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#Also I'm tired of people writing him like he's delicate and skin-and-bones
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You've heard of dadbod!Geralt but what about dadbod!Jaskier?
Jaskier bunkers down in some noble's court for the winter because Oxenfurt was just a little too far away to travel to
He enjoys the life: of playing to his hearts content, partaking in someone's bed every night, eating what the greatest masters of the culinary arts have crafted
He's thriving 🤷‍♂️
Without a surly witcher and his mare to walk behind, he starts to gain some weight
It's fine, most people gain weight in the winter, no big deal at all
And then his bedpartners start to notice
At the first mention of his not-so-lithe visage, he shows off, yes there is more of him to love, thank you for noticing
And then it becomes a thing, where people want to touch him because he's nice to cuddle up to
To be fair who wouldn't want to cuddle upto a nice squishy man with a furred chest
So Jaskier takes advantage of his newfound status as the best cuddle buddy in court and has the time of his life
The first time Geralt sees his dadbod he gets a "Hmm." and probing of his belly which leads to some friendly brawling because men are like that
I just want the bard to have some meat on his bones okay
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sanghyukstattoos · 3 years
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SF9's reaction: cockwarming
Genre: fluff-fluff-fluff; smut-smut-smut
Characters: SF9!
A/N: None of the images in the collage are mine, refer to here for more; For more SF9, read here, for iKON, read here and for optional bias writings, read here!
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Youngbin:
Plays in pairs
When you first present the idea to him, given that the circumstances are of a light atmosphere, you'll fluster him, impeccably. His cheeks will turn pink and he'll maybe giggle a little and cover his mouth out of shyness but he won't be averted to the idea. He loves it but you just caught him off guard ahaha. When it's under a serious circumstance, like you are describing what you would like to try out, he would seriously contemplate your idea. He won't seal the deal if he doesn't like it the first time around. He'll try for a second to give it a chance. During your first time trying this out, it'll be spontaneous. Like you are watching a movie or a documentary and you or him decide that you want to give it a try. He'll firmly hold your waist as you settle onto him. If you are horny, you wait for a few minutes before you think, 'Enough of this' and rock him out of this world. What could he say? If you aren't, it'll be peaceful. But there's a dilemma. If you are sitting on the sofa, you can't see the screen. But you want to watch (sad). He'll say, ''It's okay'' and switch off the tv and it will resume in the bedroom. Just a beautiful atmosphere where you have deep conversations. He'll listen to your insight and internally marvel at how your perspective and compliment them with some of his own. It's like turn-taking, an essential part of a relationship where you go back and forth, speaking about one topic to the end of it where you have nothing to say anymore and then you'll move onto the next. It'll go on for ages, till the two of you are hungry. When the two of you go the kitchen to make something, he'll do what he couldn't do when the two of you were cock warming. The same thing may happen when the two of you are about to fall asleep, the lack of lights appeal to his other side, love-making.
Inseong:
This one is a funny bunny
It's a routine for you to cock warm after sex just like when he's on the laptop, surfing the net at the dinner table and you are sat on his cock, back to his chest, keeping him warm. After sex, it's a gateway to another round, on the bed or in the shower or to sleep in that position but not cock warm. He would love cock warming in the morning if it's cold then, probably in your balcony or in the kitchen, hugging you from behind and trailing his hands to your tummy and chest every now and then. He would love when you capture when you capture his lips in a sweet embrace, beginning a long make-out session when he's in you. If he's horny, you can bet that he's going to tell you about it. ''Babe'', he places a delicate kiss on your neck, ''tell me'' you moan out. His hands have already found your tummy and trailed downward, rubbing your clit but not to just merely stimulate you, to see if you are wet as he imagines you to be. He loves you. He's going to make love to you, to see those expressions on your face and feel you around him, holding you in his arms till the two of you have exhausted yourselves out which could one round or more than one. I can imagine you and him in the kitchen, he's got you pressed against the counter and that's how the cock warming while horny scene may play out. Another one is when abroad, maybe in a hotel or airbnb, he'll have you in his arms but that's not how it starts. He'll be playful about it, surprising you with a hug from behind, kissing the spot near to your ear, whispering some *interesting* innuendo into your ear, it makes you laugh anyway. A couple of seconds later, he's turning you around, kissing your tummy and inner thighs all the way till he's on his knees, he'll make sure to nuzzle his nose against your panties and lick a stripe at the material, slowly pulling them down. Arousal buzzes through you because he's telling you, ''fuck, baby you taste so good, stay still for me'' or something like that, it's a little muffled because he is preoccupied in drawing you to pleasure and pleasure and then release. He'll eat you out multiple times or till your knees buckle, depending on whether you had sex previously and then just maybe, in a moment driven by passion, he'll carry you to the sofa and that's where you'll cock warm, giggling to one another of what just happened, what you want to do afterwards. Wrap your legs around his waist, press him against the sofa and lift your hips again, he'll start the process again, all while laughing. It's just light-hearted.
Jaeyoon:
Absolute sweetheart/ dream husband
In this scenario, let's say that he is your husband. When you suggest cock warming, he's a little uncertain (by his little frown) but also inquisitive (by his questions), *Frowning* ''What is it about?'' would be the situation, he would look very cute when he asks. Presumably the two of you would be cuddling and you happened to stumble onto this conversation, he would not be shy, just like, 'You have an idea, let's hear it then!', also like an explorer, he's willing to try new things even if it means pushing his boundaries a little bit. But, this does not fall into that category of pushing boundaries. Maybe pushing his patience if he's horny. The latter scenario is guaranteed to occur at multiple points of time. You'll be lying on your side with his cock in your ass, it's a little jerk that alerts you or his hands that begin to wander everywhere like kissing your neck, then your lips and his hands have already begin to stimulate your clitoris. You moan into the kiss and then he knows and he smiles into the kiss while rocking his hips against yours. Everything is forgotten in the background. Unless it's life-threatening. Like food can burn or you could watch three episodes on netflix that you aren't truly watching, he's not stopping till the both of you are tired to the bone and have released multiple times. Quite the sweetheart though, he'll get up and shake himself if he's about to fall asleep the next minute and he'll grab a cloth for you like you protest but he says as he's already getting up, ''no, stay there, I've got it!''. You smile and slump and he cleans you, tosses it away and then climbs on top of you, pulling you into his arms. If he can, he'll try the idea of cock warming and spoon you throughout the night but if he can not, he'll definitely do it the next day. He's committed to the plans he makes or what's going on at that moment. Let's say you have an argument, you are trying to smooth things out, ruffle out misunderstandings and you won't talk it out with sex but communicate to him about it. The night will end in cock warming, to bring you closer and then it's all jokes from there, especially about the argument, it's either you teasing him or the other way around and that's how you fall asleep: content.
Dawon I Lee Sanghyuk:
He has his days.
On a day when he's tired, to the bone maybe, he's come back from work and you want to cuddle, using the idea of cock warming to propose the intimacy you want to feel during the night that you couldn't during the day, I'm sure that he'll do it for you. If he does not fall asleep immediately, he'll caress your backside, admiring the way the flesh conforms to his grasp. He loves all of you. He will pepper kisses along your neck, down your collarbone and to your breasts, sucking your erect buds but he won't touch your centre. He likes to go slow, never stopping these moments with you or he'll take you in the morning. At times like these, he loves when you touch him, just your touch on his skin, turning heated. When you are making out, it would be your tug on his hair, like urgency for more or roaming your hands all over him or tracing his hair from his navel to the band of his underwear would be his favourite save for the best of all, when you direct how everything goes. If he does fall asleep immediately, it'll be after he kisses you. During this time, regardless of whether you were cock warming or not, he would love for you to tangle your fingers in his hair, it lulls him to sleep and even to sleep in your chest, being the small spoon, he would absolutely love it. He has trouble sleeping alone but when he's with you, it's not the case. When he stretches you out after days of not having sex, he tries to hold himself back from releasing, the wait and foreplay was enough to spiral his mind, gasping in your ear. But if you are too tired, he'll take it into consideration, seriously and hold back from lifting his hips off yours and filling you up. When he cock warms just to end the day comfortably, it will turn it into sex if the two of you contain some semblance of energy and are away from that playful and teasing mood, with hours on end before you sleep. It will be just the feeling of his cock filling you up, holding you to the bed with your legs wrapped around his waist, whispering how much he loves and that you are doing well, growling and stilling, your release triggering his, holding you when you are tired or in between rounds decorates the night. He holds your hand when you have sex, always, if your hands aren't roaming his body, feeling it. Otherwise, he'll hold you, preferably with all of your clothes off, no material between the two of you, you two speak about your day, the present and the future. It could even be a tickle session that ensues. The atmosphere will be lively, especially with his jokes and teasing and all the loves he has to offer.
Rowoon I Kim Seokwoo:
Prince of visuals, no?
Since he has such visuals, let's imagine that he takes you on a yacht (ya-ch-ht; hard time spelling that folks 🥵 + why do people go on a yacht? I'm struggling to think of a reason?). Seokwoo's marvelling over your amazement at the beauty of the ocean, the clear blue waters and occasional shade of the fish passing by. He even jokes that he hopes ''no shark gets the two of you'' and then laughs at your expression. Please, he's trying, don't throw him overboard :/. You enjoy the heat some more before he's by your side again, the yacht is paused, it gives you ideas. As soon as he's sat by your side, you take to straddle him, therefore effectively cutting him off. The surprise is evident on his face but his hands are resting on your backside, getting comfortable there. He groans out when your lips touch his neck, nipping the flesh to give him love bites which earns those husky groans of his. They send vibrations down your spine, tingling your core with wetness. With such a beautiful scenery surrounding the two of you, it's easy to fix your eyes on two places and think about how beautiful either are. He intimately hugs you, sucking an area on your breast, removing it from your top and placing the perk bud into his mouth, the act itself is hot and you grind down on him, not holding back your moans because of the silence of the ocean, save for the splashing of waves. You ride him, letting out sweet fucking moans, whimpering in his ears for him that it's so good, you can't get enough. When you are all sweaty, you cock warm in the shade, making out. It's a very soft moment, like sealing the deal? He wants to make you happy and he'll do stuff for you to achieve it. Cock warming is bonding for the two of you, to spoon and gossip about the other rich couples that you saw or speak about your day or just lay there, in each other's arms, enjoying the moment. When it's cooler, he would be okay to cock warming in a public space such as underneath a tree on a beach. You may be a bit far from the sea but you can smell it which makes you happy. It's a very calming day when you are tucked in his arm, leaning on his chest with his cock buried deep inside of you, feeling a little chilly but you are covered by a blanket. All in all, it's private for the two of you.
Zuho I Baek Juho
Cat man 🦸‍♂️
He would love to cock warm indoors, when his cats are sleeping, safely tucked in their beds as you are in each other's arms. It'll be quiet, you can only hear what's outside, maybe the train passing by or vehicles or pure silence which is hard to come but not impossible. If something's disturbing you like traffic, heavy honking, he's not for it and he'll move you two to somewhere else like the bed or on his studio chair. If you are tired and want to cock warm while he is producing, he'll hold you close to him and ignore the cramp in his legs. When he sees you sleep, he'll go soft and admire your prettiness, not forgetting to wrap a blanket around you. When it's silent, a relaxing atmosphere in which you can fall asleep easily, it's where cock warming will occur the most. An example could be in a space by the windows in a high-rise building or if the place was in a non-busy area like the countryside. There are occasional noises, some make you perk up while other's make you laugh, all while intimately spooning with him. You tell him: it's an indescribable feeling but you will try explaining. Don't be scared, he'll love your words. Relating cock warming to something and being subtle instead of explaining outright would prompt his chest to blossom with love from you, it's the feeling you've brought out from him and to in expressing his feelings, he may cry a little and kiss you like 'Can you feel this love I feel for you? I love you'- is what he is trying to say through the kiss. It's a very wholesome moment, your confessions to each other, spoken beautifully. He would also love to cock warm bare, without any clothes so that the two of you can be purely intimate and he loves your body. If you don't or lack appreciation for your fine self, he'll initiate cock warming if you aren't already and kiss your body and squeeze the parts he can't reach like his appreciation for your butt/ breasts/ stomach or whichever one it is that you are conscious of/ don't love as much as possible. And the opposite too! If he's not feeling okay or feels conscious of himself (pressure from people telling him how artists should look?), cock warming would be a way for you two speak about it whilst loving one another at the same time.
Yoo Taeyang:
What a precious guy
May be confused about the concept at first, even awkward the first time you attempt this, it takes him a little while to get used to this scenario: laying on the bed in each other's arms after carefully navigating your limbs around, his cock in you, completely. But he warms up, he'll make sure that you are comfortable and will also love to take this concept elsewhere, like the living room when you watch tv. When he's tired, he may not be able to carry it out simply because he has no energy or he may be horny (head) but not (body), it happens~ When that happens, he wakes you up with kisses, all over your body and he'd do this, regardless of what happened the previous night, it's automatic for him. Another scenario would be when he is bored, laying around doing nothing and fumbling for something to do, he'd initiate cock warming, that little sigh when he slips into you, relief. From there, he may definitely not hold himself back, the two of you would end up having sex. If it's you and he's doing something and you want to sit on his cock, he'll set down what he is doing and let you. As you hold onto him, he'll notice your whimpers, softly decorating his ear, letting him know how much you want him. He'll tease you till you are hiding away in the crook of his neck or playfully hitting him but he'll satisfy your desires all night. It's for you. However, when he does want to cock warm, he'll snuggle into you, nestling his head over yours. Little touches, lingering over your waist will be presented to you, as well as his admiration for your body. He'll cock warm in your sex or ass. When it's in your ass, he'll take his time admiring your ass, your breasts, any place he can place a kiss on really but he's not really kissing, he's looking and telling you how much he loves you.
Hwiyoung I Kim Youngkyun:
Resident cutie
He's got you in the palm of his hand especially because of that cute face, cute expressions, cute mannerisms, overall a very lovable guy. Can be awkward sometimes but it's okay because his loving personality makes up for it. Is also a shy little bean at first which makes you want to shower him with lots of love and praise. Glady accepts your kisses and hugs, gets shy when you first do them but eventually reciprocates them. To the point where it's comfort, safety and that you can be vulnerable with each other. *This is quickly turning into a boyfriend! Hwiyoung*. It's something that he suggests, the idea of cock warming. Really your jaw should drop when you hear it from your boyfriend. After a sex session, when the both of you are all sweaty and won't go for another round, he wouldn't mind if you were on your knees, keeping his cock warm with your mouth. He could be leaning back on the seat, going through his favourite sites while you sit in between his legs, ignoring the ache in your thighs. He would have you cock warming naked, bare for him and only him to see while he himself is fully clothed. That session could have potentially included bdsm, in a separate room that you have specially for it and this time, you could have been flogged, denied your release or being used, whatever your fantasies may be. It could also be the opposite way where you are the dom. In that case, it would be a command or a form of bonding where he will be punished if he moves when he is in your sex or you cuddle and speak to one another about the session, respectively. If bdsm is not included, then he would love to cock warm! To him, he gets to be with you and speak to you- whatever it may be about. For example, it could be deep, philosophical conversations or you both cuddle and sleep. Either way, he likes spending time with you especially in such a quality manner.
Chani:
*insert a gulp and a surprised face*
Remember that SF9 was discussing about mature concepts as a part of planning for their Kingdom stages and the editors used a fish filter to emphasise Chani's round eyes or rather, his innocence. ''HUh!??!'' is his brain, whirring away like an air conditioner at an office, rolling round and round when you propose this concept. He goes blank and you just sit back, waiting patiently. It has come to this moment. But his smile grows and it keeps on growing till he's unexpectedly pulling you onto his lap and connecting your lips. He knows that you should discuss it first but first, he wants to have you as close as possible when you discuss this. At first, he's peppering kisses on your face with you giggling, telling him that you want to continue and then he says, ''one moment baby'' before he swoops in for your lips. You reciprocate the passion, the moment is neither heated nor too soft, just in between and you have a make-out session for a couple of minutes. He doesn't know why, it's random but the both of you are loving it, like an initiation ceremony into a new stage of your relationship. And here were all along, navigating blind (👀🚫). It's planned with enough space for creativity. You are on the bed and you squeeze his shoulders when he presses at your entrance and fills you up. You wait to adjust to him. At first he's like, ''This it?'' and you have to laugh at that, quite true that you also though the same thing. Soon he's kissing you all over, sucking your nipple and the area around it, turning it a shade darker: he's teasing you, taking his time till he's done cock warming. He tells you that he would love to try out cock warming in your ass sometime and then it's all giggles from there. You ask, ''did you search-'', cut off by his fingers that circle your clit and press, drawing a gasp or a hitch of the breath from you. Then he starts to rock his hips and you know that cock warming is over, at least for now. He's hovering on top of you and losing control over his thrusts and spilling into you later on. A common scenario would be when he's playing games and you are sitting on his cock, maybe sleeping or doing something else, unbeknownst to his friends that he's speaking with on his headset.
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soyforramen · 3 years
Note
If I'm not too late, for the writing prompts: 9 and/or 47, dealer's choice
·  “Just tell why you did it!” “Because I’m in love with you, okay!”
·  You’re my ex but I think I still have feelings for you
Angst below, in an AU timeline...ish
 --
             It felt like a fire had lit up her lungs, the smoke crawling up her throat and choking her until her breath rasped out into the cold night air.  Behind her, Jughead stumbled, his breathing coming like tidal waves.  Betty spared a quick glance at him as she yanked at his arm and pointed to the ridge beyond.  
             “Just over there,” she lied.  
             It was becoming easier and easier to lie to him.
             On their way up the ridge her feet slipped in the muddy wet leaves.  Her knees hit the ground and her teeth rattled hard enough to see stars.  Jughead slipped an arm around her waist and dragged her up the rest of the hill, his breath erratic.
             It was another ten minutes until they finally reached Archie’s car, the only one in the Sweetwater parking lot.  Not many people went hiking at 4 a.m., let alone to go chase down a kidnapped ex.
             Thunder rolled above them, the vibrations lingering deep in her bones, and they leaned around the car.  Jughead’s hand were on his knees, his breath gasping and desperate. His wiped at the water trickling down his face and coughed hard.  Betty kneeled on the ground, hands grasping at the loose asphalt as she forced herself to focus on counting rather than what she’d encountered tonight.
             “What the hell was that for?” Jughead wheezed.
             Betty shook her head, still unable to talk through her sore throat.  She let out a slow breath – 1, 2, 3, 4 – and breathed in again.
             “Why’d you try and save me?” he yelled over the thunder.  A crack of lightening illuminated them and she was startled by the intensity in his eyes.
             “Did you want me to leave you back in there?” she shot back.  Stars colored her eyes as she tried to stand, and she listed to one side, grasping for the car to keep her balance.
             Jughead snarled and paced towards the far end of the parking lot, ignoring the pouring rain around them.  From his limp, Betty assumed he had a Charlie Horse.  Betty wanted to chide him about not taking care of his body, about his inability to treat it as something better than a dumpster for all his repressed feelings.  It wasn’t her place, though.  Not anymore.
             Besides, it seemed cruel to point out, especially after he’d been on the verge of being tortured –
             “I don’t need your help,” he said when he returned, his words still punctured by small gasps.  “I had everything covered.”
             She snorted and stood up to face him.  A chill ran through her as the wind picked up, but she diverted the movement into massaging at her damaged wrist.  Jughead, still as perceptive as ever, didn’t miss her wince. He reached towards her, his eyes fixed on her wrist.  Realizing what he was about to do, he stopped short and bent over to retie his shoe.  
             Even from this angle Betty could see how thin he was.
             “I’m sure you did,” she said.  Even as the adrenaline seeped out of her body she still couldn’t keep the acid from her voice.  “That great, big escape plan of yours was going swell, though I’m curious as to what you were planning after you got chained up in the basement and held to the wall with duct tape.  Or did I miss something when I broke in?”
             Half her words were covered up by an angry burst of thunder.  Perhaps it was for the best; they’d both been through a lot.  Or, perhaps it would have been better to put it all out there, fight out their anger until there was nothing left remaining.
             Jughead’s lip curled, and Betty knew he’d caught enough.
             Betty narrowed her eyes.  Despite everything, she still didn’t know whether to trust him. There had been too much time between them, too much space and anger and -  Not to mention his aliens and her serial killer.
             “You can’t drive stick with a broken wrist.”
             “It’s not broken,” she said petulantly, her lip pursed like Juniper’s when she didn’t get the last cookie.
             Knowing that he was right, she dug into her coat pocket, angry with Jughead and herself.  Another gust of wind blew through their wet cloths, and they huddled into the cab of the truck.  As the engine turned over, Jughead scrubbed at the window with his damp shirtsleeves, trying to break through the fog that had followed them.  The water streaked across, unable to change, and he gave up on the idea.  With a grunt, he shifted into drive and turned towards town.
             “Stupid,” he muttered, and Betty side-eyed him.  
             Her first instinct was that he was talking about her, and she bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep from snapping.  After everything she’d done tonight, and he still couldn’t think anyone could care for him.  Betty stared out of the window, her fingers pushing and prodding against the delicate skin on her wrist, revealing in the sharp jolts of pain and irritation. Eventually the pain cleared through her fog of anger and she realized he was likely talking to himself.
             “Just –“
             Jughead stopped, cursing under his breath.  They came to a blind curve, halfway under water, and he shifted to first gear.  As they crept along Betty’s eyes began to shut.  She could feel her muscles relaxing as the adrenaline wore off, and the only thing that kept her awake was the potholes in the road.  In the flashes of lightening above them, she could see Jughead’s jaw clenching as he worked to keep something in check.
             Fine, she thought idly as darkness consumed her. Let him be mad.  It wouldn’t be the first time he didn’t want to be near her.
             She was startled awake when the engine stopped. In front of them was the Andrews’ home, normally bright and cheery, but in this light it was eerily still in the pouring rain.
             “He’s not home tonight,” Jughead said flatly.  “You can stay in his room.  Unless you want to go home.”
             Betty shook her head, trying not to let her fear overtake her.  The house was empty and would be for the next week.  They still hadn’t heard anything about Polly, and Alice had taken the twins upstate to try and get their mind off of it.  After tonight (any night, every night, ever since – she cut off that particular voice, struggling to keep that terrible week out of her head), the last thing she wanted to do was to be alone.  
             The thought sent a shudder through her and she wrapped her arms around herself to try and keep the chill from sprinting down her back.
             Jughead nodded, still staring straight ahead.  He’d pulled the keys from the ignition and was now jangling them in his hand.  He opened the car door and stepped out into the rain, not seeming to care whether Betty followed him or not.  She scrambled out of the car, towards the front door and slipped in after him.
             She held her breath, waiting in the long stretch of dark, for the lights to turn on.   When they did, it was nothing more than Archie’s living room, still messy and smelling slightly of old clothing and pizza.  
             Jughead stalked towards the kitchen, his face set in an emotion she couldn’t discern anymore.  A gut feeling told her it was because she was a stranger here, one who was encroaching not only on his ‘investigation’ but also on his personal space.  
             “I’ll make coffee,” Jughead said gruffly.  “Take a shower or you’ll catch a cold.”
             The way he’d said it, matter-of-factly and without any emotion behind it, contrasted so sharply with the fact that he’d remembered. He remembered, and wanted to let her know he’d remembered that she was prone to get colds when it rained. These little things twisted the knife deeper into her back and she tried not to think about her last foray into this home.
             “Thanks,” Betty said softly.
             She barely glanced at the mirror when she stepped into the bathroom.  A thick cover of mud coated her lower half, while leaves had taken up residence in her hair.  Her wrist, still throbbing and sore, was a swollen bright red.  As bad as she might have looked, Betty revealed in the metaphorical duality of it all.  Long ago, she might have said she was a good person, untouched by the corruption of life. Now, though, she felt as dirty and broken as she  looked.
             Pity about the boots though.  Real suede apparently didn’t mix well with the more wild side of life.  Betty didn’t dare think about what it would cost to buy Veronica a new pair.
             The pipes groaned as the water warmed up.  Peeling off her clothes was a chore, the damp, clinging clothes didn’t want to cooperate.  The wet slap of them on the floor was a loud echo as she stepped into the shower.  
             The warm water was practically sinful after tonight. She let it cascade down her skin and shut her eyes to the world around her.  Every inch of her body felt sore and bruised.  She dreaded even thinking about how she’d feel tomorrow.
             A draft of cold air sent goosebumps along her skin and Betty stilled.  She trusted Jughead, of course, and yet…
             The door shut again, and she peered around the curtain to find a set of clothing on the counter.  Her heart stopped when she recognized a grey S from so long ago.  Reluctant to let it out of her sight, Betty pulled the shower curtain to.   He’d always had a bad habit of forming sentimental attachments to things, to items that had no right to such kindness.
             But to have kept that shirt all these years?  To have kept her shirt?  Surely not.  Surely her eyes, tired and sore from lack of sleep, had deceived her.
             The ghost of her guilt churned again, deeper this time. A sharp pain went through her stomach – of guilt?  regret? hope?
             Betty picked up the bar of soap in her uninjured hand and scrubbed at her skin, hot tears running cold against her cheeks.  Careless.  She was always so careless with everything worth while.  Archie’s hands ghosted across her skin, his lips, his whispers they both knew were lies.  She was only looking for an escape, not another well to get trapped in.  This time, though, she couldn’t think of a single way to escape.
             A sob broke from her lips, and then another, and another.  She shoved her fist against her mouth and curled up at the bottom of the tub.   It was all she could do to keep from breaking up.  A part of her, the one that saw reason, was surprised it hadn’t happened earlier tonight when she’d seen Jughead half-conscious with a red welt on his forehead.  His head lolled absently against a support beam.  His hands tightly bound with duct tape.  Tight enough they were turning purple.  Those stupid glasses lay at his feet only to reflect the beam of her flashlight onto the chains that bound him.
             Images, real and imagined, flashed before her eyes. The well.  TBK laughing above her.  Polly, bound and gagged in the back of a cab.  The twins, facedown in Sweetwater. Squeeky Fromme’s dead eyes staring up at the night sky, milky and flat.  Jughead’s hands –
             Betty shook her head, trying to shake the images away. No, that hadn’t happened, she chanted internally.  It’s not real.  
             Not this time.  
             Long after the water had run cold, Betty finally came back to herself.  Her movements were slow and forced; her head felt uselessly full of cotton.  With a groan, she stood up and gasped as pins and needles threw her back to the ground.  Unable to do anything, Betty turned off the water, gritting her teeth as she waited for the feeling to come back into her legs.  
             Into her life, even.
             Now, with only the steady drip of a leaky faucet to keep her company, Betty heard just how quiet it was in the house.  The wind blew outside, stronger than ever, but it seemed as if the house itself had gone into hibernation.  Jughead had likely gone to bed, she realized.  Or maybe he’d been smart enough to know he should see a doctor after all.
             Perhaps that would be best.  Then they could both pretend tonight had never happened and go back to the chilly detente they’d found themselves living in.  
             With an anticipatory wince, Betty hauled herself up and out of the tub.  As she reached for the towel, she realized that the shirt loudly proclaimed ‘El Royale Gym’ in bright red letters.  She scowled at the dancing rooster, ordering it to be something other than it was. Clearly, though, she’d been wrong.
             Roughly, she pulled the shirt over her head, her damp hair catching at the collar, and stepped into the gym shorts.  Why she put herself through this, why she tortured herself with something so impossible –
             “Coffee’s on the counter,” Jughead said when she stepped out.  His fingers flew over the keyboard, his eyes never leaving the screen.
             At least some things never changed, she supposed. Even that, though, rang hollow after what they’d been through tonight.  
             Betty wrapped her hands around the mug, grateful for something to occupy herself with.  She sipped at it a moment, giving him the chance to say something.  Do something.  When he didn’t, she didn’t know whether she felt relief, or disappointment.
             It wasn’t until she reached the stairs that he finally spoke.
             “Just tell me why you did it,” he said.  
She hesitated, knowing that this was her own personal Maginot line. Crossing this would mean the end of one life, and the beginning of another strange reality, one where she would have no control.
“Why did you come after me?  Why didn’t you call Sheriff Keller, or Archie, or –“
“Because I’m still in love with you,” Betty said.  Her voice was no more than a soft sigh, but it was enough to bring about a sudden calmness.
The calm before the storm, she thought morbidly.  Whatever would happen now, whatever was said…
She waited, counting to a hundred.  When he didn’t say anything, she set the coffee down on a side table and went to Archie’s room, shutting the door softly behind her.
(Part 2 here)
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yournameyn · 3 years
Text
Feeling Deeply
Genre: Fluff so much fluff. Arranged Marriage fic.
Pairing: Namjoon x OC
A/N: Aaaaaa this is the first fic I'm posting ever ever. It's basically a way to follow the red thread of my desires. OC is named Brishti. She's Indian. She's Bengali & curvy & an introvert. This whole fic is 90% going to be a slow burn fluff fic about two introvert nerds getting to know each other. Seriously there's like hardly any real angst, maybe slight angst about okay when are these two going to bang - if you look very carefully but basically its just slooooow fluuuufff. Hopefully you all like it. Please let me know what you think. Current Chapter: This one is loooong. Remember this is all happening in the 1960s. OC & Namjoon are both really well off first gen immigrants. In this chapter we have our couple coming closer together - talking about some issues they've both had in their lives. Also this is the chapter where you'll get to know one of my favourite Namjoon songs and like why the OC is named what she's named. Also just a reminder because im a bit paranoid - Rim Jhim (referred to as Rim) is our OC Brishti. Its a pet name that's introduced in this chapter. And Namjoon being the wordsmith that he is makes it shorter, with the korean meaning of the word.
Previously in Feeling Deeply: Preface-ish Chapter 1
Chapter 2
And so it went for the next few days, the two of them quietly discovering each other. They were finding out the normal, casual, small things - how he didn’t like mint chocolate, how she loved bitter black coffee. Since both of them worked, they decided to split the chores at home. It worked out great because Namjoon liked to sweep & Brishti loved to do the dishes. They both struggled to cook but they decided to learn how to cook each other’s cuisines. So she was learning how to make kimchi (the green onion one) & he was learning how to prepare daal (the yellow one). They split the rent & decided to create a separate bank account for their savings. Talking about money increased warmth because they discovered that neither valued it excessively.
Slowly, they began talking about things a little more intimate. Meanings of names were revealed. She was impressed that his name meant genius. And he loved that hers meant rain. Pet names were introduced. He called her Rim - an even shorter version of her daak naam Rim Jhim. He told her to call him Joon. She looked away, smiling, then - silently telling him they’re not there yet. What he didn’t tell her was that he was already making up a fairytale about Joon, the genius & Rim, the brilliant jade that makes him so.
They spoke about books the most. Between them, they had half the globe's literature covered. She had read Indian authors & Russian & Spanish ones. He loved Korean authors, Japanese literature & all the Greek Classics. He geeked out about philosophy & poetry while she nerded over nature writing & music. They spoke about how they might take a look at other European writers & musicians together. To that end, Namjoon brought home a book of love poems by Rilke.
He hadn’t told her that he wrote poetry too. He hadn’t mentioned anything because it seemed like an indulgence of the past, poetry. But that night everything changed. After a late dinner, Brishti had asked to read aloud from the book he’d brought. As she read ‘To Music’, Namjoon saw tears float in her eyes. Secretly, something inside him had wept too. And just like that, he knew he would begin writing soon.
Each week the two watched late shows of classic hollywood musicals in a nearby theatre because they’d decided against a tv in their home - opting, instead, for a record player. Meeting for a movie each of the two Fridays they’d spent together so far was an experience both looked forward to - not only for the movie. In the darkness of the movie theatre, they experienced the first glimpses of intimacy. Soft smiles, whispering, silent glances, hands caressing each other. He loved how she laughed with abandon. She loved that he would tear up during the emotional scenes.
Her smile was getting wider, warmer toward him, Namjoon noted everyday. He’d been sleeping separately since their wedding night because he wanted her to feel safe. He was mostly okay with that except if he thought about it… If he thought about a time when he would get to touch her - Namjoon almost felt dizzy with feelings.
This happened the most when he saw her read by the window, he ached to touch her. That was her - Brishti - that was who she was at her core. Reading, running her fingers through her short hair, staring out the window, thinking, looking at clouds & then going back to reading. She was still quiet, but less so. She spoke about the rain and the trees and when she was happiest, he learned, when she really trusted that no one was going to judge her, she spoke about the moon. It had happened twice in the last few days.
He couldn’t stop looking at her. As though that needed reasoning, he thought about it at the office too. It wasn’t the only answer he could come up with but Namjoon had never seen a body like hers. She didn’t seem brittle or delicate, the way most women looked - or were “supposed to look”. She didn’t care what a body is supposed to look like, at least, it seemed that way to him. Brishti’s curves were not subtle. She was short and while almost everyone was shorter than him, Brishti was just… sexily so. She’d do these things… seemingly normal, everyday things but they would quickly, embarrassingly, inspire an arousal in him. Like, that thing she did, when she stretched after waking up or even if she stretched her arms or her neck… for some reason that turned him on so much, he’d have to hide… or excuse himself. His breath hitched, everytime he thought about how he hadn’t still actually seen her body.
Brishti, too, enjoyed looking at him from afar. Sharing, creating a living space with a man was never something she thought she would enjoy. They had exchanged the basic stories of how they had reached each other.
Namjoon had said, “I’d met a couple of women… girls… but they just seemed either plastic or porcelain… you know? I mean, not all of them could have been that but that's how they… presented themselves? You… I saw your photos in a pile that the matchmaker labelled ‘rubbish’”
“What?!”
“Yeah… I’m sorry but it’s actually a compliment to be labelled ‘bad’ by a matchmaker. That’s why I was looking in that pile in the first place… when I heard you wanted to keep working… Honestly I was so relieved...”
She smiled, “At least you got a look at me… I didn’t even know what you looked like till we met. I had no choice at all. A boy had agreed to marry me - despite… me… so that was the end of it. That was the bargain with my brother… otherwise I wouldn’t have been allowed to work either.”
“Wow… I’m so sorry, Rim. That’s really… really unfair.”
“Hmm yeah… I just figured if I can keep earning & the man turns out to be wrong, at least I can leave.”
“That’s… thanks for not leaving...”
Brishti smiled, “I got lucky...”
Namjoon understood, then, that Brishti might be an introvert but that did not mean she was shy. She made him blush & laugh. She made him speak without inhibition. The more time he spent with her, his feelings poured out.
“Thanks… It’s been really nice to share this home with you. Just to have you to talk to… My life was not going that great...” he said.
Brishti nodded, even though she already knew this. Whatever he said, strangely, she could see a deeper melancholy behind it. They spoke about being strangers in a strange country. She told him how she had to fight at the library for Tagore to be considered classic literature. How she was slowly but surely, being accepted in the oddball group that ran the library. She was not the only non-english person there, so things were easier for her. Besides, true readers had always been more accepting of the different.
Something made her regret sharing her happiness about this because his struggle in this foreign land was far more intense… she could sense pain behind the words he used. Namjoon did not enjoy his job the way she did. He worked overtime most days and came home bone-tired. Kim Namjoon was in many ratraces at the same time - races Brishti felt he didn’t want to participate at all. Being a lawyer, being an asian - the ‘model minority’, being a slightly well-off Korean in a sea of white men, in a sea of less fortunate asians who were being treated much worse than him. Trying to create a name, an identity of his own was wearing him out... chipping away at his soul.
Brishti sometimes saw him and saw a great banyan cutting itself down, trying to be a shrub just to fit in. When she asked him how his day was, he always smiled. It was real, the smile and yet it couldn’t hide the sadness in his eyes. Something that was beginning to bother Brishti more and more, these days. He... had begun to matter more and more these days.
Now, about two weeks into their marriage, she was experiencing butterflies about the smallest things; Things like watching him sleep on the fold out, bringing him coffee in the morning. She felt a pull deep inside her take over when he would come out of the shower in the bathrobe, skin glistening from the shower & musky man-scents launching her body in a fantastical arousal & her mind in overdrive. Somedays, Brishti even went for a shower after he’d been, just so she could soak in his essence & bathe in a trance she had never felt before.
On their third weekend together, Namjoon didn’t have to go to work the whole weekend. He’d spoken to his superior at the firm to let him have weekends free - after all, he was married now. Post lunch that Saturday, Brishti and he kept unpacking, organising while talking (well, later on, it was just coffee & talking) into the early hours of Sunday. They spoke about things they loved, people they had loved. About fictional crushes and real ones. Both of them spoke about their past relationships. Something Brishti was delighted about - especially since Namjoon told her he was not the type to hold someone’s past against them.
Brishti couldn’t believe it when Namjoon had correctly guessed, “It was the photographer, right?”
“What-?! How- Where- How did you…?” Brishti couldn’t even form a question.
“Your photos, at the matchmakers… something was different. All the other pictures women give out for arranged matches seem... fake. Yours were… real… private. You looked comfortable… looked like you were being teased...” What he didn’t say was how much it seemed in those pictures like she was with someone she truly liked… maybe even loved.
Sat on the ground opposite Namjoon, Brishti kept her gaze on him. It unnerved Namjoon that she could really see him. She unnerved him further when she said, “You should say what you aren’t saying… or… asking?”
“Did you love him?”
“Not really… it was just... a different kind of friendship… ended almost as soon as it began. But I- I don’t regret it. It wasn’t the kind of love-” she trailed off. She looked away, smiling but trying to hide it. The same way she had in the photograph.
He pressed further just to tease her “Kind of love...?” Namjoon was intrigued because she was blushing now & he wanted to plant a thousand pecks on her. Instead he said, “So you can just… stop what you were saying? Mmm. Okay. I see.”
She looked at him then, “I’m feeling… a lot… of… different things these days. Especially because of a couple of dimples...”
Just like that, she turned the tables & his dimples appeared. He blushed, “Yeah… same. I mean… you don’t have dimples but I’ve-”
She nodded to let him know she understood. And then asked, “Uhm... Have you… had sex?”
Namjoon bit his lip, “Yeah… yes. I... had a girlfriend in law school. It… uh… wasn’t serious… for her.”
Brishti looked away nodding, as if stopping herself from saying something.
He looked at her… knowing what she probably wanted to say. He wanted to hug her but he only said, “It doesn’t matter, does it? For me it doesn’t. Doesn’t matter if you’ve had sex too… I know how people can be about virginity… I- honestly… it's just another way to control people.”
She looked at him with a mixture of emotions. She took a minute to compose herself & then said, “I’ve never met a man like you… and it's a little confusing and annoying… Not that you are annoying… not at all. It’s just the world is annoying because this is how low the standard is for a man. A man accepting that the woman has a past makes him… forward…? But of course the woman has to… because, well, he’s a man and he has needs. We’re all told that… Shirley... who works with me… she knows it too. Women just aren’t supposed to talk about their pasts. All women.”
She paused & got flustered further because of how dedicatedly Namjoon had been listening. It really seemed as if he was taking notes. The serious expression on his face, it made Brishti's ears feel hot. Almost as a distraction, she went on -
“It's crazy but that seems to be the only thing THE WHOLE WORLD has agreed on - they can’t agree on one way to make bread but they all agreed that women are inferior. It’s such a basic thing to just let me work… because I want to… but it's annoying that it makes me feel lucky. My best friend had to go through hell because she thought she could trust her husband with the truth about her past… so it makes me feel lucky that… you won’t…”
Namjoon could see the pain in her words. Maybe that’s how she could always sense the pain in his words, he thought.
After a calming silence passed over them, he spoke - “I won’t. I don’t really know what it’s like for a woman. And… maybe you won’t like to hear this, but… I was the same, Rim... I was the man my society had trained me to be. Everything changed when I came here. When, for the first time in my life, I understood what it’s like to be treated inferior. Since then, I just… I cannot be the cause of a feeling like that within anyone... So… you’re right. I’m not doing anything everyone shouldn’t already do. All of this should be normal. Expected. Hopefully the world learns a bit faster…”
Brishti smiled at Namjoon. She chuckled when tears pooled up in her eyes. He instinctively reached out for her & placed a hand on her leg, just below her knee. A jolt went through Brishti and she looked surprised. He did too. Namjoon retracted his hand immediately & looked away, blushing. That’s when Brishti laughed out loud. She stood up. And asked him to stand up, silently.
He did. It always made Brishti’s heart flutter just how gorgeous and tall he was. Someday, she would tell him. Someday, she would show him. For now, she couldn’t help feeling bashful as she asked, “Can I get a hug, Joon?”
This was the first time she’d used the pet name that he’d asked her to call him by. This was what his family called him. And her using this name assured Namjoon of just that - she was becoming family. Her question had made his heart flip. He moved without really thinking, because this is what his body had wanted since the day he saw her. He pulled her up in his arms. He felt like he was melting. She was soft. Warm. Beautiful. And in his arms.
Brishti gasped a little when Namjoon had scooped her up in his arms. She was on her toes, literally & figuratively. She held onto him, less as a hug & more as support… at first. Then, she felt his arms… the strong arms that she had been ogling at, around her. It was as if a knot came undone, within her, suddenly. And in its place, the softest silk suddenly flowed through her body.
She closed her eyes and breathed him in. The same essence that she’d been soaking in after he had showered, that she had been breathing in whenever he would pass by or reach past her. The essence that she had now become so hungry for that she had been secretly sleeping with the shirt he’d worn from the laundry basket. That essence was now all over her. Her chin turned up, resting on his shoulders, her cheeks touching his, her hands - on their own - reached the nape of his neck and began to play with his hair.
When she did that, Namjoon held her tighter, pressed her on to him. He felt her body react to his. One hand reaching her shoulder around her back, he moved the other closer to her waist, so his hands could fold over her curves. He could feel her breath hitch when he did that.
Brishti was revelling in the feeling of his hands, his fingers, feeling his fingertips press into her - that was a feeling she could never have imagined making her so... so... drunk. She was drunk. She ran her hands up and down his vast back, all the way up to his hair. All of a sudden she could feel herself overcome with emotion. Tears began pooling in her eyes again. And she said, before it was too late, she said, “Thank you, Joon, for everything… thank you.”
When he heard the tremble in her voice, Namjoon pulled away, just so he could see her. Brishti quickly retracted too - to wipe off her tears, trying to laugh off the silliness, apologising. Namjoon replied, “It’s okay… I understand… I… Thank you, Rim. I hope you… you know what I mean...” What he wanted to say, what he hoped she understood was that she was what was helping him come alive. But being unable to, Namjoon knew someday he would. Someday soon.
Brishti nodded to say she understood. Namjoon tried to lighten the atmosphere, saying, “You’re not… just anyone, you know? So… maybe you should tell me something I could do which is… not just basic decency, but something that can be considered truly feminist, you know. I’d love to do that for you.”
Brishti smiled and nodded. She suddenly felt tired & almost of its own accord, her body stretched into a yawn. She said, “I’ll think of something. We- I should go now… Do you want- anything?...” Brishti was delighted about how drunk she had gotten from one hug. It was exciting that she knew she’d be sleeping with the sweater he had tossed in the laundry basket tonight. She decided to take a bit more time to enjoy being intoxicated without a substance, together and alone.
Later that night, as Namjoon laid on his fold out sofa, alone, he thought of how great it had felt to have Brishti in his arms. To have someone who wanted to know about his day. To feel her heartbeat, like raindrops, knocking on his chest like it was a window pane, almost as if asking to be let in…
Thoughts like these, they made Namjoon reach for the notepad & pen that he always kept close by. He wrote. He wrote of being world weary and suddenly having a friend. Suddenly feeling like the world wasn't rushing him, that he didn’t need to run, that he could take time, be slow, be a poet. His heart tugged at his pen as it wrote lines about what it felt like to have someone cry for him. To have someone be full of feelings for him, to have someone to embrace his weary body. He wrote about how he missed that embrace and yet it was okay… as long as she was still here, maybe not just next to him, yet. Maybe someday. It was okay because she asked how he was every day and Brishti was here, forever. Namjoon felt tears run down his own face, as he titled the first poem he’d written in almost five years - Forever Rain.
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Oooooh god you read it?! Thank you so much! Please please let me know what you thought! Get into my messages about it! I would love nothing more than to hear what you felt about this!
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