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luffyvace · 1 month

Note

can i request romantic hairo kineshi hcs?

yes you mayyy~ lovely anonymous~

I’ve never seen anyone request him before! What a fascinating request 😋

gn since no gender or pronouns mentions ;}

Hairo’s personality is very intense and hype yet kind and helpful 💪

his good nature can help cheer you up if your a negative person

your feel upset about a wardrobe malfunction/bad hair day?

“NO, (name), you look great! Every day you get up you look great! Is the rivers gonna stop flowing because your outfit isn’t perfect??! No! Is the sun gonna stop shining because your hair is out of place?? No! You. Look. Great!”

absolute awesome motivator.

I cannot express that enough

Always there when you need him

He manages to cheer you up every time too!

Let’s address the pants situation..😭

that dude doesn’t even get embarrassed when his behind his out 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️😭

you probably do for him…

thank goodness no one makes fun of him for it-

except for like- nendo- who keeps pointing it out every time it happens..😀

but anyway (SEE WHAT I DID THERE??)

Alr fine I’ll stop..

his reputation (or yours) doesn’t go down because of it and your truly grateful

You know.. your pretty lucky now that I think about it

People love your boyfriend so much that even if he gets pantsed they won’t trash him for it

💓💓

that’s how you know he’s a real sweetie

This dude is raring to participate in any form of sports

and you dote on that so much!!

you support him in anyway you can

“GO HAIRO!!”

”YOU GOT THIS HAI-KUN!!”

you almost hype him up as much as he does you when your supporting him!

if you want he’ll offer for you to join when he’s training for his tennis matches

He do be getting pretty hard core but you know he means well by it 😅

its also a bonus that he’s disinterested in kokomi

because now you don’t have to worry about disloyalty

of course he, himself isn’t disloyal

just in genera, versus, if you were to date another guy who could possibly still be charmed by her which could lead to problems in the relationship..

again! You don’t have those worries 😊

it actually makes you feel really special to know he chooses you over teruhashi—who everyone thinks is perfect

to him, your perfect for him 🥺

lol he would totally say something cheesy like that and genuinely mean it 💖

gotta love a guy like that amirite? (Am I right?)

speaking of which it’s canon he doesn’t think about love

until you of course 🤗😵‍💫

he’s more so cheesy romantic with his words

so your dates are either more casual or fun and heart racing

which to be frank, it’s usually both

like working out for example :)

if you like to-

if not then a jog in the park is manageable

Your man is also certainly open to trying your hobbies as well!

but one that you could probably both agree on would be a theme park/carnival

if you don’t like the big, scary rides? the fast tea cups (that are safe on the ground) are just as thrilling to him! 💗

Random :) but you make sure to bring him back down to earth when he goes over the top

like when he gets too excited or into things

For example, that time he literally went and chopped down trees by his OWN HAND instead of buying already chopped wood 😀😅💖

you break it to him gently of course..

his strength is probably attractive if not admirable to you

especially his muscles 😍

no matter your weight or height he can pick you up guaranteed ♡

he often takes you to the gym or park when he works out—if your up for it

if you join him all the better!

although he probably has a gym in his house somewhere- at least weights

i can’t see otherwise

his dad might work out too

Him and famous tennis players likely inspired him when he was young

his strength comes in handy too!

now you have a no-struggle jar/can opener!! 😚

If you don’t he will definitely encourage you to work out

Or if you already do (i feel like if he did have a type they’d be a sporty person like him) you two will be the sweat duet or smth bc 😂😂

honestly? he’s too hot for cuddles in the summer but is great for them in the winter!

until he’s not.. 😀

it gets so bad it be feeling like SUMMER in your room while cuddling since he’s emitting heat 😗🤦‍♀️

his rivalry with nendo low key concerns you bc you know he’ll overexert himself 😭💞

he canonly knocks out at 8pm on the dot

(LOL)

so if you ever have sleepover don’t expect to pull all nighters

and you better scarf down dinner (i feel his mom would make dinner at around 6:30 ish)

so you can have a hour and a half to play some video games or smth

Something tells me he’d also be into reading manga

probably sports manga-

pretty obvious why-

if not then some sort of action

gets the blood pumpin ya know??

so at least that’s something you could do together if you yourself aren’t into sports

if I had to pick a fav sports anime for him it’d be free or aihru no sora (this except I’ve never watched either :3 <3)

his black belt in Judo is a very cool feat. to you

if you wanna learn (especially if your not strong so you can defend yourself) he leaps to teach you

he’s a great teacher and has patience but he does get really fired up about it ❤️‍🔥

And even if you don’t wanna learn it anymore or it’s taking awhile- don’t worry this guy will always protect you <3

coming to his tennis games is another way you support him

your right there next to his friends and family as well as your own

Practically the whole school shows up for this guy

everyone loves him 💓💓

he reminds you to do your homework and will help you with it or motivate you to finish it if you need it

his. parents. love. you.

whenever you come over for dinner or a sleepover his mom always goes “ohh, one more hug” like- A THOUSAND TIMES before you can actually leave 😭❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

she loves you like your her own

She trusts you not to break Hairo’s heart either

and those two have a real close bond so that says something <3

She kisses you atop the head sometimes (specifically when your leaving or when you say goodnight before bed during sleepovers)

the dad is always like “your a good kid yknow?” “Take care of yourself”

LOL TYPICAL DAD TALK

for the record he loves your parents too <3

and they love him as well 🤗

and with that..!

y’all future together is practically already sealed 💞

10/10 boyfriend no flaws 100% green flag- go go go!

Hairo seems like such a sweet boyfriend!

it’s sad that he’s underrated but at the same time at least only the good ones can have him

☝️😙

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incorrectjurassicpark · 2 years

Text

Lex: i Amn just……….. a litle creacher. Thatse It . I Canot change this

#dear anon: this marks the start of the tim and lex post influx :) hope you enjoy <3 #jurassic park #lex murphy #incorrect quotes

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2-dsimp · 1 year

Note

hiya! im completely new to the yansim genshin au and im so excited to get into it!<3 im just curious, i may have missed it somewhere, but it u can take this as a random what-if, but xingqiu student librarian in the future mayhaps? 👀 again ive only come across your work just now so if ive missed it then my bad ^^;

Welcome aboard dear anon!

Also Xingqiu as a student librarian is an interesting what if! There has been some suggestions about the open library positions so I’ll be sure to take note of this (>^ω^<)

#hope you enjoy your stay #2dsimp chats 💬#player suggestions ❇️#dear anon <3

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iovetecchou · 8 months

Note

hello! i dont know if this might be cringy but I just thought about it the other day and thought I’d share!! your jouno angst reminds me so much of the audio from silent hill that goes, “so you’re maria?” “I am, if you want me to be.” basically its a dialogue of 2 characters 😭😭 You might’ve heard this dialogue if you use tiktok often, “It doesnt matter who I am, Im here for you james. See? Im real.”

just that specific part without context of the actual media silent hill makes me think about your jouno angst work!! i hope this isn’t weird or anything 🙏

hi hi!! please this isn’t cringy at all dear anon i found this endearing<3 i know exactly which part of my jouno fic you’re talking about that reminded you of that silent hill audio that’s been going around!! i looked it up again after reading this ask to refresh my memory ehe

but like i said, not cringy or weird in the slightest!! thank you for sharing <3

#q is scheming #i really enjoy silent hill too #the games specifically #so this made me all giddy haha #i hope you had a lovely day dear anon<3

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lovifie · 3 months

Text

Hi! 🩷

Welcome to my blog! You can call me Lovi/Lovifie or any nickname 🩷🩷

Request are closed at the moment, but my inbox is always open for asks and chats 🩷

Also on AO3 (working on uploading)

Add you username if you would like to be added to the tag list - Please check this before writing your name

This is a compilation of all my works for the COD characters, specifically Task Force 141. 🩷

My dear anons 🫠, 🍰, 🫀 and 🦝

Hope you enjoy it!

❤️‍🔥Smut❤️‍🔥 🌸Fluff🌸 🤔Suggestive🤔💡Interactive💡

✨One-Shot✨ 📖Series📖 🎭Crack🎭 💧Angst💧

No One Needs to Know... Right? ❤️‍🔥✨

Nasty Young Price ✨❤️‍🔥

Price meeting your parents for the firt time ✨🎭

Him with a wheelchair user partner ✨🌸

Mr. & Mrs. Price ✨🌸❤️‍🔥

Her Royal Highness 📖💧🌸❤️‍🔥

Hormones Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 🤔❤️‍🔥📖

Spidey 📖💡

Switch Bodies 📖🌸 First Morning 🌸 Meeting Soap 🌸💧

Simon Riley is a Good Man ❤️‍🔥✨+ Soap is a good man in the reblogs

Boyfriend!Simon learning about himself 🎭🤔✨

Immortal!Ghost x Reader that always comes back 💧✨🤔

Simon Riley always loved your hair ✨🤔🌸

"Simon" 💧✨

Simon with a big titties and tiny titties girlfriend ✨🤔

Insecure about their hands reader ✨🌸

Ghost and Reader getting along ✨🎭

Simon learning about your childhood - Extra bit - Extra x2 ✨🌸

New dad Simon ✨🌸

A Village Apart ✨❤️‍🔥

Gaz finding his soulmate ✨🎭🌸

Manipulative Gaz ❤️‍🔥✨💧

Break Up 💧✨/📖

Back Home ✨❤️‍🔥🌸

Valeria's different approach to interrogation ❤️‍🔥✨

Little Red Riding Hood ❤️‍🔥✨

Soap's Diary (mumbling)

Him with a wheelchair user partner ✨🌸

Johnny's work out routine ✨❤️‍🔥

Soap, who steals something more than your heart (darkishh)✨

Price's secret weapon ✨🤔

¿Hambre, mi niña? ✨❤️‍🔥

Shitposting and Jokes I have Proudly Posted 🎭

Lift Me Off My Feet (Poly 141 x Reader) 📖❤️‍🔥🌸💧

Well, I Wasn't On That Tunnel (Ghoap x Reader) 📖❤️‍🔥💧

COD Boys Try Sexy Roleplay ✨❤️‍🔥🎭

1K Event Choices

What kind of nasty each man is? ✨💖

Ghost finding out about you and Soap's little deal 📖🤔

#call of duty #call of duty smut #masterlist #ghost x reader #captain price #john soap mactavish #kyle garrick #call of duty imagine #cod imagine #poly 141 x reader #poly tf141 #cod #modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare

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fayes-fics · 11 months

Text

Second Son

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: The second son is, for once, the first choice...

Warnings: none really... mild angst, family dynamics, love at first sight.

Word Count: 2.9k

Authors Note: Request fill for anon here, about Benedict being the second choice for everything.... until his love turns up. Thanks for this request; I hope this is angsty enough for you anon. Im not sure about it tbh. Sorry that it's taken more than three months to get to it on my WIP list. Unbetaed. Enjoy <3

Benedict Bridgerton was born into privilege and can have few complaints. Except perhaps that he is always second. The spare. The just-in-case option. Being a familial insurance policy lends one more freedom than the burden of being the titled first son, perhaps, but it also feels like your whole existence, in some respects, can seem like a contingency plan.

____

His stomach swoops with excitement as the arrow pierces the target dead on the bullseye. And on his first ever archery lesson, just after his twelfth birthday.

He turns around to see if anyone is there to witness his triumph, but it goes unmarked. All his young siblings gathered around Anthony, patting him on the back for his achievements in doing the same moments before. Being a good shot is an essential skill for the next Viscount indeed. The fact that he has been receiving instruction for months already and this is Benedict’s first lesson hurts a little.

But he doesn't bother to bring attention to his arguably more impressive feat. It seems pointless now. Wordlessly he shrugs and walks towards the target, plucking out his arrow and starting again. Perhaps next time, they will notice.

____

“Is that the new Viscount Bridgerton?” Benedict hears a young girl murmur as he sweeps into the first societal event of the season, the spring following his father's death.

“Oh no, my dear, sadly not; I believe that is one of the brothers,” her mother replies, acting as if he has no sense of hearing, even trying to ignore it as he is, surveying the crowd.

“Such a shame,” the young girl huffs, “he is so very handsome.”

“Yes, dear, but sadly not titled. We can do better,” her mother chides, moving them along out of earshot.

He will never get over how cutthroat the Ton can be, a part of his tender seventeen-year-old heart sinking. Not that he had a potential interest in that girl, more the principle that he will somehow be rendered as an also-ran, at best a consolation prize, for the rest of his life.

What is most galling, perhaps, is that, when his mother needs their presence the most on a night like tonight, the new VIscount is nowhere to be seen. Has not even bothered to show his face, running off to some spurious gambling den and brothel, spending the night indulging himself rather than facing society.

So here Benedict is, stepping up to play the dutiful son that his elder brother should be. Being the support their mother so desperately needs at her first event as a widow, her arm looped heavily through his, her whole bodyweight seeming to use him as her literal pillar of support. As he escorts her around the room, he is filled with admiration at her brave face. He can see the overwhelming sadness in her eyes every time the word dowager is invoked, and his heart cracks a little at the loneliness he can feel emanating from his mother’s very soul.

“Tis a shame the Viscount did not deign the first event of the season worthy of his patronage,” she states pointedly as she sips champagne.

“I am sure he has very good reasons for his absence,” Benedict replies soothingly, covering for his errant brother, attempting to shield their mother from the truth of his philandering ways. Benedict knows it is Anthony’s way of dealing with the responsibility of the title of Viscount being thrust upon him so young. But sometimes, just sometimes, Benedict wishes he could escape his grief in such a manner, Anthony taking his turn attending a stuffy ball and playing guardian to a grieving woman. Their burdens may be different, but the wish to escape them is often not, Benedict realises.

____

She catches his eye at a garden party at Aubrey Hall. She is a pretty young lady, maybe eighteen to his twenty-three, with bright eyes and a sweet, happy face. She makes his palms slightly sweaty. He watches her from a distance, uncertain how to approach or what to say, feeling a little tongue-tied, even.

Just then, Anthony materialises at his shoulder.

“Who is that pretty young thing?” Anthony asks, tracing Benedict’s line of sight.

“Miss Bradstreet,” he replies, watching as she turns to face the sun, closing her eyes, basking in its warmth. The light captures her cheekbones perfectly, and he itches to have his sketchbook and capture her likeness. He would very much like to get to know her better.

“Let's go provide a warm welcome,” Anthony smirks, clapping a hand on Benedict’s shoulder and practically dragging him across the lawn.

Benedict reluctantly follows, a flutter of excitement as her eyes land upon them as they approach.

“Miss Bradstreet,” Anthony swaggers. “Viscount Bridgerton at your service; I am so very pleased to be your host today,” he bows.

Benedict's stomach plunges as he watches her practically melt into the lawn right there, virtually swooning at Anthony’s feet.

“Oh, and this is my brother, Benedict,” Anthony adds, almost as an afterthought.

She flicks her head to the side briefly to politely acknowledge Benedict before returning to Anthony. All of her undivided adoring attention on him as he regales the story of his latest hunting triumphs upon her insistence. Benedict heaves a sigh and watches as yet another young lady he likes chooses his brother over him. He is almost used to it now, but it doesn't stop the sting every time.

____

Your world grinds to a halt as you see him. He is descending the stairs with what you assume is the rest of his family. He is very much in the middle of a tight circle, walking behind what appears to be his mother and perhaps older brother. Quite the most beautiful man you have ever seen, your heart pounding in your ears, your throat suddenly dry despite the lemonade in your hand. You assume they must be the hosts, seeing as they are the very last to enter the ballroom here at Bridgerton House, and there is no announcement of their name.

“Who is that?” you whisper, leaning towards your elder sister. She has been out among society for a year and knows the Ton better than you.

“That is the Bridgerton family, of course,” she replies. “Illustrious in the extreme. Our hosts for this evening. The Viscount there is the most eligible bachelor of every season… and every season, he has resisted a match. So I wouldn't bother if I were you,” she sniffs.

“Which is the Viscount?” you check, your eyes unable to leave the beautiful man with a cravat tied in the most unconventional fashion.

“The one with his arm looped with their mother, the dowager Viscountess, naturally,” your sister rolls her eyes as if patently obvious.

“And what of the others?” you inquire keenly, realising the man you admire cannot be the one your sister is referring to. “Do you know their names?”

“I do not,” she admits, “such things are not really important when one is looking for a titled husband,” she points out airily.

You nod, knowing the responsibility your sister must carry as firstborn to find a suitable match that can provide for your widowed mother and, indeed, perhaps yourself and your younger sister should neither of you be able to find a husband. You don’t envy her position one little bit.

You are, however, desperate to get closer to the most beautiful man you have ever seen. And so you spend your evening working towards them, in as polite of a fashion as you can, your stomach in knots of excitement to know him.

“Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton, it is an honour and a pleasure to meet you,” you curtsy, heart pounding as he now stands a few feet away, unable to look at him so close by.

“Hello, my dear and you are?” she asks politely.

“Miss y/n y/l/n, it is my very first season; I am so honoured to be here,” you explain. “I must provide the apologies of my mother, Mrs y/l/n, who could not attend tonight due to a cold, but she is so very thankful for the invitation.”

“Oh, of course,” the viscountess smiles. “I am so sorry to hear of her illness; please pass on my best regards… Anthony!” she turns to her side to grab the attention of a man. The viscount’s head whips around from where he is in discussion with another. “Come meet Miss y/l/n,” she needles pointedly. “Miss y/l/n, this is the Viscount Anthony Brdgerton, and he is so pleased not only to make your acquaintance but also for your presence here tonight,” she welcomes on his behalf, and you do not miss the subtle nudge in the ribs she gives him.

Then his regard is drawn to you. He is handsome certainly, and you appreciate his polite but absent-minded greeting. His attentions are obviously elsewhere, but then you cannot fault him as yours are the same. Your gaze strays over his shoulder to the man who first captures your attention. And your breath is stolen by how his hazy blue eyes stare intently at you.

____

Benedict is twenty-six years old when he is struck by lightning. Not literally. But that is the sensation that runs through his body when he first lays eyes on you—politely introducing yourself to his mother and thanking her for your invitation to this ball.

He thought he knew what attraction was until this point. He thought he knew the depths to which one could fall in love in an instant. He was an utter fool. He looks at you, and at once, everything is so quiet and loud all at once. He is desperate to know you in a way he has never felt. To grab your hand, take you somewhere, and ask you a million questions to get to know your soul. He also wants to kiss you so much that his lips tingle. And inside, his lungs want to scream as his mother does the natural thing and introduces the beautiful, polite young lady to her most eligible son… Anthony.

Then his heart jolts as your eyes stray from Anthony and meets his, your pupils dilating in a way that makes his lungs too small to inhale air. It is the first and only time a young woman has had Anthony’s full attention and has looked away from it. And to him, no less. The tidal flood of chemicals in his system makes it feel like he is vibrating in his very shoes.

____

You try your best to be polite and look at Anthony as he speaks, but your sight is drawn to this other man like a moth to a flame. From appearance, the second son, as you are the second daughter. A flare of understanding and sympathy in your chest as to how that is. You want to grab his hand and run away with him.

“My lord,” you find your voice and snap your eyes back to the Viscount, “would you do me the honour of introducing me to the rest of your wonderful family?” your ask, almost timid.

He looks temporarily taken aback, as if mystified why anyone in the Ton would care about the status of anyone beyond his mother and himself. You smile at him expectantly and do not miss, from the corner of your eye, how the beautiful man’s face is awash with surprise at your request.

“Oh, most certainly,” Anthony seems to snap out of his temporary stupor and turns to introduce his siblings in attendance. A tall, baby-faced young man stands to attention as Anthony moves from left to right. “This is Colin; he has just returned from his travels in Greece,” you nod and smile politely, knowing nothing of the subject. “And this is my sister, Eloise; it is her first season, and she is not in the slightest bit happy about that,” he adds dryly, and you can't help but giggle and feel a kinship with the spirited young lady who returns your wry smile. “My eldest sister, the Duchess of Hastings, who is visiting us,”

You curtsy and bow your head. “It is an honour, your Grace,” you add, and she smiles sweetly at you, her arm looped in her mother's.

“Obviously, you have met my mother,” he continues, and suddenly he is the last in the line. You feel your palms clench, sweaty in anticipation of learning his name “... and this is my brother, Benedict; he hopes to be an artist.”

You are finally brave enough to meet his eyes again. He is so achingly beautiful that the rest of his family, indeed the whole ballroom, melt away from your view—he is all you can see.

“Oh, I adore art,” you stutter, mesmerised, offering your hand to him, the first and only person in the family you do so to. Unseen by you, your gaze only on one man, Anthony’s mouth drops open in surprise.

Nothing can prepare you for when Benedict’s gloved hand gently touches yours, him bowing to kiss the back of your hand. You catch a woody citrus scent that makes your mouth water as he does so. And then you feel the warmth of his lips through your glove, and you are utterly undone.

“Miss y/l/n,” he rumbles quietly, the sound making your insides melt even more; it's deep and resonant and makes every inch of your body tingle.

“Please call me y/n,” you murmur, moving closer, knowing how scandalous that might be, but seemingly unable to stop yourself. He has a hypnotic hold over you that you don't want to fight.

“Only if you shall call me Benedict,” he breathes, and it takes Anthony clearing his throat to make you spring apart, suddenly remembering where you are.

____

His lips touch the silk of your glove, and he is gone.

Already planning a future, his mind supplying images of you at his cottage out in the country, the lady of the house. Tending to the herb garden, reading happily curled up in front of the fire in the drawing room, fearlessly plucking a bow as you stand in front of joint archery targets gently teasing him for losing to a girl, and finally, the image that truly knocks the wind out of him, you naked under him, desperately moaning his name as you move together, entwined in ecstasy.

He hears your sharp inhale, and his heart skips at the idea you feel it too. That you are the first woman ever that sees him and not Anthony. Really sees him. Not as the second son. Not as a consolation prize.

And when your body seems to sway towards him, he is already mentally asking his mother for a betrothal ring from her grandmother, which she said she is keeping just for him.

____

“Benedict,” his name feels wonderful in your mouth, like a gift from the heavens. “Please, may we take a turn around the gardens?” you implore, the boldest you have ever been in your whole life.

“It would be my very greatest pleasure,” he responds.

And you know with absolute certainty you have met your husband, the father of your children, your very future.

____

“It is not as if this is my show….” he sighs.

“You should not do that, darling,” you say affectionately, ruffling his hair as you move to fix his cravat; it definitely needs to be more jaunty, in your opinion.

“Do what?” he breathes, his wedding ring catching the light as he places his hands gently over yours and stills your motions.

“Think of yourself as second,” you argue, running your hand over his cheek. “This gallery opening may feature others' work too, but you are the star of the exhibit,” you reassure, tilting his forehead down so it rests upon yours.

There it is again. That look that always floors you. Even now, a year later. Like you are the most wondrous creature, and he can scarcely believe you are his.

“Never forget, you will always be first to me,” you utter fiercely, watching his eyes soften with devotion. “And not just me….” you guide his sizeable warm hand onto the swell of your belly, “to us. We love you so much, Benedict,” your tone is ardent, wanting him to believe he deserves this recognition, that he should believe in himself the way that you do.

“I love you, too,” he responds quietly, reverentially. “So very much. Both of you are my whole world,” his voice choked with emotion, and you throw your arms around him and squeeze hard, wanting to telegraph just how much he is the very centre of your universe.

An hour later, you clutch your hands over your chest as you watch him being brought onto the raised stage and introduced to the crowd as they applaud him and his work rapturously, awaiting to hear him talk of his art. As he does so, you stroke your belly unseen under your cloak, beaming with pride for your wonderful husband.

____

He sees your face in the crowd, and as ever, it calms him, especially at this landmark moment. So as he finishes the speech that he has rehearsed for days now, he decides to do something perhaps unconventional but something he seems unable to resist.

“Lastly, before I allow you back to your champagne,” he jests, finally at ease with the attention and recognition. “I want to thank my life’s inspiration, the very reason I stand before you today. My wonderful wife. Thank you, my love, for being the light of my life; for always making this second son your first choice. You will always, always be my first choice. I love you.”

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @mlovesbridgerton @m-rae23 @last-sheep

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bloodlust-1 · 3 months

Note

Hi. So I loved the story you made about Tav revealing she's a virgin to Astarion. You said we could send prompts so when you're back I would love a story about Tav's first time with Astarion under the stars 🌟🥰.

Love your stories

Thank you 🙏🏾

Okay - Fine! I'll totally give ya a part 2 ;* ! A few people actually requested this so it's about time ;p Since this is a virgin Tav, I wanted to be extremely delicate and detailed with Astarion's actions, while also still being sexy. This is some slowburned passionate smut!!

Lets get into iitttt. Hope you enjoy reading anon!

˚ ° A purity like yours ° ˚ part 2

Lovely photo by @astarionposting

Astarion x fem Tav — Explicit 18+

T/W: Smut!, virginity

Summary: Astarion fulfills his promise to make Tav's first time a beautiful and memorable experience, something he believes she deserves. When he surprises her, things get heated and her first time becomes a memory that'll forever burn into her head.

Notes: This is a part 2 to this story. You don't have to read part 1 to enjoy or understand the storyline, but it just hits different for the ones who did :* <3

The air was filled with the sweet scent of wildflowers and the sound of crickets chirping. Astarion had been planning this surprise for weeks and now it was finally time to show Tav. He took her hand and led her through the dark forest, carefully avoiding any fallen branches or rocks.

Tav held onto his hand tightly, and the anticipation was welling up inside her. What was it? She had no idea where Astarion was taking her, but she trusted him completely.

Finally, they reached a clearing in the forest and Astarion stopped, turning to face Tav with a soft smile on his face. "Close your eyes," he whispered, "I have a surprise for you."

Tav did as she was told, her heart racing with excitement. She felt Astarion take her hand once again and lead her a few steps forward before coming to a stop.

Tav felt the warmth of his palms on her shoulders. Then, the pressure of his lips pressing against her neck, "Okay, open your eyes."

Tav slowly opened her eyes and gasped in awe at the sight before her. They were standing in a beautiful pasture, surrounded by tall grass and wildflowers. But what took her breath away was the night sky above them. It was filled with countless stars, twinkling in the darkness.

"Astarion..." Tav spoke under her breath, her eyes wide with wonder. "I had no idea..."

And somehow, the moonlight captured Astarion so perfectly under its shine. A small wind blew softly threw his white curls.

Astarion chuckled at her reaction and helped her lie down on the soft grass. "I knew you would love it," he said, lying down beside her.

Tav couldn't take her eyes off the stars, they seemed to go on forever. "I never knew the night sky could be so beautiful," she whispered.

Astarion turned to look at her, his eyes shining with adoration. "Just like you," he said, a hint of awe in his voice. "Your beauty is just as infinite as the stars above us." He shyly averted his eyes back onto the sky.

Tav's eyes welled up with tears and she turned to look at Astarion with a scrunched smile. "Thank you for showing me this,"

Astarion wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. "I am just glad you like it, my dear," he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

Tav couldn't contain herself, wrapping her arms tightly around Astarion and bombarding his face with kisses. "You're the best," she said between giggles.

"And beautiful!" He exclaimed at her sarcastically, or did he really mean it?

Tav rolled her eyes and shook her head with a light heart.

They lay there for what felt like hours, just enjoying each other's company in comfortable silence. Tav could feel Astarion's steady breath against her cheek, and it calmed her nerves.

Without warning, Astarion's hand slipped down to rest on Tav's hip. She stiffened slightly, not expecting the sudden touch. But before she could react, Astarion's hand moved lower, cupping her ass.

Tav's eyes widened in surprise, and before she could speak, Astarion let out a nervous apology under his breath. Tav could see the panic in his eyes, afraid he had crossed a line.

"No -" She felt herself get flustered, but Tav mustered up the courage to reach for Astarion's face, cupping his cheekbone.

"I-I actually...like it," Tav stammered, her eyelashes battered at him shyly.

Astarion's eyebrows raised in shock before a cocky smirk spread across his lips. "Oh, is that so?" he teased, his voice low and playful.

Tav nodded.

Astarion's fingers trailed up the back of her thighs, tickling her skin. Tav squirmed under his touch, feeling a sudden heat between her thighs.

Her breath hitched as Astarion groped her ass, his touch was surprisingly gentle and soft. Tav felt his breath become heavy and he leaned closer to her, his lips hovering just inches from hers.

"You're such a tease," she playfully scolded him, her voice laced with desire.

Astarion just chuckled, his fingers still teasingly caressing her skin. "But you like it," he whispered, his lips now grazing her ear.

Damn, he's right.

Tav liked the way he made her feel, and the way he touched her. With a sudden burst of confidence, she pulled him in for a passionate kiss, gently climbing on top of his body fully.

Astarion's hands gripped Tav's hips, softly tugging them against his groin. He huffed into the kiss, grinding her hips against him with each needy thrust.

Tav's hands slid up Astarion's chest, feeling the defined muscles beneath his shirt. She moaned softly while he continued to grind against her, the lace of his shirt now completely undone and hanging loosely around his neck.

Astarion growled low in his throat, his lips moving from hers to trail kisses down her neck. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, his breath hot against her skin. "If this is what you really want, my love - I can't wait to feel you."

Tav shivered at his words, her body aching with desire. "I want you," she replied, her hands running through his hair as she tugged him closer.

Astarion's hands traveled down her body, his fingers tracing the curves of her waist before sliding under her shirt. He lifted it over her head, revealing her bare skin to him. He helped her kick off her pants as well.

Astarion lifted her by the waist, pushing her to sit straight up on his lap as he laid, "I want to see you from this angle."

Tav looked down on him in her undergarments. This was the most naked she had ever been in front of him, and it made her shudder with anxiousness.

His eyes sparkled, trailing down from her collarbones, breasts, stomach, full thighs, and then the soft cloth of her panties. She was a work of art, a muse.

His hand snaked up her side, with a swift motion he unclipped her bra with one hand; allowing it to sink off her shoulders.

Tav turned her head timidly, hiding her face in as much of her hair as possible.

As her bra fell, her breasts were exposed to the cool air of the night, and Astarion was practically drooling.

"Pretty." Astarion hummed in approval. He reached out for her breast, cupping the soft skin into his palm.

Tav's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She had never been touched like this before and she didn't know how to react. Astarion's hand continued to roam over her chest, his touch gentle and curious.

"Relax, my dear," he whispered, he took her nipple between his fingers. "I will be gentle."

He sat up, one breast in his palm, and his other hand wrapped around her waist.

Astarion's lips trailed down Tav's neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses. He gave her breast a gentle squeeze. Tav gasped at the sensation, her body responding to his touch despite her nerves.

He pulled her closer, his lips now on hers, and Tav melted into his embrace. Astarion's other hand joined in, caressing her other breast, and Tav couldn't hold back a loud moan.

"There it is. how does it feel?" His breath tickled her lips.

"More - please.." Tav shamelessly lowered her head, allowing her whimpers to flow out softly.

Astarion kissed her deeply, and her worries and doubts faded away. Tav gave in to the pleasure, letting Astarion take the lead and guide her through this new experience.

she was grateful to have him as her first. He was gentle and nurturing to her needs and wants.

Astarion continued to explore Tav’s body, hands hungrily stroking every curve, scar, and stretch mark he could dip his fingers on.

Studying her every move, expression, and whimper, Astarion pinned every spot that made her jaw drop and face burn red. He specifically loved the way her lower lip fell when she moaned.

He felt one thing that he had never felt before: In control. And all he wanted to do with it was please Tav.

He continued to kiss her, lacing his tongue with hers. The excitement started to whelm deep into his stomach and as a result, poking Tav’s inner thighs with a full erection.

Astarion became desperate, sloppily kissing her while their tongues twirled together. Their hold got tighten around each other and Astarion pulled away with a sharp breath for air.

“I wonder how you taste." His lips pulled into a smug look and it burned Tav's heart. He was so shameless and knew exactly what he wanted. Why wouldn't be honest with his love?

He pushed Tav's back onto the grass, hovering over her naked body.

Tav's heart raced, and Astarion looked down at her with dominating eyes. She couldn't believe she was here, at this moment, ready to give her virginity.

As he pulled his shirt off, Tav blatantly stared at his abs. But when he removed his pants, his erection building right up, Tav had a wave of nerves wash over her.

Astarion noticed the panic in her eyes and immediately stopped. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her lips, his hand caressing her cheek.

"It's okay, my dear," he whispered, "I'll take care of you."

Tav's heart swelled at his words. She nodded, giving him a small smile. He would take care of her, surely.

His lips trailed down Tav's collarbones, making their way to her breasts. Tav's breath hitched, he took one of her nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it and sending shivers down her spine.

He then moved down her stomach, his lips leaving a trail of kisses and his hands caressing every inch of her skin. When he reached her thighs, Astarion couldn't resist the temptation any longer.

With a devilish glint in his eye, he spread her legs wide and took a deep breath, "Delicious," he murmured, before teasing her inner thighs with his kisses.

Tav squirmed under his touch, her skin tingling from the grazing of his fangs against her thighs. A soft moan escaped her lips, and a trail of hickeys littered her skin.

But it was nothing compared to the sensation when Astarion finally placed a single kiss on her core. Tav's back arched for more, her fingers gripping the blades of grass. A soft gasp left her lips.

"I think we should take this slow, my dear," Astarion whispered against her sex, "After all, it's your first time."

Again, his lips were on her folds, kissing them until his tongue dragged across her wetness. The slick of her core had a sweet tinge that only made him desperate for more.

The tip of his tongue fell onto Tav's clit. It burned in heat compared to his tongue and he slowly traced in all kinds of shapes. His red eyes glared up at Tav, studying which designs made her moan more, whimper, arch her back, and push her hips closer against his mouth.

And when he did find her spot, Tav's became a breathy mess. Cries and whimpers flowed out her mouth like lyrics to her favorite song. Her ankles quivered to each long stroke of Astarion's tongue.

Her stomach knotted deep within her and Tav hastily grabbed a handful of his curls.

"A-aahhh, Don't..S-Stop." She gritted her teeth and her face scrunched in an intense plea to his tongue.

His name cried off her lips.

With a devilish glint in his eyes, Astarion flicked his tongue and teased her most sensitive spot. Tav's moans grew louder and heavier.

It was like he became almost feral. He pushed his face closer to her core, his tongue working even more intensely against her clit. Tav felt a knot forming in her stomach. Tav's body tensed up as she neared her climax.

With one final flick of his tongue, Astarion brought Tav to her peak, her body released itself, and Tav let out a breathy cry. Astarion looked up at her, nodding in approval as he took in her flushed cheeks and ragged breaths.

Tav was left breathless and Astarion quickly covered her mouth with his, their tongues tangled needingly like a drug. Their tongues and teeth clashed together roughly. Their bodies practically hummed with a desire for more.

Finally, they pulled away, their chests rising and falling, both trying to catch their breath. "Wow..I...never felt that - before," Tav huffed, her eyes fell hazy.

Astarion gazed at Tav with a mischievous smirk on his face. "I could say the same, my love," he replied, before pulling her in for another heated kiss.

Tav moaned between the kiss, "I want to make you feel good too."

"Open your mouth," Astarion commanded as he fit himself perfectly between her legs.

Tav obeyed, and his slender fingers slipped into her mouth. She sucked on them eagerly, wetting them with her tongue. His eyes coldly pushed them deeper into her throat until she gagged.

"You're such a good pup," Astarion praised, his voice husky with desire. He used her saliva to lubricate his cock before placing it at the entrance of her core.

"Are you ready?" His red eyes pierced Tav's, and with teary eyes, she nodded yes.

With a slow and steady pace, Astarion pushed his hips forward, sliding himself into her. Tav clutched onto his arms and winced at the sharp pain, but Astarion's face faded somber at the sound of her cries.

"Shhh...There, there. Try to relax," he comforted her, giving her a moment to adjust to his length. Tav pulled him closer into a hug, tightly shutting her eyes into his nape.

Astarion gently rubbed the back of her head with his hand, his thumb tracing comforting circles on her skin. Tears welled up in Tav's eyes, but she spoke to Astarion through the pain.

"I can feel you," Tav hummed in a soft voice, admiration.

His heart skipped a beat at her words. They were finally one, and it made him fall in love with her all over again.

Astarion rarely became nervous, but Tav's words shook him, "A-Alright, I'm going to go slow, my love..."

With each thrust of his hips, Astarion could feel Tav's grip tighten around him, and he let out a low grunt of pleasure against her neck. Tav's body responded eagerly to his, and soon they were moving in perfect rhythm together.

Tav's nails dug into Astarion's shoulder blades, dragging lines down his back until it rested on his hips. Tav forced his hips down with her palms closer to her groin.

Their bodies were slick with sweat as they moved against each other, and Tav's moans mingled with Astarion's grunts. At that moment, nothing else mattered except the two of them, lost in their lust.

Astarion grabbed Tav's thigh, forcibly pulling her leg up tighter into his cock. He pumped skillfully into her sex, closing his eyes as his body greedily melted to the sensation.

Fuck, Astarion's mind went blank. Sex was never for pleasure. Not in his world, but in this moment; there was something special about the way his spine shivered and his skin crawled.

Without a word, Astarion took hold of Tav's wrists and pinned them above her head, glaring down at her with carnal lust. Only a gasp left her lips.

"I'm going to take everything I want from you, my love, greedily and passionately."

Wasting no time, his hips rocked against Tav's, their bodies fitting together like two puzzle pieces.

Tav mewled a loud moan, the roughness of Astarion's thrusts almost bordering on pain. But it was a good kind of pain, one that sent shivers down her spine and made her toes curl.

"Astarion!" she cried out, her voice filled with a mixture of pleasure and desperation. "Fuck...n-nghh!"

Astarion's own moans mixed with hers, his breath hot against her skin as he continued to drive into her with each thrust. Tav's walls clenched around him, pulling him deeper and deeper inside her.

Their bodies moved in perfect rhythm, each moan and gasp pushed them closer and closer to the edge. Tav's mind clouded with nothing but the feeling of Astarion's cock inside her.

"Harder, Astarion," she begged, her voice rasped raw with need.

And he obliged, his movements becoming rougher and more urgent and they both approached their climax. Tav's moans turned into cries of ecstasy while her body trembled beneath Astarion's hold.

With one final thrust, Astarion let out a loud moan. His length twitched three times, filling Tav before collapsed on top of her. Their bodies were still entwined.

When he pulled out, a small sheen of blood covered his tip.

Astarion captured Tav's lips, and his eyes fluttered hazily. He then pulled Tav into a hug and they lay in each other's arms, panting and catching their breath. They may have started as strangers, but in that moment, they were truly one and it was a feeling that he never wanted to let go of.

"You're amazing," Astarion kissed Tav's forehead, "How do you feel?"

"I feel ruined - but in the best way possible." Her mouth hung open, still catching her breath.

Astarion clicked his tongue against his teeth, "Darling, you will be feeling deliciously sore in all the right places tomorrow."

"You really think so?" Tav's glossy eyes widened with a flush of red burning her cheeks.

Astarion was so right. The lingering ache would serve as a sweet memory of their passionate and unforgettable night together.

Any thoughts? Comment 👇🏼 I love to engage!

#astarion acunin #astarion x tav #astarion angst #astarion fanfic #astarion smut #astarion x reader #bg3 fanfiction #astarion bg3 #astarion #bg3 fic #bg3 fluff #bg3 #bg3 tav #virgin tav #bloodlust 1 #bg3 smut

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mysacredmuse · 2 months

Note

museee do u have any nsfw aventurine hcs?? id love to see them ! 🥺

- 🦁 anon

hello dear !! I wrote 2.. 2? I think 2, LOL, but those were more specific (you can find them in my masterlist on my pinned post!), so I decided to do general nsfw headcanons for you :) <3

I hope that you will enjoy it! :) <3

reader: I've done both - female & male anatomy, but it is mostly gender neutral :)

cw/tw: nsfw - mdni!, mentions of collars, marking, thigh fucking & riding, mirror sex, praise & degrading, spanking, dry humping, oral, choking, bondage, cum control, edging & overstimulation, breeding, cockwarming, sensory play & blindfolds, office sex, nudes & tapes, pegging

dividers by @/saradika-graphics :)

• Aventurine • General NSFW Headcanons •

he likes soft & rough sex. Although, if he had to choose which one he prefers, it would be soft & romantic one. He likes to take his time with you, he enjoys the intimacy, passion, love and softness of it all ! It's his favorite thing - to sloppily thrust into you, gently pressing his hips into yours while watching your face, tenderly exploring your body with his fingertips or making out with you ! :3

big on making out !!!!!! he loves making out during sex !!!!! he will literally beg you to make out with him or ask you to kiss him. He just wants to have you as close as possible and as much of you as possible <3

he is a heavy switch. Being a dom or a sub is all good with him as long as both of you trust each other and feel comfortable. If you are a submissive, he wouldn't mind being dominant all the time and vice versa. However, he would like to be able to switch from time to time simply depending on his mood and desires at the moment :3

when it comes to his kinks, most of them are not too extreme. He enjoys collars. Either being collared by you or having you collared for him. That's only when there's mutual trust though, he would never participate in collaring with someone that he doesn't trust or care about. Which is also why he would find a very unique collar for you, perhaps even multiple so you can choose depending on your mood. They would all have something that is related to your own likings - favorite nickname, praise, degradation, your name even, color, certain accessories and additions :3

he loves marking ! Either you marking him or him marking you - it all goes. He prefers being marked on his chest, back, tummy, thighs & neck while he enjoys marking you anywhere that he can reach. Your whole body is just beautiful to him and he wants it all for himself :3 In case that marks can't really be seen on your body, then he would just enjoy only collaring you as a form of "marking", it would be more than enough for him :)

he also enjoys being tied up & tying up. Handcuffs, shibari, bows, ties, belts - anything that can serve a purpose for tying up is good to him :3

he likes cum control being done on him while he is tied up. He loves edging and he loves to be a good boy for you and show you how desperate he is while the two of you watch his cock leak precum & cum down slowly, all while he twitches and quivers. It's also the fact that he enjoys being vulnerable like that with you and letting you take control over him :3

however, if you have a cock yourself, he does enjoy doing cum control you as well. Seeing you all tied up while your cock is at full exposal for him and he gets to do anything he wants until he turns you into a little pathetic mess is truly a lovely treat for him <3 He likes to tease, gently licking the dripping cum down your cock all the way up to the tip of it but not letting you finish just yet.., only cleaning you up and edging you further <3

on the contrary, if you own a pussy, he still enjoys edging you & overstimulating you. His favorite is to tie you up for the bed, perhaps even tie your legs open for him while he gets do to whatever he'd like to do to you. Eat you our for hours while not letting you cum or maybe using only toys to edge you. If he is in a more dominant mood, he will use everything he can. Eat you out, then edge you with toys even further, then let you rest for a bit, then eat you out again until you almost cum.. and the circle continues :3

speaking of edging, he also likes to edge himself while he fucks you. He loves sliding his cock in and out of you slowly, letting it twitch and become even a bit painful as he uses you to edge himself. It's even better if you are the one ordering him how to fuck you and edge him like that :3

to finish it off, his favorite is to edge you and then overstimulate you. He also likes when you do that to him. Turning you from begging & pleading mess that is asking him to let you cum into a sniveling little overwhelmed mess that is telling him that they can't take it anymore is truly a beautiful sight for him. You can take one more for him, right?

cockwarming. that's it. cockwarm him or let him cockwarm you - he loves it <3

he loves giving oral. He loves receiving as well, but he prefers to please in that department. It's for his own pleasure too, he could quite literally (and he will) cum while eating you out or sucking your cock. It's simply too much for him to handle - the way your body reacts, the way you sound, the fact that he is the one that makes you feel that good. Enough for him to cum in his pants, really :3

bonus to the previous point: please pull his hair, he loves that... a lot

he is also a big fan of dry humping or simply grinding against each other until both of you cum from it. It's not necessary for him to have sex in order to enjoy and he thinks the neediness and desperation that a heavy makeout session combined with dry humping & grinding holds is quite attractive given that it makes both of you desperate and even more passionate since it's so limited movement & sensations wise :3

thigh riding & thigh fucking ! He loves to fuck your thighs and if he can get just a bit friction of your pussy or balls while he does it, he is going to lose his mind. He is fairly composed a lot of times, but something about thigh fucking makes him completely different than usual. He also loves to let you ride his thigh until you cum, perferably while having a collar on OR in front of a mirror. Also, he would let you fuck yourself between his thighs too, especially if he is punishing you or in a mood to tease you. You want to fuck his thighs..? Well then, make sure to jerk him off while doing it and no, you don't get to stop or take a break or you won't cum ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

speaking of thigh riding in front of a mirror which is also one of his favorites, he likes mirror sex in general ! He wants you to watch yourself while he fucks you, he wants you to see how pretty you are for him and he finds great pleasure in that <3 * bonus if you are filming it

prefers to praise, but he isn't opposed to degrading at all :3 However, when it comes to you doing it to him, he does have a much higher preference for being praised :)

he likes spanking. He isn't big on using whips or such tools, he prefers doing it with his own hand, especially if you are laying on his lap with your ass right in front of him, twitching and squirming while he plays with you <3 He doesn't mind being spanked himself, but he does get a little bit bratty when you do it :3

he likes choking as well & likes being choked :3 Nothing too harsh or rough, but just enough. It makes his brain dizzy and his neck is quite sensitive in general :3

blindfolds but especially during sensory play. He loves to play with ice, wax, feathers and such. His nipples are quite sensitive so anything sensory play related done to his nipples makes him cum almost instantly. However, when he does it to you, he enjoys exploring your body for hours while looking for your sensitive spots and mixing up all the possibilities to make you even needier and more aroused for him :3

breeding. In case that you have a pussy - it is not about pregnancy for him, if he was completely honest, he doesn't have a thing for pregnancy, but he does enjoy cumming inside of you as many times as he can. It doesn't matter if he fucks your cunt or your ass (depending on what you have and/or prefer) - he wants to breed you. There is something very intimate about it in his opinion and it makes him even more desperate to continue fucking you so he could fill you up as many times as he can :3

office sex. Please come to his office and cockwarm him. Or fuck him. Or let him fuck you. Anything really. He enjoys it quite a lot, especially when he is stressed out & something about possibly being caught makes him more than excited about it <3

he enjoys being put into his place which is why a lot of times he might push your buttons purposefully. He is a little bratty, but it's all for the purpose of you having your way with him because it does turn him on very much <3

he likes nudes & sex tapes (I mentioned this before, but I guess I'll say it again) :3

in case you don't own a cock, don't worry at all, he enjoys straps just as much. He might be hesitant about it at first, but he is quick to agree or even offer it himself. This goes hand in hand about his enjoyment in being handled by you - if you would handle him by pegging him until he can't think anymore, then please go on, he loves it and he would be the best boy you've ever had. He also likes sucking straps quite a lot, so just enjoy :3

#aventurine x reader smut #aventurine smut #aventurine x reader #aventurine x y/n #aventurine x you #hsr imagines #hsr smut #hsr x reader #hsr x y/n #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr x reader smut #hsr x male reader #hsr x female reader #hsr x you #muse's writings #muse's anons 💜#🦁 anon 💜

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taegularities · 4 months

Text

colour me in: blooming | jjk (m)

Summary: You're the flower blossoming in Jungkook's living room, no matter how relentless the rain. And you're the sun he tirelessly orbits — warm as a home.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: fwb/f2l, fake dating; hints of angst, fluff overload, suggestive ➳ warnings: full jk pov!, fluff fluff fluff, but also crying, bits of insecurities, mommy and daddy issues, their friendddsss <3, oc's favourite blanket smells like him <3, his feelings for her are consuming him in a gorgeous way 🥺, grocery shopping 🍏 and then a housewarming party, jk chocolate chip nips appreciation (oc pinches them lol), horniness, implied sex + implied boner, sexual tension, flirting and teasing and bickering, yearning, convos about their relationship/life, cooking together hehe, jk is so… jk, kissing/making out, the ending ♡ ➳ word count: 15.6k ➳ a/n: domesticity is my favourite city and i never wanna leave lol. i've genuinely been enjoying fluff more than i ever thought i would. this chapter made me so damn happy and i hope it has the same effect on you guys, too <3 let me know how you liked it; feedback is always appreciated 🥺 also, there are lil sub-headings to avoid confusion with the timeline!! enjoy!! 🤍 ➳ a/n2: even though i am a tiny bit late… happy birthday @jkaxl. love you so much, axelle <3 ➳ listen to: daylight by taylor swift (ty anon <3) | full collaborative playlist 🤍

SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs

”Are you happy?”

“I’m… I’m adjusting to it all. It’s new. But so far I feel— relieved.”

“Okay.” He pauses. “I’m sorry I didn’t encourage that feeling earlier. But… you know. You found your way on your own, and somehow, I find that just as remarkable. If not so much more.”

“Thank you.”

Silence breaks the dialogue, but there are still shreds of unspoken words he’s not letting out yet. Right on the tip of his tongue, resting quietly; so you wait. Let your weary gaze slump to your lap, blinking until you hear a rustle and a—

“Do you want to come over sometime?”

You don’t know.

So you respond in just that uncertainty, “Maybe at some point? When it’s… not so overwhelming anymore.”

“I understand. Hey,” another break in his speech, “I’m proud of you.”

Your heart suspends for a fraction of a moment, but you feel the seething, searing pain. Fresh, clumping up your throat.

“…Thank you.”

THE SUNDAY AFTER THE PRESS CONFERENCE

When Jungkook locks the door, the apartment is quiet, but the living room light still glowing.

Still fired up and hot, the cool back of his hand pats his warm neck and cheek. Your name threatens to tumble off his tongue, but an oddly calm feeling advises against it. And as he carries his bag into the living room, setting it down next to a big flower pot you so wanted, he sees why.

Because you’re curled up on the couch, temple against the back of it, legs pulled in. Your favourite blanket — that you swear constantly smells like him — is draped half over you, falling off one of your shoulders.

You’re sound asleep.

Jungkook recognises the pout even from afar; lets his eyes drift from your face to the hand peeking out of the blanket. Brushing a piece of paper that is holding on for dear life, attempting not to slip off your lap.

What if he never moved? If he kept staring?

Back in college, one of his dearest professors used to say, “You know it’s art when even blinking feels like a waste of time. You don’t want to spend a second not looking at it.”

That very semester is still a major component of Jungkook’s memory. Ever since, he’s seen a handful and a dozen and a hundred pieces that matched the words once uttered.

Just, never as much as today.

The sky has obscured since he left two hours ago — he wonders how fast that time passed for you. Either way, he reckons you didn’t rest until your body forced you to. Because it’s not anywhere near bedtime; but the changes in your life constantly add to your exhaustion.

He wanted to help. He did all morning before you sent him away, arguing that, “You’re already doing too much. And you hate paperwork anyway!”

To which he expressed, “But I don’t hate you or having you here!”

“Just go!” You reached to his left nipple, poking it, and he, wearing a frisky smirk, instinctively threw a protective hand over it. “The muscles demand your attention desperately. Just don’t look at other girls’ butts, ‘kay?”

He chuckled.

You made it sound like a life-altering goodbye to a year-long journey instead of a brief trip to the gym. He nodded solemnly, nearly saluting as he agreed, “You’re right. Gonna make sure I’m able to crush you extra hard.”

But it seems you crushed and knocked yourself out well enough. And that after he sent out various emails with you, drafting and crafting a battle plan, googling salient issues and their solutions, and writing down lists of everything still left to do before you can actually move in.

The two of you are lucky the landlord is laid-back. Usually, they don’t let anyone move in so quickly; demand a couple months. And you’ll already be settling here officially the very next.

Not that it makes any difference.

You already spend your dusks and dawns here, clinging, reluctant to go home. And he won’t tell you to; he’d be a fool to. Plus, he hates his bed cold.

Jungkook’s steps are slow, muscles painful to the touch. He sweeps his tresses back as he nears your slumbering, balled up form, soon pressing a hand into the arm of the couch. Suppressing a groan, he leans in; frees your closed eye from a lock before he plants a kiss next to it.

You stir with the softest flutter of your eyelashes, just a teeny tiny bit.

God. You tilt his world off its axis.

“Baby,” he whispers.

It must be pulling you out of the remnants of your doze, because your muscles awaken, corners of your lips twitching. The movement of your legs finally pushes the paper off the blanket, and Jungkook hurries to catch it before it can drift to the floor; places it on the table.

He kneels; and for the briefest, smallest moments, you flinch when your pupils eventually align with his. Then, relaxation floods you anew, and you grip the blanket, sliding it back over you — only for it to glide down again.

You smile — a tired beam, accompanied by a sigh. Not quite wide, because you’re not fully there yet, but still so genuine. Stretching a little, you murmur, “You’re back.”

“And you’re still working,” he scolds, albeit cushioning his words by bringing a fingertip to your jaw. Flicking affectionately, softly. “Did you eat?”

“Mhmmm. But it’s—” Your hand taps for something, moving under the blanket; and a second later, you’re lighting up your phone, squinting at it. “It’s not late. Gonna eat with you again. I’m not that tired anymore.”

As if on cue, you yawn, tears of weariness collecting. You interrupt it with a gentle snicker and promise, “I mean it.”

The lopsided smile emerges on his features quickly. The drowsy, vulnerable tone in your voice caresses his heart like a gust… but the meaning behind it doesn’t pass by him so fast.

“Don’t overwork yourself, okay?” he repeats for the fifth time today alone; it’s become a constant habit. A reminder, like clockwork. “The body knows when you do.”

“No. I feel great.”

“Just. Be nice to yourself, munchkin.”

“I am,” you defend, attempting to stress the verb, but not quite getting there, “I am. Don’t worry so much.”

An impossible demand; but how would he explain it to you?

Despite the shake of his head, he still gives in, “Okay. I’ll shower and be back in a sec, yeah?”

He waits for your confirmation until you hum in unintelligible agreement, moving back in to plant a kiss on your forehead. Rushes to the shower, washes off today’s effort.

Wet hair strands pushed back, he finds you shuffling and organising the papers you read and filled in today, placing them neatly in the middle of the table. You look more awake now, delivering a content smile before heading to the kitchen with him.

Only, your mind might not be entirely unfogged yet — because your movements are slow. Different from how he handles the stir fry that the two of you cooked for lunch together.

You were proud of your creation — told Jungkook how you’re still far from the skills he possesses, but not bad to start with and improving every day. Seasoning better, understanding how to cut faster without hurting yourself in the process.

It’s lovely, watching the contentment spread in your eyes.

Yet, Jungkook always makes sure to stand close to your back, hands lifted, persistently ready to salvage the situation if need be.

But right now, judging from your clearly burdened brain, he bestowed a relatively simple task upon you. And you look so cute doing it — bun all messy, shoulders slumped, sporting (after stealing) his joggers since they’re so ridiculously comfortable, so get your own.

He side-eyes you every now and then, forbearing a chuckle; but when your lower lip juts in concentration, he can’t help but sling an arm around your waist. The jug containing the iced tea shakes, and you hold the glass carefully, voicing a little, “Oh— I… Kook.”

You’re wide-eyed and caught off guard; blinking when he tilts his head and leaves a kiss under your ear.

You raise your shoulder at the tickling sensation, and when you call his name again, your voice is reprimanding. But he could pick out the endearment even in his sleep.

That’s how it goes every hour of the day; sweet and new ever since you started frequenting his place even more often than before.

Something has occurred since the press conference. Two days only — but the universe has changed. Maybe it has expanded faster than ever and birthed a couple billion more stars, made even the nights brighter. He doesn’t know.

All he does recognise is that unnamed, newfound feeling spreading in his chest, and he’s been unblurring it. Bit by bit. Letting it take on a form that will soon consume him. He’s sure.

And soon, there’ll be a fitting word and definition matching this phenomenon, too.

It’s triggered by even the smallest things.

Like by the sound of your steps when you walk through the apartment. Or by the way you hum your favourite song all the time, unconsciously; then singing the line you hold dearest to your heart before resuming to the hum.

Trust in me when I say…

Or even… by how you’re facing him an hour later, satiated and cross-legged on the bed as you finish up today’s work.

You’ll have to notify the bank and whatnot of your move soon, so you need to brainstorm the relevant institutions that the new address and information will go to. It shouldn’t take too long; you’re diligent, so you’ll just be noting down all numbers next to the places you need to contact and then crash.

Jungkook soon takes over that task, lips moving as he reads the words, writes them down. And amidst the end-of-the-day chore, you crane your neck to read, and tell him, “You have such pretty handwriting.”

“So do you. I didn’t know you made circles over your lower case I’s,” he looks closer to where you scribbled, tapping the pen against a letter, “and awwh. The curves of the T’s!”

You giggle before you add, “I’ve heard a pretty handwriting symbolises inner beauty, by the way.”

“Ohh, so we’re both beautiful.”

“No doubt. We need to take more pictures… we look great together.”

That’s what’s been filling the hours of these days, too, Jungkook supposes. The airy, light atmosphere within the four walls he’s come to share with you. Laughter and shared glances, despite the stack awaiting you — because it signifies far more than paperwork.

Which is why it surprises him when a subtle switch occurs, suddenly and unannounced.

When he looks at your fingers lifting a paper, he can’t say what you’re seeing, but your ardour falters a little. Crooning dying, expression not matching the smile on the pictures you spoke of.

Delicately, you trace the edges of the document before putting it back down, aligning it with the rest of the pile. Pushing the whole thing to the side, you sigh, and he, a silent observer up to this moment, asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Hm?”

“You’re thinking about something. And I don’t like it when you’re quiet like this.”

“Oh… It’s nothing.” The shrug is subtle and unconvincing, and the tight shutting of your lips so telling to him. He senses the tension before you finally reveal, “Dad called today. And…” He waits; another shrug. “It’s nothing. He just asked how I was holding up. And that he’s sorry things had to escalate on Friday.”

Ah. Odd.

Jungkook would never say it to you: Because he has never been one to talk families down, sever a bond by voicing his opinion, even if the relationship’s already hanging by a thread. No… he’d never say it to you.

But.

There’s a dull realisation in the back of his mind; and it evokes quiet anger in him. That… there was always a potential anchor inhabiting the same house as you, but never serving as one.

Hidden behind your mother’s back, letting it all pass — probably for you to build character.

Jungkook has always assumed that his dad did just that, too. Throwing him into the world without support, letting a seemingly irresponsible teenager, and then young adult, experience hardships in order to learn how to deal with them.

In contrast to your father, his dad wouldn’t apologise to him… yet, in the end, morally and emotionally, both your families fucked up big time.

“Oh…”

You nod, elaborating, “He wanted to know if I was going to visit him. But I need a bit of time.”

Right… thinking about it, you haven’t seen your father in a while. And your mother hasn’t blown up your phone since Friday evening — when you came out of the glass building, with equally glassy yet hopeful eyes.

You truly must have let off steam in there for her to back away.

“Is that why you were saying you’ll be rushing to the house after work?”

Because as far as he recalls, you’ve been talking about gathering your stuff immediately after working hours — or on Saturday mornings. Never any other time. Because you know they won’t be at home then.

“Yeah,” you confirm, “I feel horrible neglecting him like that, because he seems to be glad that I’m happy, but…”

Your lips point downward; you clear your throat, but it doesn’t hide the tremble in your voice, “I just wish he’d defended me sometimes. Dunno. Maybe he did and I just don’t know about it? And it never worked? It’s what I like to think.”

God…

“Because,” you continue your vent, “he was strict but not like her, and… Sometimes he did recognise bullshit when he saw it. I’d hear them talk and he wouldn’t always see eye to eye with her. But a bit more open support would’ve been cool, you know?”

Shit, how it angers Jungkook.

The knot in your throat; how you avert his gaze; the looming tears. It all angers him.

He moves his hand to your knee, keeping his voice and heart steady for you. Simply uttering, “Baby…”

“And… and then today he suddenly seemed… I don’t know.” You take a deep breath, shaking your head. Your blinking fastens, and you vehemently dodge Jungkook’s eyes. “I dunno how casually he said it, but he told me he was proud.”

The way you emphasise the word… as if it’s a stranger to you, like you’re trying it out…

Jungkook sighs, heart and chest heavy, muttering so kindly—

“Oh, sweetheart… Ah, come here—”

His palm shoves the papers aside some more, uncaring, and brings you closer to his body. Yearning for your embrace, he shifts with you until your legs wrap around each other. Fingers slither to your chin to raise it, and then pinch your cheek adoringly.

The bedroom light falls into your sparkling eyes, shiny with the dampness. You’re not crying, but you sniffle for a moment.

“Of course he is,” he whispers, keeping your face upright, “what’s there not to be proud of? You’re so fucking cool.”

“…You think?”

“Of course I do,” he repeats, “you’re so inspiring and smart and funny and awesome. I’m the proudest of you, in fact.”

The heat increases beneath his palms as your cheek smoulders, pupils promptly softening. As if the outline of your irises is blurring, relinquishing the harder, unwanted emotions.

“I could probably live with just that,” you respond, managing a tender laugh and mixing it with your sniffles. “But…”

But perhaps, the heavy heart won’t get entirely lighter just yet. And Jungkook’s turns half blue at the same time as yours.

“I wish my mom could react the same way instead of being so… stubborn. I mean, it’s a good thing that I want to stand on my own two feet! And aside from work — she also saw me in the summer, and she knew how I felt without you. She sees how I feel now with you, too, and yet.”

You puff out some air, as if you’d been dying to rant; and he imitates the release of a quiet breath, but for wholly other reasons.

Because…

Along with the melancholy drenching your voice, the guilt shoots an arrow to his heart. Guilty about this damn summer; about the days he nearly gave up on you. If he could encase your fractured soul in a quick cure…

“I’m sorry she keeps hurting you, baby. And… I’m sorry you cried. Being sad over a loser like me was the last thing you needed, so…”

He’s half joking; lifting the corner of his lips. You seem to know, too, because you match his smile — still pledging, “Being sad sucked, but… you’re right here now and. I do need you.”

It’s so easy for you to tinge his entire being in a bright pink. Because somewhere in the depths of his mind, he admits that he wanted to hear this. That he wants you to need him as much as he needs you.

“And I’m right here to stay,” he promises. “Even if she doesn’t. Okay?”

“Yeah… yeah. But maybe someday she can be proud, too.”

It’s fucking you up more than he thought. Probably more than you thought.

“I’m sure,” he guarantees, “some people accept their mindsets as the only truth, angel, but one day she’ll come around.” You only nod. So he adds, “I’ll fix this with you.”

“Fix it?”

“The issues you deal with. And the ones I deal with. You and I together, okay?”

Your motions are slow. The nod is barely one; maybe because his hands refuse to establish yet another distance to your skin. And maybe because you’ve tired yourself out once and for all. The slight slouch is telling; your body needs some rest.

Enough with the papers.

“You know… somehow, this excites me,” he says. The grin emerging confuses you for a while; the flicker in your eyes is as delightful as the moment. “Pulling out all the stops and making things better with you, I mean. I wouldn’t wanna do it with anyone else.”

And he’d know. Because if he’d been comfortable enough, he would’ve long ago; he had the chance to. Yet, the courage never surfaced — until with you.

His touch drops from your face to the side of your neck, shaking you gently before he says, “You excite me all the time.”

Shouldn’t be news to you — bearing his unceasing kisses and everlasting words in mind, his bliss is difficult to miss. There’s barely any containing it around you.

And maybe you know what he means; because judging from your dreamy smile, you can’t seem to muster any self-control either. Feeling the joy bubbling, growing, simmering in the middle of your stomach until it explodes and you—

Wrap your arms around his neck abruptly. Attacking him until balance abandons him, falling back onto the bed before you land on top of him. The hug is crushing, your body pushing into his with every sliver of fondness you can summon.

He could say something. Blurt more admissions dipped in honey. But he doesn’t question it; doesn’t comment on it. Only relishes the silence and your warm cheek against his chest, cuddling in.

And sighs in contentment.

A WEEK LATER

You’re messing up the structured system he established for himself.

The groceries are scattered in the cart; instead of playing Tetris with them, as he usually does, you’re piling them up randomly, unaware of the mess.

Jungkook doesn’t have the heart to tell you that the pack of eggs isn’t supposed to be balancing on top of other products like this. Because holy shit, you are buzzing. Not because you don’t know how to grocery shop, but because of the conversation this morning.

”I've got a whole list in my head. We’ll need a shit ton to make this work tonight.”

You were taming your hair as you listened; watching your reflection follow your movements — and as he readied himself for the day, Jungkook watched from afar.

You’d decided that for now, a week was enough to mourn the loss of whatever familial bonds could’ve been. Just last night you told him that starting this new life means an opportunity to gradually leave your sorrow behind, even if it takes some time.

And in celebration of the new arc you’re so joyfully approaching, you’d decided to host a housewarming of some sorts.

Jungkook’s friends already know his place; but the pronoun has changed. This time, you want them to step into your apartment, too.

Securing a hair strand with a clip, you asked, “Do we have it all here?”

“Not everything. Gotta go grocery shopping later.”

“Ohhh…”

Your fingers floated to the edge of the wash basin. You held it in your grip, leaning over it a little, staring into your own eyes quietly. He checked with another step closer to the bathroom, glimpsing at the expression in the mirror.

Calm, but thinking.

“What is it?” he asked, pulling his jeans’ zipper close.

“Uhh. Do you need help?”

“You should rest. You’re already doing so m—”

“No, no, I mean…” You let the sink go, folding your fingers. Inhaling for just a moment when your eyes fell on his bare torso. “I want to go grocery shopping with you. It’s Saturday and I have nothing to do until tonight. So… Please don’t go without me?”

The big eyes and saccharine question went straight to his heart; like one of Cupid’s pointy, sharp arrows targeting the exact middle of the organ. What else could he have done other than breaking into a breathy laugh — wide grin building a lively start to the morning.

“Of course. I’ll wait until you’re ready then.”

You raised a triumphant, tight fist, and he shook his head in delight. Diminished the distance between your bodies, a hand pressing into the back of your head before pulling you to his lips and placing a kiss to your forehead. Right before—

“Hey— ouch?”

It didn’t hurt; but he still felt the fingers pinching his tiny nipples — and heard your cheeky, “Why are they always hard? And why are you always shirtless, Jeon?”

He didn’t argue that changing into outdoor clothes didn’t count. Instead, the bright golden light you cast in his mind distracted him, taking him back.

You’d said that to him before; everything has changed since then.

“Why are you smiling like this?” you ask, holding a pack of four yellow apples in one hand, red ones in the other.

“Hm?” Jungkook rubs a hand over his cheek, feeling the glee in his countenance before flattening the dimples. “It’s nothing. I’m just liking how much fun you’re having.”

“I am! But most of all because I can’t wait to cook with you today.”

Your words instantly conjure pictures of a potential evening; idyllic ones mixing with utter chaos. Rushing and cutting and serving — but for one of the very first times together. Only milestones ahead.

A higher pitched gushing threatens to fall out of Jungkook, right here in the fruit aisle. But instead, you raise your hands again, asking, “Which ones?”

“Hmmm… neither. Let’s get the green ones.”

You let your arms fall, a finger pointing towards him, and say, “Ohhh. Good call.”

And then you proceed to complicate the cart labyrinth again. What a savagery. Jungkook waits until you’ve turned around and works on reorganising again, following his system. Then, he thinks — this could be draining, but it’s not.

Because you keep each other entertained. And neither of you bothers about the gapes you receive.

Not when he leans over the cart, shoving it in teeny tiny steps; continuing when he realises it makes you laugh.

Or, when you cheer once you find something the two of you like that nobody else enjoys; accompanied by exclaimed Ohhhhs and Haaas. And not as you argue when you find something to disagree about.

It seems that you do not dig dates, and he, the friendly omnivore, takes playful offence in that. He teases you across half the supermarket until you turn the tables, picking up an eggplant and interrupting him with a,

“Look! This is you.”

The roll of his eyes only veils his amusement a little, he’s sure. Because your enthusiasm remains steady, including the impish pull of his beige Supreme beanie over his eyes and a kiss to his cheek that paints the spot in a rosy dust.

Pointing to a glass of honey, Jungkook soon fights back, “And this is you.”

“…This is way too sweet and I do not know how to counter it.”

“Romance tends to make people speechless, darling.”

Your expression resembles an ellipsis; whether you’re out of answers or overwhelmingly affected by the selection of his words, he doesn’t know. He knows he’d short circuit if you ever said that to him.

“Fair,” is what you settle on, though, “wouldn’t I know what brain outages your romantic ass causes.”

You’re the model definition of a cheesy, movie-esque couple. Taehyung and Eun differ from the nature the two of you showcase; they already threatened to bring paper bags in case Jungkook and you overdo it tonight.

Can’t blame them. The world is certainly pink-tinted when you bicker and jest at the register; or when you hurry through an Ikea — courtesy of your last minute plan to buy plants — to make it home and cook in time.

Just this morning, you were daydreaming about the concept of furniture retailers and how such shops allow building a home with the most special person.

And then, as if wanting to clarify your sentiments, you turned in the car, facing him as you struggled with the belt, just to say, “Which is you for me. I’m building a home with you.”

Jungkook’s legs still melt into a puddle whenever he remembers the softness in your words, and the puppy gaze you threw as you finally leaned back in your seat.

Which is why it’s such a shame that the clock is ticking so relentlessly.

Because your initial elation turns into disapproval only for today as you wade through the labyrinthine, time-consuming design the store is so popular for. Trying to keep up with Jungkook’s pace and hastening across the rooms.

And even then, neither of your laughter ceases; you turn the most stressful situations into deep solace. The pressure soon gives way to a calm satisfaction the moment your apartment door opens.

You set up the few plants you brought; some under the window, some on the desk in the bedroom, right next to the Beauty and the Beast rose, and a jade plant in the living room. For good luck, you said.

And then, after resting for five minutes and abandoning all further breaks, you start work in the kitchen. Which proves as cooperative as he thought — that is, until you get into a friendly argument about whether to do the dishes now or later.

“One of us keeps cooking. The other washes up what we don’t need anymore,” Jungkook explains, repeating it over and over.

To which you keep defending, “Or. One cooks one dish. The other handles the second. And we finish cooking faster and then do the dishes together.”

His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose, and he whines, “It won’t make much of a difference!”

“Well, if it doesn’t, then we could do either!”

“BUT… it might get crowded if we work at the stove at the same time, babe—”

“You just don’t trust me with th—”

“Keep yelling at me like that, and—” Jungkook interjects, and you wince a tiny bit; but he continues a mere, barely lasting moment later, “and I swear I’ll kiss you.”

Beat of silence. Your eyebrows are still furrowed. And then, amidst the agitation, you erupt into laughter. Blend it with the chortle he can’t suppress, either.

To Jungkook, the sound is akin to a song — and he could spin the record all day long.

Spoiler warning — you do not kiss. But the lively chuckles and free-spirited conversations dye the atmosphere and flavour it. Its sweetness feels like a feathery kiss, too.

And whether it’s that very unlimited sense of familiarity, gradually growing, or your unwavering teamwork at last — you’re surprised when the late afternoon transforms into an early evening, a dimly blue, cloudy sky already changing into different shades of grey.

Time passed fast; but the hour-hand on the clock still hasn’t quite moved to where you’re waiting for it to settle. Because back in the living room, you’re still an hour early. Your guests are invited for around six, but you can’t say when they’ll actually show up.

Seems you wrapped up work at a convenient time. Better now than late.

You kiss your teeth in the middle of the room, scanning it for something to do. It’s clean; pretty. Plants set up, table wiped, cushions neatly set on the couch. So you remark, “We were so stressed, I didn’t think we’d be finished already.”

Jungkook, already plummeting onto the far end of the couch, pats the spot next to him, saying, “That’s good. Gives us a bit of time to relax. Anything you wanna do?”

But you don’t sit down yet. You watch your manspreading boyfriend lean back, big inked hand wrapping around the remote control. You look at the open button of his shirt, and the singular hair strands; the side parting. The mole under his lips and the big eyes.

He just doesn’t notice it until the lack of a response continues.

“Huh?” he voices again, finger stopping over the power button before his eyes flit back to you.

You look deep in emotions and distracted; if he could guess, then even… ferociously yearning. He waits with a dancing heart until you admit boldly, “There’s plenty I can think of that I wanna do right now.”

You fold your hands behind your back, chest out a little, legs crossing. You curl your lower lip in, nibbling at it. It affects him, and you know. He sucks in air, a hand on his thigh. Blinking at you, and then poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

He leaves out a puff of a tiny laugh, shaking his head a bit. Nearly succumbing to the thought that…

Perhaps there’s an activity you can indulge in before they come, right—

Wrong.

Jungkook, no matter how tempted, throws another glance at the clock, and argues, “Stop thinking of eggplants. They’ll probably be here soon, so your smooth-talking is not allowed to work!”

Your body relaxes, back in its prior position; you pout for a second. “Fine. Then I’ll get dressed before anything else.”

Jungkook sighs in relief — close. Way too close. Tonight might just stretch his jeans if you keep this up; his blood is already abandoning his brain and putting its attention elsewhere.

But you’re well-mannered in the company of guests, right?

Only one way to find out — an hour to go.

Jungkook heaves his body off the couch merely ten minutes later.

And maybe even that was too early.

Maybe he should’ve waited for you to trudge out of the bedroom; or should’ve gotten his clothes and changed somewhere else. Because when he follows your steps to find a new attire for himself, too, you’re sitting at the very edge of the bed, dress already on.

It’s not too posh; rather casual. A green cotton one, pulled up to your hip because you’re dragging transparent tights over your legs. A patch of your thighs is still visible; part of your ass on display where your panties don’t reach. Skin far too empty without his kiss on it.

He doesn’t know how you do it; but within a moment, you elicit a plethora of emotions in him. Burning desire; comfortable warmth; cosy affection. You look so cuddled in in that autumn dress.

Pretty. So gorgeous; you’ll drive him insane.

But the craze doesn’t manifest in hunger this time, but gathers in a single breath, let out in a sigh. Which… makes you recoil. Your hand briefly bolts to your chest, eyes rolling, head shaking. You murmur a quiet, “Babe…” before resuming the task.

Jungkook watches as you lift your body to pull your tights over your ass and the dress back into place, and then reaches out a palm to you; urging yours to settle in it.

Still trapped in a cube of daydreams, he tugs you in until your grace radiates toward him, and then tells you—

“My baby is the prettiest ever. Ever, ever.”

You take his fawning with glowing cheeks, smile so unbelievably worth being alive as you answer, “Your baby isn’t sure if she deserves this so suddenly, but… thankful either way.”

Your voice is an endearing mix of soft and enthusiastic. The combination that breathes life into a room. You’re so…

“God,” he says, squeezing your hand, lifting his other fingers to touch the hem of your dress. Fixing it albeit already perfectly sitting. Then looks up; eyes dropping to your lips. “Maybe you were right. Want to kiss you stupid right now.”

And he would; he wouldn’t hesitate if you didn’t move a palm to his face, pressing a thumb to his plush mouth. Telling him, “Nope, too late. The make up wasn’t easy to do. And dark lipstick is hard to remove.”

Fuck, not when he’s kissing it off…

“I…” Gulp. “Fine, princess.” He removes your hand from his face, towing you back into the living room. “Then, what do we do now? Movie?”

“Nah… It’s so hard to stop watching. Gonna kick them out again if we start now. What about… hm.”

Your eyes dart across the room, and Jungkook takes the moment to suggest, “Or we could have some soju already? Or wine, beer, whatever?”

“Or…”

You wait. Jungkook follows your gaze to the back of the room, surprised when it falls on a peeking canvas behind another big plant pot. Oh — that’s still there. He never took it out, and neither did you. Protecting his privacy, probably.

But perhaps it’s lighting a bulb over your head, because you soon ask, “Or. Wanna give me a house tour?”

“A house tour? Don’t you know every corner already?”

“Yeah but,” you shrug, rounding the couch with him in tow, “I wasn’t always here. You organised the place the way you wanted to when you moved in, so you’d know it better. Like…” You point to the turned painting, “What’s that?”

“That’s… Remember the drawing I had in my notebook? Of Gureum?”

Quite a while ago. You visited him for the first time in Namjoon’s studio back then; recalled it at the exhibit, too. Crazy how sentiments have changed. From a silly play-pretend game to damaged souls to this…

You nod.

“Yeah so,” he continues, “I painted him on a bigger surface.”

Your eyes shoot open, genuine interest in them. “Oh? Can I see?”

“Of course.”

It’s not his best work, honestly; but it is close to his heart. A piece he still wants to improve and feature in his own exhibit once it rolls around. The colouring process will be interesting; it’s barely an outline yet.

But you seem to perceive it with utter fascination and sheer joy. Because the moment Jungkook heaves the canvas up, turning it for you to see, your chin drops. You gasp, mumbling under your breath, “You’re kidding!”

“…Do you like it?”

“It’s so cute! This is…” You lean in, taking in every detail; commenting on it. “He’s a fluffball! Oh my god, the tongue peeking out. He looks so happy.” When you look up into his eyes, Jungkook’s heart does a thing; and his cheeks the other thing. “You painted him from memory?”

“Mmh, maybe a couple details? But I got most of him from a picture my aunt sent me a while ago. He’s been looking much older these days and I wanted to capture him before he ages even more. Made me miss him so much.”

“Awwh, Kook…” You pout. “I really want to meet him one day.”

He looks at you with something knowing and so telling in his gaze; he feels it unveil through his own stare. The knowledge he possesses about something, and that you don’t.

You might notice hints of it, but you don’t question it. Listening when he responds, “You will. He really is a fluffball and remembers me even after months and years of distance.”

“I love him already.” You lift, straightening your back. Watching as Jungkook sets the painting back before you add, “Okay. House tour. What else?”

“Hmm. Let’s see. Come.” He leads you the short way to the cupboard, and you follow in tiny steps, like an explorer running from one treasure to another. So exhilirated. So fucking cute. “Look, these— and don’t laugh, these are precious to me.”

“Laugh?”

“…These,” he opens the cupboard doors, reaching to the far back, behind some decoration; and pulls out a deck of cards. “Are my Yu-Gi-Oh cards. I used to collect them long ago, but I’m never throwing them away. Also—”

Your lips are parted, your eyes focused. Eyebrows shooting up gently, delighted when he takes out another small object from the back.

“My Jiraiya figure that I got for my tenth birthday.”

“Holy shit… I really never bothered looking in hidden corners.” Yeah… but now that you are, you’re making this place your own, too. No, it already is yours, the way he is. He swoons at the thought. “This is so cool. Why would I laugh?!”

“Ah… Were you a Naruto fan?”

You tilt your head. “A little. More into Detective Conan, though.”

Jungkook wonders… How foolish might his smile be looking right now?

“You… keep surprising me, angel,” he says — and you seem to like the praise.

Because you light up, forefinger touching his chest as you reiterate, “See? The house tour wasn’t a bad idea at all! Look at us tracking back the path of our souls, too.”

Jungkook can’t help but chuckle. You’re a breath of fresh air to be around; so incredibly tender when you’re yourself. After all those weeks, you’re finally back to who he used to know. Not as sad anymore.

Never sick of the hand-holding, he grips your palm again, voice hushed when he orders, “Follow me, quick!” The mysterious journey leads you to the closet next; back to the quiet bedroom as he playfully shushes you. “I haven’t worn them in a long time, so you won’t know, but… Look, because the secret's out.”

You crane your neck to see what he’s referring to. And when you do, you coo and laugh straight away. Endlessly enraptured when he claims, “Wahh. They were my super-favourites.”

Iron Man socks. Obviously worn a hundred times; so, so him.

His bunny teeth flash in all their glory when he smiles, dimples out and corners of his eyes crinkly. He feels you hold his hand tighter, and you pick the most supportive tone when you say, “You need to start wearing them again! It’s so sweet when you’re geeky.”

“Maybe you’re right.” He stuffs them back, though not to the very bottom anymore; places them on top for easy access. And then, he continues, “Okay. One more thing for the glorious house tour, and we’re done. It’s another important sight, actually.”

“Ah. Oh?”

Barely a couple seconds later, you’re back to where the trip started. Following suit when he kneels near the table; swift beam spreading over your face when he clears his throat and narrates, “This… Is where I painted on you. Not on another medium, but I painted on you. Remember?”

You must. He rarely abandons paper and his usual colours like that; but you were the most marvellous masterpiece he ever covered. The most outstanding canvas he’s ever drawn on…

“I do.”

Your gaze falls sideways; are you remembering the same heart on your waist that he does? And how he touched it; smeared it under the shower water. How your back pressed into his chest, unknown what feelings you truly harboured, but never failing to showcase his own care to you.

The kisses on your shoulder. The whispers in your ears. The plea for you to stay.

“Of course I do. It was so calming,” you add, “and so beautiful.” You touch the soft carpet, plucking at its tiny fibres. “You consider it a sight at Jeon manor?”

He snickers at your choice of words, but then inhales, and very sternly says, “Yeah. We also had sex here, so it’s forever tainted. I remember it felt… like… we should do it ag—”

“Now it’s you saying these things!” You move a fist to his bicep, pushing against it lightly. “Be serious. Be romantic! It’s not the time to make me want you.”

“Oof, hey… For the record, I was being romantic! And also, I only want you more when you’re being sweet,” he rubs the spot you grazed; he barely felt it, “but seriously. I still remember everything I felt for you. And how crazy you drove me… and how vulnerable you were.”

You’re still stroking the fur of the carpet as you look into his eyes; and he sees a molten puddle in yours. Only one side of your lips lifts, but the softness in your voice is genuine, “I think I still am. Just a lot safer than before.”

“…Good. Me too.”

And that’s all.

That’s all his mind comes up with, because all the words and infatuation are locked in his heart, moving to his fingertips when he inches closer. He raises them to your chin. Knees near yours and close the yawning distance until your lips are a whisker away.

Funny — how his strong chest holds a feeble heart. Bursting and aching, full and yearning.

If he could, he’d stay here with you forever, just like that.

But. The two of you have a party to host.

And the suddenly ringing phone reminds you of it. Makes you flinch until your noses and foreheads touch, and you laugh, rubbing them as you tap the couch for the device. The two of you lean against the sofa, cosy on the carpet as you pick up.

He hears Eun’s voice announce through the phone, “We’re all here. Just a warning, because you better not be naked.”

You shoot a glance toward Jungkook. He snorts, and you start, “Why would we…”

“‘Cause we’re early for once. Taehyung didn’t need as much time with his hair today. So be prepared.”

Jungkook nods in confirmation. Taehyung usually needs to be told an earlier time when invited to an event or get-together.

There are sounds in the background, and he readies himself to register another voice. But not a second later, the doorbell chimes. Guess the two of you will have to wait with the bare devotion.

Because for now, it’s time to indulge the gang. Let them stream in with vibrant greetings, wrapped gifts, endless booze and sweets as irresistible as you.

Jimin is the only guest coming in a little later, rushing straight from his shift. And Jungkook recognises quickly that he’s not Jimin’s first pick for conversation after a timid handshake and parting of ways.

There’s no enmity between them; Jungkook reckons it’s more the awkwardness from the Blue Night still lingering between Jimin and him. Maybe even some leftover guilt about how he used to perceive the younger man.

At least, it’s strange when he, eventually, does take a seat on the couch, separated from Jungkook only by a healing Yoongi. You’re busy talking to Eun, and Taehyung has escaped to the bathroom. Yoongi maintains a healthy atmosphere with casual talks and soft jokes.

But even if somewhat reluctantly, it seems that Jimin is at least trying when he leans back on the couch, enabling a better view to Jungkook as he asks, “Did you paint that one?”

Jungkook follows the finger pointing at the wall next to the window; nothing too out of the ordinary. Just colourful flowers. It’s okay. Better this than nothing to warm up to each other.

Turning on the couch, Jungkook waves a hand in denial as he explains, “Ah, no, no. She bought it because she thought it’s cute.”

“But you could paint that, too,” Yoongi argues, followed by Jungkook’s shy, “I guess.”

“Ohh, okay, okay. Well, since we’re talking about it. Even if you didn’t paint it,” Jimin says, “been wanting to tell you that I loved your exhibit stuff. Uhm, Eun showed me pictures. Hope that’s okay.”

That’s surprising. Jungkook considers himself gifted in this sense, but— having someone actually boast about his work for him makes him feel… accomplished? Appreciated.

No wonder you hold your friends in such high regard.

“Yeah! Of course. Thank you, Jimin.”

“It’s a pretty place, by the way.”

Yoongi wiggles a finger back and forth with an agreeing nod, snacking away, a quiet listener for the time being. There’s something amusing about it; makes Jungkook smile as he tells Jimin, “Thanks. And I’m glad you could come. Can imagine work’s a lot, so…”

“Yeah. No worries. Everything for our girl.”

Jungkook hums as the chat dies and the awkwardness returns. And then, he remembers—

Speaking of — where are you again? Still in the kitchen? Seems so. Or at least, moving away from it bit by bit.

Immersed in a conversation, holding the frame of the living room door, at the threshold to the anteroom. You’re discussing something with Eun, your expression focused. He can’t really make out your words because of those exchanged between Jimin and Yoongi, but…

A moment later, you do look at him. And then away again immediately — as if he caught you. A motion of your hand waves whatever cryptic topic off; and intrigued, Jungkook comes to a stand.

In vain — because Taehyung returns the same moment, babbling about whatever Yoongi just said. And you use the opportunity to march into the room, asking Jungkook to help you set the table for dinner.

To his chagrin, most of them offer to help momentarily. Taehyung swarms around you, insisting on plating, making it impossible for Jungkook to find a moment to ask what your conversation was about. And eventually, he gives up — if it’s important, you’ll tell him.

So for now, he relishes the evening your friends grant the two of you. They compliment the food, narrate short and long stories, watching Jungkook and you unwrap the gifts — board games from Jimin, cutting boards and wine from Yoongi, a stylish, modern thermostat from Taehyung and Eun.

The ecstasy overflows, the screeches probably making your neighbours think of you unhinged. Wine spills on the table; curses exchange; laughing turns into crying.

If anything other than this life is considered good, then Jungkook doesn’t crave that goodness. The unbridled chuckles, and your never-dropping smile are beyond everything twinkling and gorgeous already.

And he’s happy, too. Elated when you cover your mouth when you laugh; and overjoyed when you stand at the window after dinner, leaning forward. Breathing in the autumn air.

Jungkook follows once things wind down and the guests agree upon an appropriate volume. He mimics your stance, lower arms on the windowsill and hands hanging relaxed.

His fingers graze the withering flowers in the window box. They’re slowly dying by the hands of the approaching cold, and the rain keeps overwatering them. Yet… they still let it hurt them, holding on for as long as possible.

So in love with the shower.

It’s almost a bit tragic.

Jungkook refocuses, turning to you and asks, “What are you doing?”

Your head moves to the side, and you kill the remaining distance between you. Step close until you’re nearly nudging his elbow.

“Just,” you nod into a haphazard direction; into the outside world, “looking at the rain. Got a bit stifling in there.”

“Yeah.” Jungkook throws a glance over his shoulder. “Also, I think they’re getting drunk.”

“Mhmmm. Except Jimin. Poor him is looking at the alcohol so longingly. Did you notice that he didn’t drink?”

“Someone has to drive them home, and Yoongi with his healing injury is out. I offered, but Jimin insisted on taking care of them and not, as he said, bothering us. Super thoughtful, really.”

You smile, nodding along before you silence. He doesn’t know what you’re thinking of; or what you’re seeing. Maybe you’re truly only revelling in the rain; contrasting it with the sunshine you radiate.

Maybe he should look for a rainbow somewhere.

In the midst of the tranquil evening, your gape strays from the drizzle with a blink. It descends to his twirling thumbs, and then moves along the length of his arm. Jungkook notices your attention from the side, but only turns to look at you when he realises what you’ve fixated on.

You gesture towards the hues and outlines on his skin, delicately touching the writhing snake as you say, “Want a tour for them, too, if you’d ever allow. I imagine it could be fun.”

“Tattoo tracing?” His lips move into an endeared smile; you look so fascinated. Like you’re seeing them for the first time. “I’d be down. I could even…” His fingers journey to yours, gently leading them to the flowers. “I can even give you a sneak peek.”

“Really?”

“Sure. Look.” He guides your touch over the dazzling orange of his tiger lily. “This is me. Tiger lilies beg for love. I’ve always sought love, too.”

Your eyes change. He knows you see it, too — the urge to never be abandoned again, all the time.

He can nearly see your heart ache. And feels his own thump a thousand miles a second. A fraction of it breaks off and jumps into your chest, making it yours; it does it all the damn time until you hold the entirety of it in the palm of your hands.

Unhurried, he steers your finger further, stopping at the blue tint; clearly hears you draw a breath when he tells you, “And this… This is my girlfriend. She’s even prettier in real life… that’s right.”

For a bit, you’re speechless. Jungkook keeps admiring you in the forget-me-nots for another second, and when you don’t speak on, he meets your eyes. You’re shaking your head, and then — slowly wrapping an arm around his, moving close, head on his shoulder.

From this angle, your cheeks are demanding to be squeezed; eyelashes kiss them softly, your lips tempting curves when you laugh. Jungkook doesn’t get enough of you… and you don’t want to make it easier for him either.

Because, “Shit,” you say, “you were right about pining more when someone’s being romantic. ‘Cause you’re making me want you so bad, in every way. Are you… still up for kissing me stupid?”

“Ahh… babe.”

“I just… You excite me, too, you know?”

“Don’t say these things while they’re here, baby,” he warns, although as tenderly as anyhow possible, “you’ll give me a heart attack, I mean it.”

“Now you know how I feel all the time!” you tease, fingers flicking raindrops into his face out of nowhere.

Jungkook recoils and squirms, taken aback, but it takes him a mere second to play along. He gathers rain in his palms, threatening to toss it into your face; bickering chaos at the open living room window until your damp hands rejoin and delicate digits interlace.

And as he looks at the sad flowers again, the reality of the moment makes him think. How the two of you used to resemble the blossoms in your window box, once enduring the incessant melancholy, too.

Much like the flowers towards the downpour, Jungkook and you reached for each other while being watered by gloom — but unlike the flowers, you’re still sprouting and thriving into something vivid and fragrant. Not beaten by the agonising shower.

The rain hurt me, but I wanted to keep fighting. Because I hoped. Because I adored.

And in the end, him and you aren’t tragic like them. You will never wither — only bloom.

An hour later, the apartment is empty.

You opened all the windows to eliminate the suffocating air; and the hot water running in the sink soothes your cold skin. What a relief to watch the clinking dishes lessen; you sigh at the small amount still left, and Jungkook catches it immediately.

“See?” he teases, loading the dishwasher. Even that seems like a task after such a day; tidying up the living room was more than enough. “Good that we did most of it during and after cooking. It’s so much even now.”

Eyes heavy, you admit, “I should learn to listen to you more.”

He clicks his tongue, skipping a response, and then, out of the blue, says, “Angel… I could get used to this.”

“To me listening to you more?”

“Yes. But no. To you being here.”

You glow up, even though you’re still facing the sink, smile a little hidden, “You need to. Because I’ll be annoying you all the time.”

“Oh, I believe you.”

You hit him with a spoon, wetting the spot a bit before handing the cutlery to him. Delivering a head tilt, he smirks. Amused before he remembers something and asks, “Hey. What were you and Eun talking about earlier?”

“Hm? When?”

“Before dinner. It looked serious.”

You halt mid-movement. Did he catch something? Maybe. But you only insist, “Nothing special. About her graduation… you know, since it’s pretty soon.”

Huh. Doesn’t seem to quite cut it.

“Mmmh. Anything else?”

You feign a thoughtful moment, as if you’ve wiped your memory clean off whatever she said to you. Then, you tell him, “Yeah. I told her how you played around with the recipe and came up with the best dinner ever. And how hot you looked doing it.”

“…You said the last bit, too?”

“No.” Jungkook blows a raspberry before comically pressing his lips into a line, eyebrows furrowing. “Don’t look at me like that, it’s not my fault. I mean, do you know how attractive is it to be among people and know that this one person is still only looking at you?”

Oh, all too well…

“I would definitely know,” he chuckles. “Shit. You’ve been testing me tonight, you know?”

“…How?”

“All those compliments and ambiguous statements.” You shrug your shoulders in apparent innocence, muttering a small, ”It’s true" before he digs, “Anyway, don’t distract me. Anything else she said?”

Perhaps you’re done playing games. And perhaps you should’ve kept doing just that; because your next answer is a much greater tease.

“…I’ll tell you about it soon enough.”

Jungkook squints, organising a plate into a free spot, playfully disgruntled, “Unfair.”

“Hang in there.”

“Alright. You’re lucky I trust you.”

Your grin is gaping wide, and he attempts his best to ignore it. But when you add an evil snicker to it, regarding him with pure mirth in your eyes, he folds, “What?”

“Nothing. You’re just so cute. You’ll keep acting like you’re digging, but still always know when to respect my decisions. Maybe the bar is low? But I find trust ridiculously attractive.” You throw a longing smile at him, bringing a damp fingertip to his cheek to poke. “And to top it off… You’re so pretty, too, and I’m just… enamoured from all sides and—”

You wait and he uses the moment to wipe his cheek on his shirt. But when you don’t speak on, he spurs you on, “…And?”

“And I want you so bad.”

The plate waiting to be set into the dishwasher drops on the counter. Jungkook stares up, regarding the ceiling with a seemingly agitated look. You don’t know what’s truly whirling in him, so you warily ponder, “…What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Jungkook turns the water off, taking the cups from your hands and placing them in the sink. He shakes his palms off the liquid, and then whispers, “Okay. Later.”

The hold around your wrist is firm, and the tug firmer. Determined, he leads you out of the kitchen, slapping a hand over the light switch; your eyes are wide when you ask, “Wait, we’re not do—”

His answer is predictable; yet, you didn’t foresee it. Because—

“Bedroom. Right now.”

THE MORNING OF THE CONFESSION

Unlike you, Jungkook has considered himself a night owl ever since he entered the bustling world of college. Settling in the city was a stirring experience, and the thrill of it, along with a girlfriend, exams and newfound friends, kept him up until the sun rose again.

He enjoyed what he did, too. Loved school, so he didn’t mind the fatigued eyes during lectures. Truly one of the handful of joys that helped rid his head of the brain fog he bestowed upon himself after each long, sleepless night.

And he was an avid participant in classes despite his sheepish persona — they shook him awake, the late afternoon workouts obliterating the rest of the exhaustion. Maybe that’s why he was so reluctant to flake out for the night, too; still energised.

But while Jungkook carried the spirit of a straight-out-of-the-high-school-freshman who disliked falling asleep early, he despised waking up at the break of day just as much.

Would groan, blinking into the sun, with no one to blame for his agitation but him. No matter how deep his fascination for his studies and how quick the fading of his initial irritation — the first few minutes of every day were pure agony.

Jungkook is still a night owl. Still wants the nights to stretch, albeit for other reasons now. But his attitude towards mornings has changed.

There’s a shift in his preferences now; you moved his universe by an inch, altered it so effortlessly. Suddenly, he doesn’t regret rising with the sun next to him. He doesn’t curse the groggy feeling anymore.

There’s a silky touch he seeks every single morning that his eyes open to, lips he follows with his own blindly. You’re a permanent presence now, air and fire to his lungs, and he feels the freshness, feels the burn whenever your fingers brush his shoulders upon waking up.

He won’t need to check in at work for a few hours still; yet, sleeping in would mean losing the minutes that you’re still here before walking out the door until the evening.

He’ll sacrifice a slumber for this. Voluntarily.

And it’s crazy how none of this requires any sort of effort or pleading from your side. How all you need to do is to breathe and talk and smile and stay.

Those extra moments, no matter how fleeting, grant him a little more time on Earth with you, and he grasps it greedily. Even when you spend it teasing the hell out of him. Or, even when you wake up with scorching cheeks and endearing, high pitched complaints.

Like today.

“I still can’t believe yesterday,” you say.

“It’s okay.”

“I embarrassed myself so hard. Thinking about it, can I really show my face at the wedding? I’ll probably make things worse.”

Jungkook keeps glancing at the back of your head, the loose bun shaking with your movement. Smoothly, his fingers trace up and down your back; a gesture he started randomly and continued the moment you mumbled, “I like it… continue?”

Sat between his legs, you’ve been swaying for a while, both uneasy and amped about the approaching event. And to Jungkook, it’s as sweet as it is frustrating to see your brain fuming like that.

“Come here, baby,” he demands, content when you reverse into him. He wraps his arms around your chest, pulling you to his body, and presses a pillowy kiss to your temple. “You’re overthinking again. I promise you, we’ll make sure you have the most fun.”

“I embarrassed myself so hard,” you repeat, and Jungkook kisses his teeth.

“You’re a clown, I’ll admit,” you whine his name, and he laughs, “but I’m telling you. I know my mom and that was her I-like-you voice. Which I didn’t doubt for a second, by the way. Like, she really seems happy with how my life has turned out, and with whom. As am I. Understand?”

One more kiss to your scalp. He swings you from side to side, ignoring the ticking of the clock. In a few, you’ll be leaving the apartment, and Jungkook will need to kill the hours until he joins Namjoon at work.

He shouldn’t be missing you already; but he still holds you tighter. Tighter until you let out a little groan, a hand on his arm. He can’t read your thoughts or decipher whether his promise helped; because you don’t answer yet.

Only wait for a few seconds, allowing him to wallow in your warmth until you call, “…Jungkook.”

“Mhh?”

“Talking about life and stuff… did you always imagine yours to be like this? Just curious.”

“Like this?” he ponders, mentally intertwining every current branch of his life into one healthily growing tree. He’s liking it. “Well… I graduated. An exhibition ahead that’ll hopefully bring me a step closer to my own studio and profession.”

You hum in pride, tapping his arm as an affectionate reward. He continues, “I do what I love, have some great friends… and I get to spend my days with my favourite person? Doesn’t sound too bad to me.”

You crane your neck to look at him; your lips are so close to his, tilted into a smile that’s so unbelievably you. “You called me that last night, too.”

“Huh? Oh, that’s right. And… I mean it. Like. Now that you’re here, it’s even clearer somehow?”

“…How so?”

“Mmh… whenever I used to get home, I’d think of what to eat and of showering and going to sleep. And when I come home now, the first thing I think of is you. What we’d cook tonight. Or what we might watch or talk about. You’re…”

He feels your chest rise under his limbs; a sigh of fondness as he knows it best.

“You’re the one I want to spend all my time with.” He pauses when you look at your blanket-covered lap, hiding your twinkling eyes. “So it’s clear.”

“You always sound so hopelessly…”

You halt mid-sentence, the touch against your arm tensing — much like his own heart, jumping to the next beat with a heavy thud. You shake your head; Jungkook doesn’t get to dwell in further thoughts… still doesn’t have the words for them yet.

Or doesn’t want to admit them yet.

If he thought about them long enough and arrived at a conclusion, would you think he’s rushing your relationship? Would it scare you?

Better not find out yet.

So he lets you talk and listens, “Anyway. So, is there anything, like… more? That you want to achieve someday? Or that you think of sometimes before you go, that’s still left for me to do.”

How fitting.

Pretending to be sinking into thoughts, Jungkook hums, letting his chest vibrate against your back, and then answers truthfully, “Yeah? Maybe a couple things. We’ll see them with time when I gather the courage to tackle them.”

“Like what?”

“Hmm… am I allowed to say that already?” More simulations, teasing you with a fake distant gaze and a hissing inhale of air. “I’m not sure. You’ll know.”

“Hey! That makes me nervous.”

“No need.” You interrupt his speech with another sound of disapproval, pulling a dorky, infectious chortle out of him; his nose scrunches up. “I’m kidding. I’m talking about all the goals I have for my career. I don’t want to stop, no matter what. Keep going and keep striving for more.”

You nod; someone as hard-working as you would understand. In a sense, you’re a role model to him, too — a sentiment that you, as you have often emphasised, reciprocate.

Yet, you advise, “Just don’t overwork. Think of Icarus! We can’t always get more than more, you know? There’s happiness in satisfaction with what we have, too. But either way…” You angle your legs, pulling them close; cuddling into him more. “I’ve got your back.”

And perhaps that’s one of the gazillion traits he cherishes so much about you.

Your position at work is reputable and treasured, and you could easily push him to work harder, too. Could want him to match your career success, because it’s more or less guaranteed for you.

But you don’t. You stand by his side, prioritising his happiness and mental strength, albeit unaware of how his future might turn out. When you say you’ve got his back, he believes you.

“I know,” he says, lips in your hair, breathing you in. “Yeah… I know.”

“Hmmm… okay,” you move on, “what about me? Do you have any expectations? Certain standards and rules? I just,” you reach forward, tugging the blanket over your chest and his arm, “I feel like that’s something one should talk about. Tell me if it’s too much, though.”

“No, you’re right. But honestly? Is it… is it weird to say that you’ve kinda become a standard?”

“…I— What do you mean?”

“I just mean that… I’m never going to tell you that I expect you to be loyal and kind because it’s the bare minimum, right? Who doesn’t want all that? I know you are, so I don’t need to say it. So I don’t have any other expectations from you; these things are already the foundation of our relationship. Just. Mmh, how do I say it?”

He thinks for a moment, but you’re nodding, as if you’ve already understood. But his thoughts don’t end here; they’re just difficult to word. In his mind, they’re clear, but upon having to express them, he doesn’t quite understand the concept of language anymore.

Curses its limitations.

But then, as emotions gingerly gather to a coherent sentence at last, he tries to explain:

“Rather than adhering to any rules or standards I could have, I feel like you’re building them for me. You make me have a type, you know?” He feels you dissolve in his arms as he taps between your clavicles. “And that’s you. I don’t want anyone if I can’t have you.”

Did he go off track? Possibly. But you don’t seem to mind.

Because your voice is painfully sweet and miniscule when you speak, on the brink of losing the fight against the tremble, “But you have me. Pinky promise that you do, for a long, long time.”

Yeah… yeah, he does. And he’d be damned if he let this go.

Because if he ever did — if he ever so foolishly lost you again after combating these cruel storms, you’d still remain his standard. He’d look for you in each face passing, and in every laugh sounding.

The blueprint. And an everlasting memory.

Does it make sense? He doesn’t know.

And it doesn’t matter anyway. You’re right here.

“I’ll take your pinky promises,” he says, overjoyed as he crosses his legs over your shins, peppering more kisses onto your cheeks, the corner of your eyes, on your ear. He speaks in between your sighs and quiet laughs, “What about you? What do you want?”

“I… I don’t think I’ve ever had any expectations either, but. The wedding and—” You hesitate, as if considering dropping whatever you were going to list; and then you start anew, “The wedding made me think, and I— I just want to have so much fun with you.”

“Yeah? Tell me about it.”

“I want all the ordinary things we do to feel special because it’s us doing them. And I don’t ever want us to regret anything, so… I want us to be brave.”

“Brave? Well, you’re already the strongest and bravest person I know.”

“Braver. I want to live without restraints. And I don’t want to overthink anymore.”

Hmm…

Jungkook has seen your jumbled up thoughts before. The pain you cause to your mind sometimes, and the zoned out eyes painting pictures of what you fear the most.

He knows that feeling. Has battled one too many beasts to lessen the ache; even if it’s not always possible. Even if he seeks reassurances sometimes, too. And maybe that’s the prominent and sole reason why he never dismisses your disquiet.

Why push you away if you’re already at an impasse? Why not lead you out of the maze?

“Take it easy, okay?” he soothes, letting his grip around you fall bit by bit to search for your fingers instead. “Restraints can’t beat us.”

“Yeah! I’m hopeful.”

“You should be.” Because thinking of all you’ve fought within the span of a couple weeks… “You’re the first person to show me that there’s no reason to be scared, you know?”

“Then…” You sit up, curling your fingers around his hand, lifting it mid-air in sudden eagerness. “Just imagine how life could go, right? We could go to the ocean. Oh.” You gasp, sucking in air. “Oh my god! The Great Barrier Reef!”

“Ohhh, that’s actually a solid bucket list item. And then, bungee jumping?”

You nod zealously; lacking your fingers’ mobility required to list things, you instead knock your intertwined hands against your thigh each time to come up with something new. Like now, “Cliffs. And northern lights, too. I’ve always wanted to see them.”

Reflexively, you look up.

Stare at the glued-on stars from last night, and the now missing projection you dozed off to. An effective visual lullaby; you didn’t even stir when Jungkook turned it off, tucking you in properly. In your blanket; in him.

“Hell yes,” Jungkook confirms.

“But the first stop’s your hometown… and the wedding. I want to meet your family and be super awkward about it.”

Jungkook laughs, forehead falling forward against your head. He shakes it for a second, and then recalls, “Ah… so chickens and family awkwardness. What else?”

He didn’t expect this to work out before he asked you. Considering you’ve barely started at Novaura, he anticipated gentle rejection. But now that it’s become a certain event in the incredibly near future, his heart pounds every time you mention it.

Because…

You in a dress. You in his house. You, dominating over every single heart that’s dear to him.

And it seems you’ve already thoroughly thought about this, because your answer shoots out of you like a bullet, “Wanna dance with you. And kiss you under the lights.”

“Angel… you’re over the moon about this, aren’t you?”

“…Too obvious?”

You allow a fleeting glance back to him before your eyes fall down to his bare arm, ending in a hand clinging to yours; covered in ink, much like the rest of his right limb. He knows you’re staring at the flowers without asking.

And as if knowing, reading your soul, he doesn’t find himself surprised when you suggest, “And then… one day… What do you think? Should I get a tattoo someday, too?”

“Totally, if that’s what you want. What would you wanna get?”

“Flowers to match? I don’t know. Maybe you can draw on me. Here,” you lead his hand to your thigh, sticking there for a while until you move up to your hip. “Or here.”

He wonders how focused your thoughts are right now. Because if they are, and you’re not fixating on the changes of his skin, you probably won’t register the countless goosebumps under his tattoos.

A giddy sensation spreads throughout his body, collecting in his chest and tummy. Memories of a nearly bare body, painted in his dozen colours returning. And then, pictures of the same hues blurring, smudging.

He breathes an exhale, insane at the thought of kissing those lines. Of lips trailing up your skin, stopping at your hip, dying a pleasant death.

Fuck.

“I… I would. I’ll paint you any day.”

His words come out more airy than intended, fingers itching to pinch your chin, to move your face to his. To slide down the mattress, to kiss your lips swollen, making out with you until the sun sets…

But the world is cruel and too real; the clock still ticks until he realises that freezing in place isn’t an option right now. So he says, “As much as I hate to say this… You should get ready for work.”

You groan; there’s something sweet about your unwillingness to go. Relatable. And it sticks until the exhaustion washes away with each second. Small breakfast in, clothes on, newfound work spirit restored.

Must be a good day approaching.

And you’ve been enjoying the recent ones, he assumes. Despite being so good at what you do, there’s a clear difference in how you tackle a day at Charmante versus at Novaura.

And you confirm it when he accompanies you to the entrance, bidding you goodbye until you meet again later, “What I love most about Novaura is that they don’t feel the need to communicate everything with Mom. They’re their own independent world and trust themselves.”

“Right… You as someone equally independent will fit right in, so they’re lucky to have you there. Makes me wonder, though.” Jungkook pauses, watching you grab your jacket from the wall hook, “Are your Charmante people okay with you being at Novaura so much?”

A COUPLE DAYS LATER

“…I really don’t know if I can do this.”

Well, shit. Wasn’t he ready to strive for more, run endlessly until his feet tired? Where is the dread suddenly emerging from?

Jungkook has barely set his sketchbook down when lightning bolts head for him.

Countering his concern with kissing eyebrows, Namjoon’s full lips purse, dimples gone as he wonders, “What are you even talking about?” — Much at the same time as you utter a threatening, “Shut up,” pastry lifted, ready to throw at him.

Jungkook shies away from the table, ready to dodge your attack; returning when you place the crumbly croissant back on your plate. He presses his lips together before smacking and kissing them, finger rolling the pen over his sketches, but eyes fixated on Namjoon’s notebook.

“I’m serious. There’s so much to do until November, and I… how do I get so much done?”

“But,” Namjoon knocks against the random drawing open on the table, “you already have so much to show. And you can revamp stuff from college, too. Besides, it’s okay to try your best and be scared at the same time, Jungkook! That’s part of a growing artist’s job.”

“But, are you sure I’m a growing artist?!”

Namjoon mutters something under a breath, and you add something unintelligible to the reassuring mix. Jungkook’s worried gaze remains on the rough lines of pencil on paper, teeth repeatedly nibbling his lower lip. Baring his mole.

He closes the sketchbook, staring at the golden, imprinted letters on a dark black background. He’s filled a quarter of it already; the very piece you gifted him for his birthday almost a month ago.

In some way, opening to a blank page serves as inspiration alone. You furnished him with something so simple yet gorgeous; thoughtful engraving to use as a reminder to hold onto his efforts.

But…

Amidst the lasting zeal, he’s been racking his brain. Because. What if he immerses himself in this, spending hours tainting his fingertips in different tints — only to steer towards failure?

What if it doesn’t work out? And he ends up not amounting to much, other than trying his luck online and living on a bare minimum of a salary? Would he start tutoring young, aspiring artists?

And you…

You’re diving into a stable job, well-paid, well-known. If you end up carrying both of you on your shoulders… would you think of him as a washout? Grow frustrated and dissatisfied?

You’ve been repeatedly declaring your unswerving support, but what if you some day do realise that…

Ugh.

He stuck to this passion with the full knowledge he would never fall out of love with it; but now that he’s working for his dreams, the process seems so scary all of a sudden.

“And I’m at the wedding, too…” he says.

He leans back in his chair, moving his pupils away from the paper and instinctively up to you. More concerns threaten to tumble off the tip of his tongue, but when your eyes suddenly flicker with disappointment, his lips shut again.

You blink, unsure, before you ask, “Do you… not want to go? We could totally stay here if you need the time.”

Oh…

Hadn’t you gushed about the event day in, day out now, he would’ve maybe believed your words. And in some sense, you probably do think of the alternative as okay, as long as he profits from it.

But he sees it in your eyes. And not just in yours — he’s been as enthralled by the idea as you. Which is why…

��No,” he responds, “no. We will go.”

Because the prospect of winding down with you has been keeping him sane. Doting on you under the countryside stars, showing you all you haven’t seen before, body to body dancing with you…

He’s not missing out on that, no matter what.

And god knows you need the break, too… especially after the utter hysteria last Friday…

“Kook, think about it. You need to be absolutely sure,” you argue, genuine worry in your gaze; from his side eye, he sees Namjoon nod in confirmation.

“I am. We’ll go, baby, okay?”

You don’t avert your gaze; your mouth closes a little, but you stay unblinking, waiting for his mind to change. He knows because he sees the thoughts floating at the surface of your eyes.

Like you’re still pondering; of course you are. As someone who’s been working hard for their career, even if just for a few months, you’d know. Who’d understand if not you?

The trance lingers between the two of you, and Jungkook lifts his lips, a vow and certainty in his smile. Moment only broken when Namjoon clears his throat and encourages once more, “Give it a shot, Jungkook… Those high-profile people need to see what you’re capable of! I mean, we’re so lucky to have them coming to our exhibits.”

Namjoon gestures randomly, across the small restaurant as he says, “Say what you will about this city, but we lure in quite a few esteemed artists for sure.”

“Who says something about this city?” you ask.

“I do,” Namjoon’s voice is soothing. One thing Jungkook has learned about him is that his flowery mind never rests. Lyrical; not always easy to understand. “I love and hate it. Leaving it, living it.”

He pauses, sipping on his diet coke before smacking the taste away and ordering, “Ask me anytime if you need any help, alright? And be confident.”

“And… what if it does work?”

Your gentle laugh sounds from the opposite side of the table, the straw of your milkshake on your tongue. The rhythmic melody calms something deep in him; perhaps more because he understands your reaction.

You’re just as cute worrying about things that he knows you’d ace.

“Well,” Namjoon starts, aware that Jungkook knows; still annihilating his unease, “the guy is ready to buy your art. If it goes well, he’ll sponsor you. Then, at some point, you’ll be able to afford your own studio and grow as an artist. Ideally.”

“Ah… ah, really…”

”Kookie,” your voice calls; you lean over the round table, shoving the milkshake aside, “don’t worry. And in the most unlikely case that it doesn’t go as planned, know that I’ll cheer you on either way.”

“And me too,” Namjoon raises a hand.

Your finger swings to and fro between Namjoon and you, and your expression changes from empathic and soft to the sweetest, most gut-wrenching smile he’s ever seen. The apples of your cheeks lift, pupils sparkling when you vow, “We’re here for you.”

He…

He could look at you all day, blinking be damned. Could pour out his emotions every second of every minute of every hour, and it’d still not match the endless letter his heart keeps crafting for you.

Disregarding how much of a shipwreck the two of you were last Friday, his chest has still lightened ever since; an epiphany has never been sweeter.

Because…

The words he couldn’t compose into a poem before are now an ardent confession, with rhymes and a melody and infinite beauty. Roaming his mind nonstop, caught in that baby pink bubble.

When had his senses last heightened this much?

Because somehow, he still feels the damp trail of tears he cried that night. And the heart that beat against your cheek. You, frozen against him, processing his words.

If there are ways to make him fall in love harder, you’ve been presenting them all the goddamn time.

And fuck, it’s been hard focusing on anything but you.

Like, on paying. Or on upholding a conversation with Namjoon — assuring him he’d be back in the studio in a bit as he prepares to bid you goodbye for the day.

To his chagrin, the walk to your car isn’t long. It’s parked at a corner, convenient for lunch dates like these; you promised you’d join one with Joon at some point, and you did. Forty-five minutes passed too quickly. Felt like a moment.

“Namjoon is so nice!” you comment, hands in the pockets of your denim jacket.

You keep swaying back and forth, from your heels to your toes and back. Your smile and movements suggest a free spirit, but your risen shoulders and the shallow crease between your eyebrows drench you in something tense.

You’ve been like that since you suggested staying, focusing on his work.

“He’s so wise, too, really,” Jungkook responds, close to you in case your swinging moves leave you tumbling, “like, a cool mix between calm and dorky. I’ve been learning so much from him.”

“Jeon Jungkook and his love for his mentor. You will never stop talking about him.”

Jungkook shrugs, a hand to the nape of his neck, face warming, “He’s cool, what can I say?”

“Yeah.”

And once again… he sees you gulp. Unsure, pupils flickering. You usually don’t struggle maintaining eye contact. So he soon wonders, “Are you okay? I… I hope you didn’t misunderstand what I said earlier. I really do want to go to the wedding.”

“Hm?” you voice, chin lifting a bit before you dispute, “Oh. No, I believe you. If you say it’s okay, then that’s how it is.”

“What then?”

“What do you mean? Do I really seem like something’s up?”

“A little.”

“Uhm…”

You roll up your eyes as you dig into your thoughts. Scouring your brain for whatever might be meandering in the back of your mind. Hm… seems you’re not fully cognisant of the subtle change in your behaviour, either?

So maybe, it means nothing after all.

Then again. It must be something.

Because in hindsight, he didn’t only notice today, but all weekend, too—

Oh…

Maybe you’re just getting used to the new developments; maybe they’re just making you a bit bashful like him. Maybe…

Okay. Deep breath. He just needs to make it sound like a joke, nothing pushy or odd or awkward because—

“Or is it because I told you I love you? Have I scared you off already?”

He watches your breathing stop. As though flexing an x-ray stare, watching your lungs dry up, air stuck in your throat until it escapes through your nose. Honestly… he’s been feeling the same.

“No!” you answer, tone breathy, pulling a hand out of the pocket to sprightly push at his shoulder. He barely budges. “Of course not. All that does is make me want to faint.”

Jungkook chuckles, delighted when your laugh matches his own. He doesn’t always know how to take a compliment either; but you fix your speechlessness with that glow on your face. Fills his own body with fairy dust, too.

His dimples are valleys when your fingers move to his open jacket, grazing the zipper and filling the seconds with quiet tenderness. He doesn’t know what to say to you until you let the silence prolong and then giggle into it once more.

If he could just dive into your brain. But all he has are his own, messy thoughts.

And those tangled thoughts say—

“Angel… Can I kiss you?” Now his lungs are collapsing, too. Worse, so much worse when you look into his eyes, still so surprised at every sliver of affection he signs. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

No… he needs to. Needs to blossom in this breezy weather. But he won’t tell you that.

He’ll just keep looking at you. One second, two seconds — until you’ve raised your hands to the collar of his jacket to move him closer, soon sneaking your touch further up to his neck. A miniscule and wordless hint of approval, and he basks in it avidly.

Twitching palms hesitate for only the subtlest of moments before they’ve dashed up to your cheeks, cupping your face and leaning in and…

Lock.

A picture of a lock. And of its key.

The first thing to flash into his mind.

Because how do his lips fit so perfectly between yours? When you touch him like this, delicate fingers caressing his jaw, how do you feel so much like a feather? And the damn way you sigh into his mouth… how you reciprocate the kiss.

He will never tire of telling you, telling himself, that you match him just like the ocean complements the shore. And it’s baffling. How perfect this feels, and how right it feels.

You do make the ordinary extraordinary.

Like a kiss that is shared a million times a day, between so, so many people. But you’re moving your lips against his. Holding onto him, tilting your head, soaking in his warmth. Going tentatively, then a bit faster, then slow again.

For the merest moments when your mouths part, you gasp, inhaling before pushing your fingers into his hair, at the back of his head. Then back against him, seeking his tongue; such soft sounds meeting his that he swears he could cry.

Cry about the shiver down his spine and the flutter in the pit of his stomach. About the world becoming a backdrop to everything in the middle of the pavement; and about how his thoughts only revolve around your shared breaths and the feeling of your warm cheeks.

Just you.

You, you, you.

Still too far away. Why do you drive him so incredibly mad?

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He loves you. He loves you.

Under a breath and against your soft pillows, he mutters your name; so airy that he barely recognises his voice. His tongue drags over your lower lip, pecking one more time before he establishes an intruding distance between you.

Your foreheads touch for a transient bit, thumb skimming your cheek. When he opens his eyes, yours are still shut, and you’re feeble in his grip. And then, he asks, “What’s wrong?”

You swallow again. Take a breath before admitting, “You’re right. There’s something I want to ask you, and I was so stupidly… nervous about it.”

“Yeah?”

“The whole gang, they… they’ve been planning something. They paid for it and all, but they’re waiting for me to give them an answer, so they know if I need to pay them back or if they should cancel or, or—”

He interrupts your ramble with a soft, “Tell me, babe.”

“Okay,” your eyelids finally open up; your gaze is so hazy when you look at him. “It’s a trip. Four days, three nights, during the wedding week.” He hasn’t said a word when you hurry to add, “But, we can leave earlier. It’s a road trip kinda thing to the mountains and the beach and. They want us there, too.”

”Oh.”

“…Yeah.”

“I… Baby.” He moves back, shaking his head. He was careful not to ruin your hair, well aware you have half a work day ahead of you; but he still brushes a strand back. “Were you and Eun talking about that two weeks ago?”

“Yeah. And Tae also said I should be the one to ask because you’d like that. But then things happened and all the stress and…”

“But… even before that. Why were you so nervous asking me about it for so long?”

“Because,” you answer, one shrug of your shoulders, “I wanted to wait and see how you feel about the exhibition and the workload. And you already have limited time because of the wedding and I didn’t want to take away more of it.”

He can’t help but beam; why does this feel… endearing? Mirrors his own thoughts when he asked you about accompanying him to the wedding.

“We really do have the same brain, don’t we?” he asks.

“You’d think we’d learn.”

You say it lightheartedly, yet gnaw on your lips. He tongues the inside of his cheek, keeping eye contact, and then queries, “There’s something else, right?”

“Ah, just.”

You look unsure, trying to make sense of your thoughts, but your uncertainty makes him uncertain, too. So he exhales before he prods, “What? What what? Is it something bad?”

“No! Just. They’ve been wanting to do this since the summer. They never talked about it to me because you and I were… you know.” You kiss your teeth, and he uses the second to whoosh away the aching memories. “But they never cancelled for us, either.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because they’d say, and I quote, ‘Just wait.’ They knew we couldn’t stay away from each other even before we did.” You laugh. “Eun told me that day in the kitchen.”

Even before you did?

Untrue. He knew he didn’t want to live without you the moment you left his apartment, tear-soaked and heartbroken.

“Okay…” he starts, “and you were worried because?”

“Because you always get so sad when I talk about the summer. Explaining the context of the trip seemed hard to me, and I didn’t want you to feel guilty.”

Oh…

Shit, man.

“You’re… ahhh… my sweet baby.” He wants to hug you to his chest and never let go. But you’re already running out of time, lunch break nearing its end, so he only grips your shoulders. “You know that it gets better after two minutes, no? Because whatever happened, I have you now.”

He flicks your chin as he has been lately; it cheers you up. Makes you smile a bit, conjures the pout away. Adding to the effect when he says, “Don’t worry so much, my love.”

Another inhale. Then, you admit, “I’m sorry. I dragged it out.”

“It’s okay.”

“So… would you come? Do you think you could take some time off work and all? I’d understand if it’s too much.”

“Hmm… Right before the wedding, isn’t it?”

“Mid-october, yes. We could leave earlier!” you reiterate, hellbent on assuring he’s not obligated to do anything. So sweet, how you scratch your head. “They’d drive on. It’s convenient because it’s all in the same week.”

“Mountains and beach, you say.”

“If you don’t like them, we can stay at the hotel and chill together.”

Shit.

His grin widens with each heartbeat; you notice, because despite your suggestions, you sound more lively now.

And yet, it’s funny you’d question all these things like this at all. Don’t you remember damp cheeks and gentle touches?

Just days ago.

How he was still trembling when you left Eun’s complex. How he stopped you before climbing into the car, much like now, mumbling a timid, “Angel…”

And then retracting when his heart combusted. Looking into your eyes, still red, his own mind filled with nervous fear before settling on, “Nothing. Let’s go home.”

Or how you cried in the living room. How you broke down, terrified he might walk away. How his breath quivered, how his head spun, how he felt like he might throw up or faint or scare you off.

The damn sickness in his stomach until he spat the hidden words for the first time. And the pounding of his heart when you responded with a mumbled, “Kook… How.”

And… how his chest constricted at everything that followed after that. Don’t you remember?

In spite of every indication he threw your way — you still worry so much.

Funny you’d be so nervous around someone who wants to see the entire world with your hand in his.

What did you call it again? Wanting to be brave.

So fucking easy with you.

“How about…” he begins, staring into anticipating eyes, hearing a storm of cheers rumble, “going shopping before we leave?”

Your demeanour changes momentarily. The unsure girl, afraid to hurt him, soon finds her way back to her foundation. You light up, a hand over your mouth; your cheeks must be hurting.

You deliver one, short jump and then pull him back in, kissing his lips once before scattering a couple more pecks next to them. He soon finds himself pushing you towards your car, forcing you back to work, but you have a thousand things to babble about.

He’s adoring all the bright stars in your eyes — now he understands how you feel when you see the same universe in his.

It’s crazy. How effort is never required from your side for him to feel that way. How you only need to breathe and talk and smile and stay.

Stay stay stay.

The word sails and wafts through his dazy thoughts like a silent prayer. Begging and begging; pleading to allow him to pour all his love on you, although he doesn’t need to ask. You always let him anyway.

And he guesses he’s using that permission thoroughly. Maybe that’s why keeps craving and burning for more; why he’s been holding you tighter these nights.

His tiger lily pressed against your heart.

*head in hands* they are so crazy for each other, pls 😭 warmth and reassurances and support and bickering literally build the foundation of their relationship and i love them sm :') for some reason the editing process knocked me out, but i still adore this one so so much, and i hope you guys did, too!! 🥺

feedback is always so so appreciated!! you guys are literally such a freaking supportive bunch and have kept this series alive for so long and i love you to death :( here's to the first one this year!! as always, please consider leaving a like, reblog (with or without feedback!), comments and spammm my inbox with everything that's on your mind hehe <3 any kind of msg makes my day!

and nowww!!!!! moving on to cmi: palette and VACAYYYY!!! mwah mwah 🤍

#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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lydiimae · 20 days

Text

Gentle

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, panic attack, fluff hehe, Anthony being the sweet husband ik he is

A.N: Hello my loves and hello dearest anon ^-^/! This one is a bit on the shorter side (2.5k words) but I had a lot of fun writing this and I hope I gave you what you wanted Nonnie. I imagine Anthony (I'M SO EXCITED TO SEE SEASON 3 MARRIED ANT AND KATE) as a protective and loving husband, who is also extremely gentle when he wants to be. Also, Infatuation pt two is in the works, for those that are eager (thank you btw <3 T-T) it should be out by next week at the latest. P.S I am planning on uploading at least twice a week hehe! Enjoy my dears! <3

Req found here <3

Marrying a Viscount was always going to be stressful, it came with responsibility. As well as a certain necessity to be perfect, at least that is the thought that nagged you. It was only a matter of time before the stress of being Anthony Bridgerton's wife caught up to you.

You had honeymooned in Edinburgh and Bath, all of the usual quiet places. He wished to make it just that, quiet and peaceful as both of you knew that would be one of the only times you would live in that blissful silence. Without worry of gossip, or rumors, or responsibilities.

Anthony also knew that you had a tendency to be anxious. Whether it be a result of how many people were present at a ball, or the rumors that tended to linger in your mind even after they slowly washed away from others. He wanted to show you the sights, and the gorgeous nature that was present in both of the cities that he had selected.

He also wished to show you the city of Bath. Take you to one of the large Roman baths, parade you around town, and wander the hills for hours on end. All lovely things that had taken your mind away from the lingering anxieties of being the new Viscountess.

It had worked marvelously, you had been the happiest he had seen you ever since you had met. You were completely in your element, especially when you were outside. It was a very loving, and freeing six months away.

Your leg jiggles as you fiddle with your gloves, looking out the window of the carriage as it rolls down the road to Aubery Hall. As soon as you had gotten back to England, your anxieties flooded back into your mind. You were already dreading what was going to happen. You and Anthony were already planning to attend a ball tomorrow, the first one of your marriage.

You hated it, you knew that people would talk, the women would glare and whisper, perhaps even confront you. You did not want to deal with it. You wished to be back in Bath, having a picnic with your husband, far away from the gossip.

You feel a hand on your knee and turn. "You have been antsy for four whole hours, my love. What is it?" He asks, moving his hand to yours and giving it a squeeze. You chew on your bottom lip and settle for resting your head on his shoulder. "I am only nervous for the ball tomorrow." You whisper.

"The ball, or the people?" He returns, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before tilting your chin up so he can look at you. You frown slightly and he gives a comforting grin. "They will talk, you know that, but none of it will matter. It is just that, talk." He murmurs before pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

"But what if... you leave and then I am alone and one of them tries to-" You begin, but he cuts you off swiftly with another kiss. A longer one, but still as sweet as before. You sigh and rest your forehead against his. "You are so much more capable than you know, Y/N. You are the perfect Viscountess and the perfect Bridgerton. None of them shall ever be able to take either of those two things away from you." He whispers.

You smile as your cheeks heat up from his speech. "You are mine, mine to protect and mine to love. I take that duty very seriously." He finishes, cupping your cheek. You lean into his touch and smile. "I love you." You whisper back and he grins. "And I love you." He returns.

Tomorrow comes all too quick, and soon you are in the large closet in your master bedroom, your maids pulling on the strings of your corset to get it to your liking. Anthony, however, waits downstairs in his study already dressed up fully for the occasion.

You had promised to try and be quick, and he knows you tried to keep that promise. He also knew that you wanted to look perfect, so he did not mind being a bit late to the ball. He wished for you to be as comfortable as you could be. After about thirty minutes of waiting, he had sent his family ahead, promising to meet them there.

He would be lying if tonight was a relaxed night for him. He was a ball of nerves, but he knew how to hide them well. He was not nervous for him, no, he was nervous for you.

He knew that you were perfect, and all of the much older and married members of the ton did as well. It was the cruel debutantes he worried about. He knew that many of them would be bitter, even if they were not interested in him. It was many women's third or fourth social season, many women would take that out on any kind soul they could find, and you were the kindest.

He downs his glass of scotch and adjusts his cravat before standing up and going to the bottom of the staircase. He wanted to see you now, and he would not wait another second. Just as he is about to call out, you appear at the top of the steps, dressed in the infamous Bridgerton blues.

The gown is a gorgeous navy blue, and you have paired it with long, white, silk gloves. Your hair is pulled back in his favorite way, an elegant pin holding it up in an elaborate bun. To tie it all together, you are wearing the diamond necklace and earrings he bought you in Edinburgh. So simple, yet so incredibly beautiful. So you.

You smile at him as you walk down the stairs and he just about dies right there. "My God, you look ethereal." He whispers as he offers you his arm. You gladly take it and he grins, pressing a kiss to your forehead before leading you to the carriage.

The driver opens the door of the carriage once the two of you arrive at Lady Danbury's grand estate. You look out at the many other women and men filing out of their carriages and feel a familiar sense of dread, causing you to gnaw on the skin on the inside of your cheek.

"Darling?" He asks after a moment and you look up, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment once you realize he has probably been holding his hand out for you for some time. "Sorry." You mumble, before taking his hand and allowing him to pull you to your feet and help you out of the carriage.

The two of you walk hand in hand into the ballroom, which is bustling with activity. However, when the Viscount and his new bride enter, all of the chattering halts. The eery silence makes you wrap your arms around one of his, the sense of dread looming over your head only getting more intense.

He notices and moves down, kissing you softly on the lips. Part of it is for show, of course, but part of it is also because he knows that it will calm your nerves down to a point where you can manage them. He just knows, always.

He pulls away. "Come on, we are going to make this boring night a good one, hm?" He murmurs. You smile gently and nod, walking deeper into the ball. You hear the whispers, the cruel words from the other women, but choose to ignore them for now.

The two of you arrive at the space on the floor where his family stands. He lets go of your arm with a kiss on your cheek and enters a conversation with Colin. You walk to Eloise, of course, and begin to speak to her about your newest literary obsession.

Anthony eventually finds himself surrounded by his friends, leaving you and Eloise to your own devices. "It is quite an interesting story, I am surprised I only found just found it." You hum as she grins. She had recommended the book Frankenstein after you had said you wished to read more of the classics. "I am surprised as well, you always struck me as a horror type of woman." She teases, bumping your shoulder. You laugh lightly as she does.

"Well, now I know that I am only to come to you for book recommendations as my husband is quite lacking in that department." You return, your eyes filled with playful affection. "Well, I could have told you that, Y/N. My brother, it seems, only likes books in the historical genre." She sighs and looks at her glass of lemonade. "I shall be right back, I am going to get more lemonade." She says and is off before you can protest.

You frown and look around for someone else to talk to, to hide behind really, as you wait. Before you can you are approached by none other than Cressida Cowper, an absolute addict to gossip. "Y/N L/N, I am surprised to see you alone. Has he grown bored of you already?" She says, tilting her head.

You wince and sigh. You knew it was coming, Cressida always had a knack for finding you when you were alone and vulnerable. Often times her insults insist on picking on your nervous demeanor, or even your kindness. The use of your maiden name, however, stung uniquely. A sign that she thought your marriage insignificant, and who knows how many others did. You can feel your breathing pick up already.

"Cressida. It is lovely to see you." You say softly, turning to face her head on. She rolls her eyes at your blatant disregard for her question. "Indeed. It is always a pleasure seeing how... dull you look. I am surprised the Viscount has not already taken a mistress, I mean, he would do well to." She sneers. "I-" You begin but she cuts you off.

"You know I am right. You are dull, Y/N. You always have been. It was a miracle you got as much attention as you did when you debuted and an even bigger miracle that you got married to Anthony. He will grow bored of you, just as everyone has." She scoffs before sauntering off to her next target.

You feel the heat of tears in your eyes and the familiar feeling of tightening in your chest. You know Cressida can be cruel, but what if she got those words from another? What if she was right? Perhaps Anthony will grow bored, perhaps he already has. The thoughts have you going into a spiral, your breathing picking up until you realize you cannot breathe anymore.

Eloise, upon noticing that Cressida had made her way over to you, rushes back. "Oh God, that woman is nothing but a jealous old spinster, Y/N." She whispers, putting her glass down and reaching out before she realizes that you are already too far gone. She takes your hand and begins to walk in search of her brother, "Hold on, Y/N. He has to be near. It will be alright." She says softly, though it does nothing to stop the state of panic you are already in.

She finds him about two minutes later, and you are already in tears. She drags you to him and spins him around. "Cressida." She whispers before leaving the two of you together. He immediately wraps his arms around you and leads you out of the ballroom to one of the balconies, whispering sweet nothings into your ear the entire way.

"Alright. Look at me, my love." He murmurs once you are outside, grabbing your hands in his and pressing them to his chest so you can feel his heartbeat. "Ready?" He whispers when your tear-filled eyes meet his and you nod.

"Alright, in..." He breathes in and you do the same, your breathing stuttering as you try your best to follow. "And out..." He whispers, exhaling with you. The two of you have gone through this many times. He had helped you when you were courting, when you were engaged, and he will help you until the end of time.

After a few moments of him guiding you, your breathing calms and you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your face into the fabric of his cravat. "What did she say, darling?" He murmurs, rubbing your back gently.

You hesitate, and he senses your apprehension. "I will not get angry with you over words that such an insignificant woman spoke, I will not cause a scene. I promise. I only wish to know before I take you back home, hm?" He whispers, gently cupping your cheeks so he can look at you.

You wait for a moment before taking a deep breath and nodding. "She said that you would grow tired of me, just like everyone else. That you would take a mistress. She said I was dull." You whisper back, your grip on his shirt tightening.

His face darkens for a moment before he pulls you back into his embrace. "She knows nothing, my love. If you were dull, I would not want to spend every waking moment of my life with you. I would not have married you if you were not perfect for me in every single way." He whispers, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

"But I... I do this so often. I get so... so anxious. I am hardly a Viscounte-" You start but he cuts you off. "You are the perfect Viscountess. Y/N," He begins, pulling back a bit so he can look at you. "I do not say that lightly. I know that it has only been a short six months since we were wed, but I am more secure in my belief that you will be the perfect Viscountess. The perfect mother, the perfect head of my house. You are the perfect woman for me and for my family. Do not doubt that ever. Especially over some silly statement a foolish, sad woman made." He says, caressing your cheeks.

Your eyes burn at his speech, and your heart flutters. You lean in and press a lingering kiss to his lips before pulling away. "I love you so very much, Anthony." You whisper.

He grins, and you swear you see the faintest of pinks spread over his cheeks. "And I love you, Viscountess Bridgerton." He whispers, pressing another kiss to your lips. "Let us go home. Lady Danbury will not miss our company I'm sure." He hums as he parts, making you nod in response.

That is just what the two of you do. After saying goodbye to his family, and to Lady Danbury, the two of you make your way to the carriage.

The rest of the night is spent in bed, speaking of the future, whispering love confessions in each other's ears, and loads of kisses. Who knew that a man who seems so brutish could be so gentle just for you?

#bridgerton fic #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton fluff #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton fanfic #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x female reader #fluff #cutie pie anthony #bridgerton

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elfven-blog · 8 months

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Hi dear‹3

Imagine Leon teasing the reader while the poor reader tries to read some book (That they won't be able to read it anymore because our kennedy will have his mouth busy)

Hello anon! Hope you enjoy, I sure did. 🤭

Like the book

Summary: You aren't paying Leon enough attention while reading your book. Leon Kennedy xF!reader CW: MDNI, 18+ only, pussy eating, distractions, you ride leons face. Word count: 1.2K

Your hand came up to cover your mouth, breath shaky as you tried to focus on the words. A gasp slipped past your lips, stopping the words you were speaking in their path as Leon lay between your thighs his hand slowly massaging at the plush skin. You hadn’t expected him to come home early, but he had been able to finish his work and come home. Where he had caught you in the process of reading one of your new books, not that he knew what kind of book it was.

The part you had just come to was one that had been building up for the last few chapters between the two leads of the story. You bit your bottom lip as you continued reading and hoped Leon hadn’t heard the gasp leaving your mouth but of course he had, his attention had been on you the entire night. You were too busy focusing on that book to notice how needy your boyfriend was, and it was starting to grate on his nerves so while you had slipped away to go grab the food earlier he had spent some time reading.

And he had some kind of understanding of what you liked about the book. It was probably helpful when he was away on his long missions. But what was more Leon, who had been wanting your attention for the last few hours, had finally thought of a way to get it. He had read ahead to this scene you were reading; he knew exactly how it was going to play out and he was ready to use this to his advantage.

So, with the tv playing some stupid show that you had on to keep Leon distracted while you were buried deep in your book, Leon started following the actions of the male lead. His hand slowly drawing up your thigh, playing with the hem of your shorts as his fingers slip below the material. You are far too engrossed in your book to realise how far your partners hands have travelled. Brow scrunches as his fingers rub at the small wet spot from the slick that had gathered while you were reading. Your squirmed at the feeling before settling down to continue reading.

Leon’s eyes were focused on your face, his fingers moving to circle at your cloth covered clit and you let another gasp as your thighs tried to close around his hand but with the way his body lay, his broad shoulders stopped you from being able to move your legs. “W-what are you doing?” your voice was a whisper as you moved the book to look down at the grinning blonde. He only moved his other hand to push your book back up.

“Getting what I want, keep reading” his hands worked your shorts and panties down, and you lifted your hips to help him. Your focus shifting from the book to watch the blonde as his head dipped between your legs. His hands moving to place your thighs over his shoulders before they meld to the soft skin of your hips. “I said keep reading” his eyes met your own, blue nearly black as he pressed a kiss to your lips. Tongue slowly circling at your clit as he watched you, before pulling away when you didn’t go back to your book.

The sight had slick dripping from your clenching hole, and you go to protest as he pulls away, all he does is motion to the book and with an annoyed grunt you bring the book back up and try to focus on the words. Leon takes the opportunity to bury his face back into your cunt, tongue lapping at your dripping hole. His hand moves from its home on your hip to rest just above your pussy so his thumb can swirl at your sensitive nub.

“That’s a good girl, just read and enjoy” the words on the page are unfocused, one of your hands moving to grasp at his hair and your hips rolled up into his mouth allowing his tongue to lick deeper into you. Leon groaned at the taste as what happens in the book slips his mind and all he can think of is drawing more of those gasps and moans in that way that causes your thighs to shake and slick to soak his face.

His favourite position is underneath you like this, his tongue lapping at your cunt and his nose rubbing at your clit. You really do try to read the book but with his tongue spreading your lips, and fucking into your fluttering hole it falls to the floor with a soft thud. Both your hands moving to press his face further into your pussy before his hands remove yours and he sits up. “Gotta better idea pretty girl, need that pussy drowning me”.

Leon manoeuvres you with ease until your hovering above him, thighs either side of his head and his hands smoothing up your thighs and sides “fuck, might just be my favourite view. Such a pretty bunny above me”. You bit your lip as you looked down at him, he could see the apprehension in your eyes and his eyebrows pinched as he frowned. His fingers drew soothing circle into your skin, his attention pulled to the way your pussy glistened, wetness dripping down your thighs.

“I just…are you sure?” Leon groaned, eyes almost rolling before he reset his grip on your hips and pulled your weight down onto him. His lips pressing wet kisses to your pussy, your mouth falling open as your hands grasped the arm of the sofa. Leons eyes lighting up from your reaction as he drinks in the way your mouth is slack and your eyes are closed with your head lolling back.

He watches you for a moment before his tongue slowly swirls at your clit, whines slipping from you as he coaxes you to rest entirely on him, his hands holding keeping you there. It doesn’t take long for you to move your hips, and Leons eyes never stray from looking at you. His tongue moving to fuck into your cunt, warm and wet against the fluttering walls as you use your hands to keep you steady while you ride his face.

Leon groans at the taste on his tongue, enjoying every moment as he watches his wife enjoy herself. This is definitely his favourite view. His hands pull you closer, fingers digging into the plush of your ass as he watches your tits bounce. And he laps at your cunt like he’s starving, his tongue fucking into your dripping hole while his nose bumps into your clit. Leon has you seeing stars as you focus on the way he feels below you.

You feel the groans vibrate through you as he continues lapping at your pussy, hips rolling against his face faster as you feel your orgasming building up. His stubble scrapes at your skin lightly, his hands pushing you further as he watches the blissed look on your face and your whines muffled from the way your thighs pillow around his head. Broad hands knead at your ass and helps you rock on his face, his tongue drinking up your slick before your thighs squeeze around his head and you fall forward with a load moan. Leon helps steady you as your orgasm washes over, still moving your hips as you ride through it.

Your legs are shaky as Leon slides himself out from under you, before his arms sweep you up and he presses a kiss to your forehead. “C’mon pretty girl, need to take you apart in the bath and on the bed after that…never gonna need a book again”.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x female reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x f!reader #resident evil x reader #leon s kennedy smut

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ggwritesstuff · 4 months

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hey!! Could you do a fic with finnick odair where r was in the blood rain during the quarter quell and is really shook up from it and finnick helps her clean up and calm down? Thanks!!!

Here Now, Here Always.

pairing: finnick odair x reader

warnings: the quarter quell blood rain, brief discussions of trauma, mostly just some finn comfort, not totally proofread

a/n: anon!! thank u so much this took me out of my writing drought :,) i made a few tweaks to the original idea but i hope u still enjoy <3

a/n pt 2: please forgive my formatting if it’s awful i haven’t had to format a post on here in a LOOONG time

It’s been years since the Quarter Quell where the blood rain incident occurred. Caught in the middle of the forest as a viscous, crimson red rained down on you; flooding the divots and lapses in the ground around you and pooling up to your calves in some areas. If it weren’t for Finnick, you would have been another victor turned fallen tribute in the sky that night. The onslaught of blood could’ve flooded and drowned you where you stood with how paralyzed your fear had rendered you. But Finnick, ever the heroic type, came to your rescue. Dodging puddles with every careful step until he reached you, hauling you over his shoulder and carrying you to the shore where he cleaned you up and calmed you down.

The rest was history. You had left that arena with Finnick who has hardly left your side since. However, you also left with the horrific image of your lover drenched in that blood rain. It still haunts you to this day. Especially when it’s raining, like it is tonight.

You’d been tossing and turning for the last hour, the drizzle against yours and Finnick’s bedroom window keeping you awake, plaguing your tired mind with the memories of that day. You felt silly being kept awake by it, unable to relax. You knew that logically, of course it was a normal rainfall. However, trauma doesn’t care much for logic. So you fumbled around in bed for what felt like hours until you felt Finnick’s side of the bed move a bit as he turned to face you.

“You okay, hon?” He asked, his voice soft yet still gruff with sleep. His large, calloused hand reached for your face, landing gently on your cheek as he stroked it with his thumb. You nodded silently to his question, and though his eyes were still bleary he could feel the motion you made.

“Rain keepin’ you up?” You nodded again. Finnick then moved to pull you closer, bringing your back flush to his chest, “S’okay, m’right here sweetheart.” He mumbled sleepily, snaking a strong arm under yours and around your waist. He was so warm against you, your own personal furnace as you’ve called him before. A personal armory of weapons couldn’t make you feel safer than you do with Finnick.

The rain continued to beat against the bedroom window, only now your eyelids were finally growing tired as you were wrapped in Finnick’s protective embrace. He was there during the blood rain. He was there for every rainfall since, comforting and assuring you that you were safe. He’s here now, and he always will be.

“Love you, Finny.” You whispered, intertwining your fingers with his own and bringing his hand to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the warm, ever tanned skin.

“Love you more, dear.” He whispered back, the feeling of his lips against the soft skin of your neck the last thing you feel before finally falling asleep.

#finnick odair comfort #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair #the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #sam claflin #gg is writing again finally

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deepestnightcolor · 29 days

Note

Hi I love your writing!! Not sure if you take requests so please ignore this if you don’t!! What if Sam and reader were dating and then reader finds out about Sam/Penny liking each other in the past so they get kinda insecure and Sam reassures them

nsjhdwj thank you so, so much! <3

It really means the world to me to hear it! :) Thank you so much for your request as well, it was absolutely LOVELY to write. I hope you will enjoy it! Have a lovely day, dear anon~ <3

(Needless to say, I do take requests >:))

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sam (SDV) x GN!Reader

ᴡᴄ: 1889 words

✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: a lil jealousy, a lil insecurity. it is mostly fluff, though. gentle kisses and all~

☾ ᴡʜɪꜱᴘᴇʀꜱ ☽

The relationship between Sam and you had begun to blossom in the fall of your first year in Pelican Town. It had all started out quite simple; playing pool with the blond and Sebastian in the saloon turned into hanging out and playing video games together. Taking turns trying hard levels bled into fleeting touches and looking at one another longer than necessarily needed; until it all ended in a chaste kiss behind near the river. It hadn’t taken Sam much longer to show up on your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers, asking you to officially be with him.

Ever since, your relationship had grown like the crops on your fields – filling your heart with a deep, comfortable feeling of contentment and calm, something no one ever had managed up until the town. However, whenever Sam walked up to you, looking at you with these deep blue eyes filled with excitement and genuine happiness and smiling at you as if you were the first warm day in spring, you felt like you were at the right place, at the right time.

However, there was gossip in town. Little whispers, really, nothing you wouldn’t have expected living in a sleepy community like this. The gossip here was nothing more than a fleeting thought that was spoken out; here one moment, gone the next.

You had always promised yourself to not let these whispers stick to you, to just smile and forget about it. And so far you had done well; the most attention you had spent on anything that wasn’t rock solid was wondering how someone would come up with something like that.

In all seriousness, you just didn’t care for it. It rolled off your back like droplets of rain rolled off your raincoat.

You didn’t think a simple visit to Pierre’s would change that. You were standing in front of one of the shelves in the far back, looking at the different seasonal seeds in stock, considering trying out something new on the fields when you heard Marnie’s voice. It was hushed as it usually was when she was gossiping. Any other day, you would have just turned back to the bags in your hand, but today, you heard your boyfriend’s name. Much to your shame, your ears perked up almost immediately, and even worse, you actually tilted your head a little to catch what Marnie was saying.

“Yes, I am surprised he didn’t end up with Ms. Penny. The crushes they had were quite obvious, even my nephew picked up on it,” she hummed.

Another voice now answered with a hum, but when they talked, you were able to identify it as Mayor Lewis’s. “Even my old eyes picked up on it! I saw them at the bridge often, and I always thought Ms. Penny just waited for him to make the first move and she would have been all his.”

Your heart sank. Sam had had a crush on Penny? You furrowed your brows as you thought back, trying to remember if you ever had picked up on anything like that. Then it hit you – they had often hung out by the bridge together, and if you were honest, you had always felt a weird tension sizzle in the air between them.

Marnie again: “It is quite a shame, really. Jas told me that Ms. Penny looks a little sad when they pick up little Vincent. I think they would have made a good couple; she could have taught him a lot, I bet.”

“And maybe he would have helped her to get out of her shell a little. I thought they were a good match as well.”

You couldn’t take any more. You stepped out from between the shelves and almost ran to the till, slamming the bags onto the counter. “Just these, please,” you smiled at Pierre, loud enough for the hushed whispers behind you to stop.

“Thanks,” you murmured after you had been rung up, fleeing the general store without as much as a look in the two chatterboxes’ direction.

You had genuinely wanted to let go of what you had heard today. After all, Sam was with you now, and he seemed genuinely happy with you. Even now in his sleep, he was looking peaceful and content; his arm stretched out towards you as usual. Whenever you and Sam slept together, he had to touch you in some way. You didn’t mind that, in fact, it usually calmed you and lulled you into a deep slumber. Tonight, it didn’t help.

You had started thinking as soon as your conversation with Sam had faded as his breathing had grown heavier; a clear sign that he was drifting off to sleep.

Had you gotten in the middle of something between Sam and Penny?

Would he maybe be better off dating her?

Would he be happier with her?

Why did he choose to be with you when there seemingly was a spark, big enough for others to notice?

Penny, in all honesty, was not only a beautiful human but had an incredible personality at that. She was a catch, no doubt. Maybe you had ruined the best relationship Sam could have ever had, because what could you offer? You were a farmer, nothing more, nothing less. Doing work many considered as nothing but simple and dirty. Whereas Penny was always clean and well-kempt: being noble enough to try and give the town’s kids the best possible education. Trying to give your boyfriend’s little brother the best possible chances, for crying out loud!

Holy shit, you had probably ruined Sam’s life, what did he even see in you?

“Babe?” a groggy voice next to you asked, making you tense up. You had been so lost in your whirlwind of thoughts that you hadn’t even realized how much you had been tossing and turning. You tried to stay still, even out your breathing. Maybe he would just go back to sleep.

But you knew Sam better than that. And just as you had expected, two strong arms slowly snaked around you, pulling you into a warm chest. Sam’s hand found your hair, long fingers running through it just mere moments later. Sam knew you, sometimes better than you knew yourself, and he knew what to do when you were nervous. And even now in your state of inner turmoil it helped; you relaxed into his arms, and for a split second, your head was quiet.

“What’s wrong, baby? Bad dream?”

That was your chance. If you said yes now, he would probably cuddle you, caressing your hair until you fell asleep. Sleep sounded nice right about now.

“Did I ruin your chances with Penny? Would you rather be with her?”

The caressing stopped, and you could feel the mattress behind you shift. Was he leaving now?

The light switched on, and before you could say something else, you saw Sam’s face hover right over yours. His rough hand was placed on your cheek now, thumb caressing the skin gently as he peered into your eyes. All sleep had vanished now, replaced by honest concern and confusion.

“Why would you think something like that?”

You bit around on your lower lip, looking away in embarrassment. “I heard Marnie and Lewis talk at Pierre’s today…They…they talked about the crush you had on Penny and the crush she had on you and how you would be a great match and how she is sad when she picks up Vincent now and-“

Noting how stupid you sounded, you stopped yourself, taking in a deep breath and not being able to stop yourself, “and it had me wondering, because I saw you hang out as well and Penny is so beautiful and kind and noble and she would have a good influence on you! And what am I, just a farmer, you have seen me in dirty clothes more often than in clean ones and-“

You looked at Sam helplessly, tears in the corner of your eyes. “And I just…Why did you choose me when you could have had her, Sam? Why didn’t you choose her? You could have…I…” The blond looked at you, patiently waiting for you to finish speaking.

Only when your stream of words had seemingly ceased did he lean in and press a soft kiss to your lips.

“Because Penny isn’t you, my love,” he murmured against the plush of your lips, looking into your eyes. His thumb was still caressing your cheek, allowing his other hand to lock together with yours.

“Yes, Penny is a good-hearted woman, and yes, I might have had a crush on her. But you touched my heart in a way no one ever has. I fell in love with you, and I mean all of you. Your eyes; the way they light up when you’re proud or happy. The way you smile and the many different smiles you have. I love every single one. I love that you get dirty every day while doing what you love. I love that you give it your all every day.”

Sam kissed your nose carefully, his eyes peering into yours again.

“I love how careful you are with everything, especially with things that are dear to you. Yoba, I love the way your breathing sounds when you are next to me, I love the way you ramble to yourself when you are working on something and think no one can hear you. I love the random sounds you make. I love seeing you. I love being around you. I love you being mine. I love you.”

Sam kissed your lips again, holding onto your face. You looked up at him with teary eyes, hiding your face in his chest. The blond laid back down, carefully pulling you on top of him. He drew random patterns onto your back; mostly hearts and clouds and little stars.

“I remember the first actual date we went on. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I was so close to just throwing up. Sebastian kept teasing me, asking me why I was nervous, I had been to the beach so often…” he kissed your head again, holding you a little tighter to his chest. “And then I saw you there. All bundled up in your winter clothes, and I asked myself why I had been so stupid to suggest a date on the beach in winter. But when you smiled at me…Shit, that was the moment I just knew that you were my one and only. And I wouldn’t want to live a life in which you weren’t.”

You sniffled a little, but smiled a little as you thought back to the date. You had, in fact, asked yourself why Sam would want to meet up at the beach in winter, but you could have never allowed yourself to pass up the opportunity.

You closed your eyes; taking in your boyfriend’s scent. He smelled like cotton and a hint of vanilla. Honestly, you found he smelled like home.

You could feel Marnie’s and Lewis’s voices quieten down, as did your worries.

Sam could feel you relax in your arms and slowly lifted your chin with two fingers.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, Sam.”

“And tomorrow I will skate on the Mayor’s property.”

“No, Sam."

#sdv #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley #stardew valley farmer #sdv fanfic #sdv sam #fanfic #sdv sam x reader #stardew valley x reader #SDV #SDV Sam #SDV Sam x reader #Stardew Valley Sam #fluff #fluffy Sam

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stinkyme · 7 months

Text

Hello! One anon on here as well as the user on AO3 asked for a Fyodor version, so I wrote it. I hope yall like it and enjoy it! :)

CW/TW: NSFW, fem!reader, jealousy (sort of), established relationship, orgasm denial, edging, clit slapping, Fyodor uses "dear" for reader at the times, slight degrading, name calling (brat, whore, dumb little thing), slight dumbification when Fyodor makes reader spell out his name while using toys on them, toys usage (dildo, clit sucker), slight dacryphilia, needy!reader, clueless!reader, reader has good intentions that come off wrong, vaginal fingering, vaginal penetration (p in v), apologizing and reassurance (reader), creampies, if I forgot anything please let me know! :)

* I made the reader to be a bit clueless, not genuinely wanting to make Fyodor jealous because I feel like if he knew the intention - he wouldn't play into it, given his issues with trusting people in general. So I think even in this writing, he is so more offended due to the "disrespect" and unaware that reader is actually trying to praise him...just in a wrong way, lol

** Also, I kinda dig the idea of bimbo/himbo/clueless reader and Fyodor ngl…. :3

I apologize for any mistakes in advance! :)

Jealousy sex || Fyodor Dostoevsky x Reader

"So, he actually got you this time?" you ask in a slightly confused tone as you sit on the empty table that was connected to the one with Fyodor's computer on it. You swing your legs a little bit as you watch him type in some things, not looking at you.

"I am afraid so. But not to worry, it will work out perfectly for me." he replies in his regular, silk-like voice, looking at you for a moment.

"Mm…" you let out as you think.

"What's his name again?" you ask, tilting your head a bit.

"Dazai Osamu." he says in a normal tone as he continues working.

"Never heard of him." you let out a disinterested tone, looking to the side for a moment.

"But he seems quite smart." you continue, reverting your gaze towards Fyodor again.

"That he is." he nods as he continues typing on a keyboard.

"He may even be able to beat you, perhaps he is smarter than you are!" you say with a bit too much enthusiasm for Fyodor's liking. He shoots you a quick, sharper gaze.

"Oh?" he lets out in a deeper, lower tone.

"Yeah! Man, now I wish I met the guy who can toy with you like this." you slap your thighs a bit, smiling at Fyodor. His face twitches in mixture of annoyance and disgust.

"Toy...with me?" he asks in a low tone.

"Duh! I mean he won, didn't he? And now look at you, gotta work so hard to keep up!" you say in an upbeat tone, leaning your body a bit backwards as you use your hands to support yourself from behind.

"He won this once and it was part of the plan-" he begins explaining to you in a calmer, more collected tone.

"Dude is a genius! Let me see his photo." you cut him off, jumping off of the table. Fyodor's eyebrows narrow in irritation, but he sighs out as he gets the file of Dazai's past. You take the paper, eyes quickly running over the unimportant information as your gaze falls back on Dazai's picture.

"Hm...his hair is a bit weird, but I like the waviness. He seems handsome! Is he also like this in real life?" you ask, excitement evident in your voice.

"I don't think that is necessary information." Fyodor says in a colder tone, furrowing his eyebrows.

"It's not, you are right. But genius who can possibly beat you and good looking! I gotta go and tell this to Nikolai and Sigma!" you say in an elevated tone as you drop the file of Fyodor's table, giving a quick kiss on his cheek.

"That's for good luck! Here is another one. You have to keep on working hard to keep up with him!" you say happily as you kiss his other cheek, quickly leaving the room afterwards. Fyodor's gaze is still irritated, but he sighs out as he has things to do. He will deal with you later.

~ That night

Fyodor slides your panties down your legs, softly caressing sides of your legs while doing so. He brushes his cold knuckles over your clit and wet inner lips, making you shiver. He begins rubbing little, slow circles on your clit with his fingertips and you let out a breathy moan as he does. He inserts two of his other fingers inside your dripping cunt, gently sliding them in and out of you. The coldness of his slender fingers sends shivers up your spine, a knot of tingles forming in your lower tummy.

You let out a few softer moans as you spread your legs more for him. Fyodor curls his fingers a bit, rubbing your sensitive spot inside as the fingertips on your clit keep the slow, almost teasing pace. You sigh out in bliss, clenching your pussy around his fingers a bit as the sweet pleasure relaxes you. You roll your hips a bit as you feel precum gliding down your sensitive walls and Fyodor lets out a chuckle upon the sensation on his own fingers. Precum just keeps on leaking down your pretty cunt as Fyodor keeps up a soft, gentle pace with both - circles on your clit and little thrusts of his fingers.

"Quite needy tonight, aren't you?" he asks in a silvery, breathy tone.

"Maybe a little bit." you respond softly with a little smile, feeling the warmth spread in waves inside your lower tummy.

"Shall I give you more then?" he leans in, slowly kissing below your chest. He trails the kisses around the area of your ribcage, covering both sides of your body in a sloppy, unhurried pace. He moves his attention to your tummy, kissing as low as he can reach in one straight line. He sneaks in a few small licks in-between the kisses as he keeps on pleasuring you with his fingers. Your cunt squeezes around him as you keep on letting soft breaths out, his cold lips making nice balance to your warm body.

"Please do." you finally reply as you nod and he speeds up the pace of his fingers inside you just for a few seconds, pressuring your g-spot and squeezing a louder moan out of your throat. He moves his fingertips away from your clit and extracts his fingers out of your pussy. Then, he quickly positions himself between your legs, gently hugging your hips and ass with his hands. He begins slowly kissing your lower tummy, moving to your inner thighs as he places a few more soft kisses on each. He gives your clit a swift, unexpected kitten lick with the tip of his cold tongue, barely touching it.

You let out a soft moan as your hips quiver for a moment. He slowly moves up, leaning away from your needy cunt. He pulls his boxers down and he strokes his cock couple of times. He lets out a thicker string of spit fall directly on his palm and he continues stroking it, a shaky whimper escaping his lips.

"I must admit, I am feeling quite needy myself, do you mind?" he asks you in a whiny, but still silky, somewhat steady tone as he aligns his cock with your entrance. He trembles upon feeling the warm precum touch the tip of his cock. You shake your head, smiling at him.

Of course you don't mind. This man has such a low libido lately that you dream of moments like these. However, you can't help but wonder what got him worked up?

Your thoughts are cut short as he makes a long, heavy thrust inside of you, his hands falling next to each side of your head. You let out a quick gasp as the tips of Fyodor's eyebrows furrow upwards, a soft, prolonged whine escaping his throat. He begins slowly thrusting in and out of you. Each stroke is long. The tip of his cock only stays inside your needy cunt before he slowly slides it back in, making sure you feel every inch until he reaches the deepest spot. Your hands find their way to Fyodor's waist, gently sliding down to his hips and back to his waist as he keeps slowly rolling his hips into yours. Fyodor lets out shaky breaths in and out, his body trembling already. Your little whimpers mix up with his sounds as you roll your hips a bit, too wet and needy to cum. You slide one of your hands away from his waist, bringing it between your legs to play with your clit.

He leans his face closer to yours, placing shaky, sloppy kisses over your jaw. His thrusts are still slow, but perfectly stimulating your g-spot. Alongside your own fingers circling on your clit, your orgasm builds up rather quickly. You feel him leaking precum inside your cunt, sending shivery tingles throughout your whole body. Your free hand moves away from his waistline, up to his chest, your fingertips pressing into it.

He keeps on kissing your jaw for a little longer before he gives attention to the side of your neck, biting into it before he starts placing soft kisses.

You let out soft whimpers more frequently as Fyodor's shaky, warm breath spreads over your skin he was just kissing. You feel your lower tummy tense up as your orgasm slowly makes its first waves. Your thighs quiver around Fyodor's slow hips and he lets out a moan into your neck as he feels your cunt clenching around him. He suddenly speeds up his movement, breaking an upcoming orgasm as he roughly thrusts in and out of you. You let out a mixture of a pleased and annoyed moan as it feels good, but your orgasm got delayed.

He moves his hand between your bodies, gently taking your wrist and pulling your hand away from your clit. He brings your hand next to your face, still holding it by its wrist.

"I let you play long enough. You know I dislike greedy brats." he whispers in your ear as he begins slamming his hips into yours even faster, his cock relentlessly stimulating your sensitive cunt. You keep letting gasps in and out from the suddenness, your breath cutting short each time his pelvic area slaps your pussy. He whimpers in your ear, silky sounds melting on your skin and sending tingles to your tummy.

You squeeze your legs around his hips, constant pleasure without an orgasm getting unbearable. Fyodor lets out more frequent whimpers and whines, his cock twitching inside of you as he keeps up his heavy pace. His grip on your wrist tightens as his pace becomes a bit messy, breathy moans sending shivers down your spine. You let out soft moans, your eyebrows twitching and eyes rolling back into your head.

You want to cum so badly, clenching around his cock desperately. Your desperation just sends him over the edge, a few loads of cum filling you up suddenly. He shakily pulls out, breathing heavily as some of the cum slides down your inner lips. A tingling sensation makes you quiver as you tighten around nothing, producing a bit louder, wet sounds.

Fyodor leans away from you, calming down from his release. He slowly gets up and starts getting dressed. You sit up, evidently deprived and annoyed.

"What do you think you are doing?" you ask in an accusatory tone. Fyodor just gives you a sharp look, but his lips curl into a sly smile.

"Do you think that's a smart way to talk to me?" he asks in a tone as sly as his smile. He puts on his pants as he walks up to you, placing his hand on your cheek.

"You have been quite disrespectful lately. Do you think you deserve to cum?" he whispers as he keeps on stroking your cheek.

"When have I been disrespectful?" you ask, slightly confused as you feel your core burning with a need for release.

"Many times. Many more than I approve of, that is." he says in a faintly sharper tone.

"Now, don't be a greedy brat and go to sleep. I have things to keep working on." he says as he gently pats the top of your head, sliding his fingers through your hair after.

"Oh right! You have that genius dude to catch up to!" you suddenly remember, exclaiming your words enthusiastically.

"Work hard and you will get there!" you nod slightly, happily smiling. Fyodor's face twitches in annoyance.

Just how oblivious can you be?

He swiftly grabs a handful of your hair from where his hand was resting on top of your head, making you gasp in. His free hand spreads your legs. He inserts two of his fingers inside your dripping cunt, pumping them in and out in a relentlessly agonizing pace. You let out quick, sharp moans as your lower tummy begins to hurt from stimulation, but lack of release of any sort. Little tears roll down your cheeks as it becomes unbearable.

"Does it hurt?" he asks with no sympathy whatsoever, on the contrary, his voice hints at slight sadism and pleasure. You barely nod and he lets a soft breath out, almost a chuckle.

"It should." he says in a colder tone, his gaze sharp and sly. He quickly extracts his fingers and taps your lips. You open up and begin sucking on them, cleaning up the mess he made inside you before.

"Enough. Now go to sleep or do whatever, as long as you are not touching yourself or messing up my work. Understood?" he whispers as he abruptly takes his fingers out of your mouth. He lets go of your hair and you almost fall down on the bed.

"Understood." you say quietly as you play with your fingers.

"Don't be disappointed now, I will reward you once I teach you how to behave properly again." he sighs out with a little grin as he puts his usual top on. With that being the last thing he says to you, he leaves the room. You keep on pouting for a little longer before you drop on the bed, sighing out. Trying to think of what you've done wrong, eventually you fall asleep, still painfully needy for a release.

~ Next day

You wake up with an urge to cum, already messing up with your day. As you go to the bathroom to wash up, you keep thinking about what you possibly could have done wrong. As you leave the bathroom, Fyodor walks in the room quietly, slowly closing the door behind himself.

"Oh, you are awake." he notices, his gaze falling down on your still nude body.

"So are you. Didn't you sleep at all?" you ask as he sits down on the bed and you climb on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. His fingertips brush over your hips as he closes his eyes.

"No, I didn't." he replies softly and you begin kissing his neck, shamelessly needy and careless for his current state.

"How emotionless and apathetic of you." he chuckles as he knows your neediness is currently taking control.

"You are one to tell me that." you narrow your eyebrows at him as you move away from his neck.

"Ah, are you still mad about last night?" he says in a silvery tone, gently sliding his palms down your thighs. You nod as you begin grinding your hips on him.

"I am tired dear, I will play with you later." he says as he gently rolls you over, letting you sit next to him. He stands up and takes his coat off. You feel slightly annoyed again, but try to not think about the burning sensation in your lower tummy.

"So, did you make any progress?" you ask in a casual tone as you lay down on your side, resting your head on your arm.

"Yes, it's going smoothly so far." Fyodor nods, replying softly.

"Mm, that's good." you nod, smiling at him.

"But imagine, you winning against him would prove you are really smart." you say in a daydreaming tone which rubs Fyodor the wrong way.

Really smart? As in...he isn't the smart one? In that daydreamy, hopeful tone? Fyodor never lets people test his patience as much as he had let you the past few days. This had to be some sick joke played out by you or the higher forces. Do you want a reaction out of him so badly? Forget it.

"You know what? Since I am so tired, I may reach out to a few little helpers." he says in a lickerish, but more so irritated tone.

"Hm? You mean Nikolai and Sigma?" you lift your head, tilting it to the side a bit.

"...No." he says after a prolonged pause. Good God. Did you already forget?

He reaches to the box where you kept a handful of toys. He takes out your favorite dildo, clit sucker and lube and walks up to you, dropping them in front of your face. You feel a warmth inside your tummy as Fyodor positions himself between your legs as you adjust your body for him. He lets a string of spit fall on your clit, sliding down to your inner lips as he gently rubs circles over them using his fingertips. You let out a soft moan as you let your head fall on the pillow. Fyodor opens the lube, squeezing a medium portion on his palm and begins rubbing the dildo, making it wet. He aligns it with your inner lips, gently thrusting half of it in and out. You feel goosebumps spread all over your body almost immediately. He starts thrusting the dildo in and out of you completely, its full length stimulating all of your sweet spots. You let out a few softer moans, your cunt already clenching around it.

Fyodor turns on the sucking toy and places it on your clit, immediately earning louder moans from you. The sensation makes you gasp, it's intense and it feels too good. You squeeze the sheets with your hands, body already trembling. Fyodor speeds up his movement, relentlessly sliding the dildo in and out of your sensitive pussy. Your cunt feels so full, your body feels so hot and your clit feels so nicely stimulated that it brings tears to your eyes. Your orgasm builds up quickly, short gasps escaping your throat as your body begins tensing up, besides your hips quivering from time to time. Fyodor keeps observing your reactions, eager to ruin them very soon.

You let out a little "please don't stop" as your orgasm reaches its edge, almost there. He swiftly removes the sucking toy and slows down the thrusts, ruining yet another orgasm of yours.

"Sorry dear, my hands got tired." he says in such an innocent tone, but you can't help your annoyance. You click your tongue as you sigh out, approaching orgasm completely melting away.

"I seem to be quite weak, too." he emphasizes the last word and it flies over your head. He slowly starts thrusting the dildo, picking up the quick pace from before. You gasp in as it keeps stimulating your g-spot, making all sensations of an orgasm but not giving you one. Fyodor places the toy back on your clit and as soon as you gasp in, he pulls it away. He repeats this couple of times, edging your release with each time he does. You feel the frustrating warmth under your skin, soft moans and gasps mixing in with sounds of disappointments and neediness every time your release gets delayed.

Fyodor chuckles at your desperate state as he begins thrusting the dildo even faster, this time keeping the sucking toy longer on your clit. Your orgasm builds up quickly again, tingling warmth spreading inside your lower tummy. Your filthy sounds become louder and as soon as you are just about to cum, he pulls away the toy and keeps the dildo still inside of you.

"You are doing this on purpose!" you almost yell out, evidently frustrated.

"Not at all dear, I am simply too weak to give you what you need. Don't you feel any sympathy for such an incapable man like myself?" he says in a tone he uses when he so obviously toys with people.

"Then give it to me! I will do it if you can't!" you say loudly, so needy for an orgasm.

"I can't do that, you dirty little brat." the emotions in his voice change as he says quite coldly and sharply. He starts pounding the dildo in and out of you again, abruptness making you gasp in as it feels too much.

"You are such an ungrateful little dumb thing." he says in a sharp tone, noticing your eyes fill up with tears as the sensations become overwhelming.

"You are going to cry again? How pathetic. You want my sympathies after treating me so disrespectfully? You truly are a little dumb whore." he speaks through relentlessly fucking you with a dildo, his voice irritated and heavy. You can't even speak up, choking on your own breath and sounds as the tears roll down your face.

"Spell my name. Now." he orders as he keeps going at a vigorous pace. Your mind feels cloudy and hazy.

"F-"

"Ah-" you moan and he immediately slaps your clit with his fingertips.

"Incorrect. Try again." he snickers.

"F…Y-, fuck!" you let out as he abruptly speeds up his movement, overstimulating your g-spot. He slaps your clit once again. The stinging sensation makes you quiver as your snivels fill up the room.

"Such a dumb whore you are." he says as he continues thrusting the dildo, not slowing down once. You can't think, forgetting the letters you've just spelt out for him.

"F..Y..D.-, ah!" another sharp moan of yours interrupts you as he hits your clit.

"Incorrect. You can't even spell my name, yet have the audacity to call me dumb." he emphasizes "me" and the sudden confusion makes you look at him weakly.

"I have, fuck!-, I have never called you dumb!" you defend yourself through a shaky tone.

"No? Then what was all that talk filled with praise for my opponent and how I need to keep up?" he asks sharply as he slows the movement slightly, letting you speak.

"No! That's not what I meant! I just...I was surprised someone was near your level, not that he is smarter!" you somehow voice out your words.

"I am sorry! I really didn't mean anything rude, I was just trying to encourage you!" you gasp out as he stops moving the toy, keeping it still inside of your cunt.

"Is that so?" he asks, still not fully convinced.

"Yeah.., you've been working so hard..so I just wanted to help. Sorry for the confusion...and if I seemed impressed by him. I am impressed by you, so..I suppose it came out the wrong way." you say quietly, a bit embarrassed. Fyodor's gaze searches for any signs of lying, but he seems not to be able to find any. He sighs out.

"We really need to work on your communication skills and self expression." he says as he slides the toy out of your cunt, sudden emptiness making you let out a soft gasp. You keep observing Fyodor, an abrupt thought entering your mind.

"Were you jealous?" you tilt your head, confused.

"Not at all, I simply don't take disrespect lightly which you are aware of by now." he says with a little smile as he positions himself between your legs.

"I think you were jealous." you tease him a little as he rolls the pants and boxers down his hips, exposing his hard, dripping cock.

"Suit yourself then." he says with a light chuckle. He aligns the tip of his cock with your entrance, sliding it inside easily. While doing so, he swiftly takes his top off, dropping it to the side. You let out a mellow whimper as he leans closer to you, placing faint kisses over your neck. His thrusts are soft and slow, making your aching pussy leak precum. Fyodor lets out a whimper, trembling lips barely touching your skin.

"Do you forgive me?" you ask softly and he nods, shaky breath warming up your neck as he thrusts sloppily.

"Mhm." he lets out softly in your ear, a pleasure sucking him in.

"You don't seem tired anymore." you chuckle a bit as you faintly drag your fingertips over his waist and back.

"It's a surprise what an irritation can do to a person." he says in a more steady, silvery tone as he speeds up his movement just a bit more, not wishing to speak anymore. You dig your fingernails into the soft flesh of his back as your eyes roll back. The way his pelvic area kisses your clit makes your body tremble as he keeps stimulating your sensitive spots inside. You let out shaky moans that combine with his shaky whines, your pussy tightening around him. Messily, you slide one of your hands between your bodies, reaching your overly needy clit. You begin rubbing little circles, an immediate breath of bliss escaping your lungs. You feel your pussy leaking even more precum, resulting in Fyodor sucking a deep breath in, his whorish sounds becoming more shaky. He continues kissing your neck, making longer pauses in between each as his body tenses up, mind over indulged in the sensations your pretty, warm pussy was providing for him.

Your moans pick up their pace as does your orgasm, building up quickly. Fyodor bites on the small portion of your neck, his lips parting as his teeth keep still, just to let out breathy moans as your pussy keeps on clenching. Your other hand keeps digging its fingernails into his back as you move your head back, letting out more guttural sounds of pleasure. You feel the waves of hot sensation spreading inside your body, its core in your lower tummy as Fyodor's cock keeps stimulating all of your sensitive spots. You speed up the movement of your fingers, even though they twitch from time to time as your release comes closer.

Fyodor lets go of your neck and you instinctively move your head towards him, placing a messy kiss on his lips. He parts your lips with his own trembling ones and his tongue finds yours quickly. Your kiss becomes passionate and messy as he starts thrusting even faster, making your release bubble up to its edge. You keep whimpering and moaning into each other's mouths, muffling the sounds at the same time. Your legs begin to shake as you finally feel your orgasm washing over you in tame waves. Fyodor bites your bottom lip as he feels your pussy clench around him, his cock twitching in response. Your head falls back, lips parting away from him. Fyodor keeps up his pace and so does your fingers.

You let out a chain of loud, deep and prolonged moans as your climax reaches its peak, so intense that it makes you lightheaded. Fyodor lets out higher whines, his forehead falling next to you as he speeds up the movement of his hips even more, this time prolonging your orgasm. Your hand moves into his hair, gripping on it tightly as your moans turn into dim whimpers, throat dry and body exhausted. You stop the movement on your clit, moving your hand on Fyodor's waist, barely holding it as you feel weak as your orgasm slowly melts away.

He keeps on whimpering in your ear, his hips quivering as he tries to keep up the steady movement, but unsuccessfully as his own release is approaching. You move your own hips a bit, trying to meet his and he lets out a sharp gasp as he reaches his orgasm suddenly. You feel his cum filling you up, a sensation making a hot knot inside your tummy. Your pussy feels too sensitive as Fyodor keeps on messily riding out his orgasm while quickly and breathlessly whining in your ear.

Your grip on his hair weakens and your arm falls to the side as he slowly calms down, stopping his movement and resting on top of you for a moment. You are still trying to catch your breath, feeling awfully tired and sleepy. Fyodor slowly pulls out, barely rolling to the side. He lays next to you and you turn around lazily, putting your leg over his hip as he puts his face on your chest. You brush your fingers through his hair, in a gentle and tired manner. Fyodor moves his hand over your waist, pulling you closer to him. Both of you close your eyes, feeling exhausted. You yawn, before speaking up sleepily.

"It's not that I dislike this side of you, but we need to work on your jealousy issues, you know?" you ask in a teasing tone as you keep on playing with his hair.

"I have no issues, your awful communication skills are to blame. However, don't get a foolish idea to do this on purpose in the future." he says in a quieter tone, evidently dozing off.

"I will think about it." you let out teasingly, but the tiredness washes over you, both of you falling asleep almost immediately.

The End :) <3

I hope you liked it and enjoyed it! :) <3

Thank you so much for all the love and support, it means the world to me! :) <3

Forehead kisses for everyone :3

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939 notes · View notes

lizthewriter · 7 months

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hii! so first of all, i LOVE your work and your writing style so much. so i was reading your last theo nott drabble and an idea came to my mind: it’s a gryffindor (maybe) party but it’s acc a theme party. the theme is dressing up as another house and reader (not a slytherin) borrows some of the boys’ quidditch clothes (like a bomber jacket or a jersey) and theo/mattheo get super jealous even though reader and him aren’t together. but it’s like he’s been after her for the whole year but she likes to play hard bc he normally doesn’t have to make any effort to have whoever girl he wants at his feet, and she doesn’t want to be just another girl, if you get what i mean? so she just shows up wearing another guys’ name and he goes feral.

A/N I'm so sorry this took me forever to write 😭. I've started college and boy is it overwhelming. Well! Here's part one to your request ehehe *burnt out* I really hope you enjoy! Thank you so much for showing support anon, I really appreciate it! If you guys get this to 1250 notes, I will prioritze part two <3

you make me jealous / theodore nott

PAIRING Theodore Nott x fem!Reader

SUMMARY part one in an upcoming series. you and theo have been flirting with each other for months, but neither of you have made a move. you don't want to be just another girl for theo, and theo's to afraid to commit to a relationship with the most amazing girl in the world, afraid that he'll eventually break your heart. you get confronted at a party and an argument ensues.

TAGS Theodore Nott x reader, mean!theo, jealous!theo, theo is kind of a dick here, sorry babes 🤷‍♀️, mutual pining, parties, underage drinking, ginny is a good bro, ron is a good bro, reader is not gryffindor, angst

"I'm so chill, but you make me jealous," - So it Goes . . . by Taylor Swift

WORD COUNT 1.3K

WRITTEN 2023.09.13

You could feel Theo's eyes burning through your dress as soon as you entered the room, but you were sure to absolutely avoid any eye contact with him. Tonight's mission was simple: break him. You and Theo had an interesting little dynamic, that was for certain. You had spent months flirting with each other - smooth lines that had you blushing, "accidental" caresses that made Theo ache for more of you, almost-kisses that haunted both of your daydreams. Oh yes, the two of you were smitten for one another. There was just one small, tiny little problem. Theodore was spoiled rotten. He was so used to girl's plopping themselves in his lap and vying so desperately for his attention. He was so accustomed to this, in fact, that he went through girls like toilet paper. One week he's chatting up Romilda Vane in the corridors and the next week it's Tracey Davis, and so on and so on. You didn't want to be just another girl, you wanted to make him work for you. Still, that didn't mean you couldn't nudge him in the right direction.

You don't know what miracle Merlin had pulled in the afterlife, but he had somehow lsitened to your prayers and granted you the perfect opportunity to piss off Theo. The Gryffindors were holding a themed party where all the attenders must dress as someone from a different house. You, of course utlizied your connections and talked with your very dear friend Ginny. You had decided to borrow the letterman jacket she had gotten as a member of the Quidditch and, even better, had asked her to act a bit more friendly towards you than usual.

The music in Gryffindor Tower boomed so loudly that you practically feel the beat vibrating in your chest.You descended the stairs, dressed in a tight golden dress with the burgundy jacket swung over your shoulders, the word WEASLEY spelled prominently on the back of it. One arm was intertwined with Ginny's, the other raised so that your hand could fix up your hair. Ginny's arm was wrapped around your waist as she lead you down the stairs, and as soon as her friends looked up, they all let out a roar. Seamus and Ron came over, harking on about some drinking game ans begging the two of you to join. Ron would usually take the piss if he saw someone with Ginny, but you and her had informed him of what was really going on, so he wasn't in a mood at all.

"Come on, Dean's just told us about it, it's called Beer Pong," Seamus told the two of you, leading you to a table with plastic cups aligned in the shape of a triangle at each end. He handed you a ball and explained how it worked. "You and Ginny are on Harry and Ron's team, that's this end of the table, and me, Dean, Lavender, and Parvati are over here. Now, you're gonna throw this ball and try to get it into one of our cups. If the ball lands in the cup, someone from my team has to drink whatever's in thay cup. Whoever has no cups leftover in the end loses, yeah?"

You glanced towards Theo, standing in a dark corner with a few of his Slytherin friends. The drink he held in his hand was hovering near his face, his eyes dark as he watched your every movement, while his friends were having a lively chat. You grinned and turned back to the others, standing right in front of the edge of the table. Ron and Harry started to cheer for you, Ginny ran a hand down your side. You sent a small smile your way before tossing the ball down the tablez landing it right in the first cup. The other team groaned and Seamus downed the alcohol, tossing the cup to the side.

The game went on for quite some time - your team had won, but only just. Ron had drank most of the alcohol and was now flirting very obviously with Hermione, who seemed unsure of whether to continue studying or listen to him. As a new song came on, Ginny pulled on your hand, dragging you to the crowd of the dancing bodies.

"Come on!" She exclaimed over the loud music. "I promise, he'll be mad once he sees us dancing together!" She grabbed your arms and threw them around her neck, her hair swaying as she nodded her head to the beat. You danced with her, your faces so close to one another that you could feel yourselves sharing the hot breath that left your mouths. Ginny glanced at something behind you and said, "He hasn't done anything the entire night, he's just been standing there. I think he needs a little more motivation."

Something mischievous twinkled in Ginny's eyes - you narrowed your own at her. "Just what exactly are you thinking, Ginerva?"

Ginny scoffed, a wide grin forming on her face. "Did you seriously just call me by my full name?"

"As a matter of fact, I did. I don't like that look on your face."

Ginny rested her hands on your waist, swaying her hips in unison with yours, bringing her face close to you. "I promise if you kiss me, he'll do something about it." She rushedly added, "I won't do anything if you don't want to though, it was just an idea."

You bit your bottom lip, contemplating the idea. Ginny wasn't necessarily wrong, it was a pretty good idea and would probably get some sort of rise out of Theo. You glanced back at her with assured eyes, asking, "Is he looking at us now?"

"Yeah, why -"

"Good," you responded, smashing your lips against Ginny's. It didn't feel like anything you've felt with anyone before - no butterflies blossoming in your stomach, no fuzziness growing in your head, just lips against lips. You pulled away suddenly, looking at Ginny with wide eyes. "Sorry!" You exclaimed, now thinking you should have asked her if it was okay before kissing her. But she wasn't looking at you.

You turned to look at what she was smirking at and found Theo marching over to you, drink in his hand discarded. You turned to look back at Ginny, but she had disappeared, leaving you alone to deal with the fallout. When you turned back, he was standing in front of you.

"I know what you're doing," Theo said, his breath erratic and not at all uniform. You smirked up at him, stepping closer so that your head was practically meeting his chest. Your fingers crawled up his arms and you watched his reaction.

"And what exactly am I doing, Theo?" He scoffed and glanced away. He said nothing, causing you to frown. You grabbed his chin with your hand, turning his head so that your eyes met again. "Come on, say it."

"You're trying to make me jealous!" He exclaimed angrily. "Waltzing around on her arm, kissing her, when we both know that you don't even like her like that."

"And why wouldn't I like her, Nott?"

"Because you're supposed to like me!" He huffed, his arms raised like a petulant child. "What, you're going to pretend as though you haven't spend months flirting with me?"

"Are you?" You returned with a raised eyebrow, taking a step forward. "Don't pretend as though you didn't have your tounge down Daphne Greengrass' throat only three days ago!"

"I don't care about her, I care about you!" He shouted back.

"Then prove it! And that's not an invitation for you to kiss me, that's me asking you to show me you really do care about me."

"Fine then! I will!"

Thank you all for reading! Be sure to like, reblog, and comment! I really appreciate it ^^. If you have any requests, by inbox is open but make sure to check the list of characters I write for here. If you want to be tagged in any upcoming fics/headcanons of mine, let me know. If you want to see more from me, go ahead and check out my masterlist here!

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