,” she suggested after giving you a few moments to gather your strength. She stood up and held her hands out for you.
The two of you rinsed off using the outdoor showers by the pool before grabbing towels.
“It’s getting kinda chilly up here” you said hesitantly, hoping the night would last forever.
“Down to come to the room for a bit?” Karina asked, equally hesitantly. “I know it’s late-”
“Yes absolutely.”
Her bright smile could have put the moon to shame.
—
“Winter is probably asleep by now, so just come out to the balcony,” Karina whispered as she carefully closed the door behind you.
Sure enough, Winter was asleep on the bed. The shocker, however, was the fact that half of her body wasn’t covered by the sheets. In fact, it wasn’t covered by anything, apparently Winter liked sleeping nude. The two of you carefully stepped out onto the balcony, closing the door behind you.
“What a night,” Karina sighed, leaning against the railing.
“I know right,” you agreed, taking in the beautiful view before you. “Wherever we end up now, I’ll never forget this night,” you muttered, staring into the night sky.
Karina took a step closer to you and leaned her head against your shoulder.
“I still don’t quite understand how things happened like this, but I’m glad they did,” she whispered softly.
It was oddly intimate - not something you expected from an arrangement born out of pure lust, but it felt nice. You stood there silently, simply enjoying Karina’s company, almost forgetting about the more carnal activities of the night. Seeing Karina’s sentimental side really put into perspective how unorthodox everything was.
Not that it mattered, this would probably be the last time you’d ever talk to the girl let alone see her again. To think, this girl who you didn’t know existed this morning, was now making your chest thump as if you were about to lose a significant part of your life. It was just one night, but why did it feel like so much more? It’s not like this was your first one night stand with a girl.
“This sucks,” Karina mumbled quietly.
“Well shit, my bad, I’ll leave.”
“Oh shush,” Karina lifted her head off your shoulder and turned to face you, leaning on the railing with you.
The amount of pure melancholy in her eyes was not something you were prepared to see. Carefully, you used your thumbs to wipe under her eyes before any tears fell.
“A girl my age…” Karina explained. “I just… I love sex, but it fucking sucks not being able to do this back home.”
“I hope I’m not overstepping with this, but why exactly can’t you?” you probed gently. “I only mean that a girl as beautiful as you… it shouldn’t be very difficult?”
“Ever since I became an idol, I’ve essentially been banned from anything related to guys,” she sighed, her breath filled to the brim with sorrow. “I love it of course, don’t get me wrong, I just miss this one part of my life from before.”
“Again, risk of overstepping, but why-”
“Why’d I do all this with you?” Karina finished your sentence. “I don’t know, maybe it was just seeing your cock out when I walked in the room earlier, maybe it was because Winter mentioned that you had no idea who we were, or maybe I’m tired of not getting any action.”
“I… don’t really know what to say.”
“I guess I just trust you, can’t really explain it,” she continued softly. “Probably why I took that picture on your phone.”
“Yeah I was gonna ask about that actually.”
“It doesn’t really matter,” Karina laughed. “Even if you did post it somewhere, everyone would just think it’s fake.”
“I’m not going to post it.”
There was a moment’s pause between the two of you before Karina spoke up again.
“Come back with us.”
“What?” you couldn’t believe your ears. “What do you mean?”
“Quit your job and come to Korea with us.”
“I’m afraid it’s not that simple,” you chuckled. “As much as I wish I could just get up and move to Korea, I don’t know if I can.”
“How about you at least stay with us for the next week while we’re in the US?” Karina pleaded. “What’ll it take to make you quit your job?”
“Holy shit you’re being serious right now,” you responded. “I mean, working the event was a part-time job, this was my last night…”
“Great, so how about for just the next week you stay, and we’ll figure the rest out later.”
“Karina-”
“We’ll cover the costs, food, transport, whatever you need,” she continued. “Please?”
Before answering, you took a second to think about what to say.
“Are you sure this is what you actually want?” you asked cautiously. “We obviously just had a lot of fun tonight, but I don’t want that to influence you into doing something you’d regret.”
“Fuck’s sake, stop overthinking it,” Karina rolled her eyes at you. “Spend the next week sleeping with me, and if I get bored I’ll just kick you out.”
“When you put it like that, what’s there really to lose?” you laughed as her aggressive nature returned. “Alright, for one week your sweet ass belongs to me.”
“Belongs to you?” Karina’s head launched back as she burst out laughing. “That’s so cute coming from a glorified dildo.”
“Glorified dildo? I’ll take it.”
The two of you laughed together, simply enjoying each other’s company. The way her eyes, lit up by the scarce moonlight, shined through her squint. Those adorable upside down crescents were making your heartbeat just a little bit quicker. As the laughs subsided, she stared at you tenderly with a smile on her lips.
“Can I kiss you?” she asked suddenly.
After everything the two of you did tonight, one would assume this was an irrelevant question, but it was potentially the most attractive thing she did all night. You didn’t even answer her with words; Without a second thought, you stepped right in front of her and grabbed her face with both hands before tilting your head sideways and pushing your lips to hers.
She kissed you back, her arms wrapping around your back, pushing you closer to her. Her lips, so plump and full, felt absolutely perfect. The kiss felt perfect. She felt perfect. The sun could have come up for all you cared, nothing would make you want to end this moment - that was until you heard the door open behind you.
“I heard laughing,” a groggy voice came through the curtains.
Karina immediately stepped back from you as both of you turned to see Winter step onto the balcony, rubbing her eyes with her hands.
“I’m sorry, we didn’t mean to wake you,” Karina pulled her into a hug, patting her back. “Let’s go inside, you’re not dressed to be on the balcony.”
It was very true, the girl who would sleep nude only bothered putting on a shirt before coming out to the balcony. You followed the two of them into the room where Winter slipped back into her bed and Karina sat next to her.
“So is someone going to explain what’s going on?” Winter asked, still in her groggy state.
“We were just chatting,” Karina started.
“About what?” Winter pressed before turning to look at you. “Oh also, hello! It’s nice to see you again.”
“Hey, likewise!” you responded warmly, waiting for Karina to take the lead.
“I was thinking,” Karina continued. “If you really felt like your arrangement with him worked, why don’t we keep him around until we have to go back home?”
“Do you really believe me now?” Winter asked Karina excitedly.
“I… do…” Karina faked a smile back.
Winter jumped up and pulled Karina into a hug, letting the bed sheets fall off her, revealing her bare ass to you.
“Thank you thank you thank you for this!” Winter cheered, any sleepiness from a moment ago completely absent. “This is an amazing idea!” Winter let go of Karina and turned around to face you, sitting on her knees on the bed. “And thank you for doing this for us!”
“Us?” Karina interjected.
“Yeah, you’re also going to keep swallowing loads, right?” Winter asked innocently.
“Of course she is,” you answered before she could say anything. “In fact, Karina was telling me something about it making your skin glow.”
“Really?” Winter gasped, covering her mouth. “I’d love to try that.”
She really made it too easy.
“How about tomorrow?” you suggested. “That way the two of you can rest up, it’s pretty late after all.”
“Great idea,” Karina replied from behind Winter’s back, shaking her head at your ridiculous plan. “I guess you might as well spend the night, like you said, it’s pretty late.”
—
Your brain turned on before your body. At this moment, nothing could get you to open your eyes and get out of bed, especially after that phenomenal dream. Maybe laying in the soft sheets would let you relive it some more, experience that vivid sensation of fucking this mystery girl named Karina. You let yourself relish in the state of bliss for just a bit longer before opening your eyes.
That’s when it hit you - it wasn’t a dream. In the next bed lay Winter, peacefully exhaling through her nose. You got out of the bed and then the next segment of reality hit you - you were incredibly sore.
“Fuck,” you whispered quietly to avoid waking Winter as you clutched your abs.
Once you stood up, you stretched as far as you could, reaching towards the roof. The curtain was left mostly open, letting in the morning sun. You walked over to close it, not wanting to disturb the peaceful girl sleeping. As you started walking towards the bathroom, curiosity got the best of you and you took a little detour to walk next to Winter’s bed.
Carefully, to make sure she didn’t wake up, you lifted the sheets and took a peek under them. Just as you thought, she was wearing nothing but a shirt. You gently put the sheets back as the reality was really starting to set in; Everything that happened last night was real.
After using the bathroom, you stood in front of the sink and splashed your face with water a couple of times to help wake you up. That’s when the next question hit you - Where was Karina? Maybe that part wasn’t real? Then you remembered something, you stretched the neck of your shirt over your shoulder and sure enough there it was, the bite mark she left. You let out a sigh of relief as you realized everything was real.
Your calmness didn’t last long as someone started slamming on the door.
“Are you almost done? I need to pee!”
“Sorry, go ahead,” you opened the door to see Winter standing there
She ran in and didn’t even bother closing the door. You quickly stepped out of the bathroom, giving her privacy. Once she was done, she came out into the room and stood in front of you.
“Can we try the skin thing now?” Winter asked innocently, not caring that she was still wearing nothing but a shirt.
“Skin… oh right, that.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Oh, um, of course we can,” you replied. “Do you know where Karina went by the way?”
Almost as if she was waiting for you to ask, there was a knock on the door.
“I got it,” you quickly stopped Winter from answering it, gesturing downwards.
“Oh, right,” Winter giggled. “Let me put on some clothes.”
“You still have my keycard,” Karina announced as soon as you let her in. “I ordered breakfast.”
“You know you could have just called them,” you said.
“I didn’t want to wake you up,” Karina replied, her cheeks tinted slightly pink.
“Oh.”
There was a moment of silence in the room before Winter broke it.
“Is there something going on here?”
“Nothing like that,” Karina answered immediately.
“Okay, good,” Winter said cheerily as she jumped onto her bed. “I, for one, am very excited for my upcoming vocal lessons.”
“And a new skincare routine,” you added.
“Skincare routine,” Karina repeated quietly so only you could hear, shaking her head. “I can’t believe my life right now.”
“Get used to it, you’ve committed to a week,” you whispered back to her.
“Don’t make me change my mind.”
---
A/N:
There we go, since the last part had such a phenomenal reaction and because I've really been wanting to write Karina, the not-very-long awaited sequel is here. As I mentioned above, this is the final part to this trilogy. HOWEVER, I'm not opposed to continuing this story in another fashion, perhaps a small time skip leading into another trilogy. I'll have to think about what exactly I want to do, but I have a strong feeling this won't be the last time I write this version of Aespa.
Hope you guys enjoyed, I wouldn't expect another update from me any time soon. I'm still working on my Dating Seraphs series, this was just a small yet fun detour, but I have no idea when the next update will be for it. Huge thanks to everyone who left a kind comment or message or simply just read and enjoyed the last part, it really helped inspire my "return" to writing!
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Good question:
In the United States, many jails and prisons can and will charge you money for every single night that you spend imprisoned, for the entire duration of your incarceration, as if you were being billed for staying at a hotel. Even if you are incarcerated for years. Adding up to tens of thousands of dollars. What happens when you’re released?
In response to this:
---
So.
You’re getting charged, like, ten dollars every time you even submit a request form to possibly be seen by a doctor or dentist.
You’re getting charged maybe five dollars for ten minutes on the phone.
Any time a friend or family tries to send you like five dollars so that you can buy some toothpaste or lotion, or maybe a snack from the commissary since you’re diabetic and the “meals” have left you malnourished, maybe half of that money gets taken as a “service fee” by the corporate contractor that the prison uses to manage your pre-paid debit card. So you’re already losing money every day just by being there.
What happens if you can’t pay?
In some places, after serving just a couple of years for drugs charges, almost 20 years after being released, the state can still hunt you down for over $80,000 that you “owe” as if it were a per-night room-and-board accommodations charge, like this recent highly-publicized case in Connecticut:
Excerpt:
Two decades after her release from prison, [TB] feels she is still being punished. When her mother died two years ago, the state of Connecticut put a lien on the Stamford home she and her siblings inherited. It said she owed $83,762 to cover the cost of her 2 1/2 year imprisonment for drug crimes. [...] “I’m about to be homeless,” said [TB], 58, who in March [2022] became the lead plaintiff in a lawsuit challenging the state law that charges prisoners $249 a day for the cost of their incarceration. [...] All but two states have so-called “pay-to-stay” laws that make prisoners pay for their time behind bars [...]. Critics say it’s an unfair second penalty that hinders rehabilitation by putting former inmates in debt for life. Efforts have been underway in some places to scale back or eliminate such policies. Two states — Illinois and New Hampshire — have repealed their laws since 2019. [...] Pay-to-stay laws were put into place in many areas during the tough-on-crime era of the 1980s and ’90s, said Brittany Friedman, an assistant professor of sociology at University of Southern California who is leading a study of the practice. [...] Connecticut used to collect prison debt by attaching an automatic lien to every inmate, claiming half of any financial windfall they might receive for up to 20 years after they are released from prison [...].
Text by: Pat Eaton-Robb. “At $249 per day, prison stays leave ex-inmates deep in debt.” AP News / The Associated Press. 27 August 2022.
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---
Look at this:
To help her son, Cindy started depositing between $50 to $100 a week into Matthew’s account, money he could use to buy food from the prison commissary, such as packaged ramen noodles, cookies, or peanut butter and jelly to make sandwiches. Cindy said sending that money wasn’t necessarily an expense she could afford. “No one can,” she said. So far in the past month, she estimates she sent Matthew close to $300. But in reality, he only received half of that amount. The balance goes straight to the prison to pay off the $1,000 in “rent” that the prison charged Matthew for his prior incarceration. [...] A PA Post examination of six county budgets (Crawford, Dauphin, Lebanon, Lehigh, Venango and Indiana) showed that those counties’ prisons have collected more than $15 million from inmates — almost half is for daily room and board fees that are meant to cover at least a portion of the costs with housing and food. Prisoners who don’t work are still expected to pay. If they don’t, their bills are sent to collections agencies, which can report the debts to credit bureaus. [...] Between 2014 and 2017, the Indiana County Prison — which has an average inmate population of 87 people — collected nearly $3 million from its prisoners. In the past five years, Lebanon’s jail collected just over $2 million in housing and processing fees.
Text by: Joseph Darius Jaafari. “Paying rent to your jailers: Inmates are billed millions of dollars for their stays in Pa. prisons.” WHYY (PBS). 10 December 2019. Originally published at PA Post.
---
Pay-to-stay, the practice of charging people to pay for their own jail or prison confinement, is being enforced unfairly by using criminal, civil and administrative law, according to a new Rutgers University-New Brunswick led study. The study [...] finds that charging pay-to-stay fees is triggered by criminal justice contact but possible due to the co-opting of civil and administrative institutions, like social service agencies and state treasuries that oversee benefits, which are outside the realm of criminal justice. “A person can be charged $20 to $80 a day for their incarceration,” said author Brittany Friedman, an assistant professor of sociology and a faculty affiliate of Rutgers' criminal justice program. “That per diem rate can lead to hundreds of thousands of dollars in fees when a person gets out of prison. To recoup fees, states use civil means such as lawsuits and wage garnishment against currently and formerly incarcerated people, and regularly use administrative means such as seizing employment pensions, tax refunds and public benefits to satisfy the debt.” [...] Civil penalties are enacted on family members if the defendant cannot pay and in states such as Florida, Nevada and Idaho can occur even after the original defendant is deceased. [...]
Text by: Megan Schumann. “States Unfairly Burdening Incarcerated People With “Pay-to-Stay” Fees.” Rutgers press release. 20 November 2020.
---
So, to pay for your own imprisonment, states can:
-- hunt you down for decades (track you down 20 years later, charge you tens of thousands of dollars, and take your house away)
-- put a lien on your vehicle, house
-- garnish your paycheck/wages
-- seize your tax refund
-- send collections agencies after you
-- take your public assistance benefits
-- sue you in civil court
-- take money from your family even after you’re dead
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mile high club - s.r.
spencer reid x bau fem reader
18+ ONLY MDNI
warnings: secret relationship, public sex, soft dom spencer, very jealous reader, doctor kink, praise kink, unprotected piv sex, cream pie
a/n: this is based on a request i had gotten a while back on my old account for spencer. plane sex is one of my favorite scenarios with him so i hope you enjoy. also please go easy on me, it’s been a WHILE since i’ve written for our little genius. xx
word count: 2.2k
“Shh, love. We wouldn’t want the others to hear you, now would we?”
His lips brush against your ear as his hand reaches up to cover your mouth, the other slipping further into your panties. Your breath hitches as he slides another finger inside your entrance, letting your body mold against his in the small space.
Out of all the places he could’ve done this— you never expected the jet bathroom.
But even Dr. Spencer ‘kissing is more sanitary than shaking hands’ Reid could only resist your teasing for so long.
It had started earlier that morning while you were still at the precinct. Subtle brushes of your fingertips against his back as he worked on his geological profile, his eyes continuously finding yours through the plexiglass screen. You found any opportunity to invade his space, your perfume overwhelming his senses. But that wasn’t enough for you.
Once the rest of the team had left to chase down a possible lead, you made your move. Purposefully leaning over the desk across from him as he went through the case file again. Your eyes sparkled in amusement as his adam’s apple bobbed, hazel eyes locked on where your blouse was undone. The lace of your push up bra just barely peeking out.
You were driving him insane.
But this was your way of getting him back, after having to watch the lead detective on this case blatantly flirt with him. She batted her doe eyes at him, volunteered to help him any chance she could. It was embarrassing really, how much she threw herself at him. But you couldn’t help but feel that surge of jealousy clawing at your throat.
Because to anyone else, he was free game.
You had been sneaking around together for well over a month, after a mishap on a previous case. The hotel had mistakenly booked you a single bed room, and there were no other rooms available. And none of your team was willing to switch. “He snores too much,” Morgan had all but insisted.
While Spencer was adamant he would sleep on the floor, or the chair in the corner, you wouldn’t allow it.
After two nights of unbearable sexual tension it was him who finally snapped, after you crawled into bed in a pair of sleep shorts that barely covered your ass. His body melted into yours as he kissed you, effectively stealing the air from your lungs. He rolled your body beneath him, your fingers lacing together as he buried himself inside you.
The chemistry between you was always there, but neither of you were quite willing to cross that line of professionalism and friendship until that night. But now that you had a taste of him, you were downright insatiable.
You could barely keep your hands off of each other, in private and in public. Which for someone as non touchy as Spencer Reid… people quickly began to notice. Regardless, you both tried to keep it a secret from your team, knowing agents in the same unit weren't allowed to fraternize.
But that didn’t stop you from pulling him into an empty office for a quickie at Quantico, or him sneaking into your hotel room while on a case. Your relationship was becoming harder and harder to hide from everyone, but this might have been your final straw.
The case had wrapped up later that evening, the unsub was caught and you were beyond relieved when you left the station and that detective behind. But that relief soon bleed into irritation as Morgan plopped down across from you and Spencer on the jet. A megawatt smile was stretched across his face as he slid one earbud out of his ear.
“So kid, heard you landed Detective Reynold’s digits,” he chuckles.
Spencer can feel the way you tense up, but you keep your gaze focused on the case file in front of you. Feigning disinterest in their conversation, but your boyfriend knows better.
“Uh, I did. But I politely declined.”
Derek’s scoff has you nearly rolling your eyes, gripping your pen tighter in between your fingers as you tap it on the table.
“Now why is that, pretty boy? Got some secret girlfriend that we don’t know about?”
Spencer groans, running a hand through his tousled hair. What you don’t notice is the way Derek eyes the two of you suspiciously.
“No— she’s just not my type,” he sighs.
“A beautiful woman isn’t your type?”
You pinch the bridge of your nose, closing the case file with a little more force than necessary. Both males turn to look at you now, unable to hide your irritation anymore.
“I have a killer migraine so if the two of you could shut it for the next hour that would be wonderful,” you huff.
Before either of them have time to reply you lean your head back against the seat and close your eyes. Finding yourself holding back a grin as Emily echoes your sentiment. The jet settles into a comfortable silence then, the lights dimming in the cabin.
When you dare to peek your eyes open Morgan has already moved back to his original seat, leaving you and Spencer alone again. You had felt his eyes on you long before you met his gaze, his dark hues boring into yours with an intensity that has your stomach fluttering.
“Stop looking at me like that,” you whisper under your breath, letting your eyes drop to your lap.
“Like what?” He answers tensely.
“You know what, Spence.”
You shift in your chair, thighs pressing together as you cross your legs. Now was not the time. Not in the jet with your nosy coworkers surrounding you. As much as you’d love to climb into his lap and muss up his hair more, that would be far too risky.
So you both remained silent for a while, but the air between you was taut with tension. Just waiting for one of you to break it, but you refused to let it be you. As much as you reassured yourself that Spencer rejected that woman’s advances, it was still hard for you to watch.
Spencer must have seen that flash of hurt pass over your features, and he is unable to hold back anymore as he leans further into your space.
“Bathroom,” you feel his lips at your ear then, a shiver passing through you as he speaks. “Right now.”
From the authoritative lithe in his tone you know not to disobey him, carefully rising from your seat to head to the small bathroom. The rest of your team look as though they are asleep when you pass them, a sense of relief floods as you gently shut the door behind you.
You lean your palms against the countertop, glancing at yourself in the mirror. It’s a few minutes before you hear the door click open, and your eyes fall as you feel the heat of his body behind yours.
You both don’t utter a word as he cages you in, his forearms grazing your own. The veins in his hands protrude as he grips the edge of the counter and his chin rests on your shoulder.
“So,” he hums, his breath tickling your neck. “Someone’s feeling a little jealous?”
You scoff, finally meeting his brooding gaze in the reflection of the mirror.
“I am not jealous.”
Spencer just chuckles, one of his large hands splaying over the curve of your hip.
“You sound a little defensive, agent. You wouldn’t be lying to me now, would you?”
The dark edge to his voice has your body tingling and your heart hammering against your ribs.
“N-No.”
He tsks softly, his hands wandering toward the edge of your pencil skirt.
“And to think, I was going to reward you, despite your incessant teasing earlier.”
The feeling of his rough palm on the inside of your thigh breaks your resolve, body melting against him as you whine.
“No, Spence— please.”
He grips the hem of your skirt, slowly hitching it up your thighs.
“You know that’s not my name, angel,” he taunts as his teeth graze over your earlobe.
“Please, Doctor.”
You quickly correct yourself, which earns you a deep groan, “Good girl.”
Spencer wastes no time in tugging your skirt the rest of the way up your legs. His large hand cupping your cunt through the soaked lace of your panties. He presses the heel of his palm against your clit, quickly shushing you as you mewl pathetically in response.
But once his fingers have slipped past the lace and are buried to the hilt inside you, you are unable to hold back your pleasured whimpers. His other hand quickly moves to cover your mouth, but his hushed words only aid in turning you on more.
The thought of one of your colleagues catching you both in this position sends an excited jolt through your body, your walls tightening harder around his dexterous fingers. Spencer groans at the sensation, letting his thumb brush over your swollen clit.
“Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you?” He chuckles, “You want them to hear us?”
You nod your head, grinding your hips back against his to feel his hardened length straining against the fabric of his slacks. Spencer curses under his breath, meeting your half lidded gaze in the reflection before he’s yanking your panties down your thighs.
He removes his hand from your mouth and the clink of his belt sends another rush of heat through you. Spencer eagerly guides your legs apart, before bending you over the sink.
“Then let them,” he mutters as he guides the tip of his cock through your drenched folds, and sinks into your warm heat with a strangled grunt.
A gasp leaves your own as he bottoms out completely, your head lolling forward at the sheer fullness. But your boyfriend doesn’t let that slide for long as his strong hand coaxes your chin up to meet his hazel eyes in the mirror.
“Eyes on me.” Spencer instructs, guiding his hips back and plunging them forward.
His thrusts are fast and sharp, nearly knocking the wind out of you from his urgency. You grip the counter harshly, willing your eyes not to roll in the back of your head as you whimper. Spencer’s lips are back at your ear again, his ever darkening hues never once stray from your own.
“Look how pretty you are, baby… how well you take me,” he groans, gripping your hips tighter.
You’re far too gone to answer him, managing a small whine as you angle your hips back to take him even deeper. His hand drifts lower, over the bunched fabric of your skirt to circle over your clit. Soft mewls continue to spill past your lips as he buries himself inside you, hurtling you faster towards that precipice.
“As if I could ever want anyone else.”
That admission is spoken under his breath and although Spencer didn’t intend for you to hear it, you certainly did. But those words are your undoing, your body trembling in his strong hands as you lose yourself in him. The feeling of your cunt fluttering around him breaks what is left of his composure, spilling into you as you cry out his name.
You both are silent as you come back down to earth, only the sounds of your heavy breathing filling the small space. His hands are gentle as he pulls you further into his chest, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your temple.
“Feeling better?”
You giggle softly, “Much.”
You catch a glimpse of his smirk in the mirror as he slips out of you to tuck himself back into his slacks. The brunette quickly drops to his knees before you have a chance to protest, letting his fingertips glide along your skin. Spencer smiles sheepishly as he guides your panties back up your legs, peppering gentle kisses along your inner thighs.
You can feel his cum beginning to soak into the already damp fabric as he helps you adjust your skirt, pressing one last kiss to your clothed hip before he rises to his feet.
“Think you can manage getting back to your seat without my help?” He teases, clearly noticing the way your legs were still shaking as he helped you re-dress.
“I can manage fine, Doctor Reid.”
You can see the flash in his eyes when you call him by his title again, a wicked smile on your lips when you lean up to press a chaste kiss to his cheek.
You exit the bathroom without another word, getting comfortable in your seat. It’s a few minutes later before Spencer returns to his seat beside you, in an attempt to not raise any suspicion. The seatbelt sign clicks on once he takes his seat, signaling the beginning descent to Quantico.
He pulls a novel out of his satchel as you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling your eyelids starting to droop.
“Pay up, Morgan.”
Emily’s hushed voice cuts through the silence not long after you’d both taken your seats again. You feel Spencer stiffen beside you, his fingers freezing on the open page of his novel.
“Damn, couldn’t keep it in your pants for twenty more minutes, pretty boy?” The male grumbles, getting up to toss a couple twenties in Emily’s direction.
She grins widely, waving them around before tucking them in the pocket of her dress pants.
“So you’re betting on us now?” you ask, unable to hide the exasperation in your voice.
“Oh, we’ve been betting on you the second you both started sneaking around,” Rossi’s voice sounds from behind you, amusement littering his tone.
“You two aren’t subtle.”
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