#there's so much warmth in the air. gentle conversations and warm drinks being passed around. blankets tucked over shoulders. cozy. safe.

[brandwhorestarscream]

The butler Starscream ask made me think of an AU where Starscream is a Decepticon, but when no one's watching he opens a bar under the alias Ulchtar with other Seekers where anyone can come, regardless of faction.

The reason is because the Seekers desperately wants to deliver their hospitality but can't because most of them are fighters.

Starscream opening up an underground club but the only thing the members do is dote on guests and be doted on because seekers love to love? God tier concept

#idk about him using an alias but i can absolutely imagine Starscream being so happy and relaxed in an environment where the only thing to do #is love #there's so much warmth in the air. gentle conversations and warm drinks being passed around. blankets tucked over shoulders. cozy. safe. #it becomes a secret haven for those stressed and tired and terrified by war

[sad-sweet-cowboah]

The Heart of Your Home Pt 2

Summary: Arthur comes across a woman in need. What he thought was a simple good deed would take him down a much further path than anticipated.

Warnings: Cursing, eventual canon-typical violence, eventual smut.

Word Count: 4,976

A/N: I hated how long it took me to write this piece, ugh. It's a slight slow burn, but it becomes much juicier later.

Arthur awoke to the quiet, drowsy chatter of the women in camp. He slowly sat up, blinking the remnants of sleep from his eyes as his body drew in a wide yawn. With the sun still somewhat low in the sky, the air was frosty. He grabbed the jacket that was draped across the clothes chest at the foot of the cot and pulled it on as he stood up, letting the warmth sink into his stiffened limbs. 

He made his way over to the cooking fire, looking for the familiar black kettle resting upon the tiny flames, but was disappointed to find none. Abigail and Mary-Beth were standing around it, their shoulders wrapped in shawls to cover their thin sleepwear. They greeted Arthur with tired smiles, their eyes still bleary with sleep. 

“Coffee,” Pearson’s voice broke through their barely started conversation. The balding cook lumbered toward the small crowd and placed the kettle just over the fire. “it'll be ready in a few,” he straightened up and met Arthur’s eye, bidding him a good morning as well. 

It was going to be a dull day, and Arthur could tell. One of those days where he was free to mill around camp or venture out, although he preferred the latter, lest he was pulled aside for some job or another. He’d hunted a gargantuan beast with Hosea, robbed a homestead belonging to some odd folk with Javier, drank himself silly with Lenny and had nearly gotten caught by the Valentine lawmen after a drunken ruckus, begrudgingly rescued Micah from being hanged in Strawberry, and rescued Sean from the Pinkertons just outside of Blackwater. A day to himself was desperately needed, even if it meant just mounting his horse and riding aimlessly for a few hours. 

He thought, maybe, he ought to have a hot meal at the Valentine saloon. Perhaps he may pay for a bath in the hotel, Lord knows he needed one, and taking quick rinses in the Dakota River could only do so much. 

“Arthur,” 

Hearing his name severed his train of thought. His eyes swiveled to meet Mary-Beth's, who was patiently holding a tin mug of steaming coffee to him. “Oh,” he said, taking it with a smile. “Thank you, Mary-Beth.” 

A smile of amusement crossed the young woman’s lips. “Get your head outta the clouds, Arthur,” she joked. “Nothing good up there, except rain.” 

Arthur exhaled slightly through his nose with a small laugh. “I'll keep that in mind,” he took a sip of his drink, slightly wincing from the scald that passed across his tongue. He began to trudge back to his canvas outcropping, starting to plan his day once again. 

He was able to leave shortly thereafter, heading off through the thicket as the chilly morning air steadily began to warm up. Valentine wouldn’t be his first choice in a day of relaxation, but the convenience of its proximity outweighed other less than ideal features. After a short trip he arrived, passing the busy stockyards and bustling side streets, his sights on the hotel first. 

With a quick interaction with the hotel clerk, Arthur soon found himself in the bath. The warm, soapy water was a welcoming touch to his wind-weathered skin and aching muscles. He rested his head against the lip of the tub, closing his eyes and allowing relaxation to overtake him. 

It wasn’t much longer until a small knock on the door announced the arrival of a bath girl, which he accepted. A young woman came in with a smile on her face, dark hair falling in gentle curls around her shoulders, and her chemise sitting low, which Arthur never glanced twice at. She had a sweet voice and a gentle touch, freckles dotted her nose and a touch of red on her lips. He would have called her pretty if he had the courage, but instead made admittedly awkward comments about his life that she giggled at. 

“I was almost married once, she never bathed me,” he said with a half-smile. 

“Well how about that!” The woman said with a soft chuckle as she smoothed a sudsy hand along his leg. 

Although he’d never admit it out loud, he truly did miss the touch of a woman. Quiet moments stolen from a harrowing life lead to guilty afterthoughts. He didn’t deserve a woman, not any more than he deserved kindness from strangers, even if they were paid to do so. 

The bath finished shortly after, with a soft kiss planted against his cheek and a well wish for the remainder of the day. The water had cooled then, prompting him to reluctantly redress and leave. 

He wasn’t exactly sure how much time had passed during his bath, but the morning sun since disappeared behind a blanket of cool gray cloud cover, a gradient casting into iron just north, brooding over the Ambarino mountains. A cold gust carried the scent of rain with it, gathering underneath the brim of his hat. 

The last thing he wanted to do was to get stuck in the rain. 

Arthur’s gaze drifted to the saloon across the way, which from what he could see wasn’t all that busy. It had to be around lunch time now, and the uncomfortable gurgle in his stomach agreed with his thought. He began to cross the street, although something caught his eye. 

He wasn't sure how he noticed it; horses lined the posts along the muddy pass. Sorrel and bay and palomino, except that one, the distinctly patterned overo coat shining like a beacon amongst the others, settled more toward the doctor’s office down the way. That mare he'd plucked from the wilderness to return to her once equally as lost owner.   

It'd been some weeks since the encounter, one having blurred in with every other fleeting job he’d accomplished during their relatively short stay at Horseshoe Overlook. The memory which was buried in the back of his mind unearthed fluidly: the wolves, the screaming, the delicious and hearty stew. His mouth watered at the thought, and another memory surfaced; you, all smiles and hospitality, not timid in the slightest even after your close brush with death. You welcomed him in for a hot meal and then further gave him permission to stop by your little homestead if in need of a moment to rest his feet and fill his belly.   

Admittedly there were plenty of moments of bone tiredness and late days, if he had remembered, he would have gladly taken the opportunity. 

“Arthur!” 

It were as if the heavens above somehow heard his thoughts. He turned to spot you just exiting the general store, a smile on your face and a bag slung across your shoulders.  

Arthur tilted his head in response. “Afternoon,” he said with a slight smile of his own. 

  “it's so good to see you again!” You say as if greeting an old friend. “How have you been?” 

  “Oh, I've been alright,” he responded with a slight shrug. “Can't complain. How about you? No more trips in the forest?” 

You lightly scoff, but the smile on your lips remained. “None of the sort, I'm proud to say. I've kept myself restricted to Valentine since then.” 

“Good,” he nodded again, and gestured toward the bag you held. “I suppose you're makin’ more stew?” 

You glance down at the bag, then back to him. “No stew, but I did pick up some chicken from the butcher around the corner. Thought I could do something different.” 

“Okay, well don't let me stop ya,” he waved his hand in an act of dismissal, the talk of food only making him hungrier. He turned halfway before your voice spoke out again. 

“Wait, would you like to join me?” 

Arthur blinked and turned to face you again, slightly confused. “Huh?” 

“Join me for lunch? I never did thank you properly for returning my horse, and you haven't stopped by since I extended my offer. Seems like a good time as any,” you explained with a half shrug. “Only if you'd like to, of course.” 

Hesitation filled his mind, completely caught off guard by this invite. He glanced at the saloon again, and then back to you, the hunger roiling expectantly in his guts. It would be easier to stay, have a few drinks and not risk the rain. But who was he to turn down another free meal, even if it meant waiting for just a little longer? 

“Okay,” Arthur finally said. “Sounds good.” 

Your smile widened, eyes brightening even with the increasingly darkening sky. “Great, please take your time, I’m going to head home and start. Do you remember the way?” 

“Course,” 

He watched as you bounded toward your mare, mounting with ease and heading westward in a smooth lope, splashing lops of mud with each hoof beat. He supposed he should allow you a head start; not to awkwardly wait in your house as you finished cooking. 

Another thought sprang up. But what of your husband? The fool that moved you out here and left you to your own devices. Would he be so lucky as to meet this unwise fellow, and wondered if this man knew of your nearly failed journey. 

  Unless said husband happened to be on another trip of his, Arthur inwardly guessed, and surprised himself with just how much detail he remembered of you. Then again you weren't the only person of unique circumstance he's met over the years, some he dared to say he called a friend. 

A heavy drop fell upon the brim of his hat, the first arrival of the storm above. Arthur automatically began to move forward, sheltering himself beneath the outcropping of the saloon. This only tempted him further to just to stay here. But it would be rude to ignore your invite, and despite his gruff exterior and lifestyle choice, he did have manners. 

He decidedly spent the next twenty minutes aimlessly browsing the general store, restocking his health cures and cigarettes. By the time he made his way back outside, the drizzle turned into a steady rain. His Andalusian sat waiting for him, the rain darkening the silver coat. Arthur quickly mounted and headed in the direction you took earlier, easing into a quick pace, hoping the ride wouldn't soak him to the bone. 

Arthur spent the remainder of the ride at a steady gallop, head turned down to avoid most of the rain spattering his face. His jacket had been soaked and the shirt beneath was beginning to as well when he finally reached your home. Leading his stallion to the barn behind just as before, before rounding back to climb the front steps. The door was closed, and he knocked and waited. 

You appeared just seconds later, throwing the door open and welcoming him inside enthusiastically. He stepped in, suddenly conscious of the torrents of rainwater cascading from his body. He removed his jacket immediately and placed it on a hanger by the door, same with his hat, a small pool beginning to form underneath. 

The warmth was the first thing that greeted him. The oven radiated a soothing heat in such a contrast to the chilling wetness that shrouded the surrounding landscape. Arthur’s tense frame relaxed, and he breathed in, taking a first whiff of the savory, herbal aroma that accompanied the heat. 

“You came just in time,” you said as you headed toward the oven, propping open the door and removing an appealing looking roasted chicken. “I was just about finished.” 

He watched as you placed the perfectly roasted whole chicken onto a large plate, his mouth watering at the sight. 

“Take a seat!” You gestured toward the table. Arthur did so quietly, taking the same spot as his previous visit. It only took another moment before you placed a generous helping of herb crusted chicken in front of him. You settled across from him with your own helping. 

“I take it your husband ain’t here,” he said, noting the size of the servings on each plate. 

“He’ll be back tomorrow, I think,” you respond. “Sometimes it’s hard to tell with that man.” 

Arthur hummed a response, taking the first bite, his stomach rumbling gratefully as the flavors greeted his tongue. Oregano and thyme, he detected, so delicately laced with moist poultry. He swallowed and took a deep breath, reminding himself to keep his manners for once again another delectable meal from your hands. 

He looked up and realized you were watching him expectantly. He blinked and averted his gaze, cutting himself another sliver. You were just waiting for his opinion. “Jus’ as good as the stew, maybe even better,” he complimented before chewing the second piece.   

“Thank you!” You say, beaming. “And thank you for ensuring my hard work doesn't go to waste once again.” 

Arthur chuckled in response. “Your husband’s a lucky feller. I'm surprised he don't get a closer job, with the way you cook, I'm sure he misses it on his travels.” 

“Oh, if only,” you sighed lightly and began to eat from your own plate. 

It fell silent from then on, aside from the scraping of silverware on the plates and the steady fall of rain outside. Arthur fully immersed himself in his delicious meal, taking slow and deliberate bites to ensure he wouldn't be soon stuck out in the dreary weather once more. You then offered him a glass of wine, which he gladly took, the alcohol dry and bitter but it further settled into his stomach, warming him from the inside out. 

The air was calm and peaceful, absent of the concern Arthur held over the past month. As chatty as you'd been before, he appreciated your decided silence now. It wasn't awkward nor tense, and he could enjoy the company of someone who didn't need to constantly talk his ear off. As insistent as you were, it didn't bother him in the slightest. Being here offered a nice break from the responsibilities of the gang, even if it meant for a short while. Perhaps he could stop by again, later in the week, should your husband accept him as a guest as well. 

A cold, wet drop falling into his unoccupied left hand nearly startled him. He looked at the faint glimmer of the water that rolled along his skin, only to feel another land on his nose. Arthur blinked and looked up, noticing for the first time the waterlogged wooden panels condensed into one spot, directly above where he sat. 

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake!” You exasperate suddenly, then sigh. “I'm sorry, Arthur. Frederick was supposed to have someone come and fix that...” 

Arthur assumed that had to be your husband’s name. He simply scooted to the side, not bothered in the slightest by the slow leak, while you hurried over to place an empty can where he just was. He caught your muttering of annoyance, something about three weeks?   

“It ain't a bother to me,” he says to you. “How long you been waitin’ on that fix?” 

You look to him, your mouth tightening slightly. “Too long, I'm tired of it ruining my table,” you answer with a gesture to a spot that Arthur hadn’t noticed on the surface. Slightly raised and rough in appearance in contrast to the smoothness surrounding it, indicating water damage.   

He would have simply suggested moving the table, if the small kitchen wasn't already occupied by other furniture. Still, he could understand your concern. A roof patch wasn't a terribly difficult task, if your husband would lift a finger to learn how, instead of hiring what already seemed to be an unreliable man for the job. 

“I could fix it, if you'd like,” he offered. 

You blinked in surprise, clearly caught off guard. “Arthur, that's not necessary. I will just have to remind Frederick when he comes back tomorrow.” 

“it's necessary enough. It ain't a hard job either, shouldn't take longer than an hour,” he responded with a shrug. 

“You already saved mine and my horse’s lives. You shouldn't be bothered with such a task,” you say. 

“it ain't a bother,” Arthur shook his head to further make his point known. “After waitin’ that long, you oughta have somethin’ done.” 

There was a moment of silence. Your gaze held steady as you regarded his offer, lips pressed into a thin line. Finally, you sighed and said, “Okay, but not today.” 

“Weren’t plannin’ on it,” Arthur pointed out. “If the weather’s nicer tomorrow, I'll stop by.” 

You nodded to his plan. “Do...you live close by? I wouldn't want you to travel far for my sake.” 

Arthur hesitated, wondering if you were about to invite him to spend the night in the spare bedroom dependent on his answer. Probably not, if your husband was due back tomorrow, it would be an awkward conversation to explain another man under the roof of a married woman. So he finally answered, “Yeah, not too far from here.” 

“Okay,” you say, still looking unsure about this entire idea. You then rounded back to your side of the table, beginning to clean the remnants of the dinner. “Thank you, Arthur. You really don’t have to…” 

He waved his hand as if to brush off your words. “Think of it as a thanks for another good meal.” 

--- 

Leaving shortly after that conversation, Arthur was glad he managed to wait out the brunt of the rain, which had dissolved into a light misting by the time he mounted his stallion. His coat had mostly dried out and his body felt warm and full, which easily gave him energy for the remainder of the day. 

He’d gone back to his original plan to just relax for the remainder of the day, taking an easy ride down by the Dakota River and just enjoying nature. Another hour passed when the rain finally cleared and the clouds made way for bright blue skies, instantly bathing the land in sunlight and warmth. Time became lost as the river opened to the gray expanse of Flat Iron Lake ahead, new sunlight glinting in the still waters. 

Perhaps he should fish. 

The sun began to set when Arthur’s satchel became decently full and he took the time to fry a few once his stomach began to rumble again. Even over a campfire and a few herbs dusting the gritty fish, he had to wonder what you'd do with his catch in a better stocked kitchen. He ought to ask tomorrow, seeing as he had more than enough to spare. 

Heading back to camp just as the fiery hue in the sky gave way to a cobalt twilight, he offered some of his catch to Pearson before settling into his cot for the night.   

The next morning showed the promise of blue skies and sunshine, as Arthur repeated his beginning day ritual of bitter coffee and a few spoken words to his fellow early risers, before taking off on horseback. 

His steed settled into a leisurely trot, decidedly taking the route of the ravine instead of going around by Valentine. It was quieter, and he didn't have to subject himself to the rancid smell of filthy stockyards, even if it were just for a few minutes. The view was pleasant too, appreciating the lush green after staring at a canvas of grays and whites for weeks, reminding him bitterly of those harsh few weeks in the mountains after Blackwater. 

Arthur had become so lost in his thoughts, he hadn't realized how much time passed, or how far he traveled. Before he knew it, he was upon the smaller path that led to your quaint little house just beyond the trees. 

You greeted him with the same enthusiasm as yesterday, but still hinted that he was doing too much. He once again waved it off, then remembering the fish from yesterday, pulled them from his satchel and handed them to you. Your face was full of confusion, until he told you about his prior thoughts about cooking a better fish in your kitchen. 

“Oh!” You said, still slightly befuddled. “I don't have much experience cooking with fish, but I’ll do what I can!” 

Afterward you directed him to the barn, where the tools were, before heading back in to begin cooking. Arthur greeted the familiar mare after allowing his own horse in to share some of the hay. He gave a quick glance of the surroundings, managing to find a ladder and some hand tools. With just a few moments of carrying everything out, he climbed up top and began to work. 

The roof was shingled, and old. Moss and lichen grew a thick layer, indicating the distinct lack of maintenance. He had to wonder how long this place sat before you and...Frederick? Moved in. 

He slowly moved, mentally mapping out the room beneath him to try and locate the source. It didn't take very long; the rotten wood softening beneath his careful feet. 

Home repair wasn't a skill he'd boast about, but he’d managed well enough. Fifteen minutes into the job, movement caught his eye. Automatically tensing, Arthur shot a quick glance toward the woods, easily identifying the newcomer. It was a man, surprisingly sharply dressed and carrying a suitcase, giving him a slight air that reminded Arthur of Dutch. Very out of place considering they were on the edge of the wilderness. He emerged from the tree line, a smile on his face. His eyes met Arthur’s, and the smile slightly faded. 

“Frederick!” Your voice called from below, pulling the newcomer’s attention away. You appeared just a short second after, crossing the distance between you and your husband, pulling him into an embrace. 

Ah, that made sense. Letting himself relax again, Arthur shifted his attention back to the roof. He made a show of what he was doing, hoping not to rouse any suspicion. He could feel your husband’s curious eyes on him and caught the quick explanation you gave. The repairman Frederick had supposedly sent for weeks ago finally showed up. It seemed like a better solution other than trying to explain the man who saved your life returned to fix a leaky roof out of the goodness of his heart. 

Goodness of his heart, Arthur snorted to himself. What good? 

From what sounded like an approval from the other man, the two of you soon disappeared into the house, allowing Arthur to work in peace. 

It had to only be another few minutes when the creak of the door sounded again. Arthur glanced back down to see Frederick had appeared again, staring at him with curiosity. 

“Fine work you’re doing there!” the man spoke in a flourishing accent that almost matched Josiah’s. 

Arthur had been caught off guard by this. He offered a slight smile and called out, “Uh, thank you.” 

“And thank you for your craftsmanship! My wife will have your pay,” Frederick continued. “Find her once you’re done!” 

Arthur merely nodded, and watched in confusion as Frederick made his way toward the tree line again. Was he leaving, just five minutes after arriving? Arthur only sighed and turned his focus back to the job. 

For the next thirty minutes or so, Arthur managed to identify and fix the issue, which he found wasn’t difficult in the slightest. He wondered why no one came out sooner, and he was glad to have repaired it before it’d gotten much worse. Satisfied with his handiwork, he gathered the tools and made his way for the ladder. As he climbed down, he was surprised to see you already standing at the base, waiting patiently for him. 

Momentarily stunned by your sudden appearance, Arthur placed the tools down and gestured toward the roof. “Weren’t too bad of a fix,” he said. “Jus’ a simple patch, but it should keep the rain out.” 

You smiled at him sweetly. “Thank you, again, for that,” you held up your hand for Arthur to see a billfold in your palm. “It’s fifteen dollars.” 

Even though he offered for free, he wasn’t the one to turn down any sort of monetary gain. Just a little bit more to add to the camp. Arthur took the money from you, counting it out. It was indeed fifteen. As he placed it into his pocket, you continued to speak. 

“I also cooked the fish. Would you like some? I offered some to Frederick, but he had to leave.” 

That brought on Arthur’s previous curiosity. “Why did he leave so soon? He couldn't have been here for all but ten minutes.” 

The smile on your face faltered slightly. “He had some business in Valentine,” you say with a small sigh. “But he promised he’d be back tonight." 

Well, at least it wasn’t for another long trip. But from the look on your face, he could tell it bothered you more than you’d let on. He wondered how often Frederick left you alone these past few weeks, and how painfully lonely it must've been. Arthur shouldn’t judge your husband’s business, but it seemed shameful the man couldn’t spend at least an hour at home to enjoy lunch with you. 

His stomach rumbled expectantly, and he decided to take your offer for a third time. 

He couldn't help but notice your face light up in delight when you served him the fish. Even for your supposed lack of skill in cooking them, he found they were just as delicious as your last few dishes. The meal was eaten with mostly silence, aside from you once again thanking him for the roof job and double checking to ensure the fish was cooked properly. 

As you cleared your spot, Arthur couldn't help but notice the content look on your face, probably grateful knowing your cooking didn't have to go to waste today. He stood up and stretched a little, his belly comfortably full. He picked up his own plate and brought it over to the sink, placing it on the counter as you pumped water in to rinse yours off. 

“Thank you,” you say, nodding to his plate. “I trust it was good?” 

“As good as I said it was earlier,” Arthur assured you once again. “I promise.” 

Your eyes held his for a second, as if looking for a falter in the truth. After a moment, you chuckled dejectedly to yourself. “Sorry, last time I cooked fish, Frederick was sick for a day. I just wanted to be sure...” 

“Second time’s the charm,” Arthur pointed out. “’Less your husband has a weak stomach.” 

You laughed again, a light and hearty sound. “I suppose that could be it,” you said thoughtfully, grabbing Arthur’s plate to wash next. “Or he just doesn't like fish.” 

Arthur chuckled himself, folding his arms to lean against the counter. “With the way you cook, I find that hard to believe.” 

The smile on your face was soft and bashful, though your eyes kept on the plates. There was a slight flush in your cheeks, or maybe that was a trick of the light? “Enough of the flattery, Arthur, you've done more than enough already.” 

  With a mere shrug, Arthur stood up straight again. The need to leave sparked in his mind but dwindled just as quickly as it arrived, thinking he could drag his feet a bit. The thought of heading back to camp only to be recruited into another job didn't seem as tempting today. Strauss was beginning to look desperate, and that was the very last thing he wanted to amend. 

He could only barely hear Dutch’s tone, reminding him that it needed to be done. Debts to be paid. He shook his head slightly. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Arthur then realized at that moment, you were looking right at him, a wrinkle of concern on your forehead. 

“Oh, uh, nothin’ important,” he said. “Jus’ not excited for what awaits me back at home.” 

A frown touched your lips for a split second before smoothing out. “Then don't let me hold you up.” 

“You ain't,” Arthur assured you. “It can wait a while.” forever, he added silently. 

The corner of your mouth quirked almost into another smile. You set the dishes to dry and turned to face him fully just a moment later. “I’d rather not get you in trouble,” you tell him. “Not over some stranger who needed their roof fixed.” 

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Nothin’ I can’t handle.” 

You sighed and shook your own head at him, like a mother dealing with her child’s antics. “Well...I highly doubt you’d want to spend more time around me to avoid your responsibilities, haven’t I bothered you enough?” you ask him, placing your hands on your hips and looking expectant. 

Arthur shrugged Again. “You caught me,” he lightly joked with another chuckle, and then reluctantly added, “Though I guess I might as well head back. Don’t need your husband showin’ back up and wonder I hadn’t left yet.” 

There was a small giggle from you. “Well good,” you fake chided. “I don’t need you to be in trouble on my account.” 

Giving her a half smile, Arthur walked towards the door. “Alright alright, I got the point.” 

As he stepped out, he realized you were following him. He treaded down the porch steps and turned slightly to give you a proper goodbye. 

Your face still held a smile of amusement, but there was a flicker in your eyes. Sadness? It disappeared at an instant as you spoke. “Arthur, you're a good man. Thank you again for everything you've done.” 

Arthur tilted his head in appreciation. “You have a good rest of your day now.” 

“You too,” you say. “And please don't hesitate to stop by sometime. My original offer is still up, if you're ever in the area.” 

“’Course,” he nodded. “I haven't forgotten. I'll swing by soon enough.” 

Your smile widened. “Then I’ll see you soon.” 

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader

[valdomarx]

“Geralt. My dearest friend. My closest companion. Light of my life, fire of my-”

Geralt narrows his eyes. “What do you want, Jaskier?”

“Seeing as how I’ve made you famous, and I flatter myself that this has eased you path somewhat, why, this very inn not only took us in but even offered us a discounted rate-”

“What do you want, Jaskier?” Testier this time.

“Ahh. Well. Let me put it plainly: I’m in need of a favour.”

Geralt raises one eyebrow, in an expression he knows speaks volumes.

“I need you to come with me to Lettenhove this winter and pose as my fiancé.”

Geralt nearly drops the sword he’s sharpening. A million thoughts whip through his mind, but one is most pressing: “Why, for Melitele’s sake?”

Jaskier waves a hand in a vague and non-descriptive gesture. “It’s a court thing, you know how families are, and my mother has made it abundantly clear that it’s time for me to settle down and this year I’m to return affianced or else she’ll select someone for me. And I can’t get hitched to some local lady, Geralt, I simply can’t, it’ll ruin my bardic appeal, not to mention my employment prospects, and of course I won’t be able to travel with you, and it’s-”

Geralt holds up a hand to ward off the wall of words. The idea of no longer travelling with Jaskier is unconscionable, not that he’d ever admit that out loud. And they spend so much time together they’re practically married anyway. How hard could it be to pretend for a few days?

“Fine,” he says gruffly.

“Oh, Geralt, you are wonderful.” Jaskier beams and throws his arms around Geralt’s neck. Geralt growls, but secretly, it’s actually rather nice.

-

“Mother, this is Geralt, my fiancé.”

Cold, clear eyes look him up and down, assessing him, and pinch into an expression suggesting he has been found wanting. Geralt decides against opening his mouth and further cementing that opinion.

“A witcher.” Her voice has the familiar twang of Jaskier’s, but with the flat, expressionless cadence he associates with the higher echelons of the aristocracy.

“A witcher!” Jaskier confirms in a cheery tone. “Isn’t that exciting?”

She sniffs in a manner which makes it clear that exciting would not be her first choice of word. “I see. He will be joining us for this year’s Yuletide?”

“He will.”

Her face draws back into the impassive mask of the well-bred. “Very well. You will stay in the east wing.”

“Thank you, mother.” Jaskier executes a stiff bow which Geralt copies and they beat a hasty retreat.

-

“That went rather well!”

Geralt blinks. “Jaskier, I’m fairly sure your mother means to have me killed in my sleep.”

“Oh, don’t mind her. She’s always like that. She’s actually softened up a lot since dear old dad died, gods rest the grumpy bastard.”

Geralt struggles to imagine how such staid, cold people could possibly have produced a son as bright and warm as Jaskier. They might as well be a different species.

Jaskier pushes open a door to a grand suite, all plush velvets and gold ornamentation, a thick woven rug underfoot. It’s the most opulent room Geralt has ever seen, but Jaskier pays it no mind and throws his bag casually on the bed.

“We’ll have to stay here together,” he says apologetically, not looking Geralt in the eye. “But the bed is plenty big, or I can sleep on the sofa if you’d rather -”

Geralt is still taking it all in: The space, the furnishings, the frankly enormous bed which looks divinely comfortable. And there, through the next room, that looks like-

“Is that a copper bathtub?” he asks, eyes wide. Such luxuries were a rarity indeed.

Jaskier grinned. “It is. Let me get some food sent up and I’ll wash your hair?”

Geralt grumbles, just for the effect, and decides that putting up with tedious aristocracy might have its benefits after all.

-

Yule festivities in Lettenhove are, mercifully, a mere matter of days. First there is the fitting for formal attire, which Geralt scowls through but Jaskier promises will be made up for with plenty of good food and wine. Then there are several deeply tedious aristocratic parties, which Jaskier sails through and Geralt spends mostly hiding in dark corners, as is his wont.

Occasionally, Jaskier will grab him by the hand and introduce him as, “Geralt, my husband-to-be,” and something funny will flip over in his stomach which will require several drinks to settle. When he returns to his dark corner he’ll find his heart pumping a little faster as his eyes track Jaskier flitting around the room. It’s probably just indigestion from all the rich food.

Then there is the formal family Yuletide dinner, a spectacularly awkward and singly unpleasant evening spent around a long, cold table with Jaskier’s mother and various cousins, who regard Geralt with expressions ranging from bland disinterest to active hostility. The food is heavy beyond measure and the conversation cruel and bland by turns.

They cover the need for raising taxes, the many failings of the servant class, and the petty squabbles over jewels and titles that seems to be the bread and butter of these people. With each hateful line, Geralt feels his blood rising. If it weren’t for Jaskier making pleading eyes at him, he’d take great pleasure in explaining some hard truths to them.

When a cousin begins expounding on useless lazy peasants in the estate, complaining that they can’t work because of plague, but we all know they’re simply idle, Geralt grits his teeth so hard that he swears the sound must be audible.

Beneath the table, Jaskier takes his hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. Staring down at their joined hands, Geralt detaches from these awful people and their awful conversation and focuses on the simple warmth of Jaskier’s fingers intertwined with his own.

-

They make their escape from dinner as soon as can be considered polite, and Geralt takes a second to lean against the door to their room, breathing deeply.

“You did well not to throttle anyone,” Jaskier says with a reassuring smile. “If we’d had to listen to cousin Edrick for a minute longer, I might have launched over the table with a carving knife myself.”

Geralt reaches for him without thinking, and once again Jaskier’s hand slips into his own. It’s grounding, to feel something genuine in this place surrounded by artifice.

“Come on,” Jaskier says. “Let’s get out of here.”

Geralt doesn’t even ask where they’re going before nodding.

-

They sneak away from the estate out of the servants’ door and follow a winding path toward a cluster of lights in the valley below. The path into Lettenhove town is quiet and calm, and as they walk the snow begins to fall in soft flurries, covering the ground in a peaceful white blanket.

The town looks picture perfect when they arrive, a charming jumble of thatched cottages and a small, cosy inn from which bright light spills out into the snowy night. When they enter the barmaid runs over to hug Jaskier and the proprietor slaps him on the back, and Jaskier has a kind word and a waved greeting for every person in there.

Geralt feels something unwind in his chest, something he hadn’t realised was tight and twisted until now. Seeing Jaskier in his element, among people who love him for who he is, instead of among that cold, hateful family, he feels right in a way he hasn’t for days.

Jaskier is already buying drinks and passing them around, and he excitedly waves Geralt over. “Bree, Geoffrey,” he addresses the couple behind the bar, “This is Geralt.” A shy smile sneaks over his face. “My fiancé.” The couple gasp in delight and congratulate Jaskier, then they’re embracing Geralt like old friends and pushing a drink into his hands.

“Come on, Geralt, join us!” Bree smiles warmly. “It’ll be the ten o’clock bells soon, and we must have Jaskier lead us in a song.”

The evening is a whirl of music and dance and loud, terrible singing, which the entire town seems to join in. For once there is no corner for Geralt to hide in, so he stays by Jaskier’s side, basking in the reflected glow of these people’s clear adoration of his bard.

-

When the midnight bell chimes and Geoffrey turns them all out for the night, the revelers wend their way home still singing and drinking. As the place empties out, Jaskier slides over to Bree to press a kiss to her cheek and a bulging purse into her hand. She tries to wave him off but Jaskier tucks the money behind the counter all the same, and Geralt watches, a deep wave of fondness sweeping through him.

The snow is still falling when they step out into the now-quiet street, soft, fat flakes drifting lazily from the sky and sticking in Jaskier’s hair. His cheeks are flushed pink and his hair falls in an messy sweep over his eyes; without thinking Geralt reaches out to brush it away behind his ear. Jaskier’s blush deepens as he does so, but he shivers in the cold.

“Here.” Geralt unclasps the thick cloak from around his neck and sweeps it over Jaskier’s shoulders. Jaskier’s mouth forms a little o of surprise and he looks up at Geralt, something tender in his eyes.

Geralt’s gaze is caught by the snow flakes settling on Jaskier’s lashes; he’s so focused that he almost jumps when Jaskier reaches out to take his hand. The sky seems to glow with a soft orange light as the clouds reflect the last few fires in the town below; everything is warm with Jaskier’s hand in his despite the chill in the air.

“Thank you,” Jaskier says softly. “For being here with me.” And leaning in, his breath caressing over Geralt’s face, he touches his lips to Geralt’s cheek in a ghost of a kiss.

Suddenly it occurs to Geralt that this will be it, tomorrow they’ll head back on the path like none of this ever happened, no more holding hands or being close, no more being introduced as Jaskier’s betrothed. And despite the hellish parts of this experience he really doesn’t want it to end. He likes being Jaskier’s person, and he likes Jaskier being his.

They are still standing close together, mere inches between them, and it’s no effort at all to lean in, slowly, cautiously, to find Jaskier’s lips with his own, to place a tentative kiss there. And then Jaskier’s hands are fisting in his shirt and tugging him closer still, and his arms go around his waist and Jaskier is kissing him back like he’s been waiting for it, their mouths slotting together like they were made to fit each other, and everything is blazingly bright like the white of the snow.

When they pull apart they stay with foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air, and Geralt can see a smile cracking wide over Jaskier’s face.

“I like being engaged to you,” Geralt says quietly, unable to keep it in.

Jaskier’s smile widens even further. “I like being engaged to you too,” he says. He kisses him again. “Fiancé.” Another kiss. “Husband to be.” And another. “Partner.” One more. “Beloved.”

“I like the sound of those.” He suspects he may be wearing the same dopey grin as Jaskier is.

“Then let’s make it official.” Jaskier bites his lip. “Marry me?”

Jaskier is a picture of perfection, eyes gleaming and cheeks ruddy, snowflakes in his hair. Geralt’s heart has always been right here.

“I’d be honoured.” He considers for a second. “But not in Lettenhove.”

Jaskier’s laugh sparkles with joy. “Anywhere but here.”

#PLEASE ENJOY THIS HOLIDAY ROMCOM NONSENSE #i am feeling festive and also sappy #geraskier #the witcher #my writing

[savorysatori]

— SCANNING: ✰ PINK PUNCH! 」 ✭

“Sugar, I ain’t no dummy, dummy.”

I. — SYNOPSIS. you could sense the stares he was giving you. it was obvious, he liked you. who wouldn’t? you were his type and you knew it - now nothing could stop you from being with him.

II. WARNINGS. stepdad!atsumu, oral (m!receiving), facial. impact play, office sex, infidelity. pervy tsumi’, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, pseudo.

III. % WORD COUNT. 2.9k.

✰ @sugawara-sweetheart DECADENCE COLLAB.

“Don’t you realize? I’m the one.” soft words rung in his ears. He kept remembering them over and over again, throughout hours of the day. No matter the times he’s told himself that you weren’t, he felt that same sting in his heart. Maybe you were the one, he just couldn’t admit it.

The bittersweet taste of the lollipop sat wedged between your lips. The sun shining down on you from above didn't feel like it would burn in the slightest. The breeze blowing past your face didn't feel nearly as cold. Your tongue darted out, quickly lapping up the sweet and salty liquid that had begun to drip down your chin. Twirling the lollipop from in your mouth, you’d look up at the sky, taking in the blue that would seemingly be your final palette. You close your eyes, feeling a small smile grace your face. It was spring. Bright and early with flocks of birds chirping in the crisp air; squirrels already jumping from one tree to another. You always loved this time of the year. The air so fresh and comfortable, unlike the hot, sticky summer that would soon come. Enjoying the little things about this season, especially when your eyes drifted towards him.

Atsumu stood by the grill flipping a pair of burgers. He seemed a lot vibrant nowadays, less withdrawn and often smiling. He had also let his hair grow out, making him seem much more approachable. It was hard to believe he was your step-father, he was so young. Rocking the age of only twenty-six with a few grey strands. Something you would never dream of having. Not at his age, and certainly not in your current state. He was a handsome man, despite having bore a strong resemblance to his mother. Not to mention all the girls that had crushes on him; girls from your school fanning over him, asking for his number. Like you’d give it to them. You liked to keep certain things to yourself, play with them till they were wrapped around your fingers for you to toy with.

It was quite easy to not have to do those things though. He was already infatuated with you the minute you had introduced yourself, the soft words of your name slipping off the tip of your tongue to draw him in. which, succeeded. The stares are what gave it away, feeling his eyes bore into your back when the slight material of your shirt raised further than usual. Shorts tighter to show off the crease of your hips, for you to sway around right in front of him. You teased him. Lured him in with an innocent smile and alluring eyes, making him fall into a deeper pit of need. Who could blame you? You were just too insatiable to resist.

Atsumu wouldn’t blame you — he couldn’t. It was hard to keep his demeanor straight when you were around, drowning out conversations of his friends to hear your little laughs. Push away any work that kept him up to peek into your room, seeing you flesh into the feeling of pleasure. He knew you touched yourself at night, he watched. With no shame. Daring himself to go in, to feel you caress your body for him, whisper words that would make him drool over you. You were a sensual person, and he knew you could make any man moan if you so chose. Atsumu was never worthy of you, no matter how hard he tried to be. He wanted you to be the one, but he wouldn’t let you. Not when he was stuck in a loveless marriage he agreed to.

You were all he wanted from life, and yet you weren't even his. Somehow you found it all very amusing, a twisted sort of humor that had taken you over the past days. You were young yet deviant. Knowing exactly what you wanted, earning the power to get it and if you wanted him you were going to get him. Giving him the same stares back — fluttering lashes with thighs slight spread, matching his energy. It was all for him. The way he would look at you, the way you would look back with adoration and love. Your body ached for him, and you licked your lips knowing they were sweet and tingled for him to touch.

Knock knock. It came from his office door, lifting his head up to see.

“I brought some punch.”

A tray laid delicately in your hands as you walked into the neatly tied office, two full cups of punch sprinkling in the glass. The smell of the sweet drink making his mouth water, the thought of drinking it all just to quench his thirst crossed his mind. Slipping in past the curtains, you set the tray down on the table and looked at him, a smile quirking your from the side of his mouth as he leant back against his chair.

“Thank you,” he said in a gentle tone, you nodded with a calm face, lifting out the chair to sit down across from him and accepted a cup from the tray. "Here." he lifted the cup with a dimpled smile and held it out to you. You looked into his deep brown eyes, the sparkle of gold hiding in the depths of them, with longing. He had wanted you to be the one. You could see it in his eyes, the way he looked at you, the things he wanted to say. You were his everything. You wanted it too, deep down in the darkest parts of your soul. The urge was there, to reach out and grab him with both hands.

Pull him closer, breath against breath, his face was so close to yours. This close, you could feel his warm breath on your lips and smell the scent of him. You wanted to lean in closer, to taste his lips with yours. You looked at him, dragging your gaze away from his lips as you met his eyes.

“I know what you want, Atsumu.” you breathed. The sound of your lips moving was just a whisper.

His dark eyes moved over your face, the gold flecks catching the light, as he hummed. He opened his mouth to say something, the same smug grin plastered on his face. “Yeah? And, what’s that?”

“Me.”

The tray crashed to the ground as you leaned forward to fasten your arms around his neck. His arms came up to wrap around your waist as he pulled you closer, leaning in to lock your lips with his. You felt the rush of the kiss, the spark passing between you both as your lips met. The smell of him, the taste of him. The warmth of him. His lips were warm and gentle as they brushed against yours, his palm gripping your side to pull you flush against him with force. You felt your stomach flutter at the sensation, leaning into him as your breasts pressed into his chest. His hair was silken under your fingers as you ran them through it, holding him close. You were sweet, as he had known, but now he could taste it on you. The feeling of you, of your lips and hands around him. The closeness that he felt with you within the kiss. His lips moved eagerly over yours, and you opened your mouth under him as your tongue slid into his mouth. You tasted of sugar and honey, and it made him feel warm all over.

It was exhilarating, and wild. The taste of him, the smell of him. The new sensations that his kiss sent through your own body were overwhelming, and you felt as though you would drown in them. His hand on your side moved up to cup your breast, and his lips moved over yours with a new urgency. His kiss grew more aggressive, and his fingers moved with more confidence along the back of your thigh under the table to rest on your knee. You arched into him, the cool air on your wet cheek making you whine with each breath.

“Atsumu.”

He almost fell forward from the sound of your strained voice, lidded eyes darting with the movements you made, sliding down between his thighs with a gleam in your eyes. You pulled his trousers and boxers down in quick succession, your hand maneuvering to the thick girth of his cock, eyelids heavy with lust looking over it with intent. He looked at you with a mixture of anticipation and bliss, something you were warming up to, gripping him firmly as you began to pump your hand up and down, slick with pre-cum. His lips tingled and burned as he ran his tongue over them, tasting your breath with every kiss, tasting the sweetness of the cold punch.

He looked down at his knees, feeling as though they would buckle under him as you continued to pump your hand on him. His legs trembled, and he clenched his jaw as you fixed him with a stare. Suddenly, you lowered your head, taking the tip of his head between your lips, sucking lightly as you circled your tongue. He tasted of honey and sweat, the sweet taste driving you mad with lust. His hand gripped your hair as he pulled you down, deep-throated, reveling in the feeling of your mouth on him. Lost in the act of ecstasy, He pumped his hips slowly, finding his rhythm as you kept up the suction, stroking him fast with your hand. Breaths came in thick pants down his chest, and he could only gasp as he held you there, relishing in the feeling of euphoria flowing through his recked brain.

“Christ, ‘m so close..” As he felt his orgasm rise, you dropped your mouth, his hips stuttering from the loss, his head hung low with heavy huffs.

His knees shook and gave out as he released onto your face, the feeling so intense that he could do nothing but grow still as you continued to suck, even if the sticky fluid dropped down your chin. The taste of him filled your mouth, as you pulled him out slowly, letting the last few drops slide down your throat. Looking at him, you could see the remnants of his essence on your lips. You licked your lips, smiling as you wiped them clean, wiping the remaining away with a soft flick of your fingers. The bittersweet taste leaving your mouth. He stayed still, feeling himself come back down to reality as his breathing slowed. He looked at you, his lips twitching upwards in a half smile. The fire had gone out in the hearth, leaving only embers that barely gave off any light, and you shifted your weight, feeling the fabric of your sundress dress shift and pull tight across your skin. You felt cold in comparison to the heat that had been building up inside of you. Ice coursing through your veins with heat swiveling between the two of you. Standing up to lean against the wood pressing against your inner thigh, keeping eye contact.

Leaning into you as his hands moved to the lacing of your dress. He slid the dress down your shoulders, watching it fall to the ground in a pool of lace, leaving you in only your undergarment. Your skin tingled and burned, and you knew that you didn't feel as cold any longer. His fingers traced patterns along your collarbone and down your bare arms, leaving trails of fire along their paths. You arched into him, both of your hands moving to grab onto his back as the kiss continued. You pulled him into you, wanting nothing more than to feel as much of him as you could. Your stomach flip-flopped, and you found your legs weakening as his hand found your hip. The both of you wanted nothing but to make each other feel good, chase the pleasure. Just pulling him closer as you felt his lips curve into a smile against yours.

Atsumu’s fingers found the clasp of your bra, releasing it as he pushed the cups of the bra down your arms. The cool air hit your skin, and he pulled away to stare down at you. He kicked the fallen dress out of the way, your heartbeat heavily in your chest, and you couldn't tear your eyes away from him as he lifted one of your legs as though you were some prize he had won. His eyes never left yours as he slid his hands under your back and held you up, basking in the sweet sensation fanning over, his cock tucked in your cunt as he lowered you down more to hear the moans fill the air.

You felt your insides burning, stretching to accommodate him. The sweet touch of his cock clouded your brain with images of him burning through, your eyes fluttering open to see him determined with mind set on sending you to see stars, feeling him push inside of you with a pulse that made your toes curl. You couldn't get enough of him, or else you wouldn't get enough. The waves of pleasure built and built, and you never wanted it to end as he picked up the pace. The warmth spreading through you, the energy flowing, it was too much. You never wanted him to stop, but felt his hands grip your hips as he pumped into you roughly. It wasn't enough, not nearly enough, and although you wanted to beg for him to continue, all that escaped your lips was a strangled gasp as his name passed your lips. His pace never slowing, if anything it only increasing as he groans out, iching your name as the impact of his hand colliding down onto your thigh sent your mind to tumble over.

“Fuck, yer’ gonna drive me crazy, sugar. This is somethin’ we shouldn’t be doin.. but, f-fuck you’ll make me leave her in a heartbeat.”

Feelings you tried to keep locked deep down were unleashed, and for once they weren't negative ones. He felt so good inside of you, just right. You never took the time to care, you wanted him, he wanted you. You were gonna get him. Only now did you realize that your thighs were painted red with handprints from him, stinging with a delightful feeling of pain. Atsumu was groaning out in love, your name seeming to be caught in his throat as he followed soon after, whispering the laced words you’ve been wanting to hear all night.

“You’re the one.”

Panting, his hips stuttered into still, and he gritted his teeth as his eyes clenched shut. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes to look down at you, and something seemed to catch in his throat. His cock ached to release, and you knew, sliding your warm depths from around him, only to make him whine. break him down. He reached his hand down to grab your thigh, pulling you close as he lifted his weight off of you. His lips caught yours, his tongue pushing inside as he tasted himself on your lips. It wasn't enough, not nearly enough, and you wanted more. He laid on top of you, and you were able to feel the weight of his chest pressing into your own. His muscles were thick and strong, and the strength that they held humbled you. His kisses continued down your neck, his warm breath and his tongue tickling the sensitive skin sending shivers down your spine.

You wanted him so bad, and the sweet fire that was building in your core threatened to consume you. He moved his body, sliding himself against your slick folds as you cried out, only to moan when he slipped inside. Just the way you like it, slow and steady. One hand gripped your side, the other ran through your hair as his lips nipped at your ear. Every thrust pushed you closer and closer to the edge, as did every word he said. Each smack against your ass made you whine louder, his office stuffed with sensual air coming from the both of you. He whispered sweet nothings in your ear, made promises of unimaginable pleasure, all the while his hand would squeeze your hip and you would fall over the rim. You couldn't take anymore. The wave inside of you growing larger and larger, you reached your arms up, wrapping them around his back as your fingers dug into those muscles.

You clawed at him, wanting more, needing more. The tense in his shoulders made you knew, his breathing hitching as your name escaped his lips. His warm seed filled you as you felt him twitch deep inside of you, giving you more, giving you the moment to throw your head back and cum from the ecstasy, the sound of drums banging in your head. You could feel your heart beating, heard the blood rushing through your ears as your whole body shook with each pulse sent from your heart. You were floating, flying, and you couldn't care less if you drowned in this bliss. The sweet blissful feeling.

The sweetness overjoyed you. Briskly morning with the sun out, bluebirds chirping in the air of steam coming from the grill set out. It was just you and him, basking in the warmth of it all, a gentle breeze sweeping the ruffles of your dress. There you were, taking each step against the concrete floor, tray in your hand with two full glasses of pink punch. You walked along, each sip refreshing and warming you from the inside out. The tray balanced evenly in your hands, you made your way down the rows and rows of lawn chairs and umbrellas spread out across the backyard, trailing over to him.

Leant over with head tilted, a soft smile stretched on your face like always.

“Would ya’ like some punch?”

#atsumu x reader #atsumu smut #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #decadencecollab!🏩 #cw impact play #cw stepcest #cw pseudo #dark!!✩ #🤍.tsumi’

[thatlongspringnight]

A Crown in Springtime (Jungkook x Fem!Reader)

summary: When Jungkook caught the eye of the queen that night, he didn’t realize just how much it would change his life for the better.

pairing: Jungkook x female Reader

genre: arranged marriage au, lust at first sight, romance

word count: 6.2k

❂ amorentia in spring

⁂ hosted by: professor amora through @bangtansorciere​

⤐  au type: daffodil

⤐  themes: spring, honeymoon

⤐  kinks: Edging ⤞ Praise ⤞ Cunninglus ⤞ Fingering ⤞ Handjob ⤞ Thigh Riding ⤞ Hair Pulling ⤞ Creampie ⤞ 

Jungkook is nervous, it bleeds into him like the cold of midwinter, a stark difference from the blossoms of early spring that surround him. Even now, in the sunshine of early morning, he shivers, nerves leaving him tense as he feigns calm, leaning back on the veranda as though nothing has changed, nothing is different, letting the sun soak into his bones. 

But everything has changed. He’s more tense now then he was a day ago, when he was kneeling at the ancient altar, handfasting himself to a woman he barely knew for life, for the hereafter too….And not just any woman. His liege, his queen...now his wife. His father had talked of nothing else for the last two months...since...since the betrothal. All he could speak on was the arrangement, brooking no talk or protest from him, nothing but smiling and acceptance. 

A savior - his father had called her, the queen their savior, rescuing them from poverty. 

“She chose you.” It had been repeated so many times, the idea that he should be grateful, grateful for this arranged marriage. He should be full of joy even, plucked from obscurity to marry her. But...but he doesn’t know her, he can’t wrap his mind around why she would pick him She could have anyone after all...so why him? 

Before the wedding...he could count the number of times he had seen her on one hand. A - A little older than him, a couple of years, maybe - he hadn’t known a world where she had not been queen. She had grown up with a crown on her head, a sword in her palm, and the shadow of a dynasty weighing on her shoulders. A child queen raised on tales of her ancestors, long dead, war and conquest. He...He had heard that she had been in want of a husband.

His father had even suggested his older brother, his heir - but never once had his name been mentioned. Not until....not until that night - two months ago, when - when she had smiled at him, eyes alight in mirth and something he didn’t have a name for yet, asking him to dance after a dinner.

They had gone to court for the winter celebration, and he had felt her eyes on him during the meal, offering her a soft smile, as - as was proper.

She’d asked him to dance, first - his thoughts repeated, an honor, one that had given him the warmth of her palm in his, her eyes trailing up his face.

“Your hair.” She had murmured, a hand going to play with the strands. “Blue like the ocean.” His own personal magic, how the fae had manifested in him. He wondered how it manifested in her…

Either way…was that why? Was that why she had picked him? Not even two days after, she had offered his father...and the deed had been done..all leading up to yesterday, kneeling at the altar, him bedecked in clothes woven of silver thread, blue sapphires dripping from them, from the crown she laid on his head. Joining him at the altar, covered in gold. He felt like the moon, lit only by her golden glow. 

Somehow, somehow he had made it through, repeating ancient vows that dipped magick into his blood, feeling their bond form as sure and strong as the rope that bound their hands. Somehow that day had faded to night, banquets and being whisked away - a honeymoon in the mountains - early spring blossoms filling the air with perfume. 

A honeymoon, but still - no bride. The thought alone is enough to stir something, a gentle sigh making him jolt. Her, he knows its her, he can feel it, looking up to meet her amused gaze. The - the queen, his queen, he dips his head, scrambling to sit properly, to bow…

At least until her fingertips press his forehead, stilling him instantly.

“No Need.” her voice still shocks him, calm and easy - sweet too - like the last drops of sap from a tapped tree at the end of winter. “Especially not here.” 

“....Not here?” 

“You haven’t noticed?” She smiles now, and it makes him feel warm. “We’re all alone. No one dares to interrupt their queen on her honeymoon.” He’s watching her, stepping to sit beside him, legs dangling like his were just moments before. 

“And...and if we weren’t alone?” He curses how slowly the words seem to come to him, trailing and trembling in her presence, but he can’t help it. His position feels uncertain, her husband, but what does that make him. He’s no king. 

“Then you’d only need to nod your head.” She hums, a hand lifting up, moving to block the light, to let the sun’s rays break between her fingertips. “You’re a prince now, anyway, my darling, people will be bowing to you.” She says it so easily, like it doesn’t alter his entire life. “But….between us.” She continues. “I’d like it to be different.” This is the most she’s ever spoken to him, and he finds himself entranced at her lips, the way she forms words. 

“Different?” He mumbles, barely aware he’s asked.

“Different, friends at least.” She tilts her head to look at him. “Maybe even more.”

“F-Friends?” he questions, eyes widening. “With me?” “Is that so odd?” She snorts. “To want to be friends with my husband?” “....No.” He answers after a moment. “Well  - just a little.” 

“At the end of the day, I’m just a normal girl, you know.” Words he doesn’t believe, not even for a moment. 

The day passes, the coolness of the morning fading to a gentle heat, and he learns - Jungkook learns about his wife. 

More than he’s bargained for.

“Oh come on, don’t be like that.” She pushes her own plate of food at him. “Here, eat up.” They are lounging again, on the veranda, which seems to be her favorite place, his too, where the breeze is gentle, and the flowers bloom so heavily nearby it smells like a garden. “It will get cold and you won’t want it.” Its a simple pronouncement, one that makes him pout. 

“How do you know?” He answers her, watching how her lips twitch into a smile. “Maybe i want it cold.” “As your Queen, I demand you eat.” That pronouncement is met with him grumbling, before he sits up, a look in his eyes that makes her raise an eyebrow. 

“Feed me then.” Jungkook demands, a petulant lilt to his voice, even as he tries to hide his smile.

“What?”

“Feed me.”He gives her a grin, one that makes her heart beat quicken, not that he knows, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Come on - “ He throws her words from before back in her face. “Feed me or else everything’s going to get cold.”

“What a baby.” The woman complains, not at all fooled by the sweet look on his face. “You’re not playing fair, Jungkook.” His name, whenever she says it, makes his stomach flutter with butterflies. Still, he doesn’t even pout at being called a baby, too triumphant at her shifting to face him, reaching to pick up a slice of meat, offering it to him. “Your highness.” She mocks, and he could only snicker, enjoying the taste on his tongue.

It is delicious.

“So good – its delicious.” The smile he shot her was enough to make the woman feel a brush of something she chose not to name. Damn this boy, damn him for making doing something so simple as eating so attractive.

 It made her want to tease him, and that made her smile, something he notices. “You – you gave in really easily.” Jungkook spoke after a moment of comfortable silence. She had, this woman who had led his people in war, had fed him just now, without much protest at all. “Maybe you can feed me every day.” Did he enjoy it? Yes, of course he did, but unfortunately for him, the words seemed to click something into place for her.

 “Oh, you want me to feed you every day?” The woman purred, managed to snag a bite of her own food before setting down her plate. The air shifts, a shiver coursing through him, the trees seeming to shiver too. “Tell me something, Jungkookie.”

“W-What?” He speaks, a bit of alarm on his face as she leaned over him, her body suddenly very close. “T-Tell you what?”

 “Ahh..” She settles herself close to him. So close, their shoulders touch, and when she leans over, their noses nearly brush. “Tell me, are you sure you want this every day?” This time, when she offers him food, he is slower to take it, his cheeks warm. It feels heady, being close to her like this, and he wonders if this intimacy will ever feel anything other than clandestine. “Jungkook, I asked you a question.”

 “Ngh.” The boy looked up, his nose brushing hers. “I – I wouldn’t mind.” He breathes. Her chest was too close to his face, and the skin she exposed…it was right there. His lips could brush her collarbones if he looks straight ahead. Suddenly a warm day felt blazing hot. “I – I’m thirsty – “ He managed to speak, unsure of how he even got his voice to work.

 “Thirsty?” A teacup was balanced in her hand in an instant, her hold graceful…almost delicate. “Tea, your highness?”

“Don’t call me that.” He protests. “I – you’re the Queen - I’m just - “ “You’re my husband.” She answers, offering him a sip. “Your highness is an appropriate title.” 

“But to you, I should just be Jungkook.” He answers her, and she can only smile. 

“Can I taste too?” its a shift in conversation, but Jungkook nods, assuming she’d just…take a drink from his cup – which is why his brain short circuits the moment the cup was pulled away, replaced by her lips.

 Cherry blossom tea is at first just a hint of salt – one that fades to a mellow sweetness, floral notes and plum. Jungkook thinks to himself. Those grounded musings lost at her lips. She is kissing him, and he is overwhelmed, the taste of her and the cherry blossom tea an all too dangerous combination for him, leaving him lightheaded. She is kissing him -  and he could have whined, the angle of their bodies meaning he couldn’t move his hands from the ground, or they’d both tumble over.

 And he didn’t want to lose the fierceness of her kiss -  her hands in his hair, tugging at the strands hard enough for him to whimper, the sound lost as her tongue explored his mouth, stealing the taste of tea from his lips.

 He is on fire, he is in bloom under her touch.

 And then she pulls away, panting against his lips, her own cheeks flushed.

 “I like it – the tea. Its good on its own…but its better tasting it on your lips, pretty boy.” Jungkook could faint.

 “I – y-you can’t just….you can’t just say things like that!”

“Do you need a moment?” She is stretching out like a cat in the sun. “We should make flower crowns next, my prince.” 

Jungkook truly looks like a fish out of water in that moment, his mouth opening and closing in shock, and She could’ve laughed at the blush high on his cheeks. She had got him right where she wanted him, he realizes. The lilt to her voice was teasing as she gives him a knowing smirk. “What’s wrong, Jungkook?” 

 “I-“ He gulps, unable to speak, the taste of salt and honey still strong on his tongue from their kiss. It is too much- she is too much. “A-Actually, my throat is still dry.” He clears his throat once, then twice as if he was trying to prove it to her. “I might n-need another drink...”

 “Well, that is a problem, isn’t it.” She tilts her head to the side in mock sympathy and he nods, almost a little too eagerly, giving it away.

 “It is, yes. Maybe- maybe you could help me drink again?”

 “Hmm, I could...but you also have two perfectly good hands to use so.” She shrugged. “That sounds more like a problem than a me problem.”

 “But maybe I’d rather use my hands for...other things.” He is trying to tempt her- and failing miserably as she barely spared him a second glance, too busy focusing on gathering the materials for the flower crowns, something that he wasn’t as interested in now as he had been before.

 “Well that’s good, seeing as you’ll need them to make your crown. What flowers did you want?”

Making flower crowns was relaxing – that is the thought after a few minutes, as he hummed softly, twisting the flowers around the ribbon, grinning as they connected. It was unconscious, he sways softly, humming under his breath. He used to make so many of them, for the whole court…and his father would always pick his over his brother’s…

 “Ugh – “ The frustrated sound from beside him, pulls him from his memories, and he pauses, listening softly to the woman’s grumbles. Glancing down, he finds a bit of a mess, and it made him grin – he didn’t want to say anything though – not wanting to break her focus – that is until she hissed through her teeth, the flowers literally bursting from their ribbon, scattering around her.

 “Gah – “She grimaces, and he laughs outright, her head whipping around at the sound, finding him already wearing his…

 And it was beautiful…of course.

 “Having some trouble– “

“Its not easy.” She huffs. “You must be cheating somehow.”

“I did not!” Jungkook protests. “I just have more experience is all  - “

“I can’t do it.” She straight up whines, and Jungkook grins, giggling in earnest, scooting closer to her. How was she so cute, struggling like this, gathering up her flowers. In this moment she is just a girl, and he is just a boy - He can’t help but be brave.

 “Here...”He croons,  reaching for her, pulling her closer so he can watch. “Let me teach you.” Only after does he realize how informal he’s being, shooting her a worried glance, only to be met by a little pout. 

 “I-I don’t need any help!” She curses under her breath, her stammer hardly hidden as she gives him a little glare. “I can do it!”

“Here.” His chin rested on her shoulder, hands gently taking hers in his. “You made your stems too short so they were harder to wrap.” Those flowers get set aside as he picks others from the pile. “These longer ones will work better.

 She was silent as she watched him manipulate her hands with his own, twisting the flowers so it entwined with the ribbon, the dyed material looking so good against his skin. 

 “...try?” The sudden baritone of his voice makes her jump.

 “What?”

 “I said, why don’t you try.” He has the gall to sound amused and she finds herself scowling at his grin. Even if she couldn’t see it- she felt it. “Let’s try to pay more attention when I’m teaching you, alright?”

 “Give me that.” She grabs the flower crown from him, ignoring the sound of his laugh, his body shaking next to her. Jungkook watches her, how she furrows her brows, grabbed another flower- daisies this time, and carefully winds it around the ribbon like he had showed her, focusing hard on her task.

She’s beautiful, he thinks to himself, wistful almost. Beautiful, and he’s hers. 

Beautiful, and wants him just as bad as he wants her - something he finds out the next morning, the veranda a place of more than just relaxing in the sunshine. 

“You should call me Noona.” Her voice is a purr against his ear, the kind that makes Jungkook shiver, tensing against her light touch. And it is like, fingers trailing his skin, delicate in the way they touch him, make him yearn for more...its...unexpected, how she makes him feel desirable and full of desire for her all at once. 

“N-Noona - “ He stammers, breath hitching at her fingertips parting the robe he’s wearing, dancing across his chest. “Ngh - you - “ “You’re so pretty.” She murmurs. “I wanna make you feel good.” He’s tensing at that, but the pit in his stomach is full of butterflies and aching, nothing like fear clinging to him now. “I don’t want you to regret...this...with me.” “This…?” he asks, confusion bleeding into his tone. “This...now?” “Now - and...our marriage.” She confesses, face dipping lower, lips ghosting across the juncture of his throat. “I want to make it worth it for you.” “Why is it worth it for you?” He wonders aloud. “I’m no one at all - “ “You’re magic itself.” She counters, and this time its a kiss against his neck, not just lips, this time her hand finds purchase on his chest, fingernails a dull scrap against his skin. It feels good, and he whines softly, adjusting to the feeling. “Beautiful, sweet - Strong.” She says, and she can feel his cheeks heat. “What, is it embarrassing to hear?” She sounds almost amused, blowing lightly at the strands of his hair, soft blue in the clear, cloudless sunshine.

“T-That - “ He nearly chokes on his own spit. “That - that’s taking it a little too far.” Its almost scolding. “How can you know that?’

“I want to know everything there is to know about you.” She answers. “And to show you all of me, too, if you...if you’ll let me.” 

“I want to...to see you.” He answers, honestly, after a moment. “You’re my wife after all, my bride.” There is a smile, hers, against his skin. 

“Such a good boy.” She praises, and he cannot help the pleased feeling under his skin, the way he nods, preening a little under her words. “Such a pretty, darling man.” Her hand, trailing lower, bringing new, ticklish feelings to his skin.

This type of affection wasn’t altogether new to him, romps with boys and girls in the stables up...up until recently, but this is different too, there is a feeling there he’s not used to, a longing coming from the woman that registers in his heart. 

He can feel her loneliness, the ache in her soul - and he wants to fill it as best he can. Maybe that’s what she had seen in him that night, that same feeling - deep in his heart - that deep alone that kept him up at night. 

So he kisses her, adjusting so he’s nearly in her lap, back to her chest, turning to catch her gaze. His lips meet hers and he sees her eyes widen, before his own shut, one of her hands coming to cup his cheek, thumb stroking idly against his skin. It’s sweet - soft, at least for a moment. But they’re both ravenous, he realizes, when it’s his hands that find purchase on the dainty silk robe that hid her form. Ravenous as she bites at his bottom lip, earning a whine, a whimper - when he looks up again, there is something molten in her gaze, and in his stomach. 

He wants her, and - 

“Ngh -“ he muffles the sound of surprise in his throat as she shifts them, so now it’s her, legs parted on either side of his thigh, sitting with her hands pressed against his chest. “I - I -“ 

“You?” She asks, like she hasn’t put them in a compromising position, little smirk at her lips. “Cat got your tongue, Jungkook?” Her thumb parts his lips, delight on her face as he opens his mouth, lets her press it to his tongue. “I’d be glad to have your tongue on my kitten.” The slang is enough to make him sweat, heat prickling against his skin. 

He’s wearing too many clothes - even if all he’s in is a night robe, the mid morning sun has left him languid and warm, her touch has set fire to his skin - and her - so close to him, nose brushing at the skin of his cheek, coaxing him closer, mouth meeting his with more fervor, hands tangling in his hair. 

She’s pulling at the strands, drawing a whine from his lips as her hips rock forward, as his hands find purchase on her hips - registering what she’s doing before his mind catches up. 

“N-noona -“ it’s a moan as they part, him panting softly, him trying his best to capture her lips again, only for her to evade. “I want to kiss you.” 

“Do you?” She asks, a soft hum on her lips as she brushes them by his ear, earning a shiver. “Badly?” 

“Everywhere.” He’s feeling bolder now, straightening his posture so he can give her more - tensing the muscles of his thighs as she rocks - rewarded with a surprised, pleased little noise, even more at how he shifts her himself, across the strength of his thigh, exposed now. 

“Not worried we’re going to get caught?” She asks, met with beautiful, darkened eyes. 

“You said that I didn’t have to worry about anyone disturbing us.” He reminds. “Who’d dare interrupt their queen?” He mimics her voice from before, pleased when she laughs, when she grips lightly at his hair, tugging again just to make him whine.

“Brat.” But her tone is fond, like she’s seen him and found nothing displeasing in the least. “But you’re right, no one would dare.” She eyes him, noting the way his hands grip at her, eager to get her out of her clothes. “Don’t you try it.” She warns before he can act. “Seeing me naked is something that you’ll have to earn I’m afraid.” Even as she says that, her hand is grasping at the tie around his, her eyes meeting his own, seeking a silent permission he gives readily. 

The ribbon holding it closed is pulled away, her hand making contact with his lower stomach. Dipping lower, finding purchase on something that makes him hiss. 

“A-Ah - “ “Hard.” She poses, and its not a question, its an observation. He’s hard. “Pretty.” She tacks on. “Even your cock is pretty.” He feels like he could combust, head dropping to hid in the crook of her neck.

“N-Noona.” He whines. “Don’t say that.” 

“Come on, Jungkookie.” There is a note of challenge to her tone. “Are you just going to sit here while I touch your dick? Or are you going to help your wife, hm?  She glances at his hands on her hips, looking back up at him. 

Its enough, he’s back at it, biting his lip as she touches him, and her touch is light, light as she trails fingertips against the head of his cock, dips them down to grasp at him, pulling her hand away so she can lick her palm. He’s entranced, only shifting her hips because she told him to, entirely too focused on her damp palm meeting his skin again, dragging up, up, up.

But that’s not the only sensation. Its her, rutting against his thigh when he’s not fast enough, thumbing at his tip. He is conscious of his moans, soft and eager, and that’s about it, overwhelmed with the feeling.

“N-Noona - “ “Beautiful.” She answers him, and he can feel her - her essence against his skin, he’s flustered. “Lazy.” She teases and he whines, this time actually dragging her against his thigh. Again, then again, over and over - movements faltering as her drag up his skin sped up.

It - it was so hard to focus - 

“I-It would be easier if I was inside you.” He finally counters, words catching up with his thoughts - and that gets a reaction, her thighs clamping around his, her movement stuttering. “If y-you let me - “ “Already at the business of begetting heirs?” her palm slips from him and he whimpers. “Not yet, if you want it, I need it first.” She warns. She doesn’t mind being selfish, he already knows - and he doesn’t mind it either. 

“Then let me give it to you.” He’s pulling away, eyeing her. “Let me - let me worship you, on my knees, since you’re my...my queen - my wife.” and he is on his knees, already, something that clearly pleases her.

“Worship me?” She asks, perching up on her hands, legs stretched out in front of her. “You mean between my thighs, where you belong, right?” His cock is still hard, she muses, still throbbing and leaking, and eager - but making him wait was good, bringing him close to the edge and then not letting him…

Perfect.

“Can I?” He asks again, needing more than that from her. “Please - “ “You should talk less.” She answers him. “You’re wasting time you could be worshipping me.” It spurs him forward, but she meets him halfway. He is pushed down, pulled forward, till his nose was brushing against her core, silk robe falling around exposed hips and soon enough her legs were resting on his shoulders, holding him in place. He looked up, finding her flushed, seemingly eager. 

“This – this is what you want?”

“Come on, Kookie –  You said you wanted to worship me, to be on your knees before me...So…why don’t you show me what that mouth does…besides teasing.”

 “Ngh -!” Jungkook flushes hard at the crude words that fall from her lips, his whole body uncomfortably hot. He wants to hide his face from her dark gaze but with the firm grip she had on his hair, he couldn’t move. Even then, he isn’t sure he could, trapped in her gaze the way he was. “V-Vulgar.”

 “I’m just telling you what I want, Jungkookie. You said you were going to….so do it.” The way she is looking at him makes that fire ignite in his blood again, a deep sense of desire and wanting.

 Because she is right. Jungkook wants to watch as she fell apart, her thighs trembling from around his head, his name like a prayer on her lips as her back arched with pleasure. 

 He wants nothing more.

 “Okay.” He murmurs, pressing sweet kisses to her thighs, intent on getting her just as hot as he felt. “You’re so wet for me, Noona.” Slowly, he ghosts his mouth over her core before going to press kisses to her other thigh, not missing the way she tensed and let out a little huff when he passed over her center.

 “I’d be wetter if you actually used your tongue on me.”

 “Maybe so.” He hums, letting his thumb brush over her clit, the corners of his lips twitching upwards at her soft whimper and he wonders if she tastes as sweet as the noises she makes, as sweet as the honey that he had tasted on her tongue earlier. Jungkook lets his gaze rest on hers before giving an experimental circle of his tongue on her clit, the woman jolting at the touch.

 “J-Jungkook-!“

 He doesn’t pause, his eyes still on hers as he wraps pretty lips around her pearl, giving a gentle suck, just to see how she’d react, a finger drawing over her entrance.

 Jungkook is not disappointed at her reaction, her hands falling free of his hair, digging into the wood of the veranda beneath her. She moans, a pleased – heady sound, her heels pressing into his back, pushing him closer and closer to her core. So – so she liked that, then,  Jungkook took note, returning to kitten licking at her.

 Don’t try to overwhelm her with the first thing you find she likes, take your time, savor her, till she’s aching with need - advice from his older brother about what to do with girls - he’d taken it, and it had always seemed to work. he took a breath, his warmth ghosting over her as he pressed his finger against her.

 “Noona – c-can – can I?” Jungkook asked, wanting to make sure.

 “Yes –! ngh – “ She tenses at the feeling of his finger. “F-Fuck… please – “ He slid a finger inside of her, the feeling making him whimper against her core. She – she was so warm, clenching around him...

 “O-Oh –“ He couldn’t help press his hips against the floor, searching for friction. How was it going to feel…buried inside of her, the hot, and wet and – and tight. He really was going to have to work her over now…because he doubted he was going to last very long at all. “Noona – you – you feel – so good.” Her thighs pressed against his face, and her head was tossed back.

 “More – Kookie – more, y-you can be more rough with me.” His name on her lips, the endearment not lost on him, spoken so fondly, with such need – Jungkook can’t help himself but give in to her desires. Sliding his finger out, till she whined at the empty feeling, this time her thrust two in, harder, teeth just lightly grazing her clit. If – if she wanted rough –

 “A-Ah! Jungkook!” the moan was sinful, and more of a cry, a shudder going through her as she tenses – “Ngh…ah..” He is thrusting his fingers into her, sitting up to press a kiss to her stomach, to bite lightly at her skin.

 “Noona – Noona – you’re driving me crazy –“ The boy pants, still rutting into the floor. “You – ngh – you sound so hot, I – I can’t – “

“Jungkook- “ Her voice sounds almost scolding. “Don’t – don’t you dare get yourself off.” He froze, not realizing she could tell.”

“B-But…But Noona –“ he whines, met with her hands in his hair again, pulling roughly.

 “No – you – you’re pleasuring me now. Just me.”

 Just her...

 Jungkook wanted to pout, to whine more at her scolding. It- it was hard to not lose himself over in the sound of her moans, the cry of his name falling from her lips. He couldn’t help that he wanted to be inside of her, actually inside of her- not just his fingers. To have her clenched tight around him.

 “J-Jungkook, move..” His wife gives a little wriggle of her hips, huffing at the stilling of his fingers. Brat. Trying to get off by himself- like she wouldn’t notice the shift of his hip and his soft whimpers against her skin. She gives him a cool look from his place between her legs. “Unless you want me to finish what you started on my own-“

 “N-No!” He blurted, his doe eyes wide at her implication. “No, Noona.” He repeated, slowly resuming his finger work, her shuddering in response. “Let- let me take care of you.” And then his mouth was on her again, sucking, licking, his fingers crooking inside of her- crooking his fingers to find that spot that’d make her see stars. He’d know just by the way-

 “A-Ah -“ Her grip on his hair tightened, holding him in place. “Ngh, K-Kookie, right- right there.” She moans. “D-Don’t you dare stop.” She could feel him smirk against her and honestly, she would’ve said something if it didn’t feel so fucking good, his tongue flattening against her clit before circling around the nub. She was close, she could feel it- that pleasure growing tight like a bow that was being strung. She was just about to fall until-

 Until-

 “S-Stop -!”

 Her gasp took him by surprise, her pulling him away from her immediately. Jungkook blinked up at her, confusion on his face. She had told him not to stop before... Had- had he done something wrong? “Noona...?”

 “C-Come here.” She shifts then, pulling him up to her so she could capture his lips with hers, tasting herself on his tongue. Her hands dropped to his waist, a whine in Jungkook’s throat, his hips bucking against her hand as she palms at him again, a whimper as she bites down on his lip.

 “Ngh, Noona, why...why’d you have me stop?” He felt his dick twitch in her hand and gods, he wishes he could feel her properly. “Y-You were close, a-ah, I could feel it.”

 “I was, you’re right.” Finally- finally, she moves, grasping his hand to put it against the tie of her robe.. “But if I’m going to cum...then I want to be doing it around your cock- not your fingers. I want you to see all of me.” That’s all he needs, pulling at it, undoing it - watching the silk slip from her shoulders, slowly exposing all of her.

She’s beautiful, but he already knows that. 

 “Jungkook.” Her voice is breathy, and her fingers traced patterns against the skin of his chest as he takes her in. “Kookie – you’re – you’re breathtaking.” He whines softly, hiding his face against her neck again, clearly flustered at her words.

“I -  I should be telling you that - “ He protests, but she is unabashed.  

“Jungkookie…” A hand dipped lower, finding purchase on his cock, swollen, pre-cum dripping.

 He is big. And even his dick was pretty, smooth and straight, with a gentle curve upward, She thinks wryly, wondering how physical perfection had managed to manifest itself so clearly in this man. Like every bit was crafted to draw a reaction from her, to make her long for him, yearn for him, need to have him.

She had known from the moment she’d seen him. 

“Noona- “ 

“I’m yours to take.” She answers the unspoken question, pulling him to her, till he is gripping at her hips, glad that he had something to hold onto so his hands wouldn’t shake, the pads of his fingers digging into her flesh as he shifted her hips upwards. Slowly, slowly, he sinks into her. Glad not to have to wait anymore, a whine on his lips at her heat that surrounds him and he feels her stiffen, her mouth dropping open into an ‘o’ of pleasure. “N-Noona -“

 She is hot and...and so tight around him, clenched like a vice, and he knows- Jungkook knows that he won’t be able to last very long.

 “Ngh-“ A gasp leaves her throat at him suddenly thrusting inside. “K-Kook -“

 “A-Ah, Noona, I- ngh, I can’t help it.” He leans forward, pressing kisses to her neck, her hands coming up to grip at his shoulders. “You- you feel so good.”

“Do i?” She asks, his reaction more than enough to clarify, hips setting a pace that seems to surprise her. “Ngh - you - you feel good too.” 

“A-And you’re beautiful.” Jungkook finally feels brave enough to say it. “I - I’m a little terrified of you, b-but I don’t regret this.” Its sweet, in its own way, and it makes her laugh.

“I hope you never do.” She is kissing him again. 

“W-What about you?” He asks after a moment. “Do you r-regret it?” “Never.” She answers against his lips. “Now, stop this idle worrying, let me feel your cum dripping out of me, instead.”

 “N-Noona – you – you can’t say that.” Jungkook works on steadying himself, methodical in his thrusts, her words echoing in his head. That thought – the feeling of her, he can’t help thrust as deep as he can, feeling her nails dig into his skin, her small pleasured sounds filling the air. He could feel her tense, like this, his name falling from her lips as she gripped at him.

 “K-Kookie – there – that’s it. Ngh – just like that.” She wasn’t shy under him, her legs wrapping around his narrow hips, drawing a soft groan from him.

 “It – ngh – feels too good.” Jungkook whines, only to have her pull him into a kiss…one he wasn’t sure was to silence her or himself. Whatever it was, it was messy, teeth and tongue and sounds of pleasure.

 But – but – he can feel it, that same feeling in his stomach, and he knew he needed to finish her, rewarded with her flat out moan, the loudest sound he had heard come from her, heady and high, when his fingers met her bud, breaking their messy kisses to toss her head back, a shudder coursing down her body.

 “J-Jungkook - !” There it is, the boy is triumphant, rubbing at her roughly – its what she wanted after all – still pounding into her, thrusts growing more and more sloppy with every move. He could feel her again – too, the way she tenses and tightens, but even in his triumph he couldn’t help the words on his lips.

 “Please, please – please Noona, please cum.” He is begging, his own mind hazy with pleasure. “Ngh – need you too…really bad.” He didn’t know what possessed him, slamming into her enough to make him wince, but it was enough.

 It was too much – the feeling of her falling apart, how tight she was, pulsing against him, too much – and he -and he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

He empties himself in her, feeling very much so like a bucket, tossed to the ground, water spilled. 

“I told you no one would catch us.” She speaks after his breath settles, idly playing with his hair. “My dear husband.” “Y-You - I’m...I’m happy.” His words don’t fit hers, but they do all at once, telling her directly what she wanted to know. “That you chose me to give a crown to.” 

“Your magic sang to mine.” is all she says in return, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Your loneliness called to mine, because you were always meant to be mine...and i was always meant to be yours.” 

#bts fanfiction #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #bts romance #bts jungkook #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #bts #bangtan au #bangtan fic #ficswithluv #bangtanfairygarden #bangtanhq #bangtansorciere

[kamotoshi]

safe [chōsō x reader]

pairing: chōsō x fem sorcerer! reader

genre: fluff with (seriously faint) hints of angst

warning(s): contains manga spoilers for chapter 62!

word count: 2.3k

overview: after spending many years as a sorcerer, you’ve believed certain things to be true. but a chance meeting with a curse that’s developed into a deeper relationship changes your perspective.

notes: want some listening music? here are two songs that helped me write this: summer fling by kang + effervescent by toonorth

A quiet, but gasping breath fills your lungs with a pocket of cold air when you wake from a dead sleep with a start. Instinctively, your hand flies in front of you, directed towards the doorway to obliterate whatever intruder you automatically assume has roused you from your deep slumber. However, much to your surprise, you’re completely alone. Rubbing your eyes, you turn your head towards the alarm clock on your bedside table to check the hour.

Ah, it’s that time again.

With a gentle sigh, you slide out from beneath the warm covers, causing your skin to break out in a wave of goosebumps at the chill in your room that you throw on a sweater and pants to combat before heading to the kitchen of your small but cozy living quarters. Sleep refuses to relinquish its grip, and you ungracefully bump into a few surfaces in the process of preparing two, hot cups of tea and finding a blanket to drape around your shoulders.

The rush of crisp air that greets you when you finally make your way outside of your abode livens you up a bit, though, and you wrap your arms around yourself to retain as much warmth as you can. Following the stone path decorated with glowing lanterns brings you to the front gates of your school—a place you know to visit whenever you wake up with such a start in the dead of the night. The drinks in your hands radiate heat that staves off the bite of the cold as another gust of wind howls past you.

In the darkness of the night, only lit ever so faintly by the twinkling stars in the sky and the waning moon, your eyes search for the visitor who seems to have fallen into a habit of making their presence known around the same time on every odd evening. Sure enough, the thumping of heavy boots against the stone walkway winding near and through Jujutsu High’s campus draws your attention to a tall figure wandering around nearby. The baggy cream clothes draped over his body beneath a vest the hue of blood instantly give away his identity, along with the dark, spiked hair gathered neatly atop both halves of his head.

Before his name can leave your mouth, he turns around to face you, as if he senses your presence the same way you sense his on the nights that he chooses to visit. It’s almost as if he uses some unseen force to disturb you from your sleep so he can steal away anywhere from a few minutes to hours of your time. Of course, this possibility would seem at least the slightest bit insane to an average person, but, for you—a jujutsu sorcerer—it cannot be discounted for the sole reason of what your visitor is: a special grade curse.

Wordlessly, the man you’ve come to know as Chōsō after a twisted event that led to many more spontaneous encounters such as this approaches you. His dark gaze skims over your figure before settling on your own, making your heart thud gently in your chest. Placing his hands in his pockets, he glances at the drinks you’re holding and asks, “Will you come on a walk with me?”

As a sorcerer, it should be second nature to meet the request of a cursed spirit with a no followed by a prompt exorcism. However, in all the times that he’d come to visit, he hadn’t appeared to do so out of ill will or inclination to get some sort of revenge. He’d always sat on the outskirts of the campus or walked around the lush forest surrounding it with you, making as much or as little conversation as you’d liked. In spite of how powerful you knew he was and the nature of his being, you didn’t feel particularly put off by him. In fact, you often found yourself thinking about him and when he’d stop by next more than you probably should.

Slowly, you nod, passing him one of your mugs so the two of you can be on your way. “Thanks.”

The sky above is surprisingly clear, given the school’s location in Tokyo, aside from a few, lingering clouds that float past the moon on their way around the part of the world you call home. It’s oddly peaceful considering your company for the evening. But you’d never really felt uneasy in his presence to begin with. And you certainly don’t feel threatened now, with the way he only seems focused on trying not to spill any of the tea you’d so kindly prepared for him as the two of you traverse a dirt path near the school’s grounds.

It's also a bit ironic, you think, that the route you seem to have fallen into the habit of taking leads you near one of the many, small shrines—gems hidden amongst the forest’s depths—but he appears to have just as much of an affinity to the location since he never suggests going elsewhere.

Beneath the gentle, pale glow from above filtered through leafy branches extending over you, Chōsō’s features take on a soft, almost peaceful appearance. He seems to bask in the symphony of crickets singing as he takes a deep breath and sits down on the grassy hill directly beside you. His dark eyes dipping down to the lip of the mug in his hands before shifting over to meet yours catches you off-guard since you hadn’t realized you’d been watching him so attentively.

“Hmm?” he wonders and takes another sip of his tea. His voice and your own pounding heartbeat are the only things you can hear above the sea of noise.

Inquisitively, you ask him a question you’re sure he’s used to hearing: “Why do you keep coming here?”

He sighs and glances at the grass beneath the two of you before answering, “I get overwhelmed.”

“Overwhelmed?” you echo.

His head bobs in a slow nod as he tilts it up towards the sky once more, making his dark eyes twinkle in spite of the hint of sadness that seems to be lingering behind his gaze. “I’m always expected to do things. To pay the price of being granted my life here. And sometimes, all I wanna do is just sit and look at the sky.” There’s a small, but undeniable ache of empathy in your chest as you allow your eyes to flit over every feature of his face, searching for the words he’s not saying. But with his straightforward, unabashedly honest manner of speaking, it’s unlikely for him to leave you wondering.

After taking a drink to fight off the chilliness, another question leaves your lips. “You could go anywhere to cloud watch or stargaze, though. Why come all the way here?”

“I want to.”

Your fingers tap against the ceramic of your mug. “But being here puts you in a lot of danger. Why would you want to go somewhere like this to escape?”

Without a hint of hesitation, his dark eyes find your own once more as he states, “Because you’re here.” A moment of silence passes between the two of you filled with the ceaseless chirps of crickets during which you attempt to mask any effects of your racing heart and the heat crawling up your neck at his confession. However, the shock that strikes you like lightning must be written on your face, since his eyebrows furrow slightly with confusion at your reaction, and he adds, “I thought I made it clear I come here to spend time with you.”

For a few seconds, your lips make quivering, unsuccessful attempts at forming words your vocal cords won’t allow you to voice before you direct your attention to the mug in your hands filled with tea, instead, and try to regain your composure enough to speak. “W-Well, I knew that, but why?” is all you can inquire with a quiet murmur.

His chest rises and falls in a deep, shuddering breath as a cool gust of wind whistles through the trees. At first, you wonder, with the slight glossiness to his eyes and his sudden inability to meet your gaze, if his emotions are the source of the tremors you notice in his jaw. However, the realization that he’s cold soon reaches you at the sight of his arms folding across his chest. Wordlessly and without thinking, you close the little distance between your bodies and drape part of your blanket around his broad shoulders.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, uncrossing his arms so one of his hands can hold the side of the blanket you’ve given him while the other plants itself on the grass behind you. The unexpected warmth radiating from him that seems to engulf you in the tight space you’re now sharing makes it hard to resist the temptation of resting your head on his shoulder.

“I miss my brothers,” is the gently spoken truth that leaves his lips, “I wanted to give them a better life. My failure to fulfill my role as their older brother is something that weighs heavily on me, even though I know they’d tell me they forgave me if I had been there in their final moments.”

Following his moment of vulnerability, the two of you find enough courage to make eye contact, and you struggle not to lose yourself in the seemingly endless depths of his midnight-colored irises. With your faces mere inches away, you’re granted a closer look at him than you’ve ever had before, and it seems, from the way he’s watching you so intently, that you’re not the only one enjoying the unexpected intimacy of the moment.

The muscles in his neck tense with a thick swallow before he continues, “But when I’m here with you, I feel like it’s okay that I’m still alive even though they’ve passed. You don’t look at me with hatred in your eyes or expect anything from me in exchange for my existence. You accept me as I am.” Another gentle breeze dislodges a few strands of hair tucked behind his ear that you naturally move back into place for him before your hand warm from the drink you’d been holding comes to rest against his cheek. “Why?”

His fingertips ghosting along your own neck and cheek leave sparks of electricity on your skin in their wake. But you manage to organize the thoughts threatening to escape your mind at the tenderness of his touch enough to whisper, “When you fought with me instead of against me, I realized that maybe the way I’ve been taught to view the world we live in isn’t entirely accurate. You risked your life to save mine. You defied the rules about the world I once thought were true. And because you showed me that you cared about my life, I want to do the same for you.” A hint of a smile playing at his lips brings a warmth to you that you don’t think even the heaviest of blankets could provide. Taking a deep breath to slow your heart—which had been racing since he’d locked eyes with you—you ask, “Is that why you want to come here?”

“Hmm?”

“Because you care about me?”

He nods earnestly as his thumb skims over your cheekbones, and the adoration glimmering in his eyes like the stars in the night sky above brings your face closer to his. With a timidness you wouldn’t have expected from him, his lips meet with yours in a short, fleeting kiss, as if he’s testing the waters. The way you chase his after they separate, though, serves as a silent confirmation and has him deepening the kisses your lips return to his to share. Given his relatively blunt yet quiet personality, you’re pleasantly surprised by the slow, sensual manner with which his lips move against yours. You’re sure the two of you could remain in this secluded part of the woods forever, under the cover of the shadows masking you from the pale moonlight as you lose yourselves in the moment, but the reality of the situation marks its painful return when you pull away.

“I care about you a lot, and I want to see you more often,” he breathes, “But the last thing I want is to put you in danger. That’s why I’ve been visiting every once in a while and in the middle of the night.”

Moving your hand to his shoulder to rub it gently, you murmur, “I know; I want to see you too, Chōsō.” In an instant, his arms are around you, pulling your body flush against his, and the action fills you with a bittersweet feeling, since this is only the first time you’ve been so close to him, yet you’re unsure of when you’ll get to share more affectionate moments with him like this one. “We’ll find a way to make it work,” is the promise you whisper into his neck while he nestles his face in yours.

After a few, long moments of silence have passed during which your mind exhausts itself by tirelessly attempting to form solutions to an issue you never could’ve imagined you’d have in your lifetime, you start to relinquish your grip around Chōsō. He, however, isn’t ready to do the same, and refuses to budge.

Instead, he answers your curious hum with, “I’ll let you go back to bed soon, but is it okay if I hold you for a little longer?” Even though fatigue is starting to settle in, you consent and wrap your arms around him once more, resting your head against the side of his and nestling your face in his hair as you let your heavy eyelids close. “I’ve just never felt this way before.”

“Which is…?”

Your heart flutters against his chest in cadence with his own against yours at his answer.

“Safe.”

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk spoilers #choso x reader #chōsō x reader

[americxn]

Bathed in Moonlight

Rory Monahan x Reader smut

wordcount: 2.8k warnings: fingering, swearing, penetration, public sex kinda? 

You settled yourself further against the wooden frame of the hot tub you resided in, sipping at the glass of rose in your hand and laughing at a joke that Audrey had just made across from you. To your left, Rory laughed along too, his shoulder pressing into yours as he sidled slightly closer to you. His hand found yours beneath the dark water, turned inky by the reflection of the night sky. You were in the middle of filming the second season of My Roanoke Nightmare and you and the rest of the cast had decided to have a few drinks and catch up with each other from the comfortable warmth of the hot tub. Draining the final dregs from your wine glass, you reached over to place the empty glass on the rim of the large wooden tub. The cold night air was chill on the arm you lifted from the warmth of the water, causing you to quickly re-submerge it into the heat surrounding you with a sign of contentment before settling further into the water. “Well, I might go and get some sleep.” Matt yawned, Lee quick to agree with him. You wished them a goodnight as they hoisted themselves out of the tub, the water falling from their bodies as they rose and quickly walked to the warmth of the house. Now it was just you, Rory, Audrey and Monet left in the water, Shelby having gone to bed hours ago with the excuse of being too tired. You listened to the casual exchange beginning between the three, resting your head on the side of the tub and stifling a poorly concealed yawn.

Rory snapped his head to you. “You’re tired? You can’t be tired.”  You squealed as his hands found your waist beneath the dark surface of the water, shrieking as he pulled you onto his lap.  “C’mon, it’s so nice outside right now.” He growled playfully, his lips hovering near your ear as you struggled to get out of his grip, your thrashing movements causing the water to splash and sending small ripples travelling across the dark surface. “I know!” You said defensively, “I’m just getting a little sleepy.”  Audrey nodded across from you, sparing a brief glance of disappointment to her empty glass. “I’m rather tired too, actually.” “Guys, come on. Stay out for just a little while longer?” Rory pleaded, causing you to smile at his childlike persistence as you rested your head back against his warm shoulder. “I’ll go in when you go in.” You promised. The others decided to stay out a while longer too, a steady conversation beginning to flow once more.  At one point, you shifted on Rory’s lap slightly, trying to sink deeper into the water as the height you gained from being seated on him left your shoulders exposed to the cool night air. Rory let out a small exhale of air as you did so, causing you to turn and offer him a questionable glance. He met your gaze, not offering you an explanation and instead pressing a kiss to the tender spot where your neck met your shoulder; you turned back around, moving to the left just slightly in order to try and sink yourself down between his legs. This time, his hiss of discomfort was audible. You tensed, only just now realising what your small movements were doing to him. Indeed, beneath your ass, his cock rose ever so slightly, pressing into you firmly. “Stop moving.” He said lowly in your ear. You froze, clearing your throat slightly before leaning back into him once more. Rory relaxed under your weight, his arms coming to wrap securely around your waist. But the press of his dick against your ass persisted and you found yourself feeling slightly guilty. Your intentions had been completely innocent, you hadn’t meant to rub your ass on him, it had just kind of happened.  Rory’s voice was loud in your ear as he once again dove into the conversation being passed around. His hands shifted from their hold on your waist, Rory’s fingertips beginning to brush up and down your sides softly. The touch was comforting and soon you were tying to stifle another series of yawns. When your companions took control of the conversation, Rory’s input fading away, he leaned in close to your ear. “What do I have to do to keep you awake, huh?” You huffed a soft laugh at his words, reaching back a hand to cup the back of his neck as you twisted, your lips finding his own ear. “I dunno, why are you so desperate to keep me up?” You questioned back, your thumb making a soft swipe down the damp skin of his neck. His hips bucked up slightly, making you gasp as his hardness rubbed up into your ass. “What was that?” You questioned, a scolding tone entering your voice. Your friends were sat only a few feet away, now wasn’t the time.  “What?” He replied innocently. “I’m just showing you what you did to me.” You took a deep breath, trying to push aside the knot of arousal that slowly began to burn within you at his comment. “I didn’t mean to.” You whispered back, releasing your hold on his neck and turning back around, praying that the deep blush branding your cheeks wasn’t too noticeable in the surrounding dark. Rory’s rough chuckle in your ear was enough make you squirm, desperately fighting the urge to press your thighs together. “I know, that’s what makes it so hot.”  Your pussy flooded with wetness at this and you cursed the vast amounts of rose you had drank that evening for making you so fucking easy to turn on. Rory must’ve been silently celebrating this exact thought as, with a soft kiss to the shell of your ear, he trailed his fingertips down from your sides to the tops of your thighs.  You dug your elbow into his ribs in warning, but he paid you no heed, allowing his fingers to light continue their journey down, down, until they were hovering right at the apex of your thighs, teasing at the material of your bikini bottoms.  His hard-on grew ever harder at the heat beginning to radiate from your pussy beneath the thin fabric of your underwear, evident even through the warmth of the water.  You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to zone out of Rory’s exploring touches and into the conversation still taking place before you. But you just couldn’t focus enough to provide your own input, not as one of Rory’s fingertips slipped into the fabric of your underwear, swirling around the slick wetness that had gathered there. Taking a deep breath, one of your hands found his forearm beneath the inky water, squeezing and digging your nails in slightly. Rory smirked, his finger plunging into you up to his knuckle without warning. The gasp that you let out was mortifying and you immediately cleared your throat in an attempt to mask the noise that slipped out as your two companions snapped their heads to you, questionable looks creasing their brows. “Sorry,” you muttered. “Rory’s hand scared me. This water is too dark.” You joked lightly, swallowing tightly when Rory wiggled the finger he had seated in you. He was rock hard beneath you. His whisper was barely more than an exhaled breath in your ear as he leaned in, commenting: “So wet for me. I guess you’re not so tired after all.” Your toes curled at his teasing tone and it was all you could do but dip your chin in a subtle nod as Audrey and Monet turned back to each other, gossiping happily, their occasional loud laughs filling the air. Rory’s finger wiggled again, this time somehow spearing deeper and you gripped his arm harder, partly in silent warning and partly in mounting want. Your legs parted beneath the water of their own accord as Rory pulled his finger out to the first knuckle before pushing it back into you, repeating this motion several times before allowing a second finger to join. The tips of his fingers were crinkled from being submerged in the water for so long, creating a pleasant friction whenever he brushed the spot inside of you that made drawing in even breaths difficult.  His touch on your thighs, the warmth of the water surrounding your bodies and his slender fingers casually sliding in and out of you was both too much and not enough; your head fell back onto his shoulder, your eyes drifting closed. From across the tub, it just seemed as if the warmth of the water and the copious amount of wine you had drank were slowly lulling you to sleep, but in reality, your skin was crawling with feverish desire that grew with each slow, deep reaching stroke of your boyfriend’s fingers. “You wanna go inside to sleep now?” Rory teased, his teeth catching at your earlobe as you released a shuddering breath. “Arrogant prick.” You huffed quietly.  “Awe, what?” He cooed back, equally as hushed. His warm breath fanned the side of you face pleasantly, causing your body to melt into his. “You’d better fuck me after this, I swear to god.” He merely laughed, his fingers slowly their pace even further as he turned back to Audrey and Monet, laughing softly at the joke that Monet had just made. He dove back into the conversation, drawing out your patience and pleasure as his fingers retained their idle exploration of your cunt. You could do nothing but sit and endure his gentle torment, trying and pitifully failing in listening to the conversation the others were having.  Your skin heated to beyond the temperature of the water and, when Audrey finally announced that she was tired, Monet joining her as they vacated the water and quickly ran inside, your eyes were half-lidded, your mouth slightly parted.  As soon as the side door of the house closed, Rory’s fingers shoved into you, the groan that you emitted finally allowed to float into the chilly night air. “Fuck you.” You whimpered, a thin sheen of sweat coating your forehead as you were finally able to express to Rory the pleasure he was giving you. “Okay.” He replied, his fingers drawing out of you as he tucked his hands beneath your thighs and hoisted you forwards, the water making your weight light in his arm. He dropped off the small ledge the two of you had been sat on, stepping to the middle of the tub, where the water was deeper and spinning you around in his arms. You lurched for his mouth, catching his lips in yours as the water whispered around the movements of your bodies.  As Rory returned your roving, commanding kiss, one of his hands drifted back to your pussy, his fingertip tracing a single line up the centre of your clothed cunt before tugging your underwear down your legs.  You attacked his waist with you thighs, wrapping them tightly around his torso as he moved his own underwear aside, not noticing when they floated up to the surface of the water beside him. “Tell me how much you want me.” He said, breaking apart from your frenzied lips, your mind foggy with delirium from the taste of him. “Rory,” you croaked, your arms wrapping around his neck in an attempt to pull his head to your chest. “I need you. You felt how wet you got me - just, please.” His pupils expanded at your words and he lurched his lips to yours once more, his tongue making grand sweeps around your mouth, leaving you completely breathless, his cock the only coherent thought in your brain. “Please.” You said again as Rory’s head fell forwards, one of his hands leaving your waist to pull the padded cup of your bikini bra away from your tit. His lips closed around your nipple just as his solid cock plunged deep into you. Your deep groans mingled, twining together and floating up into the star flecked sky as he settled himself into you, his immediate thrusts causing the breath to catch in your throat. “Rory.” You moaned his name, your head tipping back to the moon shining high above you as Rory began to steadily work you on his cock, the prior arousal he had so skilfully built with his fingers mounting once more, the intensity of him filling you sending jolts of pleasure shooting all the way to the fingertips that you had gripped in the damp strands of his fiery hair plastered to the nape of his neck. “Rory, I -” your words trailed off into a deep humming moan “I need more. Please.” You squeaked, the loving thrusts he was providing you not even close to dousing the burning desire roaring throughout your entire being. “Always so needy.” He murmured, his smooth words punctuated by harsh thrusts that brushed against every pleasurable spot within you. “You’re always so needy, huh?” He repeated, his hands trailing up the length of your spine before grappling in the soaked strands of your hair that fanned out behind you on the surface of the water. “Yes.” You groaned out, your voice breaking with the brutal thrust his cock made into you. “What do you say, baby? If you want more, want to do you say?” He encouraged in a croon. “M-more please. Please.” He moved so fast that your pleasure fogged brain couldn’t comprehend what had happened when Rory unhooked your arms and legs from him, the water swirling and murmuring around your body as he spun you around. You reached forwards to clasp the edge of the tub to prevent your head from falling under the water as Rory reached for your legs once more, his cock slipping out of you as he re-hooked your thighs around his waist so that you were floating face down on the surface of the water, held upright by your legs wrapped around his torso and your tight hold on the rough rim of the tub.  The water surged into your gaping pussy, causing your mouth to fall open of its own accord with a trembling gasp. He didn’t hesitate before filling you once more, pushing the water out of your slick cunt so that it was only him that filled you, that pleased you.  Your toes curled, your wet fingers almost slipping from their grip on the side of the tub.  You couldn’t even muster the coherence to thank him as he fulfilled your wish, your new position allowing the swollen head of his cock to reach deeper into you, pressing against both of your pleasure spots. “Shake the fucking stars with your moans, baby. C’mon.” He encouraged, your vision blurring as your eyes rolled fully back. You did, unleashing your audible pleasure into the night sky and surrounding forests, not caring if those in the house heard you as you cried out hoarsely, Rory’s fast paced pounding coaxing unbelievable amounts of pleasure from you, your orgasm nearing. His own grunts and gasps filled the air with yours, all of his muscles tensing as your pussy clenched around him, encouraging his own orgasm to mount. With a shout, he released inside of you, his cum pouring deep inside you and catalysing your own orgasm, which ripped through you with a force that made your fingers fully slip from the rim of the tub, your grip lost to the pleasure that washed over you.  Rory caught you before your head fell into the water, his hands pulling your body back into his so that your back was pressed into his strong chest. The vulnerable position that this left you in, with your back arched, your tits pushed out and exposed to the surroundings before you only fuelled your orgasm. Wave after wave of ecstasy rammed into you, leaving you gasping for air between pitiful cries of gratification, your water-slick body trembling in Rory’s hold. When Rory stilled his messy rutting into you, you were able to gain full control of your body once more, your head falling forwards onto you chest as you worked to heave down greedy gulps of night air. Rory pressed a warm kiss to the side of your neck, carefully untangling your body from his and turning you around, the water brushing across your too hot skin with the movement. “You okay?” He breathed, holding you to him and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Yes.” You panted softly, meeting his dimly glowing gaze, the reflection of the crescent moon glinting in his dark eyes. “Yes, that was amazing.” You gushed, accepting the light kiss he placed on your lips. He gathered your body to his, the night once again falling into a still quiet as he sat on the ledge of the tub once more, your body strewn across his lap. The stars were bright and plentiful and you surveyed them together in the dark, remaining in the moonlight-bathed water until it turned cold.

taglist: @kitwalker02 @three-eyed-snail @forevercountess @kitwalkerangel @milly-louise @thecountessesglove @undeadcortez @kitwalker64 @samsassinparvismagna (if you wanna be added or removed, just send me a message <3)

#american horror story #ahs #ahs fandom #evan peters #evan peters ahs #evan peters fanfiction #ahs roanoke #ahs season 6 #roanoke #rory monahan #rory x reader #rory monahan smut #evan peters smut #ahs fanfiction #smut #evan peters x reader #american horror story roanoke #ahs rory monahan #ahs rory x reader #ahs rory smut

[perriewinklenerdie]

Married (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Claire Herondale

Word count: 2,4 k

Summary: Parts of Ines’s wedding told from Ethan’s perspective feat. E&C dancing, staring at each other during the wedding, basically being a married couple and everyone calling them out for it. OH3 Chapter 11 added content.

Warnings: None, it’s fluff town all the way

A/N: I feel scammed by PB. All the golden opportunities - wasted. So I fixed it.

His shoes sank a bit in the sand as he began walking towards the venue. More and more people were beginning to arrive, sounds of conversation and laughter increasing by the minute. He recognized his coworkers with ease and approached them. The first to notice him is Tobias, his eyebrow arching slightly at the sight of him.

“You came alone? Where’s Herondale?” he asked, looking over Ethan’s shoulder to search for the blonde resident.

“She helped me fix my tie, then kicked me out of our room. And refused to let me see the dress.” He explained, shrugging with a helpless laugh. Harper laughed along with him, clapping her hands gently.

“That’s wife behavior. Are you sure you two aren’t married?”

“Dude, if you two eloped, I’m not going to be working out with you anymore.” Bryce chimed in, acting as though he was offended, a serious look overtaking his face.

“Where would you- why would you- “ Ethan started stumbling over his words, realizing only after a moment that everyone was smirking at him teasingly. He huffed, fighting a blush that creeped onto his cheeks anyway. “I see. You all think you’re funny.”

“You make it too easy, Ethan.” Harper giggled, shaking her head.

“And we know we’re funny, Ethan.” His mentor put his hand on his shoulder sympathetically.

“Hilarious, even.” Baz added.

A small sound of an incoming message caused everyone to stop talking. Sienna unlocked her phone, her eyes scanning the screen.

“Claire just texted me a photo of her in a dress.”

Immediately, everyone jumped to her side, long before Ethan could even move his finger. Once he woke up from the daze, he took a step towards the young doctor that he considered his friend. Zaid stopped him in his tracks with a hand pressed to his shoulder.

“She said to not let you see the photo.”

“Why?”

Her voice rang from behind him. “I wanted to see your reaction myself.”

Ethan turned around and, at once, his breath caught in his throat. His gaze dropped to her shoes and dragged up her body slowly. The gentle flow of her skirt, pink silk that he knew for sure would almost spill through his fingers. The bodice, snug against her chest, accentuating her curves and making his male brain run wild. Careful to not linger on her chest too long – he would not get crap from their friends for this – he finally looked at her face. She was grinning smugly with a bit of a nervous spark.

He stepped up to her, resting his hand on the dip of her waist, tracing the floral patterns under his touch. With his other hand, he grasped hers in a gentle manner, raising it to press a warm kiss to her fingers.

“You’re taking my breath away.” he muttered, staring at her intensely.

“Hypoxia is dangerous, maybe I should go.” Claire teased, leaning away a fraction of an inch. He immediately pushed on her back to stop her, their personal spaces merging.

“Not having you by my side is fatal.” He dropped his voice to a low rumble, her grin melting into the soft smile. Their lips met in a slow kiss, no heat to it, just pure emotions.

They remained like that for a prolonged moment, his hands carefully pressing her to his chest. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, making their bodies move in a swaying motion.

Jackie burst their bubble. “You, lovebirds, the brides are about to arrive, cut it out.”

Ethan pressed his lips to Claire’s one last time, then leaned away. Their noses brushed against one another as their eyes met. He whispered gently. “I’ll come find you after the ceremony.”

She pecked his cheek sweetly. “Can’t wait.”

--

He wasn’t particularly a fan of weddings. He wasn’t invited to a lot of them, either. If combined with his dislike for big social gatherings, one would come to the conclusion that Ethan Ramsey was miserable right in that moment.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

As Ines and Angie exchange vows and talk about their love for each other, his eyes find Claire. Sitting in her chair across the aisle, she’s holding Sienna’s hand and passing her a tissue. She’s all anyone could ever ask for, and the mere sight of her makes him fall down into the void of memories.

How far he’s come as a person. A cynic that dreaded what a new year would bring along with a new batch of interns. A man that had only two people in his life that he could call friends. A man that went to the bar every night to forget the day behind him, only to go back to his empty apartment. All of that was so long ago that he barely recognized that version of himself anymore. He was so different now.

He smiled more. Laughed, even, and found that he didn’t find stupid jokes Lahela made all the time half as annoying as he once did. He didn’t spend every waking moment at work. Instead, he enjoyed his time off. Still at a bar, but not to drink away his worries. Not alone – not anymore.

Now, he had someone to come home to.

Claire shook her head as she laughed at what Zaid said and Ethan’s heartbeat quickened. They grew together as people too, and along with that, their relationship evolved.

From the night they spent together in the NICU, when her head slowly fell onto his shoulder and he couldn’t find a single cell in his body to tell him to lean away. Because he wanted her to be close. It was the first moment in which he thought that maybe this brilliant woman was meant to be more to him than just an intern – and right after that, he squashed the idea back down.

Every hold of her hand, every silent sign of support, he cherished it all. Unknowingly falling deeper for the woman that would become the center of his universe before he realized what was happening.

Their kiss in Miami would be at the forefront of his mind in his every living second until he kissed her again. Growing stronger with each time his resolve broke and their lips met, softly or with wild abandonment.

The first time he could call her his – the first time he had her to himself. He knew in that moment that he was ruined for everyone else. No one would ever make him feel that way, ever again. He knew it damn well – and yet, he still fought against it.

Absence makes heart grow fonder. He now knew it was true. Months he spent away from her, keeping her at arm’s length, taught him as much. How could he deny those words when the moment he pulled her closer to him outside his apartment and their lips touched, he felt his mind go blank and his heart stop. He vowed to never let her leave again. To never lose her.

And then he almost did.

The thought alone made his muscles spasm, and he was a millisecond away from running to her side, just to feel her warmth and hear her heartbeat. Leaving her side now, even if only for a moment, even to do their job, caused a silent voice to go off in his head. A wave of panic usually followed, staying with him until he saw her again.

Thankfully, nowadays, she was within his reach most of the time. She never asked why he sometimes needed to pull her close and just hold onto her – she knew.

He felt the corners of his lips rise on their own accord. She was radiant in every second of every day. In that moment, she was the most beautiful person there. The idea that it was him that she continuously chose to be with, day after day, only made him smile wider.

This was it for him. He found his one and only, as cliché as that sounded – he knew it for sure. Guess weddings really did make people reflect on love after all.

Ethan was very much aware of how lovestruck he must have been looking in that moment. With his eyes on Claire, he was a picture of a man in love – and he was finally ready to admit that he was. He loved her.

Almost as though she could hear his thoughts, she turned around to look at him. Their eyes met and a brilliant smile bloomed on her face. His lips moved as he mouthed the words, her smile becoming gentler.

“I’m yours.”

She mouthed it right back to him.

--

Music wasn’t as obnoxious as he anticipated it to be. That didn’t, of course, mean that he condoned every dance move he saw the guests do. He decided to not complain, though – it was a day to be happy, he wouldn’t bring anyone down with his opinion on their questionable choices of moves.

Currently, he was seated by the table, nursing his whiskey. Mirani twins, Tobias and Naveen sat beside him, all five men watching their colleagues party with wine glasses in their hands.

“How long, do you think, will it take for one of them to break a glass?” Baz asked, leaning out of his seat to see his friends better. Zaid grinned, taking a sip of his drink.

“Any second now. And my bet is on Varma.”

“Why?” Tobias’s face twisted in confusion as he turned towards him, intrigued. Zaid shrugged.

“Because she can.”

Ethan tuned their conversation out, choosing instead to look at his girlfriend. She danced with Sienna, laughing as they sang along to the song. Her dress moved with her, flowing through the air elegantly. He felt the urge to stand up and walk up to her.

“Ramsey, you do know you can just walk up to her instead of sitting here and pining for her, right?” Tobias snickered, punching Ethan’s shoulder playfully. He scoffed, leaning away with a hint of a burn in his cheeks.

“I’m not pining for her.”

“You are.” All four of his companions replied.

He was so distracted by their words that he failed to notice an approaching form. Her hand landed on his shoulder softly, the tips of her nails scratching the back of his neck. Knowing who it was, he leaned into her touch, breathing out deeply.

“Sorry, gentlemen, but I’m stealing him.” she mused happily, dragging her hand down his arm until her fingers tangled with his. Ethan let her pull her up, looping his arm around her waist.

“Stealing is bad, Herondale.” Tobias shot back, moving his eyebrows suggestively at the couple. Claire opened her mouth to speak, but Ethan beat her to the punch.

“She can’t steal something that’s already hers.” He grinned at them, then turned towards her. Claire’s jaw dropped in surprise at his boldness, her posture softening enough for him to pull her away from the table, smirking. Faintly, he heard Tobias’s words.

“Married. For sure.”

Ethan’s arms wrapped around her, fingers hooked onto her hipbones. She threw her arms around his neck, staring up at him with a soft smile. A slow song began playing and one look at where the DJ was situated told them who was behind this change. Ines grinned at them, giving them thumbs up and a cheeky wink.

“Is it just me, or is everyone trying to tell us something?” Claire giggled, nuzzling her nose against his jaw. He kissed her nose gently.

“So, you noticed it too?”

“Kinda hard not to. Girls said we’re acting like a married couple at least twice today.” she traced the lapel of his jacket, laughing quietly at the recognition in his eyes.

“Guys did it too.” Ethan muttered, tightening his hold on her. She laid her head on his shoulder.

“And how does that make you feel?”

He was silent for a long while. They swayed to the song, tuning out everything else. To her surprise, he didn’t tense up – nothing about his posture spelled out the doubts he once told her he had.

“Not as terrified as it did before.”

Claire leaned back to look at him. Their eyes met, tender understanding in them. Ethan leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss, perfectly soft and not nearly deep enough. She clutched his lapel in her fist, creasing the fabric with how strong her pull was. His fingers dug into her back, skipping past the coarser material of her bodice and gripping the soft silk of her skirt. A voice in the back of his head told him to loosen up the hold or he’ll mark the fabric, but the overwhelming need he felt for her overshadowed everything else and he couldn’t bring himself to let her go.

The song ended and with it, their kiss. Foreheads pressed together, they caught their breath, standing in the middle of the dancefloor. Blissfully unaware of how much attention they gathered with their tender moment.

Ethan opened his eyes and finally allowed his mind to register the music again. Some sort of a fast tune that made people around them go mad. His girlfriend stared at him with an unspoken question, and he got the meaning perfectly well.

With a definite move, he dipped her onto the floor. She giggled, the sound breaking through the loud music to reach his ears. Ethan smirked, throwing her back into his arms. With his lips against her ear, he mused hotly.

“I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

Her leg wrapped around his thigh, pushing their bodies closer. His voice broke off and his breath shuddered at the way their bodies clashed and the suggestive smirk she sent his way. His hand fell to her ass, all inhibitions gone.

“Ethan!” she exclaimed, laughing at the carefree smile he gave her. He moved his hand a bit, albeit begrudgingly.

“Can you blame me? You’re irresistible.” He muttered, kissing the shell of her ear. Claire hummed, then twirled out of his hold and back into it, jumping into his arms with her legs wrapped around his hips. Ethan groaned deeply in his throat, making her smirk.

“I have a few tricks up my sleeve too.”

Notes

This is a part 2 to the Mile High Club fic. As I said, PB could have made the chapter so good with all the wedding themes that I’d lose my wig. Writers apparently don’t know how to do basic research into fiction themes, but that’s okay (kinda). It just means I have more material to work with.

Round two smut is coming soon. 

Thank you for reading! <3

Tagging separately

#ethan ramsey #open heart #playchoices

[celestialmark]

Ethereal - Jeong Jaehyun

Jaehyun was indeed way more than his good looks. Jaehyun was gentle, honest and sincere, you felt it all in the way he smiled, the way he talked and in the way he kissed you. He was the living definition of ethereal, and his beauty shone the most on the inside.

Characters: Jeong Jaehyun x reader

Category: fluff, au, life lessons

Word count: 16.7k

Warnings: drinking (but nothing too major), emotions, a lot of it.

Writer’s notes: it’s been a hooooooot minute and this is a lot of words. how have you all been? ;; skdjsjskd this was written in 2 weeks that consisted of a lot of urges to pull my hair out and constantly squeezing my brains for words and words and words. but nonetheless, I had so so much fun writing this, I enjoyed it thoroughly and I wish I had a Jaehyun in my life skdjlksjd hope you enjoy this you guys! <3 stay safe, keep healthy! lots and lots and lots of love to all of you as always x

Winter one.

There’s an indescribable feeling settling on Jaehyun’s chest when he leisurely looks down at the view below him from where he stands by the ledge of the Fisherman’s Bastion. He’s smiling contently to himself, dimples appearing but remaining hidden by the stretch of his turtleneck that shields him from the cold winter air. The sight before him, he thinks, was definitely one to die for, the Danube river stretching from one side to another, the mighty bridge allowing vehicles to pass in and out, the Parliament building sitting tall and proud on the other side of the river, all with a touch of snow from last night’s downpour which makes the scenery all the more breathtaking. Though the tips of his fingers are freezing, the negative temperatures making them stiff and red, Jaehyun feels warm on the inside, a familiar feeling that courses through his body whenever he got to see places like this.

Jaehyun tightens his grip around the camera he’s holding, with the straps hung loosely around his neck and raises it to capture the view. He trains his eyes on the LED screen, half clicking the button until the viewer appears, automatically adjusting the lens so that it focuses on the right places and presses down on the button completely, the screen turning pitch black momentarily until his photo reappears on the screen. When he’s satisfied after studying it for a few seconds, he repeats the process, changing angles every single time to make sure he remembers all he’s seen, forever.

He turns slightly to his right, curious to see how far the river stretches and how much his camera could capture when he spots a person who appears to be struggling to take a photo of herself from the way she’s awkwardly holding her camera up in the air, lowering it one second and then raising it again, obviously unsure if she’s captured in the frame or not. Jaehyun unknowingly smiles behind his camera, silently watching the girl continue her attempts, feeling apologetic for finding amusement in her struggles. He snaps a quick photo of her before finally letting go of his camera and letting it rest above his abdomen.

“Would you like me to take a picture of you?” He asks as he walks closer to the stranger.

You snap your head to your right and you see a guy, a fellow tourist you assume, approaching you with a smile grazing his lips, gesturing to your camera that’s been making your arm ache for the past few minutes. You mentally deadpan at yourself because this person has definitely seen you sturggle for who knows how long and maybe even seen you smile uncomfortably at the camera. And though he’s smiling at you, the upward twitch of his lips never dissipating even when he’s right in front of you, you subtly narrow your eyes at him, skeptical. Traveling alone meant that you had to look out for yourself and though this guy might not look like a snatcher that’s out for your camera, you just couldn’t be too sure, after all, this was usually how people get robbed right before their own eyes from being too careless and trusting.

He breaks the train of your inner debate when he chuckles, retracting his outstretched hand to his side when he sees you eye him from head to toe. “I promise I'm not going to steal your camera.” He lifts his own camera, strapped around his neck, “I’ve got my own.”

You tear your eyes off of him immediately and slap yourself mentally. How many times could you possibly embarrass yourself in front of this stranger in a span of three minutes? Your mind goes into haywire then, feeling the need to explain yourself, “No– that’s not what I meant,” you blubber, the desire to change his first impression of you burning within you, not really knowing why considering you might never even see him again. “I was just, actually–”

“My offer still stands,” he interrupts, smile returning, eyes doing the same and dimples you hadn’t noticed from earlier, appearing.

You hang your head low, hoping the cold weather is enough to mask the tint of red that’s spreading across your cheeks as you take a step forward to finally hand him your camera. “Sorry,” you mumble more to yourself.

He’s studying the features of your camera as soon as he receives it, “Don’t mention it,” he reassures. It takes him no less than ten seconds to finally get grips with your camera settings and as he does so, you’re shifting in your spot, trying to think of poses for the picture. You start to feel conscious about yourself then, the stranger’s eyes fixated on the screen and inevitably on you. The thought makes you move too much in one place in futile attempts of giving him a good photo to take.

He cocks his head to the side, looking directly at you now, “Comfortably. Pose comfortably, whatever you want. It’s your photo.”

His velvety voice takes you off edge and sure enough, you relax after his instructions. You don’t do anything extraordinary as you manage to stay still in one spot lifting your lips upwards into a small smile, your eyes directing themselves to the lens. You hear the click of the shutter then and just when you think it’s finally over, it’s the stranger’s turn to shift in his spot slightly, the camera still lined within his vision.

“Another one,” he insists, adjusting the camera so that you’re in the centre of the viewer. “The view is really nice. Might as well take a few more.”

You don’t protest because it seems like this man knows what he’s doing and he’s already snapping away even when you’re not ready and you try not to get flustered in the process of finding the right poses. But it didn’t even matter anymore because he’s clicking away photo after photo without even so much of an instruction from him nor waiting for you to move in your spot. You watch him blankly as he continues to shuffle in his place, changing all the angles in all ways he feels needs be. When he’s done, you’re still dazed and it’s only when he hands your camera back to you that you finally blink.

“The photos came out great,” he smiles warmly.

They did? You’re not too convinced seeing you didn’t even move a muscle.

“Thanks.” You glance to your left and your right and just as suspected, he was by himself too. “Do you want a picture here too?”

He contemplates for a second, already knowing he doesn’t need anymore pictures here, convinced he has enough saved from earlier. But you’re smiling at him gently and a couple pictures more won’t hurt. “Sure.”

So you switch places, the stranger now standing by the ledge, you taking his previous spot a mere metre away from him. You don’t need to give him any cues because looking at him through the screen of his camera, he didn’t need to pose, him just standing there was already a photo worthy moment. You snap multiple pictures of him, each one seeming to come out better than the last and you wonder how that was even possible because this man really wasn’t doing much. You reason maybe he just really knows his angles well. Nonetheless, this man was for sure captivating, with his tall stature clad in a light brown trench coat with a fluffy turtleneck in darker shade of brown laid underneath, black slacks and a pair of impossibly white converse. Maybe he’s a model? Well, he could definitely pass as one, his big eyes that radiate warmth, smooth features in every aspect of his face topped with his dimples.

He looked breathtaking.

And you have to force yourself to take your eyes off of him when you return his camera, forgetting completely about the fact that you hadn’t just snapped what seemed like a million photos of him.

“Thanks,” he breathes, turning the camera off without inspecting your photos.

You nod, “you’re not gonna check them? I’m not sure I did a good job– I can take more if you want.”

He smiles with a shake of his head, “No, that’s okay. You didn’t check yours either. I’m sure the photos came out great.”

You chuckle, “You shouldn’t be, not with my photography skills anyway.”

He chuckles this time and your eyes land back on his dimples, “All that matters is that I have a souvenir of this place.”

“Me too.”

“You’re here by yourself?”

“Mhm. You?”

“Yeah,” he exhales a breath, the winter temperatures making it possible for his breath to become visible, the smoke-like condensation seeping through his lips. He lets his eyes wander to the view before him once again, “It’s the exact same as I last saw it. Nothing’s changed.”

Intrigued, you carry on with the conversation, “You’ve been here before?”

You see him nod from the corner of your eyes, following where his eyes are focused. “Yeah, I was here last year. And the year before that. And the year before.”

You nod slowly, unknowingly becoming more and more invested in the subject with the stranger. “Are your family here?”

He shakes his head, “No,” he then turns to you with a small, but breathtaking smile. “Just, I just really like it here. I find myself coming back every time.”

You blink just as you clear your throat, your pulse unconsciously speeding up with the eye contact that had just occurred.  Silence fills the air and you’re almost sure the mood had just transcended into an awkward one after being flustered, so,  in attempts of lifting the mood, you suggest something you don’t give much thought to.

“Well then maybe you could tour me around.”

And you deadpan at yourself as soon as the last word is uttered, your eyes widening at how bold you’ve gotten, not to mention, in front of someone you had just met for the first time out of nowhere.

You hear him chuckle beside you and that’s when you feel his whole body turn towards you. You wearily follow suit, greeted by one of his hand extended to you, “Gladly.” His smile broadens, something to let you know he isn’t kidding.

“I’m Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun. A nice name for a man with impeccable visuals.

His hand is warm in contrast to your cold one when you accept his handshake.

“Y/n. I’m y/n.”

Winter two.

When you look over the same view you saw for the first time the past year, you realise that nothing much has changed. The river still stretches on, the bridge still standing tall and buildings on the other end of the river rising upwards in same way you remember them to. It was still as beautiful as ever despite the winter weather nipping at your skin. Jaehyun’s words ring in your head then, that not matter how many times he’s visited this exact same place, everything is still as he recalls. You smile to yourself at the memory of him, recalling the wasted opportunity of him touring you around (despite it being a casual joke on your end but one he’d taken seriously) due to conflicting schedules and flights. It’s a pity you think, because he looked genuinely keen on showing you to some of his favourite places. Though he did leave you a list of places to see, you never got to see any of them with him, the terrible reminder of your impending flight the next day disrupting the chances of what could have been.

You inhale the winter air, the coolness transcending through your insides, closing your eyes in the process to relish in the beauty and tranquility of it all despite the many other tourists roaming the area, mentally thanking yourself for having come here again. Budapest was and is still beautiful, a certain beauty to it you were quite unable to pinpoint as of now.

“Beautiful, huh?”

You swear you remember that voice anywhere, even when you’ve only heard it once. Your eyes snap open and true enough, you find the same companion you shared this view with a year ago, smiling at the view before him, his dimple peeking through his cheek. Your head almost spins from having craned it too fast to see who the owner of the voice was and you notice the subtle drop of your heart when your assumptions prove to be right. He finally turns to you, that same blinding smile you remember adorning his gentle features, his brown soft locks falling just above his eyes.

“Y/n,” he breathes, the name rolling off his tongue in a pleasant way, as if he’d been dying to say it for far too long.

Your throat runs dry and you’re trying to convince it’s because of how taken aback you are. “J-Jaehyun.”

You see his shoulders slump, the smile briefly leaving his lips before emerging again, this time a tad bigger, exhaling a rather big breath. “You remember.”

You nod, trying to stop the rapid blinking of your eyes, “And, so, so do you.”

He nods too, tugging his winter coat closer to his body. “What a coincidence,” he says, tearing his eyes off you to marvel at the river again. “A very pleasant coincidence.”

You fall silent, not really knowing what to say, your mind struggling to come up with a decent response to hopefully mask your flustered nature. But when nothing comes to mind, you follow his gaze forward, thinking that maybe if you looked somewhere else other than his face, your sanity will come back.

“I still haven’t forgotten about that tour,” Jaehyun pipes up, voice clear yet soft. “The offer still stands,” he adds and then turns to you again, making you look at him. “That’s if, you’re not going to bail on me tomorrow.”

His words make you chuckle, his down to earth nature naturally easing you. “For the record, I wasn’t purposely bailing on you.”

“Oh yeah?” He challenges. You nod. “Coincidentally then?”

You smile a teasing one with a shrug of your shoulders. “Maybe.”

Your answer makes Jaehyun laugh and it gets caught in the wind that blows past, but not before it reaches your ears, pride settling in your chest for having made him do so. “Well then can I try again tomorrow? The pictures you took the last time came out really great, I want to make it up to you.”

“Jaehyun there were mere pictures. It’s okay, you don’t have to,” you defend, even though your mind says the exact opposite, because in fact, you did want to see those places he had mentioned, and you most definitely wanted to visit them with him.

It’s Jaehyun’s turn to shrug his shoulders, a small smile grazing his lips as his eyes grow a little smaller with the gesture. “I want to. And besides, most people would just accept an offer for a free tour, you know?”

You narrow your eyes playfully at him, “Not from a stranger, no.”

You catch him bite his lower lip when you don’t make things easier for him, finding too much fun in your little exchange even though you’re unsure where this side of you is coming from.

“But I’m not a stranger though,” Jaehyun points out. “You know me.”

You wag your index finger at him, “Correction. I know your name.”

“And that’s not enough?”

“You could be a a dodgy guy for all I know.”

“You think I’m out to harm you.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you’re thinking it.”

You fall dead silent because Jaehyun’s unknowingly become too close to you, your ability to pick up on his advances clouded by the determination of brewing a witty comeback just to win a game you weren’t aware you were playing. And it doesn’t help that Jaehyun is suddenly wrapping an arm around your shoulder, his grip firm and strong, pulling you away from where you're standing and landing so close to his chest. From his shoulder, you see a big crowd of people walk past, all too focused and lost in the earpieces stuck in their ears and wandering eyes, making it almost impossible for them to spot you in their tracks, too engrossed in the building that stood before them.

“Still think I’m dodgy?” Jaehyun asks amusingly, a crooked smile hanging on the corner of his lips, looking down at you but never letting go of you.

You blink, avoiding his eyes, training them to the lints that had formed on his coat.

“S-so about that tour? Is it still up for grabs?”

------

“I didn’t know what you liked so I got you a latte. Hope that’s okay?” is the first thing Jaehyun says to you when you meet him at exactly ten in the morning at your agreed meeting place. He sounds unsure and he’s watching you with expectant eyes.

You nod, smiling. “This is perfect, thank you.” After taking a careful first sip, so as to not burn your tongue so early in the day, you look around you, the high end shops surrounding the street on either side. “So Mr tour guide, what do you have planned for today?”

“Well, I’m glad you asked,” he plays along with a goofy smile, pretending to scroll through his phone as if the agenda had been written on it. “And to answer your question, you’re going to have to wait and see, it’s a surprise.”

Your mouth forms an “o”, your expectations rising. “Exciting!” And you really mean it. Because feeling nervous earlier was one thing, looking forward to the day ahead was another thing, and if you were being honest, you don’t remember how you felt earlier in the morning at all, now that you were casually strolling the streets of Budapest with Jaehyun.

As you manoeuvre through the Parliament Building and as you climb the dome of St. Stephen’s Basilica, you learn a few things about Jaehyun that rise during your conversations on the trek to your destinations. You learn that Jaehyun is the head of the marketing team in a company he refuses to name (which you presume must be a renowned one and that he was just being humble), that he lives alone in an apartment in the suburbs to escape the busy city life that he has to see every single morning for work, that he’s an only child hence, has a very close relationship with his parents who still worry about him venturing onto these solo trips every year despite being a working adult.

You huff, placing both your hands on your hips when you arrive at a landing after climbing so many steps you had lost count of. “Oh, I had completely different assumptions about you,” you say in between trying to catch your breath, allowing people to walk past you as they continue their climb.

Jaehyun turns to you, a brow slightly raised, the teasing smile threatening to form on his lips poking on something you had just said. Your eyes widen, mortified at the fact that you had just exposed yourself thinking about him in your spare time. “Wait, that’s not what I meant– wait.”

Jaehyun dismisses it, shaking his head lightly. “Well what did you assume in the first place?”

That was one more thing you had learned about Jaehyun in the midst of talking to him passively, was that he had a tremendous talent for making you eat your own words. Either that or you just really didn’t think your words through before speaking them out loud. At this point, you really didn’t care anymore, besides after today, Jaehyun would just be another memory, another stranger you’ve met in the passing.

“Definitely not the head of the marketing department.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm.”

“Then what?”

“A model, maybe.”

Jaehyun chuckles as you both halt at the bottom of another set of winding stairs above. You nod truthfully, remembering your first impression of him all too well from last year; tall and undeniably blessed with outstanding features. “Yeah. A model for a clothing brand, maybe.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Jaehyun says lowly, turning away from you to hide the growing smile on his face and the reddening of the tip of his ears (which by the way was definitely not caused by the cold).

Jaehyun was good looking and he deserved to know that even if it was through an indirect statement. “It is,” you nod as you continue your ascent after sucking in a huge breath. Jaehyun follows closely behind, cheeks hurting from smiling too much. “So, only child, huh?” you call out behind you, raising your voice slightly to ensure he hears you. You hear him hum, “Does it not get lonely sometimes, no?”

Jaehyun ponders for a second, his childhood flashing before his eyes. “Sometimes, yeah. But not too much, I have a bunch of crazy friends. They’re almost like brothers to me.”

You nod absentmindedly, an imaginary picture of what Jaehyun’s friends could possibly be like popping up in your head. You think they must be a nice bunch too, considering how pleasant your company has been. You draw yet another huge breath in, your hand gripping onto the cold metal handrail, the many stairs leading up to your destination that wasn’t even in sight yet, making your lungs yell for air. “The view better be worth it,” you grumble to yourself but Jaehyun hears.

“Trust me, it is,” Jaehyun pipes up from behind you, surprising you a little but you take his word for it anyway.

And sure enough, Jaehyun was right. The view from the top of the dome sure was breathtaking, the roofs of the buildings below coated with snow that had fallen earlier in the morning and the vague outline of the mountain in the distance, and although it was all you could see, besides the minuscule people and the various roads and alleys, somehow, it felt so ataractic to be here with the sun peeking through the clouds, even when the cold wind makes you shiver under the many layers of clothing you had. The view was surreal in your eyes, but how it made you feel was definitely something else indescribable.

“Well?” Jaehyun asks, stepping beside you by the ledge.

“You were right,” you admit. “It’s absolutely gorgeous.”

Jaehyun has been here before, but right now, sharing the exact same view he’s seen countless of times, he thinks the view had just become even more magnificent than all the times he’s stood here the previous years.

------

When the sun sets, you learn that the capital city of Hungary, is divided into two, that the Chain Bridge connects the hilly areas of Buda to the flatter areas of Pest. You learn this as Jaehyun navigates you through Christmas markets where you find hand-made products that range from ornaments to clothes, to warm and fresh local food that you indulge in with Jaehyun. Other people weave in and out these booths just like you and the fairy lights tangled amongst the bare branches of a huge tree that’s firmly rooted in the middle of the square, gives the place a homey and cozy feeling. When the evening snow begins to fall, the two of you are taking a sip of your hot mulled wine in a cup.

“Are you tired or do you still have some energy left?” Jaehyun asks lowly.

“Both?” You reply honestly.

Jaehyun chuckles and discards his cup in a nearby bin when he finishes his wine. “We have one last place to see,” he announces. “But don’t worry, it’s a pretty cool and chill place.”

You nod, liking the idea of ending the day somewhere you could relax. “I’m down.”

You find yourselves in front of a place called “Szimpla Kert” and when you take a peek inside, it’s dark, neon and fairy lights scattered everywhere. When Jaehyun leads you inside, you realise it’s almost like a bunch of outdoor bars grouped together in one place, with random tables and seats decorating the place, along with music playing throughout the entire place. Jaehyun finds a seat for you both, right beside a heater to keep yourselves warm, the place still cold despite the roof that covers it.

“First round is on me,” Jaehyun winks before he’s dashing off to the nearest bar he comes across.

You look around the place, taking in its smallest details; broken and abandoned TV’s adding touch to the unconventionality of the interior, with random pictures and paint splayed on the walls. You spot an old (and possibly broken) arcade machine on the other corner and when your eyes fall onto your own table, you realise it’s not the same as the others either. You think it’s unique; how nothing in this place doesn’t make any sense, but you like it anyway, almost seeming like a breath of fresh air in the middle of all the chaos that is your life, despite it not being the image of tranquility in your head.

You watch as Jaehyun re-emerges from somewhere, with what looks like two cocktails in his hands. He sets them down on the wooden table before taking a seat next to you on the wooden log. “I honestly can’t remember the names of these two but I asked the bartender to give me their best ones.”

You reach for the yellow one, leaving Jaehyun with a clear looking one and take a sip. The bartender wasn't wrong, the cocktail tasted divine, picking up on the fruity taste of the mango added with alcohol to which you assume is vodka and a bunch of other ingredients you couldn’t quite make out. Nonetheless, it was good and so you take another sip from the straw. When Jaehyun sees you satisfied, he begins to drink his own, the cool of the cocktail sending shivers down his spine.

“So what made you come back here?” Jaehyun asks, starting the conversation in hopes of getting to know you a little better.

You shrug your shoulders, recalling the time the opportunity of being able to travel presenting itself amidst your busy schedule back home. “Not sure,” you confess, glancing at him. “It just felt like the right place to be.”

Content with your answer, with it having spoken so much more than the actual length of the words themselves, Jaehyun smiles, somehow knowing how it feels to be in the same position, though never really knowing your whole story. “I get that.”

“Yeah?” you re-confirm, leaning over the table to look at him a little longer, resting the side of your head against the palm of your hand, your cocktail now half empty, the alcohol beginning to sink in your system. “Is that why you come back every year?”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun nods, staring straight ahead before directing his gaze at you. “Up until this year.”

You almost miss the last part but you don’t and even when you do hear it, it doesn't make sense to you. Before you could ask him to elaborate, he’s sipping away at his cocktail, prompting you to do the same and no one speaks after that. When your glasses are completely empty, you rise from your seat and Jaehyun follows your every move.

“Second round is on me,” you wink at your company, in the same manner he did earlier. Unknown to you, the playful gesture bothers him way more than it had its effects on you from when he did it.

It isn't long before you return, with four shot glasses gathered up in your palms, careful enough not to trip on anything to save the drinks. Jaehyun raises a brow when you set them down in front of him, silently examining what appears to be clear fluid in the glasses; Palinka shots.

“Are we drinking to die tonight?” Jaehyun asks unsurely, eyeing the drinks.

You roll your eyes as you reclaim your seat beside him, “I’m pretty sure you know what these are given you’re like an unofficial local here.”

Jaehyun’s laugh resonates from his chest and vibrates through his whole body. “Of course I know what they are. I had too much of those one time and I almost passed out in public.”

You grin, picking up a glass and handing it to him before taking one for yourself. “Well then, cheers?” you raise yours to his which he meets with his own, eliciting a small “clink” in the process. You down the drink it one go, taking a big gulp. You blink hard for three seconds, the strength of the alcohol coming at you full force, making your throat burn and your face grimace.

“Wow,” you manage to croak when you recover shortly. “That’s something else.”

“Right?”

“I love it.”

You ignore the feeling of your head beginning to spin when you down your second shot with Jaehyun, your cheeks now rosy while the tips of Jaehyun’s ears now coloured a shade of pink. He’s grinning incredulously at you, “I’ve never drank this with anyone before.”

You turn to him, lazily blinking in the process. “Really?”

Jaehyun nods, “Yeah. I always came here alone.”

You raise a brow playfully, bringing your face closer to his. “What an insult to all the girls you’ve brought here before.”

Jaehyun laughs lowly, eyes trained on you (your lips). “What makes you think I’m lying?”

You bring your elbow to rest on the wooden table, resting your jaw against your hand which you have balled into a fist. “With that face of yours, it’s impossible you haven’t brought anyone here.”

Jaehyun feels the need to get closer to you, so he does, scooting in his seat until his shoulder almost touches yours. “And what’s with this face of mine?”

You blink long and hard, your face feeling all too warm, but your eyes don’t miss the way Jaehyun’s brows knot together. The sound you emit next comes out more like a giggle and you reckon it’s the alcohol working in you but the answer you say next isn’t exactly induced by the intoxication either.

“Handsome.”

Jaehyun gapes at you for a moment, blinking, dumbfounded. He’s been complimented many times before, but they all didn’t matter to him.

Until tonight.

Winter three.

The Danube river is the second largest river in Europe, after the river Volga. It flows through ten countries, Hungary, being one of them and has a whopping length of nearly three thousand kilometres. This fact amazes you as you lean back and sit on a bench situated not too far from the glorious Parliament Building, a warm cup of coffee in your hand that heats the tips of your fingers. You wonder what it might look like in other cities it flows through, what the views might be like over there, and if there are people who ponder on the same questions as you.

As you exhale another breath of cold, crushing December evening air, your mind drifts to Jaehyun, tilting your head to let your eyes fall on the other side of the river, vaguely making out the outline of the Fisherman’s Bastion through the light fog, where Jaehyun had magically appeared out of nowhere the previous year and where he kindly took photos of you the year before that. Maybe that’s why the Danube river reminds you so much of Jaehyun, because on two occasions, it had been the same view you both shared, a little something you like to consider a common thing between you both. The river looks incredible and the mere thought of its properties is enough to fascinate you in more ways than one, much like Jaehyun. His appearance has always been so.. alluring. But underneath all that, he was just as captivating, the many layers to his personality in the brief moments you get to witness them, a testament to that.

“I’m beginning to think you're following me.”

All the hairs on your skin stand, fate seeming to work for the third time in three consecutive years because when you look to your left, there stands Jaehyun with that same smile he always greets you with, the very man on your thoughts just half second ago.

“Excuse me? I was here first.”

You’re grinning when he takes a seat beside you, happy to see him. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” he jokes, his smile getting wider, his dimples catching your attention.

You roll your eyes playfully, “I know. I’m kind of tired seeing you here.”

Jaehyun shrugs with a chuckle escaping his lips, “I feel the same way. So who is it gonna be? Do you leave or do I?” You laugh then, making him laugh with you. When the silence falls, Jaehyun’s gaze on you doesn’t, in awe of how the world works. “How have you been, y/n?”

“Good,” you nod, pressing your lips into a thin line. “I’ve been good. Still the same. How about you?”

“I’ve been well, thank you.” So you spend the next half an hour filling each other on what’s happened in the past year. Jaehyun talks about his job and how it’s allowed him to meet new people from different places, his friends who are still as loud and as boisterous as ever and his plans of maybe adopting a pet to keep him company at home. You let him ramble on and on, spurring him to talk even more when you ask him questions here and there because if you were being honest, there wasn’t much to fill him in in relation to your life. Now that you think about it, you don’t recall ever talking about yourselves during your encounters with Jaehyun. Maybe a small thing or two, but nothing major, nothing in depth like his stories.

You wonder if he’s noticed.

Jaehyun’s in the middle of a sentence when your eyes become empty, his words drowned out by your thoughts and even though you’re looking at him, you speculate he's noticed because he stops talking abruptly. You see him smile lightly, tracing his eyes at the ground before looking at you, the silence allowing him to gather his words.

He’s definitely noticed.

“I want to know more about you y/n.”

So that’s how you end up leading the way the very next day, Jaehyun letting you tour him this time, as if he hadn’t already been to this place you’re planning on taking him. All he was instructed was to bring something to wear for swimming to which he immediately countered with an “swimming?! In this freezing weather?!” But he does as he’s told anyway, at least with what he’s told you this morning that he might have struggled to find something to wear at such short notice.

When you arrive at the Szechenyi Thermal baths, Jaehyun’s mouth forms an “o” and you unknowingly grab him by the wrist to pull him inside with you. It takes about five minutes to validate the tickets you’ve bought online the night prior and ten minutes for the two of you to get changed and lock your belongings away safely. Jaehyun appears by the corridor in shorts that fall below his knees while you come out in a bikini bra with shorts to pair it. When you see each other, you both burst out laughing, the exact same thought crossing in your minds: who’s crazy enough to be swimming outdoors during such a harsh Winter? But the steam outside, floating from the hot surface of the water serves as some sort of reassurance that maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as you both initially thought it would be.

“This is crazy,” Jaehyun mumbles but he’s grinning anyway, stopping just right by the door that leads to the outdoor baths. “I’ve heard of this place before but I've never actually been here.”

You nudge his arm with your elbow, a teasing smile on your face. “I’m a great tour guide, amen’t I? To have found such a place you actually haven’t been to.” You walk past Jaehyun and reach for the door, an icy gust of wind immediately greeting you making you shiver to the core. “I’m gonna run, I’ll see you there!”

“You are.. great,” Jaehyun finds himself mumbling when you disappear in the mist. He follows suit not too long after, realising just why you sprinted your way to the waters so as to avoid the freezing air. He finds you by the bottom of the pool stairs, soaking yourself in the hot waters that completely cancels out the cold. Jaehyun sighs in relief when he steps in, sinking himself in until he finds himself beside you.

“This is the best thing ever?” Jaehyun comments, feeling all his muscles relax as the currents warm his body.

“Right?” you almost exclaim, feeling all too excited. “I don’t even feel the cold anymore?”

You’re not sure how but Jaehyun gets you talking about yourself as you round the pools together, seeing many other people on the way, basking in the comfort of the hot waters as yourselves. You begin to share about your life, in the same way he did last year, trying to give as much detail as him but careful enough not to overshare. You tell him you work at a pharmacy, owned by your parents that’s most likely going to be passed down to you. You talk about your parents too and what they’re like, how they’ve dedicated their whole lives into ensuring a good future for their business. You mention your older brother whom you haven’t seen in almost two years, having moved four years ago as soon as he’d graduated university to seek a bigger opportunities abroad.  

“So is working at the pharmacy what you really want to do?” Jaehyun asks softly after a while when you finish talking, the questioning having remained in his head ever since the mention of your family’s business.

You remember your older brother asking you the exact same question years ago, just before he’d left for good, knowing all too well that he’d have the same fate as you had he not eased your parents into letting him go for years on end up until his graduation. The thing was, your brother saw so much potential in you, so much more than you would ever see in yourself, no matter how hard you looked and maybe that’s why you doubted yourself so much all these years. And every single time, your doubts always overpowered even the smallest possibility or desire of leaving.

Of course it wasn’t what you wanted. It really wasn’t.

And you’ve been scared to admit that to your brother, let alone yourself. But looking at Jaehyun now, peering into your eyes as the subtle rays of the sun peek through the clouds momentarily, falling onto his features, you feel safe, safe enough to admit what you couldn’t before.

Maybe not so forwardly.

“I don’t want to leave my parents,” you answer honestly, forcing a small smile. That was another reason, if not, probably the biggest reason holding you back.

Jaehyun only smiles at you warmly, signalling he understands and doesn’t press onto the matter further, thinking maybe it was a too much of a big question to ask so early in the day. Nonetheless, he appreciates your honesty.

Jaehyun offers you a hand out of the pool after another two hours of conversation and splashing each other with water on the face until either one surrenders. You’re immediately shivering when you step out but Jaehyun is quick to clad your shoulders with a towel before taking his own even when he’s shivering way more than you are.

When Jaehyun decides it’s too early to go back into town, you take a stroll around the vicinity of the baths after getting changed, traipsing along the paths with evidence of snow being scraped off of them to the side where it mounts slightly higher before it levels off again. Jaehyun is a good listener, picking up certain details about your previous mentions to ask you more questions in attempts of getting to know you better. It feels unusual because you feel that you’ve always been one to be on the listening end, definitely not on the talking one. But Jaehyun makes it so easy despite the unfamiliarity of it all. You’re not sure how, but it didn’t matter, it made you stop and think about yourself for a while.

You hear distant echoes of screams and cheers up ahead and it grabs your attention as well as Jaehyun’s. As you walk further, you reach a bridge and right under it reveals an ice rink so vast and and so wide, with a lot of people gliding through the ice, some with ease, some not so. You stand there, watching people below for a while. It looked so much fun.

“Have you much experience with ice skating?”

You laugh unknowingly, “Why do you think I'm up here and not down there?”

Jaehyun laughs shortly but not for long when he’s grabbing you by the hand and tugging you along with him. “No no Jaehyun we are not ice skating!” you plea from behind him but he takes no notice, continuing to pull you with ease, his hand surprisingly warm on your skin. To Jaehyun, it was the perfect time to be ice skating; the sun was about to set, the streetlights about to illuminate everything in the path, and definitely the perfect time to be holding your hand.

Jaehyun leaves you with no choice when he pays for two pairs of skates without your consultation, earning himself a grimace from you when he hands you your own pair. You watch him quietly, puzzled as he skilfully secures his skates on, one foot at a time. He stands then, the blades adding a little more to his already tall stature and when he sees your skates still in your hands, unmoved since he’d given them to you, he takes you by the shoulders with his palms, gently guiding you to sit on the bench he had just been on. He bends to the ground then and wordlessly unzips each one of your boots so that he can take them off and replace them with skates. You keep your eyes on him, his brows furrowed and lips pressed together as he focuses on his task.

For the first time, you didn’t feel as cold.

“Well?” He says when he stands again after making sure your skates were tight enough, outstretching his hand for you to take.

Turns out Jaehyun doesn’t let go of your hand the whole time you skate around the rink, not after you almost flat on your face the moment you step onto the ice, his fast reflexes preventing a potential injury just in time. And it feels nice, so nice to be laughing and giggling with him as you glide along the ice while dodging other people, his hand holding yours so firmly it makes skating less daunting. Jaehyun uses his other hand to fish his phone out of his pocket and take pictures of you, though you’re unsure they come out nice because you can’t stop laughing for some reason, especially not after you almost lose balance and almost fall on your back. When you reach the edge, mutually deciding to slow down to catch your breaths, Jaehyun pulls you close to him until your body’s pressed up against his, his arm naturally landing itself around your shoulder, his phone up in the air so that he can take a picture of you both. You’re too astonished to even realise his intentions that the camera captures you staring up at Jaehyun, stunned, while he, on the other hand, smiles widely at the device.

“So will I see you here next year again?” Jaehyun asks after he swallows a bite of his burger at the best burger place he claims he has ever been to, to which you agree on when you take the first bite of yours, your stomach growling from not having eaten anything all day since breakfast in addition to all the swimming and ice skating.

You grin teasingly, leaning closer to him, narrowing your eyes, “Why? You want to see me again?”

“Yes.”

You were joking just half a second ago but Jaehyun was most certainly not. Not in the way his eyes remain on you and definitely not in the way he answers without hesitation. He’s caught you off guard yet again and you’re blinking up at him, at a loss for what to say.

“So will I be seeing you next year?” he repeats, this time more adamant. “Will I?”

You lean away from him and laugh it off casually. “Have you always been this persistent?”

“When I want something, yeah.”

Jaehyun insists on taking you back to your accommodation and you didn’t have the heart to refuse. The journey back feels long and it’s mostly because it’s eerily quiet between the two of you, neither of you having enough courage to start a conversation. Jaehyun���s playing with the tips of his fingers on the subway, his lower lip caught between his teeth, too lost in his own thoughts. He had always been one to be honest and definitely forward, but he wished he wasn’t any of those tonight because he’s convinced it’s exactly what had probably scared you away. You’re eyes shift on anything on the moving train but Jaehyun, feigning interest on the ads plastered on the ceiling above, as if you could even understand the language, but at this point, you were desperate to get your mind off Jaehyun, his presence right beside you, let alone the mere thought of him, creating a haze in your mind.

Attachment was never part of the plan.

Yet here you were, wondering what the next year might be like if it didn't consist of meeting Jaehyun and going off to places that definitely was not on your agenda.

Jaehyun stands awkwardly in front of you as you come to a halt just outside the front entrance of your hotel. You take one good look at him as he keeps his eyes to the ground because Jaehyun had found you on your last day of your stay this year which meant that this wa the last time you’d get to see him for maybe another year, if you decided to be honest with yourself tonight.

“Jaehyun?” you call out, grabbing his attention immediately when he stops kicking the ground.

He looks up at you, an apologetic smile on his face. “Thanks for today, I had so much fun. And for bringing me back too.”

“It’s no problem.”

His words from earlier echo in your head, making you wish you were as sure as he was when it came to wanting something in life because you knew, it was something you had been running away from all your life. And you were sure he knew that too and in a sense, it felt like he was testing you; trying to see if you had enough courage to make decisions in relation to what you wanted. Maybe Jaehyun knew what you wanted even before you even had the chance to figure  it out. Either that, or he was just really good at making guesses.

It was time to be honest.

So you step forward until you’re close enough to him and he watches you without blinking, his whole attention on you. And when you reach up to plant a chaste kiss on his cheek, you could almost swear you felt the heating up of his cheeks during the short contact.

“I’ll see you next year, Jaehyun.”

Winter four.

You’re not sure how you’ve been surviving for the past four years without keeping in contact with Jaehyun because you feel it the most today; you miss him. It doesn’t make sense at all. How could you miss someone you’ve spent just a day with, maybe at most, two days, for the past few years? Was that enough to miss someone this bad? According to your experience, yes. Because standing right here, right in front of the Shoes by the Danube Bank, a memorial created to honour the Jews who lost their lives during the second World War, overlooking the calm stream of the river, you wished nothing more than to see him. Unknowingly, seeing Jaehyun had become the highlight of your trip, if not, your year and what made this year scarier was that you were expecting to see him, especially after what you had said to him last year. And expectations always meant there were greater chances of disappointments. This year wasn’t like the previous ones because this time, it would no longer be all about coincidences and luck, it was all about the desire to see each other. And on your end, the feeling of missing him too.

It didn’t make sense, none of it did.

But then again, when did anything ever make sense?

Jaehyun had always found you in places that overlooked the river and in the next few days that come during your stay, you come back to all the spots by the Danube in hopes of seeing him there. But you don’t. He doesn’t show. And you’re beginning to lose hope, your insides crushing at the thought of what you’re feeling being a one-sided thing. Had Jaehyun given you mixed signals last year? Was he even giving signs? Did you misinterpret everything? It was certainly feeling like you were wrong about your whole situation the whole time when the sun rises on the second last day of your stay, your time running out and your week coming to an end. The days seem to fly even when you’re doing nothing but roam the city aimlessly and even when you try to make the most of the time you have left without Jaehyun, none of it feels the same. Budapest reminds you too much of him and seeing pieces of him in everything you looked and visited, only added to the emptiness you tried so hard to suppress.

This will definitely be your last time here.

“Stop worrying,” you speak into the phone, picking up a Christmas tree ornament from the table of one of the booths in the Christmas market. “Mom, I’m fine here, I promise.”

“You say that all the time,” she replies, her tone not one tad bit satisfied with your answer. “I wish I went with you.”

You roll your eyes playfully, handing the small star shaped ornament to the vendor so that you could pay for it. “And you do this every year too. I’ve been traveling for four years straight and I come back in one piece all the time, don’t I? I’ll be fine this time around too.”

“Don’t mind your mother! She’s just being a worry wart!” your hear your dad distantly on the line, making you smile. Your mom hisses at him just as you hand money to the woman behind the table. “Is there a reason why you always leave at this time of the year? And to the same place too?” your mom asks, concern in her voice.

There hadn’t been a particular reason at first, remembering how your finger had landed randomly on Hungary on the map when deciding where to fly to spontaneously, feeling the need to just get away for a while back then. And it had been your plan to do the exact same thing when it came to deciding where to go next after the first. But you found yourself coming back to the same place every single time and surely there was obviously a reason why.

But your mom didn’t have to know that.

“No particular reason mom,” you reply after seconds of silence, retrieving the ornament from the woman, now safe in a small turquoise paper bag. “I just really like it here in Budapest. It’s beautiful.” You thank the vendor before walking away and it takes another five minutes of convincing your mom you’re okay on your own before you’re putting your phone away in your pocket.

It’s early in the day, yet the markets are already being swarmed by people. You’re so distracted that you don’t notice a crowd rush past you, making you stumble forward when someone bumps against you, continuing on in their path after sparing you a mere glance and an inaudible apology. You’re lucky enough the paper bag in your hand doesn’t fall, for sure the ornament shattering into pieces if it did.

At such an unconventional time, your thoughts come back to Jaehyun, the memory of him shielding you away from a bustling crowd at the bastion flashing before your eyes. Everywhere really did remind you of him and it was starting to get on your nerves because with every little reminder came with a little spark of hope that you would be seeing him this year too, setting you up for even greater heights of disappointment.

Exhaling a sigh, you carry onwards, not really knowing where you’re headed. You keep your eyes plastered to the ground, thinking that maybe it could temporarily solve your inner dilemmas. If you didn’t see your surroundings, then there’d be no reminder of Jaehyun’s absence. Focus on your shoes, focus on the grey linings of the pavement, focus on anything but the fact that the reason for your visit might have bailed on you. Jaehyun wasn’t obliged to meet you, you knew that, but still, the thought left a sour taste in your mouth–

You get the fright of your life when you’re hauled off the street by the arm and into an alley that appears to be deserted by the public. But what surprises you even more is how close you are to the culprit of your heart dropping to the ground from shock. Both of your arms have landed on the stranger’s chest, most likely as a defence mechanism, a barrier between the both of you. And you’re preparing for the worst, to be taken away or to be harmed because this was exactly how people go missing. Now you understood why your mom had been so worried and you silently wish she tagged along with you.

But nothing happens.

“You’re gonna get run over by those crowds if you continue to not pay attention.”

You look up.

“Hi.”

You’re glad to see him but your first instinct is to hit him.

“How are– hey! Ow!”

“I thought you weren’t coming you idiot!”

“I’m sorry!”

“You should be!”

You push yourself away from him, straightening yourself and tugging at your clothes. You find him grinning at you and it pisses you off even more. He crosses his arms across his chest and leans on the wall behind him.

“So you were waiting for me, huh?”

You roll your eyes at him, finding no humour in the situation. His face reminds you of the stress from the past few days induced by wondering if he'd even show up. “I don’t find how this is funny.”

“Were you?”

“Where the hell have you been anyway?”

He grins even more.

“Don’t answer my question with another question, y/n.”

“I thought we agreed on this last year?” You counter again.

“Were you or were you not waiting for me?”

Jaehyun was still as persistent as you remember him last.

“Fine. Yes.”

You shut your eyes at your confession, already planning in your head for possible escapes to run away from the situation. But he doesn’t let you because he’s tugging at your arm again, hard enough that you land on his chest again. The only difference this time is that he has his arms around you, squeezing your body into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry I'm late. Something came up at home.”

Unknowingly, you relax in his embrace, the exhaustion of wondering and waiting catching up to you. “I fly back tomorrow,” you mumble.

Jaehyun stills for a bit before he tightens his hug around you. “Are you free today?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s enough time.”

None of you budge from your position, letting Jaehyun hug you for as long as he wanted, for as long as you became sure he was really here. Besides, he served as a nice human heater from the cold for the meantime.

“Missed you,” he murmurs.

Glad to know you weren’t the only one.

------

Spending the whole day with Jaehyun had never been this good and you think it’s because he hasn’t let go of your hand all day. You didn’t have any particular destination in mind today, silently agreeing with one another that today didn’t have to be all about lists of places to go to, it would just be about wandering anywhere and everywhere with each other. You didn't mind at all, even when you both loose yourselves in places you have never come across. Maybe getting lost was the only thing on today’s agenda. Every now and then, Jaehyun would steal quick glances at you, a shy smile playing on his lips and you feign ignorance by pretending not to notice because if you looked his way and met his eyes during those occasions, you weren’t sure if it would be healthy for your heart. You were already slowly melting just feeling his thumb rubbing circles on your skin, what more if you actually caught his eyes.

In the middle of the laughs and the mini facts you share about each other in the midst of playing twenty one questions during your trails, Jaehyun is snapping pictures almost every five minutes, of sceneries and buildings around you but mostly, of you doing the most mundane things like staring up at the structures, picking up random things in shops or laughing at something he had said. Jaehyun tried to be discrete about it at first but it was hard to keep that up when he was constantly lifting his camera almost every chance he got.

“I’m pretty sure you have enough pictures of me already, Jae,” you point out, shaking your head when he takes another one of you walking towards him after buying a chimney cake for you both to share. “And I’m pretty sure you’re going to end up deleting half of them too.”

Jaehyun finally lets go of his camera and lets it hang around his neck, taking the cake from you so that he can rip off a piece for you. “You’re right.”

“Exactly so–”

“You are pretty.”

You stop chewing on the piece of cake. “What? That’s not what I meant.”

“But it’s what I meant.”

You don’t argue anymore because Jaehyun resumes on eating the cake and you feel that if you poked on the topic further, it would worsen the already reddening of your cheeks. So you dismiss it, pretend like you’re not a blushing mess by continuing to eat another piece of chimney cake that he's handing over to you. Too bad that the reason Jaehyun is grinning so widely to himself is in fact because of the blushing of your cheeks.

When the sun sets and the moon takes over in the vastness of the night sky, you find yourself shoulder to shoulder with Jaehyun in one of the cars of the Budapest Eye, a Ferris wheel that gives you an aerial view of the city. You’ve seen Budapest from up high before, when Jaehyun had taken you to the St Stephen’s basilica, climbing an awful lot of stairs to reach the dome. But Budapest at night was something else too with the lights making everything glow in its path. The Chain Bridge looks magnificent from up there and you’re silent as you marvel at the view, the car stopping briefly to allow more passengers to jump in at the bottom car.

“It’s so.. beautiful,” you say, eyes sparkling at the view outside the window.

Jaehyun agrees, “Yeah,” though his eyes are not on the bridge. “So beautiful.”

You turn abruptly and catch him already staring at you and it spurs him to look away immediately, clearing his throat in the process. You take your phone out of your pocket and press for the camera icon, scooting away from Jaehyun. “It’s not fair that you have pictures of me and I have none of you.”

Jaehyun chuckles, “You could’ve just asked.”

“Yeah yeah,” you dismiss, not in the mood to have another exchange with him. You take a picture of him right there and then, not even bothering to give him a heads up. It’s a picture of him looking straight ahead, his dimple showing on the side of his face, looking cosy and warm. Even when he isn’t trying, he still looked as good as ever.

“Hey, I wasn't ready,” he complains and tries to have a peek at the photo.

“Now you know how I felt the entire day,” you counter, unamused. “The picture looks good though.”

“Good enough to be your wallpaper?” Jaehyun asks teasingly.

Of course it was. Probably every single photo of Jaehyun is good enough to be anyone's wallpaper. But he didn’t need to know that. “Hey, don’t get ahead of yourself.”

Jaehyun laughs and scoots over to you, making the car shake slightly, prompting you to hold on to the bar next to you. “Hey be careful,” you warn him, earning yet another chuckle from him.

“Let’s take a picture together, so you have one of us too,” he suggests and takes your phone swiftly off your hands. Jaehyun slings an arm around your shoulders and naturally, you lean towards him, even going as far as resting your head between the space of his neck and shoulder. It seems to satisfy Jaehyun because you can see his smile broaden through the screen of your phone just before he presses the button to take the picture.

It feels nice to be this close to Jaehyun and he gives your shoulder a light squeeze as a silent affirmation that you didn't have to pull away so soon, that you could stay right where you were even as he lowers your phone after the picture’s been taken. Your arms find shelter around Jaehyun’s waist in the seconds that come, as the wheel continues to spin and as the car ascends again. You release a sigh of relief, feeling the calmest you’ve ever been in so long and it makes you close your eyes, to feel Jaehyun’s warmth a little more, to bask in his presence while he’s here. Jaehyun’s rubbing at your shoulder gently with the palm of his hand, leaning closer to you until his temple rests on the top of your head.

Neither of you speak for a while, the silence too delicate and fragile to disturb. It’s refreshing; not having to think or worry about anything for now, Jaehyun’s mere presence enough to cancel out every little insignificant thing. You take it all in because tomorrow would be a whole different story.

When the wheel stops spinning and your car halts at the bottom, you peel yourself away from Jaehyun and prepare to leave when you notice the tips of his ears are a deep shade of red. You can’t stop looking at them even as he helps you off the car. “Jae? Your ears, they’re really red.”

“Oh?” His hands fly to touch either of them. “I feel really warm.”

You frown at him, “It’s minus five degrees.”

“Oh, must be the cold.”

So in order to fight the “cold”, Jaehyun insists on grabbing mulled wine on your trek back to your hotel and as you down the warm beverage, the more honest your conversations get. Maybe it’s the certain percentage of alcohol in the drink or the fact that time was ticking against the both of you, but it seemed very fitting to be honest around each other now. You also get to understand Jaehyun a little better.

“Remember when I thought you were a model at first?” you recall your earliest memories of Jaehyun, his hand clasped in yours. “And how shocked I was when you said you were head of a marketing team because I really did think you were a model.”

Jaehyun smiles at you fondly. “You’re not wrong. I was a model once.”

“No way? Really?”

“Mhm.”

“What happened?”

Jaehyun stops in his steps, a sad smile adorning his lips, eyes kept to the ground. You look back at him, his hand pulling on yours as he stops walking. He looks up at you then, eyes a little sorrowful, “I got tired of it. Tired of having to look perfect all the time.”

When your paper cups are empty and discarded, both of you find yourselves seated on a bench that gives you a great view of the Chain Bridge up close. You sit as close to each other as possible to preserve warmth, the cold not enough to bother you both, especially you, not when Jaehyun had so much more to say.

“That’s when I knew modelling wasn’t for me,” he starts, gazing at your intertwined hands. “Getting praises left and right for how I looked was great for a while, it boosted my confidence a lot. But at some point, it got too much,” he looks at you, “It felt like my appearance was the only thing that mattered. No one knew me and no one took the time to get to know me. One look at my face and they thought that that was all they needed from me. I got validation for my looks rather than for who I was as a person.”

Jaehyun draws in a breath, “It just wasn't fulfilling. And I felt pressured to look good all the time. I just knew it wasn’t for me then.”

You stare at him, studying his features. Who would’ve known that his appearance gave him such huge burden at some point. Yet you understand where he's coming from, relating all too well what it feels like to have to put up a front all the time.

Jaehyun is about to say something next and you’re sure it’s something that will change the topic altogether, but you don’t let him just yet because you had to let him know.

“You’re way more than your appearance, Jae.” He trails his eyes on you then, lifting his head up for the first time. “Way way more than your looks. You’re kind, you’re intelligent, you’re hardworking and you’re good at taking care of people around you. Not to mention, your touring skills too.” Jaehyun’s eyes on you don’t falter for even a second and you avoid his gaze by resting your head on his shoulder. “I wish people could see that, how great of a person you really are.”

“You mean that?”

“Mhm. I really do.”

Jaehyun stares out into the river feeling his chest a lot lighter, never really knowing it had been that heavy in the first place. Everyone had insecurities and what Jaehyun had just spoken of, was definitely his. For so long, he'd been carrying it with him, everywhere he went, everything he did, feeling like nobody really saw him from the inside out.

Until now. Until you.

And that was definitely the tipping point for him.

The final push that made him so sure he was definitely falling for you.

“What do you think will happen to us next year?” Jaehyun asks softly, playing with your fingers. “You know this unspoken no-contact-with-each-other rule is getting really hard.”

Jaehyun sounds like he’s joking but you know he’s serious. If you were being honest, it was taking its toll on you too. The past year had consisted of mornings with thoughts of Jaehyun and wondering and asking how he might be doing. You were at home, not even in Budapest yet you still thought of him almost every single day. But the idea of not having contact with Jaehyun seemed more ideal because it meant this whole thing didn’t demand any sort of commitment. It was a one time thing during a specific time of year. It also meant limiting the chances of a potential heartbreak because if you were going to be very very honest with yourself, a whole day with Jaehyun was enough for you to unconsciously become attached.

“I was thinking of maybe going to another country,” you answer finally after so long, weighing all your what ifs and possible outcomes of what you’re about to say. “You know my dad, I think my dad’s been more open-minded to me traveling and seeing the world now.”

“Yeah?”

You nod against his shoulder, “Mhm. Remember how I told you it took my brother years and years to finally convince my parents to let him live abroad? Well, my dad sat down with over coffee a few months back and said he really likes seeing me talk about my travels. He said it’s probably the happiest he’s ever seen me.”

Jaehyun is smiling at you when you lift your head off his shoulder, “And I was thinking I could go somewhere else so that I'd have a different country to talk to him about.” It was a shallow reason but not exactly a lie. Your dad had been hesitant of letting you go, much like Jaehyun’s parents, but the more you left home every year, the more lenient and supportive he had become in allowing you to fly. It sparked hope in you, that these travels would be the key for you to ease them into realising that maybe staying at home forever and working at a place you've known all your life wasn't exactly what you wanted.

But the bigger reason why you didn’t want to come back to this place that had become your ultimate favourite had something to do with the past week in Jaehyun’s absence. Everywhere here reminded you of him and there were too much memories in all the places you walk by, too much memories of a person who probably was just as unsure as you as to where this whole thing between you was heading towards. You were only beginning to figure out your life and you weren’t confident you needed one more thing that needed figuring out on your list.

“I’m really happy for you y/n,” Jaehyun says genuinely but a question lingers in his mind. Where was he in the picture? “Do you have your eyes set somewhere in particular?”

You shake your head because you had no clue, besides, you had only made up your mind just there. “Not yet, no.”

Jaehyun purses his lips together in a thin line as he falls silent. Was he expecting too much? Because the utter disappointment certainly felt like it. “So, I guess I won’t be seeing you next year then?”

His voice breaks your heart because his words come out in a bare whisper, sounding more like a statement for himself rather than a question for you.

“Jae–”

“It’s alright.”

It really wasn't, but in his eyes, you didn't need to know that. You were under no obligation to see him despite how he felt for you and maybe your decision would be the best for the two of you.

“Can you just, come here?” Jaehyun asks extending his arm out, beckoning you to come and rest against him. You follow, leaning into him until you’re comfortably pressed up against his side, his arm around your waist keeping you secure. Jaehyun exhales a breath, a small and brief fog getting lost in the air. “I hope you had fun today, y/n, I did.”

“Jae please don’t.”

You’ve made your decision but you were definitely not ready for a goodbye yet.   You take your head off of his shoulder so that you can look at him, his sad eyes a reminder of what awaits tomorrow. Your eyes are reflected on his and they appear just as miserable as his. You lean forward until your forehead touches with his, taking in what’s left of your time together. You feel the warmth of his breath on your skin and suddenly you're too aware of how close you both are to each other. So when you pull away, your eyes drift to his lips just as his are on yours.

And you feel like you're going to regret it forever if you don’t do what your brain’s telling you to do. So you shut your eyes and lean in close, until your lips meet with his, time standing still, bodies warming at the contact.

Jaehyun reciprocates the kiss, shifting his hands so that one keeps you still by nape, one caressing your jaw. If Jaehyun couldn’t tell you with words how much he wanted you to stay, he hoped he could express it in the kiss that makes his head spin and his heart hammer against his ribcage.

Because he wanted nothing more but to keep seeing you, even if it meant waiting another year.

But it mustn’t have been enough.

Because you don’t change your mind.

And you still leave the next day, without any promise of a next year to look forward to.

Winter five.

It feels unusual not to be in the same place for the fifth winter in a row but at the same time, it feels good to be somewhere you’ve never been, all the places you have yet to see, endless. The grand city of Paris known as the city of lights, well recognised for its exquisite cuisine, unique culture and historic monuments, but also known as the city of love. You’ve researched a tonne of information prior to landing and the word “love” related to the city intrigues you the most. The internet and travel brochures list many reasons as to why Paris is indeed the city of love but being here now, having strolled down the Champs Elysees and having followed the River Seine along its path, you could definitely feel and see why it was recognised as a romantic city. In almost every direction you looked, couples were scattered everywhere, holding hands, taking pictures of one another, sharing a laugh. Love was all around and it wasn’t even Valentine’s day. You feel loved too because you’re greeted with smiles as you walk past people, making your insides warm and fuzzy.

But there’s also that feeling too.

You miss him.

And you can’t get the image of him from that night out of your head because he was smiling yet his eyes spoke of a different story. No matter how much you try to push him out of your thoughts, even going as far as picking some place else as to avoid him, it was almost impossible because your subconscious had developed this habit of naturally looking for him the moment you stepped on a plane to fly off to somewhere. Maybe picking Paris was a mistake because now you were imagining what it would be like to see the view from up the Eiffel Tower with him. After all, the greatest views of your life have so far been shared with him. And to think that Paris is indeed the city of love... you couldn't help but wonder if this trip would have been more meaningful if you hand’t been so scared that night.

You catch yourself sighing again as you turn the page of your book, your half empty cup of coffee sitting in front of you on a table that overlooks the River Seine. Brené Brown says that “vulnerability is not winning or losing; it’s having the courage to show up and be seen when we have no control over the outcome. Vulnerability is not weakness; it’s our greatest measure of courage.” You lift your eyes off the page and contemplate, letting your eyes wander over the crystals on the river that shine as a result of the sun’s rays shining on the surface. Vulnerability. Weakness. Courage. These three words ring in your head and though very different from one another, seem to complement each other very well.

Vulnerability.

What was it like to be vulnerable? You sit and contemplate and come to the conclusion after minutes of trying to recall times where you have been vulnerable, that in fact, no memory comes to mind. With this discovery, comes the realisation that you had so much inside of you to unpack, so much emotions repressed deep down and so much issues that needed to be addressed and talked about. Vulnerability suddenly seemed so daunting to you because it meant letting people in and you weren’t certain you wanted to allow that yet. You’ve been putting up your walls so high all your life that it’s horrifying to even think about lowering them down even just a tiny bit.

Your train of thought gets interrupted with the shrill ringing of your phone. You’re quick to fish it out of your bag and slide the green button across the screen just in time to hear you dad’s voice on the other line. “Hey, dad.”

“Hey sweetheart, how’s Paris?” He sounds excited to hear from you, you can literally hear him smiling through the phone.

He makes you smile genuinely, as if what you were thinking seconds prior to this phone call didn't just make you contemplate your whole life altogether. “Paris is great. Absolutely beautiful dad, I wish you could come and visit sometime.”

He chuckles on the line and you can imagine the wrinkles on the corner of his eyes appear. “That would be great. I can’t wait to hear all of your stories when you get back.”

“In three days dad, I’ll see you in three days,” you reply, the thought of going back neither making you happy nor sad.

There’s a long pause that follows before your dad speaks again. “Everything alright sweetheart?”

Everything was alright. But it didn’t really feel like it.

“Y-yeah. Just, uhh, thinking.”

You hear shuffling in the background followed by a quiet sound of a door opening and closing and you figure your dad had just gone out to the patio, his favourite part of the house back home, most likely looking upwards to see if there were any stars visible in his night sky.

“Listen love, I know you fly back in three days, but no rush okay? Take as much time as you need,” he reassures and somehow he’s unintentionally lifted so much weight off of your chest, the sincerity coated with a hint of worry in his voice triggering your waterworks. “Take all the time you need to think. We owe you at least that. I’ll deal with your mom.”

“Dad.”

“Alright I gotta go. Stay safe and take lots of pictures! Love you.”

Weakness.

Your parents were your absolute weakness, and possibly the biggest hindrances to all the things that your heart would’ve desired. You could never imagine breaking their hearts, that was the absolute last thing you’d ever want to do. That’s why you think you’ve been living such a sheltered life with no risks, no boundaries overstepped and certainly no rules broken. You’ve been programmed to portray the image of the most perfect child to your parents that even the thought of disappointing them makes you grimace and your chest tighten. They take pride in you, always showing you and all the things you’ve achieved, off to friends and family and the absolute perfect person they know you to be.

But why wasn’t it fulfilling at all?

Love was making your loved ones happy, wasn’t it?

You’ve known nothing all your life but to put family first and now that your dad was pushing you to spend time away from them and dedicate it to yourself, you’re beginning to think that maybe you hadn't been so discreet with what you’ve worked so hard to hide. Now that he was urging you to put yourself first, it felt like abandoning everything you’ve known all your life and starting on a clean, blank slate. He definitely saw something you didn't.

But where do you even begin?

“Oh my God I can’t believe you’re here!” You shriek as you see a familiar man standing by the revolving doors by the entrance of your hotel. You pick up your pace and run to the person you haven’t seen in so long, tears almost brimming your eyes as you find yourself crushed in a tight hug.

Your brother laughs against your shoulder, tightening his hug, “And I can’t believe you didn't tell me you were in Paris? Which is literally what? Right beside where I am?”

You hug him some more before you finally let go of him, eyeing him from head to toe, unconsciously picking out on things that have changed over the years, but much to your surprise, you don’t find any. “How did you know?”

Kun chuckles, “Mom called.”

You roll your eyes playfully, “Of course.”

“She’s just worried about you,” Kun defends.

“When is she not?”

“Feisty as always,” Kun comments, ruffling your hair.

Kun fills you in on what’s been happening in his life in the years he’s been away from home. He tells you all about Berlin and how much he loves it there, how in love he is with work and how different but magnificent the place is. He looks happy, really happy, the happiest you’ve ever seen him in all the years you’ve lived with each other and with your parents. As you listen to him gush about his plans and a possible promotion in Denmark over brunch and warm croissants, you can’t help but feel a wave of admiration for him. Growing up, Kun has always been your role model. Not in a sense that he always pleased your parents, because growing up, Kun, despite having good grades and never getting in trouble, he and your parents were just never on the same page when it came to talks of the future. You admired him because from the very beginning, he always knew what he wanted and sought and fought for it even if it meant hurting those who loved him the most.

“Earth to y/n?” Kun waves a hand in front of your face when he sees you’ve zoned out, your food half touched.

You blink a couple of times before you’re able to refocus on your brother again, “Sorry. What were you saying?”

Kun shakes his head with a smile, “I was asking how mom and dad are at home.”

“They’re okay. Still the same,” you reply and hope it would suffice but the way Kun is looking at you tells you he needed more. “The pharmacies are doing okay. Mom and dad say business is as at its best right now. That’s pretty much what they’re still up to.”

“Mom still as uptight as ever?”

You nod, smiling, “Yeah. She hasn’t changed one bit.”

“Expected that one,” Kun agrees teasingly. “And dad?”

“Dad’s been..” you start, remembering your phone call with him yesterday. “He’s been okay, still goofy.”

“You know dad’s been telling me about your yearly travels,” Kun admits, his tone of voice shifting to a more serious one, taking a sip from his water. “How come you didn't tell me? I know you have my number. And if it weren’t for mom, I would’ve never known you were so close.”

You sigh, dropping your knife and fork on the table, “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just I didn't know what to say or how to tell you. I didn’t even really understand what I was getting myself into. I just.. wanted to go away.”

“Well I can’t say I'm not surprised given I know what you’re like,” Kun says. If there was one person who had known you best, it would be him. “But hell, y/n, I'm so happy for you? I really really am. It mustn’t have been easy leaving on your own like that.”

“You make it sound like I’m a baby, Kun.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” Kun leans forward and crosses his arms on the table so that he can rest his weight on it. “What I meant was that, growing up, you were always working so hard to please mom and dad. You always prioritised what they wanted more than anything else and I think in that process, you forgot all about what you wanted. So much that you don’t even know what you actually want because you’ve never had the time to actually think about it.”

Kun’s eyes are sincere and his words even more so. “Dad’s been worrying about you, you know. And not in the way that mom is, like you know with your safety and all that during your travels. But with your life in general.. He’s worried he hasn’t been a great parent to you, that he never really took the time to listen to you or what you wanted.” Kun pauses and releases a sigh, “Dad.. I think he knows you’re not happy at home, y/n.”

Right on instinct, even at this moment, you’re thinking about how horrible your dad must feel for seeing right through all the layers to conceal the truth.

“Was it..” you pause, thinking if it’s the right question to ask but Kun is gazing at you tenderly, just needing his little sister to voice what’s on her mind.

“Was it hard leaving home?”

Kun smiles, “It was harder proving to them I didn't want to stay.” You nod slowly, recounting the endless fights and arguments Kun had with your parents, getting the worst end of it from your mom. “Because I love them to pieces and I saw how much it broke their hearts when I told them.”

“Yeah?”

“And of course, it was hard leaving you too,” he teases, breaking the atmosphere that had almost become suffocating.

You roll your eyes, “You don’t have to lie.”

Kun just laughs, his shoulders shaking as he does before he falls silent again with you, the distant chatters of people in the café filling your ears.

“You should give it a thought, y/n,” he suggests, making you look up from your plate. “About what you want. Mom and dad.. they’ll be okay. Sooner or later they’re going to realise you were made for so much more. And they’re going to be okay with it, because more than anything, they love you and love means letting go too.”

You spend the rest of the day goofing around with your older brother, waves of nostalgia hitting you when it takes you back to older and simpler times. You take lots of pictures together and send it to your parents to which they’re more than ecstatic to receive, your mom’s worries and concerns easing slightly with the knowledge you were with family. Kun teases you nonstop about not having a boyfriend but his teasing backfires when he realises he’s single too, pretending to weep about it in the end. You wonder if you’d tell him about Jaehyun but decide against it knowing more questions would unfold at the mere mention of his name.

“Will you please get in touch with me and stop ignoring my calls and texts?” Kun pleads the next day when you bring him to the airport. “I want to know my sister’s whereabouts too and what she’s up to.”

You laugh as you embrace him for the last time, “I don’t want you tagging along though if I do though.”

“Rude.”

“I’ll pick up your calls, I promise.”

Kun pulls back from the hug and grips you by the shoulders to take one good look at you, “If only my schedule allowed me to stay longer, one day wasn’t enough.”

You smile at him reassuringly, “It’s okay. There’ll be plenty more trips in the future,” he raises his brows at you and gives you a knowing look, “that I promise I will let you know of.”

Kun smiles immediately and pats your head, “Good. Enjoy your last two days okay? And think about what I said.”

You nod eagerly, feeling relieved to have had that conversation with Kun yesterday. “I will. Have a safe flight.”

“Love you.”

When you walk along the River Seine once again, you notice many things along the bridges you didn’t notice before, paintings and artists being some of them. It makes you stop in your step when a particular painting of the Eiffel Tower, located just behind where this particular stand is, catches your eye. It’s a painting of the tower at night, the thousands of lightbulbs lighting up and glistening in the painting with the dashes of yellows and oranges just like it would in real life. You’re tilting your head to the side to really figure out what it is about this painting, besides its perfection, that has you so captivated and feeling some sort of way. You must be staring for so long because the man that’s running the stand approaches you and says something you don’t quite hear the first time around.

“Can I help you, miss?” he asks again in French to which you politely decline with your limited vocabulary.

The sun has fully set when you climb the Eiffel Tower, braving the cold winds to gape at the view below you. It’s all so breathtaking, the way all the lights fall into place, shedding incandescence in all the right places. You can see the river stretch on for miles on end, the buildings that try to rise as high as the Eiffel and the roads that lead to anywhere and everywhere. It’s so gorgeous that you know, even as you take your camera out of your bag, that no photo could ever capture just how magnificent it all was. You give up trying to capture the perfect picture after taking three, choosing to just stop and marvel at the view some more.

Courage.

You don’t have any recollection of moments you’ve been courageous, the closest that comes to mind is probably when you had to stand up in front of an entire lecture hall to give a presentation about the causes and consequences of the rise and fall of economies back in university, or maybe that time you broke it to your parents that you had flights booked for Budapest on a whim, something that up to this day, surprises you greatly they actually let you go. But nothing significant or life changing sticks out, nothing worth giving yourself a pat on the back for accompanied with the words “I’m proud of myself.” You suddenly begin to feel so small then, one big question resonating in your head.

What had you accomplished?

“God, I should’ve known I'd find you here.”

You carry on with your business, turning on your heels to see what the view might be like on the other end of the railing, not really wanting to eavesdrop on someone’s conversation, your distance to them too close you could hear everything.

“You’ve always liked your views.”

Still too close so you keep walking.

“Y/n.”

You freeze. It couldn’t be.

But it really is.

Because when you turn around, Jaehyun is there, eyes set on you with that same smile you can’t stop thinking about.

Your face must have given away how shocked you feel internally because you see Jaehyun chuckling. “What are you...” you can’t even find your voice because it’s as if all the thinking about Jaehyun day and night has actually brought him here to you.

Jaehyun takes a step forward and he sees you flinch, really confirming that he really is real. He stops there in his spot, afraid that if he advanced any further, he’d scare you away completely.

“Look y/n, hear me out. I just need you to listen, okay?” Jaehyun takes a deep breath and that’s when you realise that he’s breathless.

“I don’t know how to say this– but, I– I, like you y/n. And if I'm going to be very honest, I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you. Which I know sounds crazy considering the short amount of time we’ve spent with each other. But I know, I just know and it’s taken me so long to figure out what to do because I've never even felt this before and I don’t want to scare you away, that’s the last thing I want to do–”

If there were to be a good time to be courageous it would definitely be now and you’re sure you were going to thank yourself later.

In the middle of Jaehyun’s messy confession, your legs take over, bringing you right to him, circle your arms around his neck and prevent him from uttering yet another coherent sentence by kissing him. He pulls you close just in time to confirm this was indeed your reality, that he wasn’t just in your thoughts anymore, that he really was here kissing you too.

For the first time ever, you felt courageous and it felt so liberating.

The heavens pour just when you reach the bottom of the Eiffel Tower and you’re a laughing mess with Jaehyun as you scurry under the rain to get to your hotel, which, you’re thankful is just close by. You’re drenched to the skin when you reach the reception of your hotel, the two of you leaving a little trail of water on the shiny marble floors. You shoot the receptionist an apologetic smile before pulling Jaehyun to the side.

“Whereabouts are you staying?” you ask out of curiosity, gathering up all your hair on top of one shoulder.

Jaehyun smiles bashfully, a hand flying upwards to rub his nape, “Actually... about that.”

“What?” You squint your eyes at him.

“I don’t know yet.”

“What do you mean you don’t know yet?”

Jaehyun swipes his tongue over his lower lip and stuffs his balled palms into the pockets of his wet jeans. “Well, this is actually the fifth country I've been to the past two weeks and I was gonna stop looking for you here–” he purses his lips to stop. “I, I must have forgotten to book myself a hotel and the airlines apparently lost my luggage today.”

You gaze at him in awe, droplets of water dripping down the side of his face, your body warm and your insides even warmer. You can’t suppress the smile that’s getting bigger on your face.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“You are one crazy man, Jaehyun.”

But as crazy as he is, you give him shelter for the night, pulling him by the hand to your hotel room. If Jaehyun liked to steal glances at you before, he surely loved to stare at you now, even as you’re using the hairdryer to dry his clothes. You don’t reciprocate his gaze because he was currently half naked with a towel wrapped around his waist. It takes another thirty minutes for his clothes to dry, just enough time for you to finally breathe now that he isn’t smiling at you.

Jaehyun had suggested to take the sofa for the night and you’re quick to say no when you realise that the sofa is literally half his height. His would suffer in the morning having to compromise his height like that the whole night. So that’s how you end up face to face with him on your single bed, faces and bodies just inches away from each other’s, warm and cozy under the sheets. He’s playing with strands of your hair (that has since dried) and it almost lulls you to sleep, if it weren’t for everything you wanted to say to him.

“I think I finally know what I want to do, Jae,” you mumble, your lids closed as he continues the ministrations of his fingers on your hair.

“Yeah? Enlighten me.”

“I want to paint.”

Memories of your childhood replay in your head, the long forgotten hobby re-igniting a spark of passion within you. No wonder the painting by the river earlier captivated you so much, it reminded you of something you had once felt so passionate about.

When Jaehyun doesn’t say anything and when he stops playing with your hair, you open your eyes to find him smiling at you, dimples showing, gaze on you soft, his happiness for you literally written on his face. So you scoot closer just as he welcomes you into his arms, feeling like you’re  right in the place you’re meant to be.

“You are amazing,” he breathes.

“It’s taken me twenty five years to figure out what I want to do with my life Jae, what part of that is amazing?” you muse, tracing your index finger on his forehead to swipe a piece of hair away.  

“And it’s taken me twenty six years to figure out what I want in mine,” Jaehyun chuckles. “That’s one year later than you. I think you’re doing a pretty great job y/n.”

You stare up at him, let your eyes linger on every single one of his features, your finger tracing the soft of his skin. He was even more beautiful up close. Jaehyun watches you closely, studying your expression of awe. Little do you know he had the exact same thoughts as you having you this close to him.

“Jae can we talk about what you said in the tower earlier?”

Jaehyun avoids your gaze and rests his forehead on yours, cuddling you even closer. “Please don’t remind me. That was not how I intended to confess, I swear.”

“But was it true? That you’re, you’re?”

“Yeah, it’s true. I am.”

“Jae look at me,” you say, cupping his cheek. “Please?”

So he opens his eyes and for a brief moment, you swear you see his pupils dilate when he gazes at you. Taking a deep breath, Jaehyun finally finishes off what he had started earlier but not before seeking approval from your eyes which he receives almost immediately.

“I realised that what I've wanted my whole life was to be understood, y/n, just for someone, anyone, to really see me. And I didn’t even realise I wanted that until you saw right through me.” Jaehyun was definitely something else.

“Remember what you said to me last year by the river? That I was so much more than my appearance, that I was way more than what people perceived me to be? I, I didn’t know I needed to hear that until I did. And that’s when I knew, you ripped the words right out of my mouth because finally, someone understood.” Jaehyun smiles softly at you, eyes unmoving the whole time he speaks.

“Someone finally saw me,” he finishes. “You saw me.”

In the silence of your thoughts and in the comfort of Jaehyun’s confession, you let yourself be brave one more time and allow yourself to fall, fall for the beautiful person he is through and through.

The word vulnerable reappears in your head along with the memory of Jaehyun asking the right questions to lead you to what you’ve learned about yourself in the past couple of weeks, maybe even the past few years. With every question came with some sort of an answer that led you closer to discovering just what you might really want in your life. And it gets you thinking that maybe you have been vulnerable before. Once you began looking for Jaehyun, was the exact same time you let him in.

You kept looking for him everywhere because with him, everything seemed to make more sense.

And even though you didn’t have the right words to tell him that for now, you hope that your lips would suffice for now, leaning upwards to catch his soft lips with yours, silently letting him know you felt the same way.

No words would be enough to describe how alive you feel, how alive Jaehyun makes you feel, awakening parts of you that have slept for far too long.

Jaehyun was indeed way more than his good looks. Jaehyun was gentle, honest and sincere, you felt it all in the way he smiled, the way he talked and in the way he kissed you. He was the living definition of ethereal, and his beauty shone the most on the inside.

“Come back to Korea with me,” Jaehyun murmurs when you pull away, keeping yourself warm and safe in his embrace. “My friend’s getting married and I need a date. I want you to be my date.”

You laugh heartily, the sound echoing in the room.

“I would love to be your date, Jae.”

You were definitely not returning home just yet.

#jaehyun #nct #jeong jaehyun #nct jaehyun #nct 127 #nct u #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun drabbles #jaehyun blurbs #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun fic #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct drabbles #nct blurbs #nct fluff #nct au #jaehyun scenario #jaehyun imagine #jaehyun drabble #jaehyun blurb #nct scenario #nct drabble #nct imagine #nct blurb #jung jaehyun #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines

[funkwhistle]

Bruises

Pairing: Dutch Van Der Linde x fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, a little bit of dubious content later

Prompt: 3.3k - Reader and Dutch being a secret thing in camp and at Clemens Point reader removes more clothes/changes and reveals these almighty hickeys and finger shaped bruises covering their body. - from @dragonwolf121​ - 

(Image is mine - don’t reupload without credit)

The hot summer rain had let up for a few minutes this morning, but it was back with vengeance by noon, drumming heavily on the tents and turning the usually dry grass in camp into muddy swathes. Cain loved these, of course, rolling in them and shaking mud on everything whenever he could. Miss Grimshaw had let you off any jobs which required you to leave the little shelter provided by the girls' wagon. Occasionally, someone left camp for some reason, and returned a few hours later looking dishevelled and like a drowned rat; even though the rain was warm, the air was cooling rapidly.

You were sitting cutting vegetables for the stew next to Tilly, watching as the rain created ripples on the lake. On the other side of camp, Arthur and Dutch were huddled, whispering, in the opening to the latter's tent, although it mostly involved pointing at the rain and scowling. As you were watching them, Dutch caught your eye and you could see the faintest hint of a smile crossing his face as he looked at you, turning back to the conversation before Arthur caught what he was looking at.

Just his look alone made you forget what you'd been doing, your heart dancing happily in your chest at the fact he was happy to see you. Chancing another glance, you could tell he wasn't as absorbed in the conversation as before, his eyes kept flitting to yours over Arthur's shoulder and he kept shifting awkwardly. You hoped he was thinking of what you were; how the pair of you had spent the majority of the last night.

You sighed as he moved, placing languid, open-mouthed kisses on your jawline. His hands held the top of your thighs, digging bruises into your skin as you straddled his lap on the bed, head tilted to the side to give him better access to your neck. The pair of you had been at this for a while, enjoying the comfort of the other's arms, and the soft kisses you placed on each other. Dutch, however, clearly had other ideas as he rolled his hips into yours, making you let out another breathy sigh, aware that all that was separating you from the rest of camp was four thin canvas walls.

“I've missed this,” he hummed, attacking your neck again with kisses which made your eyes flutter closed. He'd been away on a job with the Sheriff for a few days, and tonight was the first night the pair of you could reunite without suspicion. You couldn't remember how you'd lived at camp before seeing him, these illicit nighttime visits brought a thrill to your comparatively mundane life.

Much to your disappointment, however, he pulled away from you, allowing the both of you to catch a breath and look at the other's face; the pupils in his dark eyes were blown wide, and his usually well-pomaded hair was ruffled as a result of your roaming hands. You loved to see him like this, the usually powerful gang leader covered in smudged lipstick and eyes full of lust for you. Just thinking this made you smile, and you kissed him again, making him groan a little as you rolled your hips.

“Hello? Are you in there?” Tilly was waving her hand in front of your face, shaking you back into the present and making you realise you'd been staring into the distance, vegetables long forgotten in front of you. “What were you thinking about?” she asked, moving to sit beside you again, she was sewing Karen's dress which had a fresh tear in.

“Obviously it was something saucy, she's gone all red!” Mary-Beth laughed, throwing a cloth at you. You knew she loved the romance books, her nose always buried in one, driving Miss Grimshaw mad and making the rest of camp laugh. Shaking your head dismissively at Mary-Beth, you laughed their comments off, repressing the memory in favour of chopping tonight's stew vegetables.

The remainder of the afternoon passed without interest, the rain stopped as the evening drew in, allowing you to leave the wagon and walk around camp to stretch your legs. You'd walked to the edge of camp, sitting on a damp branch to look out over the lake when you heard footsteps behind you. Knowing you were outside camp now, you hand found the knife in your boot, wrapping your fingers around the familiar handle as the footsteps neared. Heart pounding, you spun around to point the knife at the oncoming stranger.

“Well, that's one way to greet me,” Dutch chuckled lightly, grabbing your hand and redirecting the knife away from his face as he walked to sit beside you on the log. You tucked the blade back into your boot, shuffling so he could sit comfortably, slightly embarrassed at your reaction to him approaching.

“You know someone could see us,” you objected, although you wished nothing more than for the pair of you to sit together for a little longer.

“Nobody dares to follow me out of camp aside from Hosea, and he's drinking again,” Dutch smiled a little as he said this, placing his hand on your knee, making your heart leap to your throat. Glancing behind you, you leaned so your head was on his shoulder, you felt him pressing a kiss onto the top of your head as you sighed in bliss, this was where you were happy.

You sat there for a while, enjoying listening to his breathing, and how his hands moved over your knee; both of you looking out over Flat Iron Lake, seeing birds on the island fight over some food, and, occasionally, a silver glimpse of a fish in the water. It was relaxing, and it took your mind off the worries of camp, or of the next job the man beside you was plotting.

This tranquillity didn't last long, however, and Dutch's hand kept riding higher and higher up your thigh, making your mind race into all manner of possible situations. Before you could say anything to him, he'd turned to look expectantly at you, indicating his lap. Happily, you straddled his lap, all previous inhibitions disregarded in anticipation to feel his lips on yours again. Even though he'd kissed you last night, you felt as though he was a drug you couldn't yet quit. And you didn't have to wait long, as he crashed his lips onto yours without hesitation.

Compared to the romantic, gentle kisses you'd exchanged last night, these were harsh and full of need from both of you - you'd been hiding this relationship since Blackwater. Quickly, the kisses moved from your lips to your jaw, to your neck. Then the kisses turned into gentle bites and licks, sure to leave their mark on tomorrow's skin. His hands found your thighs again, like last night, ensuring you couldn't move away from him as he continued his loving attack on your neck.

“We can't do this here,” you said, realising where this was headed and twisting away so you could look at him. “Someone could come and see us,” He nodded, placing a quick kiss upon your lips; while neither of you were happy with this decision, you moved from his lap, his hands still touching any part of you he could as you sat back down next to him.

“Come see me again tonight,” he said quietly, taking in his handiwork over your neck.

“I'll be late, I think Karen suspects something, she asked where I was last night,”

“I don't mind,” Dutch murmured, pressing a final kiss onto your cheek before he stood up, offering you a hand up as well. “I'll see you later my dear,” You smiled a little at his last statement, watching him disappear back through the trees to camp while you stood, thinking about him.

You pulled your coat up in order to hide the bruises forming on your neck, deciding to change as soon as you reached camp into something high-necked, praying nobody would speak to you as you did.

Fortunately, your prayers were answered, most of the camp was gathered around the campfire, making it easy for you to go to the wagon and change. Although as you snuck through camp, you could swear you had the attention of a Mr Van Der Linde who was very much enjoying your reaction. You could feel his smirk from across camp as you reemerged from changing, knowing he'd make a sarcastic remark about it tonight, before adding to the collection on your neck.

The night progressed, and you sat with the other girls, laughing over Sean's drunken singing and Uncle threatening to flash him if he doesn't shut up. You'd managed to drink a few beers, and everything was tinted with the blissfulness of feeling tipsy, somehow the awful jokes Bill told were funnier, and Lenny's dancing seemed almost professional. It wasn't until Miss Grimshaw came and told you all off for being up late did you go to bed, giggling over something trivial with Mary-Beth.

You removed the extra layers you'd been wearing, the darkness covering the bruises on your neck as you all settled onto the roll mats; praying the rain did not return overnight, the damp ground could be felt through your mat, but you were consoled by the fact you'd be nestled in Dutch's bed soon enough.

Fortunately, alcohol let the others get to sleep fast, Karen was soon snoring loudly, and you wiggled into a sitting position, so you could pull your coat around you and sneak to his tent. Javier and Micah were still sitting by the fire, so you made an effort to remain in the shadows, knowing if they realised where you were going you'd be subjected to endless teasing.

“Psst-” you hissed, fiddling fruitlessly with the catch on Dutch's tent, until you felt his fingers over yours, undoing it with ease and letting you into the warmth. The small wood burner was blazing, and some of his wet clothes were hung up to dry in front of it. You were endlessly jealous of this, your dresses had to dry at the whim of nature, praying it would remain sunny enough for them to dry before another rainfall. Dutch noticed you shiver a little at the temperature change, indicating for you to sit by the fire until you were warmer.

“Are you alright my dear?” he settled down beside you, wrapping you in his warm arms, sitting behind you on the pallet floor.

“I'm alright, just tired of the rain,”

He opened the book carefully in front of you, looking over your shoulder to read, his large hands engulfing the small book, rings shining in the light from the fire as he started to read.

“Me too,” Dutch replied, and after a little deliberation, he shifted from you, picking up something you couldn't see before moving back to wrap his arms around your waist.

“Can I read to you?” you nodded, noticing the book he had clasped in his hands, a well-worn copy you'd seen him read regularly, always seeming to be completely absorbed in it. You could feel him smile, knowing he loved nothing more than to speak about what he was reading with anyone who stood still long enough.

“The human race has travelled a long way, since those remote ages when men fashioned their rude implements…” you were only half listening to him, watching how the flames licked up the logs on the fire and revelled in the comfort of his arms. If you could sit here, blissfully warm in the arms of this man you could die in peace.

“…of flint and lived on the precarious spoils of hunting, leaving to their children for their only heritage…” Leaning your head, you rested it on his chest, letting it rise and fall in time with his breathing.

“…a shelter beneath the rocks, some poor utensils—and Nature, vast, unknown, and terrific, with whom they had to fight for their wretched existence.” Dutch paused for a moment, glancing down at you now, curled up with your head on his chest. As much as you were enjoying listening to him read, you were exhausted, wanting nothing more than to curl up and fall asleep here.

“Come on my dear,” Carefully, Dutch moved from behind you, scooping you up and transferring you from the warm spot on the fire to the comparatively soft bed. His hands carefully pulled you dress you'd neglected to remove earlier, his movements soft, as though you could be broken if he pulled too hard. You laughed a little as he fumbled with one of the clasps on your boot, and you leant down to undo it with ease, making him huff a little.

Once you were rid of your outerwear, you lay down, pulling some of the furs over you as you watched Dutch remove the many layers of shirts and expensive vests in exchange for a red union shirt. While he was undressing, he would carefully hang his clothes on a singular hanger, ensuring they would not get a crease in. Anything he could not hang, such as his treasured pocket watch and pipe, would sit on one of the crates beside the bed.

Dutch crawled under the covers with you, pulling you close so he could nestle his face in the crook of your neck, your back pressed to his chest. His breaths ghosted over the kisses he'd placed earlier, you could feel his eyelashes fluttering on your neck, sending shivers down your back. You shuffled to get comfortable, finding your eyes were beginning to drift shut. Quietly, behind you, Dutch's breathing was deeper, occasionally letting out a quiet snore as you drifted to sleep.

Morning light pierced its way into the tent, and you found yourself being shaken awake by Dutch. Not wanting to get up, you buried your face further into the bed, knowing you had to leave soon or you'd be caught out. Camp was stirring, Pearson could be heard tending to the fire and clanking bowls together for some breakfast; soon enough the other girls would be up, and then you'd have no reason for your absence.

“Come on dear,” Dutch was handing you clothes which you pulled on haphazardly, not caring if you looked presentable in them. He did your boots up as you pulled on your thick coat, you could say you'd been on a walk. As he stood up, he placed a kiss on your lips, pulling you to him before holding the opening to the tent, allowing you to leave. Quickly, you snuck out the tent, hurrying to the wagon, praying the others had not woken up yet and you could sneak into bed unnoticed - usually you wouldn't have stayed so long with Dutch, leaving in the early hours of the morning instead of at breakfast time.

Your prayers were not answered however, Karen was sat, propped against the wheel of the wagon, plaiting some grass. The other girls were still fast asleep, but you knew you'd have to lie to her. As you approached, she looked up, cocking an eyebrow at your dishevelled appearance and overnight disappearance.

“I went for a walk?” you whispered, careful not to wake anyone as you neared Karen, but she shook her head, before indicating you to follow her to the water's edge. You didn't have much choice in the matter, so you followed, thanking god that the ground was dry enough to walk on now.

“Where were you, if someone found out- they think there's a rat already-” Karen hissed, as you both looked out over the lake, glad for your warm coat as the cool morning breeze swept off the lake.

“Do you want my coat?” you offered, pulling it off your shoulders and handing it to her, which she accepted, pulling it around her. You stood there in silence for a little while, you could tell Karen was thinking, trying to put the pieces together. Before either of you could speak, you heard Micah yelling behind you,

“I just went for a walk, as I said,”

“I heard you leave last night, that's one long walk,” you threw her a glare at this, she'd caught you out, you didn't have an excuse for this. Karen looked pleased with herself, although she was shivering with cold - she was still wearing just a thin slip dress.

“Come on! Breakfast ain't gonna make itself is it ladies?” you could hear his footsteps approaching, ready to say something about Karen or you again. Both of you turned at the same time, watching as he sauntered down towards you; however, his approach was halted when he caught a glimpse of you. Not knowing what he was looking at, you checked your hair and dress, sure you didn't look amazing, but you weren't flashing anyone.

“Well, what have we here?” Micah ignored his favourite target, Karen, in favour of approaching you, almost standing on your toes he was so close. You could smell the stench of last night's alcohol on his breath, and his moustache had the remnants of last night's stew on it still, something you'd never wished to discover. His fingers ghosted over your neck before you realized what had caught his interest; the dress you were wearing was low cut, exposing the purpling bruises over your neck from yesterday.

“Who gave you these sweetheart?” he asked, his voice dripping in false sweetness, his hands roaming from the edge of your neck to the top of your dress. “Didn't realise you were quite this much of a whore?” you whispered this last word, his spit hitting the side of your face. Your heart was pounding, wanting nothing more than to smack the smirk off his face, but knowing if you did so he was stronger than you were.

Over his shoulder, Karen was averting her eyes, glad not to be the target of his merciless comments. By now, Micah was hissing about how much you charged in your ear, and you took a step back from him, feeling the water flood into your boots in an attempt to get away from him.

“Mister Bell,” a very familiar voice called loudly across camp, shocking the both of you and making him step back from you rapidly. Dutch was standing at the opening of his tent, his face dark with thunder at Micah, anger etched in every line. This was the first time you'd seen Micah listen to something someone said, as he backed away from you, not without a parting comment,

“Well, I guess we know who the lucky guy is then?” You swore under your breath at him, pulling at your dress as he walked away, towards Dutch's tent. Breathing deeply, your heart rate slowed, now that Micah was far from you and you could move from the water, feeling your boots squelch with each step they made. After Dutch's yelling, the whole camp was up, most of them unequivocally staring at you on the shoreline. You could feel your face heating up, knowing they could all see the bruises as well.

Karen offered your coat back to you, and you pulled it on, hiding your neck from inquisitive eyes as you both returned to the main camp. As you passed people, there were hushed whispers, rumours about where the bruises came from. Your face was hot, so you hid behind the wagon, changing into a high necked dress and attempting to silence the tears of shame that ran down your face.

A/N: This is the longest single chapter I’ve written (it’s not much at 3.3k, but I like shorter ones?), and this took a while. Also sorry about the Micah slander at the end, I’m writing a Micah fluff in some sort of redemption for that XD.

(ik I did not tag this as fem!reader at the start - it's been changed!)

#dutch van der linde #dutch x reader #dutch van der linde x reader #dutch van der linde x fem!reader #red dead redemption imagine #red dead redemption 2 #red dead #micah bell #sadie adler #bill williamson #dutch van der linde/reader #dutch van der linde fluff #dutch van der linde x you #javier escuella #arthur morgan #pearson #hosea mathews #karen rdr2 #rdr2 #susan grimshaw

[winterscaptain]

the pleasures of the elder.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: the people have spoken, and they all love sean hotchner. this fits after mean it in the joyful future universe, but no context is actually required to enjoy a little bit of sibling rivalry. title comes from jane austen’s quote: “the younger brother must help to pay for the pleasures of the elder.” 

words: 3k warnings: language, alcohol use, sex mention, jealous!aaron, perceptive!sean

summary: when he arrives for an impromptu visit, sean knows his brother too well to give him any moment’s peace - especially when it comes to you. 

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed

A man, both very handsome and vaguely familiar, pushes through the glass doors and walks across the bullpen - a visitor's badge pinned proudly to his leather jacket. You try to place him, but come up short. 

You’re alone, for the time being. Almost everyone is off running some kind of last-minute errand around the federal building - making copies, finishing paperwork, or in a meeting (in Hotch’s case). It’s the last dregs of the day, the sun setting over the river. 

The man stops in front of your desk. “Hi. Are you part of the BAU, or am in the wrong place?” His eyes are bright, roaming over your face with a kind of curious, warm, knowing air. 

You smile at him, and before you can answer -

“Sean!” JJ’s fond tone carries across the bullpen, and she arrives with an armful of cases. 

Sean? 

Oh my god. 

Sean Hotchner. 

“Hey, JJ, right?”

She laughs, sounding a little younger than she is. You can’t blame her. Sean is exceedingly handsome in an entirely different direction than his older brother. And if your memory serves correctly, just a year older than you. “Yeah, that’s right. Good to see you.” He offers her a hand, and she shifts her files to take it. His handshake is firm, and lasts just a moment too long. 

You kick back in your chair, almost inviting him to lean against your desk. “Hotch is in a meeting, if you’re looking for him. He should be out in,” you check your watch, “about five minutes.”

Sean turns back to you, his shockingly blue eyes meeting yours. “Thanks.” He smiles at you again, and you’d be lying if you said your heart was doing normal things in your chest. “Sean Hotchner. I’m Aaron’s - sorry, Hotch’s - little brother.”

Those eyes are dangerous. 

Oh, poor Aaron. 

You shake his hand and introduce yourself. “Pleasure’s all mine, I’m sure.” 

Just as you suspected moments ago, he takes the initiative and leans against your desk. JJ hovers nearby, a little smile on her face. You watch as she sends a quick text, and puts her phone back on her belt. 

Gotta tell the girls...

“So,” he starts, brisk and businesslike, “you definitely weren’t here during my last visit. What’s your story?”

“Well, if you must know -“

“I must.” He flashes you another smile, and you can only imagine all the trouble he caused growing up. Or, rather, you can imagine all the trouble he would have caused if his brother wasn’t around to bail him out. Five years ago, you would have been drawn into his pretty eyes and wide smile. Now, you can only see a boyish, overt, almost-inelegant version of the understated warmth you love in Aaron. 

You give him a quick rundown of your history: hometown, alma mater, etc. “- I was an academy grad in 2007, and I’ve been here ever since.”

“Ah, so not a newbie anymore. And you’ve worked with my brother the whole time?” He almost looks impressed. His glance down to your ringless left hand doesn’t escape your notice.

Oh Sean, if only you knew. 

You nod. “Yeah, I’ve worked under Hotch for five years now.” 

And I’ve worked over him for about three months. Also under him, around him, on the couch, in the kitchen, etc.

Shut up. 

C’mon. It’s funny.

A low whistle leaves him as you bite back a smile. “Damn. I’m so sorry. He’s a real hardass.”

You lean in conspiratorially, and you’re almost cheek-to-cheek as he leans down to listen. “You know, that’s what I hear, but -” 

Penelope bursts through the doors and calls your name, carrying an armful of papers that have absolutely nothing to do with the work going on upstairs. Emily is close behind her, an amused grin on her face. 

Sean leans back so you can finally see her. “Yeah?”

“I have these for - Oh, hi Sean!” She says it like she hasn’t already decided her primary objective is to get his attention. 

“Hey!” He looks over at her, one finger up to stop her in her tracks. “Wait, don’t tell me. Garcia, right?”

“Penelope,” JJ supplies helpfully. 

“That’s right. It’s good to see you again.” He offers her his hand, and she takes it. You’re almost certain he winks at her, and she smiles through the blush rising on her cheeks. 

He really is a heartbreaker, huh?

Aaron must have had his work cut out for him.

Derek rounds the corner and immediately rolls his eyes at the scene before him. Sean has his body angled toward you (in your chair, completely open, with your chin in your hand) while he shakes Penelope’s hand. JJ pretends to do work off at her desk behind yours, but she’s completely tuned into the conversation. Emily’s sitting on her own desk off to the side, watching the whole thing with a certain degree of good humor. 

“Sean, good to see you, man.” Derek walks over and takes Penelope under his arm. It’s almost possessive, and you almost laugh. 

Sean releases Penelope’s hand and takes Derek’s. “Hey, Morgan. How’ve you been?”

Their bro-to-bro catch-up fades into the background as you see Hotch appear on the breezeway by his office. You look up at him before pointedly glancing at Sean beside you. He sighs, then calls, “Sean.”

The man in question turns, and a smile breaks out over his face when he sees his brother. There’s something cocky about it, and you don’t miss the way his body language remains keyed into you as he speaks. “That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”

Aaron takes another deep breath and walks down the stairs. “What are you doing here?”

“Can’t I just come see my big brother at work?”

Aaron’s eyebrow is dubious at best. “What do you need?”

Sean laughs, and it reminds you enough of Aaron’s that it draws a wide smile from you. You find yourself looking fondly up at Sean, seeing more of the resemblance now that they’re beside each other. Aaron’s jaw flexes. You notice. 

Oh, see, now this is fun. 

“I was just in town and figured I’d stop by to see if you were here or out on a case.” Sean glances down at you with another charming smile before looking back at his brother. “I guess I got lucky.” 

He’s just full of those smiles, isn’t he?

JJ jumps in. “We’re actually planning on going out to drinks once we wrap up in a couple of minutes. You’re more than welcome to come.”

While JJ pulls attention elsewhere, you glance up at Hotch and throw him a wink. Hey. Relax. 

His jaw relaxes just a touch, and his lips twitch. As usual, he covers it by crossing his arms over his chest. Don’t be a shit. 

You wet your lips and purse them a little. Nice try. 

He shifts, just a little, raising an eyebrow. You’re really gonna go there?”

Watch this. You toss him a quick smile. “That would be great!” You brush Sean’s sleeve as you unnecessarily reach over him for Penelope. “What do you think, Pen?”

“Oh, we’d love that!” Penelope takes your hand, squeezes it, and looks up at Derek. “Wouldn’t we?”

Derek nods. “We’d love to have you, man. It’ll be good to hear what you’ve been up to in New York.” 

Aaron does his best to suppress his eye roll. You’re lucky he loves you, childish antics and all. 

+++

When you split up into your respective cars, Sean elects to ride with you over his brother. You and Hotch play the role of designated drivers. You’ve fallen into the routine, finding it's much easier to sneak around your coworkers as they get more and more inebriated through the evening. 

Aaron doesn’t look too happy with the ride arrangements, but he lets it slide. Dave and Emily ride with him, while you have Derek, Penelope, and JJ in the car with you and Sean. 

It’s not that he doesn’t trust you. He doesn’t trust Sean. 

Logically, he doesn’t have anything to worry about. He woke up this morning to your patient, adoring eyes and your hands playing with his hair. You ate breakfast together (read: sat in his lap with a bowl of cereal while he read his emails), were (almost) late due to your showering arrangement, and only parted after a (very) good kiss in the driveway. 

Still though, he can’t quite shake the insecurities he always felt with his brother. Thirteen years his junior, Sean always seemed to excel in every social pursuit. Music, girls, friends - he was able to settle into things Aaron always struggled with. It was stupid. Aaron was well into his thirties when Sean was in undergrad, but that prickle of envy never seemed to fade. 

Their mother never put the pressure on Sean the way she did on Aaron, and in some ways it made sense. He was a teenager when their father passed, and Sean was hardly a child. More responsibility, more weight, less credit. 

Aaron might be his mom’s pride and joy, even to this day, but Sean will always be her baby. 

Thus, watching Sean easily weasel his way into one of your smiles wore on almost thirty years of tension. 

“Hey, what’s going on with you?” Emily asks, tapping Hotch’s shoulder with gentle fingers. Upon making contact, she snorts. “Wow, you’re really tense.” 

Hotch shakes his head and shrugs her off. “I’m alright.” 

It’s Dave’s turn to snort. “No you’re not. You’ve been scowling since Sean showed up.”

“He just has that effect on me. Always has.” 

“C’mon, Aaron.” Dave says. Aaron’s grip on the wheel tightens, but he doesn’t say anything. “He’s just a kid.” 

With a flat deadpan, Aaron replies, “He’s thirty.” 

Emily leans forward on the center console, inserting herself into the conversation. “Hotch, you don’t have anything to worry about. Sean doesn’t have anything on you.” She bumps his shoulder with hers. 

He sighs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Emily and Dave share a look and a little smile. 

+++

You hop out of the car, swinging your keys in your hand. Hotch is a couple of spots down from you in the parking lot, and your little groups meet up somewhere in the middle. Falling back, you let Derek and Emily lead the way. When they’re all in front of you, Sean included, you press your shoulder to Aaron’s for just a moment. 

“Are you going to be childish?” he says, quietly. 

You suppress a smile. “You’re fun when you’re jealous.” 

“I’m not jealous.” 

“Alright.” Your hand snags his for just a moment, before you jog forward to catch up to the rest of the group. 

“There you are!” Sean’s voice rings out, and you let him tuck you under his arm. You wrap an arm around Sean’s waist and chance a look back to grin at Aaron. 

Gotcha, babe. 

Aaron rolls his eyes so loudly you can see it from twenty feet away. Ridiculous. 

I love you. 

I know. 

+++

You’ve all managed to secure a table. While not incredibly crowded, there are plenty of people around. You planted yourself next to Aaron, and Sean planted himself next to you. The music is just loud enough to encourage dancing without requiring a shout to communicate. 

Derek downed his first drink and led Penelope on the floor within ten minutes of your arrival. 

The round table is crowded, and your pinkie locked in Aaron’s belt loop goes unnoticed. He stretches his arm out behind you to clap Sean’s shoulder, and his fingers quickly trace across your shoulders as he pulls it back. 

“So what have you been up to, Sean?”

“Oh, you know. This and that.” He pulls from the drink in front of him and you’re almost certain it’s just a Coke. 

Sober? Getting there? 

Remind me to get the skinny on that later. 

10-4.

Aaron chuckles darkly. “You’re gonna have to do better than that.” 

Sean shrugs, and leans back, checking out the dance floor. You pull your pinkie from Aaron and put both of your hands on the table. Emily’s looking a little too watchful tonight, and you’d hate to lose your bet. 

Your money is on making it more than six months without alerting the team you’ve been sleeping together. Aaron, always of little faith, took the alternative. 

“Dance with me?” Sean offers you a hand, and you take it. Before you get too far, you lean across Aaron to take another sip of your drink. When you lose your balance (on purpose), Aaron steadies you with a hand around your waist, making sure you’re settled on your feet before you jet off with Sean. 

“Thanks, Hotch!”

He takes a long pull from his beer - his only drink for the evening. Hotch. Gimme a break. 

“Looks like they’re hitting it off great,” JJ says with a laugh. “That works out. I mean, Sean’s about our age, right?”

Don’t remind me. 

“Yep. Turned thirty last month.” Aaron does his best to not sound too bitter. 

JJ smirks at Emily, who turns to smirk at Dave. They don’t know what they don’t know, but they certainly know enough to keep an eye on Aaron for the rest of the evening. 

“That’s in-flight entertainment, baby.” Emily whispers to JJ. “I can’t wait to tell Will. He’s going to die laughing.” 

JJ lets out a peal of laughter. “Absolutely.”

Out on the floor, you’re having way too much fun, sandwiched between Derek and Sean. You pull Penelope between you and Derek, and loop an arm over Sean’s shoulders. 

“So,” he says, his lips close to your ear and his voice barely audible over the music, “how long have you been sleeping with my brother?”

You freeze for just a moment, but it’s a moment too long to recover. “What?”

“Oh, come on. Question in response to a question? That’s like profiling 101.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sean rolls his eyes. “He’s halfway in love with you, if not completely fucked, in case he’s failed to tell you.” He spins you out, and back in so your back is against his chest. 

“We’ve got that covered, yeah.” You twist in his arms. “You gonna do anything about it?”

He shrugs. “I dunno. I think it’s pretty funny to get him all worked up, though, don’t you think?” Another bright smile crosses his face and his blue eyes seem to glow in the dim light. 

“Oh, Sean. I think we’re going to get along just fine.” You laugh and reach for him again, but a finger appears in your belt loop. Derek pulls you back toward him by the hip. He’s stupid strong, and you can only tumble back into him with another laugh. 

You’re sweaty, sober, and having way too much fun.  

“Careful, kid. I think Hotchner has a crush.” Derek’s playful jab is warm against your ear as you fall in with him, cheek-to-cheek. 

“What can I say?” You ask. “I’m irresistible.” 

Derek throws you under his arm in a spin and you land back at his chest with the wind knocked out of you. “He’s gotta get in line though.”

“Oh?”

“I think his big brother’s gonna give him a run for his money?” 

That’s enough for you. “Gimme a break, Morgan.” With a laugh, you shove at Derek’s chest and leave the floor. Returning to the table, you sidle up to Aaron again. “Hey, Hotch. Having fun?”

He gives you a weak glare out of the corner of his eye and takes a sip of his beer. “A blast.” 

“Couple more hours, if that, then we’ll be home.” You drop your voice, almost whispering into your glass as you take another sip.

Aaron nods. “Can’t come soon enough.” 

The rest of the team gets more and more sloshed as the evening progresses, and you can get away with a lot more. That said, Sean’s eyes are playful, sober, and more than a little amused. 

“What did my brother say to you?” Hotch murmurs, under his breath. The girls went to the bathroom (and to call Spencer a cab home) while Derek and Sean posted up at the bar, itching for an excuse to give some asshole the what-for. 

You bump his shoulder. “Just that you’re half in love with me, if not already completely fucked.” 

He heaves a sigh. “Can’t catch a break.” You link your pinkie through his belt loop again. “He’s right, though.” 

“How’s that?” You look up at him and you know he can see how much you love him. 

“I’m completely fucked.” 

If any of your team members wonder what’s so fucking funny, they don’t ask. It’s just good to see Hotch smiling again. 

+++

At the end of the night, you drop Sean back off at the hotel on your way home. He’s the last in your car, so he can speak his mind with a certain degree of freedom. You idle in front of the building for a moment, just enjoying the silence.

“Hey.” 

You look over at him. “Yeah?”

“You’d make a great in-law. Just wanted you to know that I’m here for it.” He offers you a hand. You shake it and it almost feels like you’re making some kind of gentleman’s agreement. “Take care of him. He needs it.” 

“Oh, don't worry. I know.”

The smile you share is that of a pair of co-conspirators, of siblings, of friends. 

We’ll do just fine, you and I. 

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @wandaswitxh @hurricanejjareau @fics-ilike @ange-must-die @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts  @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @good-heavens-chris-evans @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @gublergirls @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @hotchsflower @micaiahmoonheart @ogmilkis @thatreallyis-americas-ass @marvels-agents100 @newtslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @joemazzello-imagines @pinkdiamond1016 @sebbybaby0 @lilsiswinchester @pan-pride-12 @hotchlinebling @lee-rin-ah @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @sageellsworth05 @emmice9 @nohalohoseok @giveusbackourbucky @writerxinthedark @mrshotchnerrossimulder21 @bauslut @yourlovelynewsbian @sparklingkeylimepie @aili28 @kingandrear @reader4027 @spnobsessedmemes @rogers-mouth @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @hotchnersgoddess @buckybau @phoenixfyre374 @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandi-ass-prentiss @songbird400 @dontkissthewriter @ellyhotchner @a-dorky-book-keeper @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @ahopelessromantic @violentvulgarvolatile @andreasworlsboring101 @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @bwbatta @roses-and-grasses @lcvischmitt @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @mandylove1000 @garcia-reid-lovechild  @cevanswhre @colbyskoalas  @qvid-pro-qvo @joanofarkansass @jeor @spencers-hoodrat 

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #hotch #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #tali writes fanfiction #tali talks cm #sean hotchner #a joyful future #a joyful future fanfic

[gallickingun]

legacy || dragon prince!kirishima

SUMMARY: After an arranged marriage to the Prince of Dragons, Kirishima Eijirou, you decide you do not want to live your life in a loveless relationship, so you attempt to get to know him. After some time, you realize that he was keeping something very important from you. How are you supposed to help him if he won’t come clean?

PAIRING: Dragon Prince!Kirishima x Princess!Reader RATINGS: M/E+ WARNINGS: language, smut, breeding kink (so much breeding), etc. WORD COUNT: 13.5k+

LINKS: ao3 | masterlist | mobile | writing tag

Author’s Note: This is a prompt fill for THESE prompts that I just couldn’t chill out with. I didn’t want this to get confused with @makoodles​ Dragon Dick Kiri! This Kirishima has normal anatomy 👀 but go give her’s a read as well, it’s so frickin’ good. 

༶•┈⛧ ┈♛ ♛ ┈⛧┈•༶

An arranged marriage to the Prince of Dragons wasn’t how you saw the start of the rest of your life going.

You expected to have more time before you would be called to responsibility, to the throne, to your people. You wanted to live your life, to frolic through the meadows and taste the sweet mead drinks the cooks are always going on about. You wanted to be free.

You did not want to find yourself forced into a white dress, a bunch of flowers in your hand, as you recite the sacred betrothal vows to a man you’ve never met before.

His name is Kirishima Eijirou.

At least he’s handsome.

And beyond his good looks, Kirishima has a charming air about him as well. He is kind to all the servants and never asks for their help unless it’s entirely required. He even goes so far as to request separate bedrooms for the two of you, knowing exactly what might be expected of you if you were to sleep together.

When you approached him about it, he bowed his head, “I know that you did not enter this matrimony by choice, milady. I would hate to force you into anything you did not ask for.”

You would be lying if you denied that your heart skipped a beat.

Kirishima makes himself useful around the castle, tending to the gardens with the other landscapers, using his enhanced strength and hard, scaly skin to chop down trees and uproot stumps. He even brings the ladies in the kitchen spices from other parts of the kingdom and animals that the other hunters had not been able to slay.

His fierce instincts and amazing strength have made him quite the match for the kingdom; almost as if he were exactly what you needed. The citizens have never been more excited for a new king to rise, practically salivating as Kirishima passes through the town on his daily walks. You watch on from your tower window, leaning over the edge of the cobblestone to squint as you make out his bulky frame mounting a horse and exiting the castle gates.

Many a night passes and you feel uneasy at the distance between you. He is your husband, and yet you are sure that you have not had a conversation lasting more than a few syllables with him. You are sure that even the commoners know him better than you do.

Everyone in the kingdom adores Kirishima, although they could care less for the mouthy knight he’s brought along with him. A blonde, stout man you’ve come to know as Bakugou Katsuki. He is Kirishima’s protector and right-hand, following him around like a shadow, throwing his opinions and criticisms out with little care to the sensitive ears they may fall upon.

“Bakugou?” you ask one afternoon, crossing your arms as you stand beside him, Kirishima helping to dig trenches using his scaled, hardened hands. You tilt your head to consider the blonde, your irises finding a crimson color, harsh and unbending, much unlike your betrothed’s warm gaze, “Does Kirishima care for me?”

His throat bobs and a strangled sound comes from it, “Excuse me?”

“Kirishima keeps his distance from me,” you muse, licking your lips as you turn from him to focus on the man you find yourself fascinated with even more as each day passes. “I just want to know if he is uncomfortable around me.”

“That’s one word for it.”

You unceremoniously smack his arm, “Stop being belligerent and answer me!”

“Bloody hell,” Bakugou takes a step away from you, “yes, Kirishima is uncomfortable around you, but not for the reason you think, wench.”

Your narrowed eyes spur him to speak again, “He thinks fondly of you, if that’s what you wish to know. Eijirou just has a strange way of showing it. Now, can we please stop talking about this emotional shit?”

There is no answer from your lips, only the absence of your presence at his side. Bakugou huffs out a relieved sigh and watches as you hitch your skirt up and run towards his friend and ruler. He shakes his head when you stumble into Kirishima’s arms, rolling his eyes as he begins his afternoon patrol of the grounds.

“Whoa,” the prince’s arms are sturdy as he catches you before you can face plant into the trench he’s dug, “are you okay?”

Your body relishes in the warmth he provides, fingers clinging onto his shoulders, feeling the ridges of the hard, corded muscle beneath you, “Y-Yes, I am fine! I need to ask you something, though.”

“Yes, Princess?” Kirishima, ever the gentleman, holds you steady, guiding you back to some sense of normalcy. He is fighting a smile at your bedraggled appearance, the corners of his lips twitching as he looks down his nose at you, the black metal guard around his face making his features even more sharp.

The core of you churns with molten lava at the sight of his handsome features, the tendrils of smoke from the sloshing heat curling up your throat until it forces your mouth open, “W-Would you like to go for a picnic?”

Kirishima has never looked more surprised and amused. His hand absentmindedly rubs over your elbow and bicep, sending small jolts of electricity through to your bones until you can feel them rattling around in the cage of your body. He stutters when he speaks, “A-A picnic? As in, eating together? A-Alone?”

“Yes,” you flush, your cheeks burning brightly at the confession, “I think we’ve earned a little time away, don’t you think?”

His face goes the same color as his hair, his pink tongue passing over his lower lip as he considers you, shifting uncomfortably from foot-to-foot as he chooses his words wisely, “Princess, you don’t have to humor me. I know my place.”

“Your place is with me,” you bolster your spine so you can look him in the eyes, barely distracted by the small scales that cover his temples and jawline. “And I want to know my husband. Is that a crime? Shall you have me thrown in the dungeon?”

The black pupils in the center of his orbs dilate, his shoulders shifting as he considers your words and your tone. Kirishima shakes his head after he’s processed what you’re saying, taking a step closer so your chest almost brushes his when you take heaving breaths, “No, I think it sounds like a wonderful idea. How does veal and fruit sound?”

“Like heaven.”

It is not much later in the afternoon when Kirishima stops by the stables to collect you, a woven wicker basket cradled in one of his hands, full to the brim with a plethora of things hidden under the lid. He packs the basket and a few blankets onto the backside of the horse that he brought with him when he merged his belongings with yours. He pats the horse’s backside, “All right, Red. Be nice. This is the princess you’re carrying.”

You laugh, covering your mouth with your palm as you step forward. Your free hand brushes over Red’s snout and down her mane, “And that’s the prince, you know. Precious cargo.”

“I’ll be fine, I’ve got my thick skin,” he shrugs, reaching out a hand for you to take, “plus Red knows I’m the one with the sugar cubes, so she’ll be sweet on me.”

Your palm rests in his as you stride towards him, the proximity of your bodies now intoxicating as his natural heat radiates between the two of you. The base of your throat bobs as emotion gathers in your esophagus, cutting off your breathing. Your eyes flutter somewhere between open and closed when you try to look at him directly, unable to focus when he’s so close to you.

Kirishima is no small man, your eye-level meeting his collarbones. His hands dwarf yours easily, his stout body thick with muscle and sinew, dense bones holding him together. You suppose it’s thanks to his animalistic ancestry.

Each kingdom descended from some form of ancient animal, and Kirishima’s was the dragons. And so, he inherited the qualities of that very beast, starting with his intense body heat and the scales that litter his skin in small patches. They are black in color at a first glance, but when he shifts beneath the sunbeams, you notice they have a red iridescence to them. You are thankful to find that he has no tail or snout, saving those features for a much more human-looking set.

Kirishima rests his palms on your hips, almost able to wrap his digits completely around the circumference of your waist as he hoists you onto his horse. His quaking digits roam down the thick of your thigh, thumbs brushing up against the skin to treasure it. You have to stop yourself from keening into his touch, seeming desperate, by white knuckling your hands around the saddle.

He clambers up after you, slinging one leg before propping himself up to rest behind you. Leaning forward, he grabs the reigns, his chest pressing firmly into your back. You force yourself to regulate your breathing, the scent and feel of him making your head dizzy. Kirishima scoots forward and the curve of his crotch is pressing into your spine as he spurs Red forward with a gentle slap of the reigns.

You squeal, your hands instinctively reaching out to wrap around his forearms, the tips of your fingers dragging over the dark scales he sports at the junctures of his arms. His muscles twitch under your touch and your breath hitches. The bottom of his chin is hovering just above your shoulder, his cheek threatening your personal space while his chest falls flush with your back, “You okay?”

“Y-Yeah, sorry,” you manage an awkward laugh, blinking to clear your vision. “Sorry, I just wasn’t ready.”

Kirishima holds the reigns in one hand, using the other to wrap around your waist, effectively silencing you as your heart beats heavy in your chest, “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

It is easy to melt back into him, a shuddering breath making your shoulders shake. You rest your hands over the top of his thick arm, thumbs finding his veins and bones to trace while you wait for your end destination to come in sight. You avoid paying too close attention to the ebony scales that glimmer in the afternoon sun, shifting from black to red when you look acutely.

The sun is setting when he finally stops Red at the edge of a lake, golden glow shining from the surface of the water and making it difficult to see. Kirishima helps you down before grabbing the picnic basket and tying Red up around the trunk of a tree. In the meantime, you work at setting out the blanket on the ground, tugging out the corners so it’s fully splayed open.

Conversation flows easy for the two of you as you lay out on the ground, face turned toward the sun as is sinks lower in the afternoon sky. You close your eyes and drink in the sunbeams, your hands tucked behind your head. Kirishima is waving his hands around, holding grapes between one set of fingers and a slice of bread in the other.

You laugh, a full-bellied giggle that you have not felt in what seems like years. When the laughter settles, you turn your head to see Kirishima already looking down at you, a soft but sad expression tugging on his features. You tilt your head, blinking a few times before asking him, “What is on your mind?”

“Why are you doing this?” he blurts unabashedly.

The inside of your mouth turns to ash, as if you’ve licked the inside of the oven and can’t get the taste off of your tongue. You swallow the growing lump in your throat and reach a hand up to rub at your face as nerves start to eat away at your belly.

“Can a princess not have a picnic with her husband?” Your voice has risen an octave and it’s obvious he notices because he leans in further, as if silently asking you to further explain. You huff, rolling your eyes, “I just want to get to know you, Kirishima. If we’re to be wed for the rest of our lives, don’t you think we should learn a little about one another?!”

Kirishima sits up straighter, his eyes unable to find a part of you to focus on as his gaze wanders. You turn on your side, reaching out to press your palm to his thigh, but he halts you with his warm touch and saddened words, “I assumed you would have nothing to do with me. Arranged marriages aren’t usually filled with companionship.”

You lean forward, your mouth against his knuckles as you exhale, “I think we’d like each other if we had the chance, arranged marriage or not.”

A silence hangs in the air, Kirishima’s hand heavy beneath yours. You feel the muscles in his leg twitch as your thumb brushes down over his shin. It’s like you are waiting sparks to ignite in midair and take the both of you down, the imminent danger of his response sending a burning chill down your spine. You fear you may have misjudged him, or perhaps his companion misspoke with the intent to turn the two of you against one another.

“Kirishima,” you try again, sitting up on your knees so you can look him in the eyes much easier, “listen, I-”

His thumb against your lower lip gives you pause, your eyes crossing as you try to look down at the offending digit. Kirishima looks up at you, a glimmer in his vermilion irises, “I want you to call me Eijirou.”

Your heart stops beating within your chest at the admission of his given name. You had heard Bakugou say it, and of course when you learned who you would be marrying, you were informed of the nomenclature. However, you never assumed that you would be gifted the privilege to use it so soon.

“Eijirou,” you test it out on your tongue, rolling the name around like honey, “I like that.”

A smile tugs on the corners of his lips and you see the faintest brush of dimples. You lean your body forward to press a kiss to his cheek, just barely brushing the corner of his mouth, “Nice to meet you, Eijirou. I’m your wife.”

He chuckles, reaching out to shake your hand, “Pleased to make your acquaintance. How do you do?”

“I’d be doing much better with some berries between my teeth,” you lean back, brushing your thumb over the back of his palm, “but I’m doing just fine, now that I’ve got you.”

The smile on Kirishima’s face puts the sunshine to shame.

༶•┈⛧┈♛ ♛┈⛧┈┈•༶

It had been months since that picnic by the lake, and you and Kirishima had grown rather close. He chases your lips behind closed doors and your hands are insatiable as they roam his body beneath his tunic. You know the taste of his skin by heart, and he knows the innermost parts of you better than you do.

So him pulling away now has you perplexed.

You pace back and forth in front of his private chambers, the place where he is allowed to go when he needs to contemplate war plans and farming plots and taxation of the citizens. However, he has been holed up behind the thick wooden door for six days straight, and you know that something is wrong.

Bakugou is posted up in front of the door, a mess of limbs as he whittles away at a slab of wood, working on turning it into something much more intricate. His head raises so he can roll his eyes at your unease, “Relax, Princess. He’ll be out of there in another week or two.”

“What does that even mean?!” you snap, your eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. You feel yourself breaking from the inside out – you thought you had made so much progress, that maybe you and Kirishima were really moving forward, learning how to co-habitate and rule together. Your voice is crazed and you throw your palms face-up towards the knight, “Weeks? This is absurd!”

You narrow your eyes at the door like it has wronged you, keeping you from your lover, and you are barreling towards it before Bakugou can stop you.  

“Eijirou!”

Bursting through the door, you’re surprised to find that he is not sitting at his desk, pouring over world maps and charts. Rather, he’s not anywhere to be seen at all. You shut and lock the door behind you just as Bakugou has gotten to his feet, narrowing your eyes at him as it clicks shut.

You hear a whimpering sound off in the distance, and you follow it.

There is a secluded area you know is hidden behind the bookshelf – a secret room built by your father so he can escape even the already secretive confines of his study. You pull the familiar lever at the base of the bookcase and the entire structure begins to shudder as the door is opened. A familiar head of red hair is lowered, his chin to his chest as sobs rack his body, broad shoulders shaking as he sniffles.

“Eiji?” your voice is quiet, afraid to disrupt the moment. He is bare at the torso, his hands cradled in front of him, but you can only make out the muscled expanse of his back, “Eijirou, why are you-”

“I-I didn’t want you in here,” he mumbles through labored breaths. When he turns his head you can make out the glistening tears running down his face, “Y-You smell so strongly and I don’t know if I can control myself.”

“Excuse you?” Your voice is more of a bark than a question, stepping further into the small space so you’re stood beside him, “I smell? You could have just told me, for Christ’s sakes, Eiji-holy shit.”

Your eyes are drawn to the center of his hips, where he’s currently cradling his cock between his hands. The head of it is engorged and blushed, leaking pearlescent fluid that leaks down the shaft, coating one of the more prominent veins on the underside. Your throat bobs at the sight of him, taking in his girth with your own two eyes, trying to rationalize why you’d never seen his lower body without clothing until just now.

“I-I’m sorry, listen, it’s just…” Kirishima is in tears, his voice strained as he stands to his feet, “I-I’m in a fucking rut and it’s horrible and you shouldn’t have to witness it, let alone be a part of it. I wanted to wait it out in here so I could stay away from you.”

You step closer to him, your hands hovering in midair as you’re not sure which part of him to grab for first. Your entire anatomy is on fire at the visual of his thick cock leaking pre and throbbing with the need to spill his seed. The base of him leads way to a set of weighty balls, and you can only imagine the sheer amount of come that he has stored up in them.

“Stay away from me? Eiji,” you whisper, reaching out to touch his shoulder. He recoils, another sniffle as he turns his head, but you persist regardless, “Am I not your wife? Is this not my job?”

He stands to his feet, his trousers taut against his thighs as he tries to pull them back up his legs, “Exactly! This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you! It’s not a job, Princess, nothing in this realm should ever feel like a job. It should be fun, and I can promise you this won’t be fun for you.”

“Rut?” you redirect the conversation, coming to stand in front of him with your hand on his wrist to keep him from pulling his pants back over his cock. “Wh-Tell me what that means, exactly?”

Kirishima inhales deeply, his chest expanding, and then reaches down to take his dick in his hand, stroking it once to show you the length of it, “It’s whatever part of me is intertwined with dragon, I have these annual cycles where I’m drawn to my-fuck, this is so strange to say out loud-my mate.”

You want to reach down to hold his throbbing length in your hands but the look in his eyes says that he isn’t done. Kirishima gulps as he looks across at you, glittering ruby eyes filled to the brim with emotion, “It’s a mating cycle, outside of that I’m not really sure. I go into a rut for a couple of weeks each year, ever since I went through the change, and my body has this intense desire to impregnate a mate.”

The talk coming from him is oddly arousing, and you find yourself growing slick between your thighs. You hover closer to him now, the head of his cock brushing up against your belly as your hands start to roam over his bare chest, “Please, show me what you need, whatever it is, and I’ll help you. You’re in pain, Eijirou.”

He winces on cue, turning his head before you can see the extent of his discomfort. Kirishima shakes his head, “Listen, I-I’ve been doing this alone for years, I can handle it.”

“Yes, but you don’t have to!” You try and reason with him, reaching up to take his cheeks in your hands, redirecting his attention, “I’m your wife, Eijirou.”

A tear wells up in either of his eyes, making his irises look like they are glittering in the candlelight of the secret room, “Yes, but you’re not my mate.”

Those few words topple you over like a horse has just run over your chest. The breath has been knocked out of you, stolen from your lungs, and you take a step back to steady yourself before you fall. Kirishima’s eyesight falters as he realizes what he’s just said, but he makes no move to correct himself. Rather, he stands taller, straightening his spine like he’s ready to go to war, to lead thousands of men into a battle he’s not sure he can win.

You have a choice to make now – you can stand here and fight, or you can flee through the secret passage and hide in your own chambers until his rut is over.

“Eijirou,” you grit your teeth, tears flowing down your cheeks, and look him in the eyes, “I’m not leaving you.”

Fight it is, then.

Kirishima looks stunned, so you take advantage of his stillness to rush at him, cupping his face with your hands and bruising his lips in a kiss. His hips roll forward and his cock is sheathed between your thighs, so you squeeze yourself tight around him, grabbing at his wrists before he can pull himself away. The whimper he lets loose from his mouth is wanton, his body practically shivering with the need to swallow you whole.

You kiss him until he’s shaking, his hands white-knuckled as he bars himself from grabbing every inch of your body like his primal nature pushes him to. When you pull away from him, you look up into his eyes and see hesitation keeping his pupils dilated to where you can still make out his crimson irises.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispers, voice breaking. “I-I can’t do that to you, not now, not when I think-”

He stops himself before he finishes his sentence, but in your heart, you know what he’s going to say. You smile, praying that he receives some warmth and comfort from the gesture, and brush your thumbs against his wrists where you hold his hands by his sides, “You won’t hurt me. I trust you.”

It’s as if he’s resigned himself to this truth, that you will not leave unless he forces you, and he does not believe that it’s his place to coerce you into doing anything you haven’t already decided for yourself. Kirishima stands tall and takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as if taking in the moment. You hear him count a few numbers in an ancient dialect before he peels back his lids and his darkened eyes meet yours, lust swirling around like thunderclouds and his irises have deepened to a maroon shade.

“Are you sure?” he asks, one final time, hands still by his sides, “Once we start, I might not be able to stop.”

That sentence alone is enough to send a chill down your spine.

You nod, trying not to seem too eager by keeping your feet flat to the ground, “Yes, Eijirou, please. I want you to do whatever you need to, please use me.”

The sound of your voice so willing and wanton makes Kirishima’s blood run hot in his veins, thudding against his ears until he can hardly hear anything else. He steps forward, his chest flush with yours, and his shaking hands finally make contact with your body.

He is insatiable when he finally grabs a hold of you, palming at you like an animal. Kirishima captures your mouth in a searing kiss, moaning as soon as your lips part in a gasp. He backs you into the desk he was sitting against when you first came in, your ass knocking against the wood in his haste. A low growl bubbles up in his chest until he nips at your lower lip and you whimper, then the sound fades to a moan.

“Fuck, Princess,” he whispers hoarsely, eyes already blitzed out as he looks down at you, “I want to taste you.”

Your eyes are wide as you blink up at him, your fingers in his hair to sift through the dark red strands. You find yourself nodding your head eagerly, squirming up onto the top of the desk to give him a better angle. Kirishima smiles wide enough that you can see his sharper canines, gums bared as he grins. He lowers himself to his knees, and something about seeing him in such a vulnerable position makes your head spin.

Kirishima pushes the hem of your skirt up and over your thighs, bunching up the material in one hand as the other parades over your soft undergarments. He visibly shivers when the pad of his middle finger brushes over the wet patch on the fabric, his tongue parting his lips as he dampens them.

He mutters a string of ancient curse words in a dialect you cannot comprehend, but it still arouses you, nonetheless. You help him with your dress, tucking it behind your back, before reaching out to run your fingers through his hair, tugging him closer to your core.

You give him a soft, “Eiji, please,” before you hear the tearing of fabric, and your cunt is bared to the cold air.

A gasp parts your lips, but you throw your head back when his tongue first makes contact with your slick folds. You whine into the air, the sound dying out as it travels, and your grip in his hair tightens to a pressure that should be painful, but his thick skin gives him a better barrier for pain.

Kirishima hums against your clit, running the coarse pad of his tongue over the sensitive bud before diving back into your sopping core. He moans as your taste coats his tongue, bringing one of his hands up to your belly so he can brush his thumb along your clit for further stimulation, the coarse feeling of his scaled elbow grating over your thigh giving you goosebumps. His free set of fingers dig into every part of your leg that he can find, roaming from your calves to your thighs to your ass, kneading the plush skin beneath his hardened fingertips.

You clench around his tongue, the thick muscle stimulating even the deepest parts of you. You mewl out his name, uncaring as to how loud you’re being, which only seems to spur him on, the pace of his tongue quickening as his thumb grinds mercilessly against your clit. You cant your hips upward against his mouth, begging for even more friction, and he chuckles, the sound sending reverberating pleasure through your core.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” Kirishima’s voice is gentle as he turns his attention to your thighs, kissing the innermost parts as he slips a thick finger between your folds, “I want you to come undone for me, yeah? Think you can do that?”

A nod brings your vision back down to him, to look into his eyes as you rock against his knuckles. He bares his teeth to your thigh before sucking your supple skin between his lips. The combination of pleasure from your cunt mixed with the pain from his biting and sucking of your thigh brings you closer to your high, your vision blurred by ecstasy. You moan, tightening every muscle in your body in hopes that it will push you over the edge, but Kirishima’s hand runs over your taut skin in a soothing motion, rubbing the pads of his fingers deep into your muscles as if to try and calm you down.

“Relax,” he kisses over the dark red mark now splotched against your thigh, “I’ve got you, I’m gonna take care of you.”

You believe him, between his earnest expression and the honest hoarseness behind his words. You swallow thickly, forcing the growing lump in your throat back down into your chest. The contours of your body are less noticeable once you’ve eased your muscles, and Kirishima takes it as a sign for him to quicken the pace of his fingers in your pussy, leaning forward to suck at your clit with his teeth and tongue.

He can feel your walls tightening as he stretches you out with another finger, the spongy texture of your insides giving away the closeness to your end. Smirking around your skin, Kirishima hums, sending you crashing carelessly towards your orgasm.

The sound of his name falling obscenely from your lips makes his cock harden and twitch between his legs. He grunts as he ruts forward against your shin, the head of his dick smearing pre-come against your smooth skin. You suck in a breath at the feeling, falling forward so your lips are in his hair, whispering murmurs of praise and begging as you feel your core writhe with pleasure.

“There’s my girl,” he murmurs as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, hearing your whines from above, “c’mon, Princess, come for me.”

You do as your told, the glutinous walls within you coated with your arousal, milky fluid seeping from your body until it has coated his palm. Kirishima reaches up with his clean hand to thread it through your hair, pulling you gently so he can stand to his feet. You watch as he pumps his cock with the palm that is slick with your silvery strands of spend, the head of him engorged and angry red in color. Your mouth salivates at the thought of him splitting you wide open with the thick girth of him, and for a moment you’re unsure if you’ll be able to take him as easily as you originally believed.

Kirishima wraps an arm around your waist, tugging you to him so he can hoist you off of the desk and walk you towards the small bed staggered in the corner of the room. He lowers you down easily, the rippling muscles of his biceps drawing your eye as he strains himself to keep you safe. You lean up and kiss him on the mouth, swallowing his growling sounds into the recesses of your throat so they may thrum up and down your spine, sending a second shock-wave towards your core.

You notice that Kirishima is eyeing a very specific point on your throat as he leans back onto his thick thighs, taking in your already weakened body. You reach up and palm at his chest, redirecting his attention to your eyes, “Eijirou, what is it?”

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, leaning down to kiss up from your navel to your chest, “you’re just beautiful.”

His words make your body blush from head to toe, your feet curling up as he shuffles himself out of his pants. You take the moment to hoist your dress over your head, both of your clothes left in a pile on the floor as you reconnect your bodies with a kiss.

Something about this time makes his skin hotter to the touch, you notice, and his muscles are practically ripping at the seams, threatening to bust out if he tries any harder to keep himself restrained. You lick at the fullness of his lower lip, “Eijirou, I need you. Please.”

The pleading nature of your voice only feeds his feral nature, the instinctive side of him wanting to rip you to shreds until you’re screaming his name, crying fat tears as he presses into you and fills you to the brim with his spend. Kirishima has to squeeze his eyes shut to stave off the primal need that stirs him, instead focusing on the way his heart beats faster when you’re around, and how the glimmer in your eyes never ceases to amaze him.

Kirishima angles his hips backward so he can push the tip of his cock between your sopping heat, his restraint feathering out the deeper he slides into you. A gentle gasp from your lips stops him, his hips stilled as he peels his eyes open to look down at you, “A-Am I hurting you?”

“No, fuck, Eijirou, I want you,” you scramble to grab at whatever part of him you can find, fingernails digging roughly into his biceps, “I need you in me, I need you to take me. I’m yours.”

That is the last straw to break the proverbial camel’s back. Kirishima sheathes his cock within your heat with one smooth stroke, the stretch of your tight pussy making the shaft of his dick throb noticeably. You reel forward, your forehead smacking into his chest at the sudden obtrusion from within you. Your body takes over then, trying your hardest to kiss and lick and touch any patch of skin that is close enough.

The prince wraps an arm around your back, holding you sturdily with a palm splayed out between your shoulders, easily keeping you in place as he starts to jut his hips forward, “So fuckin’ tight, angel, such a good little girl, takin’ my cock like this. Fuck I want to-”

He stops himself by dropping his forehead to your shoulder, whining as his thick cock pounds repeatedly into your pussy. You grab at his hair to pull him away from you, desperate to look him in the eyes, “Eiji, tell me.”

There are tears settled in the corners of his irises with the desperate need for more that his body cries out for. Kirishima shakes his head and kisses you on the mouth, nails biting into your back as his cock makes your insides keen. He loses himself in the stretch of you, the tightness of your core making his whole body boil, his skin teeming with sweat as he rucks into you.

“Damnit,” he whimpers as you clench around him, drawing his dick back into your core as he tries to snap his hips backward, “I want to breed you, so fuckin’ bad, Princess.”

It is like he expects you to retreat once he’s said it, as if the thought of it might scare you off. On the contrary, all it does is spur you forward. You kiss him like your life depends on it, rolling your hips up to meet his until he is stroking the hidden part of you near your spine, the head of his cock inflamed and beading with pre-come even as he’s buried to the hilt within you.

The weight of his balls is more intense now, throbbing with his seed, slapping into your ass as he ruts forward, taking your body and molding it with his intentions. You hiss as the veins forking along the underside of his cock drag salaciously against your folds, but he merely takes advantage of the parting of your lips to delve his tongue into your mouth. He maps out each of your molars and then down to the back of your throat, moans spoken into the confines of your jaws so that the world may never hear them, only you.

You know that you are going to have to be the one to tell him that this is okay, that you want him to destroy your body with his touch. Every hair stands on end, even with him holding back, and you can only imagine how worked your bones will feel once he’s actually given you his all. Kirishima is feverish around you, hot and sweating as he works the both of you towards the point of coming undone. You relinquish yourself from his kiss, leaning your head back so you can look him in the eyes.

“Breed me, Eijirou,” your voice is hoarse when you speak, near cracking as you beg him, desperate tears glittering in the corners of your eyes, “I want you to fill me up with your come, please. Stuff me full of it.”

Kirishima’s palm rests at your abdomen, and you notice it for the first time. You wonder what is going through his mind; if he is thinking about the way his cock fills your stomach, or if he is plagued by the idea of you full with his child, pregnant and swollen at the navel. He rubs the heel of it over the expanse of your belly, finding every available patch of skin to caress with his touch, the hardened tips of his fingers raking thin red lines into your skin.

A part of you wants them to never go away, marking you as his, letting all the others know who you belong to.

“I want your baby, Eiji. Won’t you give me one?” Your voice is quiet, timid, unsure if this is how he wants this night to go. You lick your lips and look up at him bashfully, tiny tear tracks spilled over your cheeks in rivulets, “I want you to breed me full, Eijirou. I want you to fill up my cunt with your seed until I’m dripping, please, won’t you?”

Your begging mixed with his feral desire brings his teeth down to your neck, bared but not piercing, not yet. He whimpers as he slips his mouth closed, nosing over the area, licking at it like an animal, “You’d be so pretty when you’re full of me, absolutely beautiful.”

You turn your head so you can kiss him on the temple, feeling his hesitation beneath the pads of your fingers, “I’m your wife, Eiji, but I want to be your mate, too.”

A strangled sound is mangled in his throat, but he pulls away from you to look you in the eye nonetheless, “Wh-What are…Princess, listen, I don’t want you to think-”

“I love you.”

His irises engulf his pupils as his eyes widen, stuttering breaths parting his lips. His gaze is frantic, unable to find one part of your face to hone in on, the three words that you’ve uttered into the air giving him serious pause. His heart starts pumping furiously in his chest, threatening to beat right out of the cage of his ribs if he isn’t careful to calm it.

You are frightened that you’ve been too honest, that you’ve bared your soul too far and there is no coming back. Fear forces your words down into your chest, unable to cry out an apology at going too far too soon. Your hands on his arms pull away, digging into the sheets so you have something to take out your inner turmoil on.

“Y-You want…” Kirishima shakes his head, swallowing thickly so his throat bobs, “You want me?”

The incredulous snort that makes your nostrils flare cannot be contained. You look down to where he is balls deep in your cunt, and then back up to hold his gaze, “Eijirou, is that really even a question?”

He’s stuttering out some sort of response, but you can’t be bothered to listen, so you drag him forward by the nape of his neck, cementing your mouth to his. You wrap your legs around his waist, the heels of your feet digging into the firm muscle of his ass to pull him back to you, to encourage his movements. Kirishima is tentative this time, unsure of himself but his animalistic nature still brings him back to pump his cock within your heat.

“I love you,” you murmur into his lips, twirling your fingers through his hair, “if you love me too, then I want whatever you have to offer, whatever you need to give me so I can finally be yours.”

With every word you speak, the animal gnawing at the back of Kirishima’s consciousness grows less tame. It is begging, with claws at his throat, to take you for all you’re worth, until you’re bone dry and pleading for him to relinquish you. He bares his teeth and the instinct curling around his spine, making him seem stronger, wider, somehow gives way to the true nature of this rut he’s told you about.

It’s a mixture of excitement and fear, and you feel a rush of heat flood your core.

Kirishima groans, gnashing his teeth as he drops his head so your foreheads are pressed to one another. You can sense he’s still holding back, still a touch embarrassed, so you knead your fingers into the tops of his shoulders, begging with the touch of his muscles for him to claim you once and for all.

“Kiri,” your voice is strong even though you’re whispering, “what do you want to do to me? Don’t you want me?”

“Fuck, of course I do,” Kirishima kisses you soundly on the mouth, as if he must reassure you, as if you were doubting him. “I want you, every day for the rest of my life. B-But I can’t…a mate is for life, angel.”

The way he says it suggests that you don’t already know, or that it may come as a surprise to you. You smile, wrapping your arms around his back so you can lean up, arching your spine so your torsos are flush with one another. You’ve never felt the desire to be so close to someone, but it is as if this is not even close enough. You wish there were a better way to prove to him that he is the end of the line for you, that you could never want anyone else.

“I love you,” you repeat, palming the corded muscle of his back as if it might pump the confession into him by the osmosis of your sweat, “You are the first thing I want to see in the morning when I wake, and the last thing I gaze at in the night before I fall asleep. You are the end to all my beginnings, Eijirou.”

Kirishima groans at your confession, his needy body unable to create the same kind of eloquent response as he holds his hips still, unwilling to ruin your beautiful moment. His nose brushes along the bridge of yours, a question lodged in his throat and unwilling to be bared. You nudge the bow of your lips against his cheek, murmuring kind praises into his ear, “Tell me what you want, what you need, Eijirou. I want to give it to you, whatever it is.”

“C-Can I mark you?” his voice is bedraggled, just on the cusp of breaking.

“Please,” you ask of him, craning your head so your neck is available. “I want to be yours, and I want everyone else to know.”

It seems that is all the encouragement he needs, baring his fanged teeth to the thin skin of your neck, tongue tracing over your jugular as he prepares the area for his biting kiss. He nudges his nose against your earlobe, that same ancient tongue from earlier sending a shiver down your spine as he speaks.

You are not prepared for the searing pain that rips through your body when he finally tears into you. A cry parts your lips and your cunt squeezes him so tightly that he almost slips from within you. Your hand rips through his hair, the other occupied with his shoulder, nails bludgeoning his hardened skin until you draw blood. You want to throw your head back but you know that will only make it all worse, his teeth will shred your skin until you are but a flayed piece of meat lying beneath him.

“Kiri,” you whine, turning your head to nestle you lips into the edge of his hair that curls around his ear, kissing at whatever surface you can find.

He hums in response, unable to give you words as he sucks and pulls at the skin. You feel your mind cloud the longer he has dug into you, the tendrils of need writhing around your cerebrum until you can no longer think clearly. The one thing on your mind is the very thing between his legs, and you whisper words of want into his ear, praying that he can hear you through his animalistic marking.

The palm of his hand digs further into your belly, until he can feel the tip of his cock underneath his fingers. Kirishima growls around your neck, the timbre of his voice shaking your very bones. You swallow, dipping your fingers further into the skin of his shoulders, “Kirishima, move.”

His hips are listening even if he does not give an indication that he’s heard you. He uses his hands to prop up your legs, the tips of his digits bruising your skin with their intensity, until your knees are almost parallel with the mattress. The only reason they aren’t digging into your chest is because he’s still slotted there, gnashing away at the sensitive skin of your neck. His body is lumbering and thick, dense from his neck to his ankles.

Kirishima makes you feel small, in every sense of the word. Even as a princess, you did not feel dainty, you’ve never been a precious flower that someone else has to protect. You’ve always stumbled a little, faltered when you should be standing upright, and your parents have had to reprimand you for your unladylike tendencies more than once.

But here, lying underneath his hulking form, your fingers seem tinier, more elegant, and even as your knees dig into his ribs, he does not falter, does not wince. You cannot put him in pain, between his hard exterior and his intense primal nature, and it makes you feel like a porcelain doll.

And once his cock plunges back within your tight, wet heat, you are reminded of how massive he truly is.

The tip of his cock butterflies you wide open, shattering your limited stretch and prying you open with each quivering inch of his thick girth. He overwhelms you, so much so that your head topples backward to dig further into the pillow, as if running away from him might soothe the ache between your legs. Even that is a mistake, because once you’ve shifted, his teeth scrape down the sensitive skin of your collarbones, angry red marks left in their wake.

He leans back to examine his hard work, eyes roaming the juncture of your neck and shoulder where the shape of his teeth is like a shadow. A guttural growl emanates from his throat, the air sparking with electricity at the sound of it. You swallow the thick, pent-up arousal in your throat and breathe heavily, somewhat thankful to be rid of his mouth even though a part of you would frenetically like to bring it back. Your throat is throbbing, and you think you could count the number of teeth he was able to sink into you based on the pain of it alone.

“Princess,” he gasps as he takes in the pulsating mark now claiming you as his, “I-I’m sorry, d-did I-”

You shake your head and pull at him in every way possible, your body crying out for more of him in every sense of the word. Kirishima moans as you kiss him again, pushing your tongue between his teeth to try and taste the familiar warmth of his mouth. You moan, your body finding his easily, comfortable and wanting as you careen forward, the throbbing circular mark on your shoulder long forgotten. You have to come up for air much sooner than you like, still reeling from his marking of your body.

Kirishima’s palm is digging into your stomach again, nails biting into your smooth skin as his cock pulses, and he squints harshly as he pulls away to look you in the eyes. The sight of you splayed out beneath him, completely at his mercy, makes his balls throb and he snaps his hips up into you again out of pure primal need alone. Your body jostles, breasts bouncing and thighs rippling, as his cock bottoms out into your cunt, the tip of him bursting with arousal and finding your cervix.

“Oh shit,” he drops his head to your chest, curling himself upward so your hips are flush, his hip bones bruising your thighs as he unceremoniously crumbles into you. Your hands are on him in an instant, trying to understand what could have possibly happened to make him so vulnerable.

You barely have time to say his name before he’s whining, sucking your nipple between the bite of his teeth out of the sole desire to muffle his needy pants. Your hand sifts through his hair, head thrown back while you enjoy the ministrations of his tongue around your chest. He mumbles out words that you can’t quite make out, but with the way his cock is throbbing between your walls and the motions of his hand and mouth on your breast, you don’t care much to understand what drivel he’s spinning.

It is only when you feel the inside of your body flood with heat that you understand.

“Eijirou,” you call to him, forcing his head away from your nipple with the gentle tug of your hands, “d-did you just-”

He looks like he could cry, his head hung in shame, “Yes.”

You want to laugh at his pitiful nature, but you can’t, not knowing what the would do to his self-esteem. Instead, you roll your hips up to try and milk him of his release, encouraging him to start rocking your body with his arousing rhythm until he is completely spent within you.

“You said you wanted to breed me, didn’t you?” you question roughly in his ear, your head tilted to where he’s tucked into your collarbone. You kiss his hair, desperate to clutch onto him as you feel his cock softening, peeling away from your tight hole. The feel of come seeping from your cunt makes you squirm, “Eijirou?”

Kirishima tilts his head back and looks you in the eyes, reddened orbs practically devastated. He nods, “Y-Yeah, but I just-”

“Again.”

His throat bobs, eyes widening at your notion. He turns his head to survey your body, littered with bruises and bite marks and it hasn’t been but one round of his cock buried to the hilt within you. His eyes catch on the marking on your shoulder and his cock stirs again, “A-Again?”

“Breed me,” you grit between your teeth, “please, Eijirou. I want you to put a baby in me.”

The biting nature of his fingertips is not lost on you as he pushes your thighs back so your knees are pressed into the mattress. His thick body is wavering above you, eyes unable and unwilling to look away from you as he starts to roll his hips again, slowly so he does not lose the slick that he has gathered from the both of you.

Kirishima swallows one last pensive breath and then it’s like a switch has gone off in his mind, like he’s finally letting the caged beast out to take over, controlling his ministrations. You arch your back so you can feel his hardened nipples against your chest, one of his hands slowly creeping up your torso until he’s found the bruised, marred skin of your neck beneath his fingertips.

“Look so beautiful, love,” Kirishima kisses your forehead, like a proverbial final word before he devours you whole. “I can’t wait to wreck this pretty pussy of yours, mark this body up until no one has any question of who you belong to.”

His uncharacteristically harsh words make your core tighten and your toes curl. You nod, starting to beg for it, the words just barely tipping over the edge of your tongue when he clamps his hand down on the mark of your neck. You feel white-hot pain shoot forth from the area, coating your body in a wave of agony as the pulsing spreads downward.

A broken whimper escapes your gritted teeth, eyes screwed shut when his blunt fingernails dip further into the area, almost like he’s testing to see how far you can take it before he has to relent. He is unkind when he grabs your thigh, pushing it up into your chest as he resumes his slow pace from before. His cock is already beginning to harden again, twitching relentlessly against your glutinous walls, coated with both your arousal and his spend.

“Eijirou,” you want to beg for him but you can barely push out the broken syllables of his name. Tears coat your cheeks but you don’t mind the blurred vision as you gaze up at him. It makes him shine, like the starlight he truly is. Your face breaks into a smile, despite the absolute torment you feel wracking your body. You would endure anything for him, any sort of discomfort or torture, if it meant that you could be this close to him forever.

Kirishima kisses you square on the mouth, “Hush, angel, let me take care of you.”

Your jaw snaps shut, the muscles along the angle of your face shuddering under the pressure of your gritted teeth. Kirishima smiles warmly at you, the last shred of his humanity remaining before he plunges his thumb into the direct center of your marking, digging his fingernail into the bruised skin. You yelp, your cunt clenching around his cock as he pushes deeper into you.

The entirety of your body is so compliant, molded around his frame, practically fluid as you conform to the positions his hands push you into. Kirishima licks a heated stripe along the column of your neck, leaving behind a wet patch that runs cold when he breathes over it. You dig your hands back against his shoulders, raking the tips of your nails along the length of his back and shoulders.

Kirishima gasps audibly at the newfound tightness of your core at his ministrations. He uses his free palm to reach down and grind his thumb against your hooded clit. He nudges his nose along your jawline, breathing coming in heavy pants as he pummels you into the soft plush of the mattress beneath your shoulders. The snap of his hips does not let your backside rest, your body hovering a few inches from the mattress.

It’s as if he cannot get enough of you, even so much so that he won’t allow your frame to fall too far from him. Kirishima must keep you close, he has no other option. The feral animal clawing at what little shred of his resolve that remains whispers in his ear to put a new mark on every visible inch of your skin until you are nothing but a black and blue mess, blubbering and begging beneath him.

“Such a pretty little thing when you come undone for me,” Kirishima murmurs against the shell of your ear, the sultry sound of his voice intermingled with his panting sending a rolling wave of pleasure down your spine until your toes are curling around the sheets. “You like it when I’m this deep inside of you? Not letting your pussy breathe?”

You are nodding even if you don’t fully understand what he’s saying. You would agree to anything, that much you are aware of, and you know that he is keen to that fact as well. Kirishima is still careful with you, somehow aware enough of your limitations to revere you and reel himself in when he feels he might be going too far. The blitzed-out look in your eyes tells him all that he needs to know – you have slipped beneath the surface into that subservient headspace that he’s seen you on the cusp of so many times when he’s had you knuckle deep and coming around his fingers. The very essence of his being tells him to work you for every tear, ever drop of arousal, that you can create, to bludgeon your body until you are begging him to give you a moment to breathe, and then deny you of it.

Kirishima’s hand that has been pressed against your wound now turns to curl around your throat, fingers squeezing your neck until you are gasping for breath. Your eyes flutter somewhere between open and closed as your mouth gapes open wide, bobbing like a fish out of water as you struggle to inhale the slightest amount of oxygen. Your hands flop from his body to the mattress, curling around the sheets until he hears them rip between your nails.

“Look at you, Princess,” he nudges your cheek until you’re looking him in the eyes again, “can’t even speak in full sentences. So whipped for my cock, huh? Tell me what you want me to do to you, if you can talk.”

Drool dribbles from either corner of your mouth and when you shake your head, it creates damp splotches on the pillowcase. Kirishima chuckles, pushing the base of his thumb against the fleshy underside of your chin, forcing your head still so he can glower down at you, crimson eyes shining. The heel of his palm stays jutted against your esophagus, limiting your breathing as he loiters over you.

The words that come out of your mouth are mere wheezing syllables, unable to be understood in their broken form. Tears form in your eyes, clumping on your lashes, at the pure frustration that you can’t tell him exactly what you’d like him to do to you. You whine, the sound breaking in the middle when Kirishima tightens his grip on your throat. You peel your eyes open to see a darkness settled in his irises, their normally crimson color turned almost to black in his lustful state.

It should make you upset, that he’s losing himself, but instead, it just stokes the fire in your belly until the flames are raging up into your throat. The smoke of it all builds behind your eyes and in your mouth until you have to open everything, whining and moaning and writhing like your life depends on it. All the while, Kirishima has set a steady, bruising pace of his cock dragging against your walls, the forked veins on the underside of him giving you additional friction. You want to grab at him, to tug on his body until he melts into you, but your arms are limp, practically your whole body is at the intense ministrations of his hands and hips.

Finally, after your vision begins to blur and your eyelids slip closed at the feel of the remaining oxygen leaving your throat, Kirishima relents his grip and a rush of air floods your lungs. You gasp and choke, the motions making your cunt clamp tightly around his cock, giving Kirishima the push he needs to bottom out within you again, holding himself still until you can catch your breath.

“Such a good girl,” Kirishima is whispering the words hoarsely as his mouth roams your cheek and neck and collarbones. He plants wet, sloppy kisses against your skin like he does not have time to think about the affections.

You whine when you feel his tongue dart from between his lips to lavish attention to the wound on your shoulder, the bite mark from his pointed teeth leading way to bruising and little trails of crimson seeping down from your shoulder to the mattress. He licks at it, half out of wanting to hear you moan when he puts too much pressure on the bruise and half out of guilt for hurting you.

His name comes from your lips and it makes his cock stir against your cervix, “Tell me what you want, angel, I need to know.”

You are aware the duality of that statement. He needs to know because he needs permission, even if his current state won’t allow him to admit it. You find it in you to reach a hand up to sift through his hair, palming at the back of his head to give him some ease with your touch.

“I want you to come in me, Eijirou,” your voice is panting, a mix of exhaustion and longing making you sound fatigued. You feel tears push out of the edges of your eyes at the pure need you have for him to make all of this a reality, “Come in me, Eiji, I want you to give me a baby. I want you to breed me until I’m full of your child, over and over again. I want you to fill me up un-ah!”

Kirishima ruts forward and you swear you feel something within you tear at the pure size of him. He nips at your jaw, nosing along your neck, brushing against it whenever he pulses forward. The salacious sounds filling the air only contribute to your arousal, floods of slick washing over his dick as he slots in and out of you.

He grunts, “So fuckin’ tight,” before his hands travel down towards your thighs, pushing them back until he has you folded so only your shoulders are against the bed. You whimper as you turn, your mark pushed against the mattress until it is pulsing with pain.

“I’m gonna come in this tight, wet little hole until you’re leaking, until you taste it.” Kirishima can feel the impending doom of his spend when his cock twitches within your quivering heat. You try and clamp your walls down around him to keep his length sheathed within you for longer, but it’s of no use. He has set a bruising pace that he intends on following through with until you are screaming and his come is coating your soft insides.

Your toes are pointed toward the ceiling, curling downward when he slams into you. The pace of his hips is menacing, something you should fear, because the feel of him makes you think he might rip you open. But, you’re sure you’d let him split you down the middle and you’d still say thank you. Mumbles of incoherent drivel pour from your mouth along with your rivulets of drool and tears.

Kirishima chuckles, “Look at you, a beautiful mess for me, aren’t you, sweetheart? I can’t wait to fill this precious cunt up. I’ll give you as many babies as you can hold.”

The call to your womb must be strong, because he stays slotted within you for a moment, fingers rolling around your thighs as he takes you in. His crimson irises dole over your body, from your plush lips to your plump chest, on downward to the gentle bump of your belly as his cock nudges within you. Kirishima abandons your thighs for your stomach, raking his nails along the unmarked plane of skin, thin angry lines left behind when he pulls away.

You reach forward to wrap your fingers around his wrist, keeping his touch pointed on your navel, “I want to have your baby, Eijirou. All of them, as many as you can give me. Please, I’m just a vessel for you to use.”

His eyes deepen at that sentiment, but something else passes through them. He catches his lip within the bite of his teeth before leaning down to kiss you, palm turned against your stomach so his knuckles drag along your skin, but he can slot his fingers between yours and squeeze.

“You are so much more than that,” he whispers into your mouth, as if the words may stay caged in there forever for you to marinate on them. He kisses your cheeks, the tears sticking on his lips, his voice thick when he speaks, “You’ll be the prettiest mama out there, you know? So beautiful and round, absolutely breathtaking when you have to waddle around, you’re so full.”

Kirishima is close to whimpering, eyes screwed shut as he speaks his heart, “I love you, Princess, god, you mean the world to me.”

Your fingers find purchase against his shoulders, the scratched skin beneath the pads of your digits making you salivate. You’ve marked him, too, even if it’s not the same. You want to spend the rest of your life repeating it over and over, marking him every time he finds you beneath the sheets, so that the others may know that he belongs to you just as much as you belong to him. The two of you are completely intertwined in every facet of the word, limbs and hearts woven into the same piece of soul fabric, begging to be together until the end of time.

The edges of your vision begin to dither as you come closer to your climax. You swallow the lump in your throat and whimper, “Kirishima, I think I might-”

He is listening, the hand not currently wrapped around yours reaching between your slick bodies to thumb at your clit. A bruising kiss is pressed firmly to your mouth, dampening your lewd sounds as you writhe under his bulky body, hardly moving but trying desperately all the same. You can’t help it as your mouth parts to lick at seam of his lips, but he willingly opens his mouth to you, receiving the pointed lapping of your tongue as he slowly begins to rut back into you.

“I want you to beg for what you want,” he gasps into your teeth, the tip of your noses clashing as the sound of his weighty balls slap against the curve of your ass. He can taste the saltiness of your tears as your mouths meld together, and it makes him smirk, “Are you cryin’? Like a sweet little bitch, crying for my cock?”

You want to answer him, to tell him how much you love every part of him, to shower his body in praise until you’ve gone mute, but your throat is hoarse and your mind is hazy, and you can’t form words. Instead, you tilt your head and kiss him harder, your tongue swiping over his as you try to convey how you’re feeling into this kiss, attempting to make his world spin. You want to give him a small taste of what he has done to you, even if it will never truly meet the searing reality of his hold he’s got on you, body, mind and soul.

“Cry for me, darling,” Kirishima coos as his mouth travels down the curve of your jaw until his teeth meet the juncture of your neck and ear, “I want Bakugou to hear you when I stuff your cunt full, all the way from out in the hallway. Gonna put my child in you while you sob for my cock, begging me to keep fucking you deeper and deeper into this bed.”

You can hardly create coherent sentences, between his mouth and hands and cock all working at your relentlessly, the ministrations of his body creating a throbbing euphoria between your hips. You whine at the idea of having to say much of anything right now, let alone an understandable string of words.

His balls are weighty as they slap against your backside, the sound making your throat bob, and he growls, “Beg for me, like the little whore you are.”

The nipping of his teeth against your mouth makes your cunt spasm, and Kirishima lets loose a strangled sound from the back of his throat. Based on the whimpering curtail of his voice, you can tell that he’s close to coming a second time. Your body tenses, every muscle coiled tightly as you edge yourself to a release. You have to close your eyes so the white-hot arousal boiling in your core can’t blur your vision.

“Y-Your come, your cock,” is all you can find yourself repeating over and over, your being too fucked-out to say much of anything else. Hot tears leak down your temples, exhausted sobs making your voice shake when you scream for him, throat close to shattering in its hoarseness.

Kirishima leans back so he can preen, his cock stretching you even further in this position. Your eyes bug out before you can squint your lids closed again. He chuckles, the sound dark and ominous as it reverberates around in the room, “Do you know how fuckin’ hard it’s been to control myself around you? God, I’ve been wanting to fuck you like this for months, breed you like a good little bitch in heat, give you loads of my come until you’re bursting at the seams with it.”

His lewd words are what bring you toppling over the edge, the thought of his come leaking out of your abused pussy, him plugging you up with his cock and rutting up into you again until he’s brought on another release from within himself. Your palms slap his biceps as you grip onto him, afraid he might actually push you through the mattress with the ferocity of his hips. There’s no doubt in your mind that you will have blooming bruises all over your body, marking you up like flowers spread throughout a garden.

“Fucking hell at this sloppy pussy, Princess,” Kirishima’s hands on your thighs tighten, biting deep into the muscle until you swear he hits bone, “I’m gonna breed you up so fuckin’ good, sweetheart. Keep you hidden in here, fuck you endlessly, until you’re begging me to quit.”

“No,” you gasp out, your voice crackling even on the single syllable, “don’t stop.”

Kirishima smirks down at you, “Careful what you wish for, Princess.”

You are shaking your head, silently encouraging him because your voice is shot to hell. You dig your nails into his biceps, shaking him just enough that he understands your subtext, starting to rock his hips against your ass, the thick shaft of his cock slipping along your inner walls as he works you closer to the crest of climax.

It’s just on the precipice of your body, your entire form overheated with the flames of arousal. You want to cry, the end so close and yet feeling so unachievable. Kirishima releases one of your thighs to attend to your clit, the pace of his circling finger matching that of his cock pounding into your heat. With each thrust, you see another wave of stars in the air above you. Even in the low candlelight of this secret room, you can see the glimmering in Kirishima’s irises, as if he has his own galaxy tucked away in his pupils, bringing it out for you and for you only.

Kirishima curses, dropping his head to watch his cock slip from your wet core, silvery strands of slick the only thing connecting him to you now, “Gotta stop clenching so hard, sweetheart,” somehow he manages to push himself back into you, despite the size of your hole. Kirishima grabs one of your ankles and settles it on his shoulder, turning to kiss the joint, “Such a tight little pussy, but so fucking sloppy. You’re dripping.”

His nose nudges along the length of your calf as he picks up his pace, rutting into you with purpose. You wonder how much of his animalistic nature will bleed into the other aspects of your life, but you don’t have much time to ponder before the coiling heat of your orgasm is beginning to build up and cloud your consciousness. Your jaw hangs slack and Kirishima takes the opportunity to slip his index and fourth finger between your lips, the golden ring on his finger cool on the heated pad of your tongue.

“There you go,” he murmurs absentmindedly, tilting his head to consider you. You circle one hand around his wrist, pushing him further into the hollows of your cheeks. His eyes widen at the action and it makes his hips falter in their pacing.

Kirishima can feel the tightening of your cunt around his cock, and the tears in your eyes, and he knows that you’re close, “C’mon, angel, I want you to come on my cock. You feel so fuckin’ good around me, holding me tight.”

You sniffle, drool creating a silvery rivulet down your cheek, “Eijirou, please,” you are whimpering into his knuckles, praying that you don’t bite down on him too hard.

“S’okay,” Kirishima’s voice is kind, in stark contrast to the harsh nature of his dick as it jackhammers into you. “Bite me, I’ll be okay. I just want to make you come.”

Listening to his plea, you grind your teeth together around his knuckles, biting into his skin until you taste metal. The release of pressure gives way to an earth-shattering orgasm, your cunt spasming around his cock until you can feel your arousal seeping out of your body, dripping onto the mattress beneath you. You suck on Kirishima’s fingers, tonguing his knuckles to distract yourself from screaming.

“Good girl,” he coos, thumb grazing your cheek and chin as he continues to rock into your core. You are still gushing when he tenses up, thighs rippling as he readies himself to come for the second time. Kirishima’s voice is hoarse, near a growl as he looks down at you, a blubbering, hiccuping mess beneath him, “F-Fuck, Princess, you’re gonna look so beautiful when you’re full with our child. I can’t wait to stuff you full over and over again, until you’re bursting at the seams.”

You start to plead, your words nothing more than blather, foaming at the mouth as you whine for his spend, tears beading at the corners of your eyes in your desperation. Your nails rake down the length of his muscled back, your heels dipping into the flesh of his ass to keep him pinned to you, for just a moment of reprieve from his agonizingly thick length. The forked veins running along either side of his cock make your walls quiver as your abused insides beg for a break.

When he feels a newfound tightness as he tries to withdraw from you, he seethes through his teeth, “Shit, sweetheart. St-Stop clenching, or else I’ll have to fuck you all over again.”

There’s a pause, a stilling of his body, as he looks down at you, drooling and crying around his knuckles. He chuckles, the sound reverberating his chest in such a way that shakes the very room. Your body tenses at the timbre, eyes struggling to focus on one specific point on his face as he ravishes you with his carmine irises.

“Actually,” he tilts his head, shoving his fingers further down your throat until you are gagging around his digits, “go ahead, push it out, it just means I get to breed this tight little pussy all over again.”

Kirishima leans forward, brushing his mouth against your jaw as he sheathes himself within you inch by inch, slow and salacious, “Don’t worry, I’ll fill you to the fucking brim anyway, angel. You want this load?”

You can’t help the instant wanton words that fly from your mouth, sparking in the midst of the two of you, pouring out of your chest like fire. You whine and keen, sucking his knuckles into the hollows of your cheeks to try and bring him closer to the precipice of pleasure, to give him the same radical sensation that he has given you twice now.

“Give it,” you force the words out despite his thick digits pushing down on the muscle of your tongue, “please, Eiji, I-I want your ba-oh.”

He growls, bludgeoning his cock into your cunt as he starts coming undone within you. A blooming heat starts in your core and blossoms upward until you think smoke may come out of your nostrils. It clouds your mind, the slightest bit of consciousness creeping forward so you can enjoy the way he paints your walls with his spend, filling you just as he promised.

“Take it,” he snarls, sharpened teeth making your back arch, “take my fucking load.”

Your legs wobble, but you keep yourself wrapped around him, allowing him to ride out his pleasure until his hips are sloppy, thighs brushing your bruised ass a final time before he drops his head to your chest. He is hot, unbearably warm, but you endure it because it means he is here.

His hands brush down from the backs of your knees until he is pushing you back into the mattress, allowing your body to rest, limp against the sheets. Kirishima kisses the swell of your breast, imagining how full they’ll be once your womb has been filled and your body starts to change. He could cry at the thought of it, his animalistic side attempting to take over his consciousness, warm at the thought of you carrying on his lineage, giving him heir after heir.

Kirishima hums against your sternum, hands encompassing your sides in full, fingers splayed across your ribs, “Such a pretty little thing, angel. You’re perfect. I love you.”

He starts to pull from you but you whine, clenching around him so tightly that your combined arousal seeps from your cunt, dripping down the curve of your ass. Your nails bite into his biceps, clutching onto him like an anchor, “Please don’t leave me, Eijirou.”

“Hey,” his voice is soothing, nose nudging over your jugular. He presses himself back into you, filling you up even as he starts to soften, “I’m right here, sweetheart. I promise I’m not going anywhere. Not now, and not ever. You’re mine, my mate.”

You swear you see the curling wisps of flames seeping from his teeth and tongue, the dragon in him coming forth in a surge of possessiveness. His eyes drop to the piercing bite adorning your shoulder, a mix of blood and bruising on display, the mating mark stirring his cock within your cunt again and you’re afraid he might already be starting up for a third round.

Tilting your head skyward, you beseech him for his mouth, pursing your lips just enough that he understands your silent plea. Kirishima’s smirk melts into a smile, dimples piercing his cheeks, and he meets you halfway, slotting his mouth to yours. The warmth of your lips meld together, noses bumping and teeth clashing, but you do not care because at least he is buried to the hilt within you and his body is flush with your own. You see stars as you are deprived of oxygen, but this might be the most pleasant way to go – full to the brim of him, his mouth starving you, your entire being swallowed by the essence of him.

“You don’t quit that, I’ll take you again, right now,” Kirishima is growling as his mouth finds your mark again, pressing a harsh kiss to the purpled skin, “You’re so perfect, sweetheart. I love you so much.”

Tears well up in your eyes, and you’re not sure what specific event has stirred them on, but you let them fall nonetheless. Kirishima is quick to kiss them away before they can stain your pillowcase, whispering kindness as he brushes his mouth against each of your eyelids, “I can’t believe you’re all mine.”

“Always, Eijirou,” you whisper into thin air, your voice reaching his ears and sending a bolt of lightning down his spine, “I’ve always been yours, from the moment I saw you, I belonged to you.”

“And I have always been yours too.” Kirishima brushes his nose against the bridge of your face, “I can’t wait to build a legacy with you.”

-

The thudding of footsteps echoes down the hall, drawing carmine irises up from their previously hooded position. He rolls his eyes, standing to his feet, sword weighing heavy on his belt, “What is it?”

“Very important news,” the younger man’s throat bobs as he stutter steps backward, “The, uh, the ball that’s being held later-”

The blonde wags his finger in midair, a chuckle parting his smirking mouth, “Go find someone else to figure that shit out. You’ll regret it if you go in there now.”

A widened stare follows his finger to the door, where the wood is shaking just enough that he can get the hint. The knight in front of him chuckles, sitting back down in his chair, crossing his leg over his knee, “Yeah, I wouldn’t disturb him during his breeding season if I were you.”

-

a/n: yeah, so this was supposed to be 2k. obviously that didn’t happen, lol. i hope you guys like my first true kiri fic :) 

tagging: @mirakumiruku @kamehamethot​ @1-800-callmekatsuki​ @shoutogepi​ @freckledoriya​ @writeiolite​ @kingtamakimurder​ @cutesuki--bakugou​

#kirishima x reader #kirishima smut #kirishima eijirou x reader #kirishima eijirou smut #bnha smut #bnha x reader #kirishima bnha #morgan writes bnha #kirishima x you #kirishima eijirou x you #my writing

[mimisempai]

Let the magic of my love take care of you

Summary :

Five times where Loki takes care of Mobius with the help of magic and once where he doesn't need it.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32777188

2311 words - Rating G

1.

"Hey here!" Loki said softly as he entered Mobius' office.

"Loki!"

"I've come to give you my report on the mission with the new recruits." continued Loki as he came to sit across from Mobius.

"I'm listening."

If anyone entered the office at this moment, there would be no indication that the two men were a couple.

But if one stayed, he would see the way their fingers brushed against each other as Loki gave Mobius the file he held in his hands, the way Mobius moved his chair closer so their knees touched, or the closer than necessary distance between their heads when Loki pointed out a detail on the papers spread out before them.

All these small gestures were evidence of their relationship, but only visible to those who knew them.

Once he finished his report, Loki stood up. His gaze fell on Josta's open can on a corner of Mobius' desk.

"How long ago did you open it?"Loki asked him.

"This morning," Mobius answered before shrugging his shoulders.

Loki took the can in his hand, which gradually turned blue, the color of his Jotun skin.

He kept it for a few seconds and then put it back under Mobius' curious look. On the can you could see the droplets of steam caused by the drink, which was now cold.

He leaned towards Mobius and said softly, "I know you prefer to drink it cold..."

Then as he got up he winked at him before turning and heading for the door.

He turned around one last time, and said, "See you later." Before closing the door behind him under the amazed look of Mobius.

2.

"Papers, papers, always papers! I can't take paperwork anymore!" Mobius threw his pen towards the door, but he didn't hear the sound it should have made as it smashed against it. He looked up to see Loki had just entered his office and caught the pen in mid-air.

"Are you tired of me already that you want to eliminate me?" asked Loki with a teasing smile on his face.

"Aaah Loki... shit, lunch! The cafeteria! I forgot about it! I'm sor-"

"Hey, hey, it's okay Mobius, Casey told me you probably wouldn't show up, seeing as how the last time he saw you the files were piling up on your desk." replied Loki as he walked over to him.

"That doesn't stop me from being sorry."

Loki shook his head, "It's not like we'll never get another chance, and honestly what worries me the most is not that you didn't come, but the fact that you're missing out on a meal again."

Mobius protested, "It's okay I-"

Loki stopped him with a hand, "But as a devoted companion, I thought of you and... tada...!"

Loki twirled his hand and amidst the green swirls appeared... a bowl of salad, which he placed on Mobius' desk after making room.

Mobius couldn't help but laugh as he recognized the bowl of salad.

"What are you doing?"

"...your salad is Asgard in this scenario."

"No, it's not Asgard, that's my lunch."

"It's a metaphor. Just hang in there."

" I want that salad."

"I understood that this dish was your preference."

Mobius replied, raising an eyebrow, "Last time, that didn't stop you from adding salt, pepper and whatever else to it to prove your theory. With a metaphor that by the way was at least as bad as the dagger one..."

"Hey, I was right anyway, well about the salad not the dagger..."

Mobius gave him a knowing smile. He had seen the conversation between Loki and Sylvie.

"Love is a dagger." Loki made appear a dagger before continuing, "It's a weapon to be wielded far away or up close. You can see yourself in it. It's beautiful. Until it makes you bleed. But ultimately, when you reach for it…"

Loki offers the hilt to Sylvie. She reaches to take it, but the dagger disappears.

"It isn't real."

"It's real."

"It is, yes," Loki replied, then kissed him tenderly before walking away. As he closed the door, however, he threw out in a serious tone, "Don't forget to eat your salad."

Mobius smiled at his words, who would have thought his lover had a mother-hen side?

3.

"A planet where it rains all the time! Guys... remind me to put this on the checklists of things to verify before teleporting to a planet: 'Check the weather.'"

Mobius had just passed the time-door, soaked like a drowned rat. They had been on a mission to search for someone on an unknown planet where apparently there was only one sort of weather :  rain.

He hated it, his suit was sticking to his skin and he was starting to feel the wetness and cold penetrate his bones. He could not hold back a shiver.

Suddenly he saw a green light enveloping him from head to toe.

Little by little the feeling of cold and dampness disappeared and was replaced by a feeling of warmth and comfort. He was now dry.

He looked up to see Loki coming towards him, as a last green swirl faded from his hands.

Loki stopped in front of him, "I have a feeling that this mission was a pain in the ass, right?"

Mobius replied, "You know my love of rain."

Then he stopped, waved his hand to show himself, and added, "Thanks for that."

Mobius was always pleasantly surprised by Loki's little attention, but even more so by the fact that it showed how well he knew and cared about Mobius.

Unfortunately they were in one of the most crowded hallways of the TVA so Mobius couldn't show his appreciation as he would have if they were in the privacy of their apartment. However, he couldn't help but touch Loki and put his hand on his arm, squeezing lightly and said again in a gentle tone, "Thank you, really."

Loki replied with the same smile by simply nodding and placing his hand on Mobius’ hand, he said gently, "My pleasure, for you, always."

4.

Mobius was staring at the papers in his hands, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He was about to do something, to write something, but he couldn't remember.

"Mobius? Since when do you bring home work."

Loki's voice as he entered their living room pulled Mobius from his thoughts. He blinked his eyes. "I have to finish this, and I'd rather finish it here." He mumbled, his voice hoarser than usual.

Loki said to him in a slightly annoyed tone, "Did you hear your raspy voice? Did you see your face? You better get some rest."

"I absolutely must finish this."

"Really? When you seem to be having trouble even keeping your eyes open?", Loki insisted.

"I'm fine," Mobius replied.

Exasperation was now evident in Loki's voice, "Only you believe it. Even your colleagues have noticed!"

"I'm fine!"

"Mobius," Loki sighed.

"I'm fine," Mobius repeated. "Just let me fin-..."

A coughing fit interrupted him. He coughed so hard it felt like his lungs were being torn apart.

"That's enough," Loki said in a voice that had no return.

Loki took his file out of his hands, grabbed Mobius' hands, made him stand up and pulled him behind him.

"Hey! Loki!"

Loki ignored him and pulled him towards their room.

"Loki!" Mobius coughed violently again. He felt exhausted all of a sudden and feeling himself spinning, he clung to Loki's hand.

"Mobius, you're burning up!" exclaimed Loki in a panicked tone.

Mobius shivered, as if to confirm what Loki had just noticed. "Are you cold?"

"Yes, and warm."

Loki carefully sat him down on their bed. "The important thing is to get your love fever down, okay?"

He helped him put on his pajamas with gentle touches and carefully laid him down under the blanket.

Mobius' eyes were still open and he suddenly saw Loki in his Jotun form.

"Loki? Did you just transform or am I having a gorgeous hallucination."

Loki chuckled affectionately, "Oh love, only you would call me a gorgeous hallucination when I have this form. But no, it's real. Do you trust me?"

"Even with a raging fever, yes and even unconditionally."

Loki smiled again, and went to join him. He laid behind Mobius, and wrapped his arms around him, without putting too much strength into it, and put one of his cool hands on his forehead.

Mobius breathed a sigh of relief, "Ahhh that feels good. Thank you my love." then he felt himself being swept away by exhaustion, only aware of the cool sensation around him

He woke up a few hours later, much better than before. Loki was still wrapped around him. He turned around and noticed that Loki had returned to his normal appearance.

"You've joined the living world?" asked Loki with a smile.

"Thanks to you," Mobius replied in a still hoarse voice, running a finger over Loki's face before continuing, " No longer blue?"

Loki was surprised at Mobius' almost disappointed expression. He was still a little unsettled by the fact that Mobius loved his Jotun appearance as much as his current one.

"The fever has dropped enough."

Mobius moved a little closer and pressed a tender kiss to his lips.

"Thank you for having taken care of me, Sweetheart."

Loki put a kiss on his nose before replying, "I assure you that the pleasure was all mine love."

5.

Mobius dreamed of Ravonna, of her face at the moment she said, "Prune him" without hesitation and he disappeared.

That's when he woke up as he often does, sweating and gasping for breath. He ran his hands over his body, just to make sure he was there and alive. His chest ached under the rapid beating of his heart.

Mobius, still in his nightmare, struggled at first against Loki's comforting hands and warm voice, unable to calm his breathing that threatened to cause panic. He made a move to escape, but Loki's fingers caught his wrist before he could go anywhere.

Once Mobius let go, Loki brought their heads together, cradling him, their noses almost touching until Mobius' breathing slowly returned to normal

Mobius kept repeating, "I don't want to disappear, I want to live." and Loki would nod and whisper words of comfort and reassurance in return.

After a few minutes, Loki asked softly, "Mobius, do you want me to erase these images from your mind? I wouldn't erase the memory, only the residue of your nightmare."

Mobius tightened his arms around Loki and nodded, "Yes... please..."

He put his fingers on Mobius' temple and closed his eyes, concentrating on the images he was sending into Mobius' mind, images of beaches, jet skis, sun and warmth.

Then Loki squeezed him and Mobius buried his head further into Loki's chest and, in a hushed tone, he heard Loki suggest that he concentrate on the slow, loud sound of his heartbeat.

Mobius let himself be lulled by the soft beat as Loki's hands now caressed his hair. He vaguely heard Loki's voice whisper something, "It only beats for you."

Before he could respond, sleep claimed him, and this time filled with dreams of warmth and love

+1

"Oh Mobius, you're bleeding," Loki said, taking a deep breath as the wizard entered the living room. It was late at night, Mobius had been on a mission that had lasted much longer than expected.

Loki approached him, "Let me see."

Mobius turned away and protested, "No, I'm going to put on a little bandage in the bathroom and I'll be fine.."

Loki replied, "Don't be stupid, let me take care of you before you spill your blood all over the apartment."

"What a drama queen!"

"Hey!"

Mobius, obediently sat down on the couch. With calm and sure hands, Loki carefully turned Mobius' arms from side to side and was relieved to find only a superficial cut. A moment later, he returned with compresses, disinfectant and a bandage.

Sitting down next to Mobius, he took the arm in one hand and began to clean the cut with the disinfectant.

Mobius hummed at the relief the treatment brought him, after enduring the rubbing of his shirt all day. He closed his eyes under the pleasant sensation.

"My poor love," Loki said in a low voice, "does it hurt?"

"I've had worse," Mobius replied. He heard Loki soak another compress, then felt it on his arm again, Loki methodically cleaning the cut again.

"I know that, but that doesn't mean you don't have the right to talk about your pain."

A moment later, Mobius felt Loki's fingers on his face, his thumb gently caressing his cheek. His lover's face was so close that he could feel his breath on his lips.

As his fingers left his face, Mobius opened his eyes again.

He watched as Loki grabbed the bandage and began to wrap it around his arm. When he finished, Loki set everything aside on the coffee table and pulled Mobius with him to the couch.

They sat in silence for a while, one against the other with Mobius' injured arm around Loki's shoulders after Loki made sure it didn't hurt.

"Do you know what my mother used to do when I got hurt as a child?" he asked Mobius, and without waiting for an answer continued, "she would kiss on my wound and tell me it would help the healing."

Mobius could hear the tender, wistful tone as he did every time Loki spoke of his mother.

"My wound is well treated now, but I wouldn't mind a kiss." replied Mobius with a teasing tone.

"You know I would do anything to make you feel better, my love." With that Loki turned to him, "Let me kiss it better." Then he leaned over Mobius and kissed him gently.

And not surprisingly, Mobius felt much better.

_______

As always, bear with me as it is not beta'd I hope you enjoyed it 🥰

#lokius fic #lokius #loki #loki series #mobius m. mobius #moki #wowki #time husbands #timefrost #jotun Loki #Magic #caring #5 + 1 things

[lustbile-archive]

Freak

MarkxReader

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary/Warnings: Based off of Freak by Doja Cat

because Mark listens to doja cat and doja cat put freak on spotify and both of these things did a lot for me personally.

Smut, but also some angst and fluff.

Warning! Switch!Mark and Switch!Reader, jealousy, unhealthy relationship and reactions, reader is kind of dramatic ngl, and like a daddy kink for like 2 seconds. I really just wanted to write a smut based off the song but somewhere along the way it developed a plot. The song also uses ‘girl’ but as per usual this fic does not use gendered pronouns (also I would put a read more on this but I don’t have my laptop so I’m so sorry)

“Is it too tight?” you try not to laugh as you whisper in his ear, your lips brushing against his skin making a shiver wrack his body and his hips cant upwards.

You bite back a whimper when the bulge pressing against the fabric of his jeans bumps into the seat of your underwear, a devious and satisfied grin pulling on his lips before he responds, “just tight enough baby.”

He tugs roughly at the cuffs that lock him to the head of your bed to prove his claim, the dull metal denting his skin. You had only asked to be nice, the irritation that swirled in your belly fed the evil little monster in your mind that screamed, ‘I don’t care about you Mark. I hope it hurts.’

Truly, you never would want to hurt Mark, unless it turned him on obviously, but unintentionally? Never. But where you sat straddling his lap and he laid shirtless and restrained below you, you can’t help but itch in anger and jealousy. A need to make him hurt as much as you wouldn’t admit out loud that he hurt you.

You had met Mark through mutual friends, and it wasn’t too far into the night that you realized you were hooked onto the grinning boy, an evil need to see what he could offer clawing at your skin. You ignored the concerned lingering looks your friends passed you when they noticed your interest, and you definitely ignored your best friend when she tried to discreetly mention that Mark may be a little too soft hearted for your shenanigans, too puppy like to keep up with what you liked to do. You were absolutely giddy as you watched the wide eyed pretty boy laugh and grin at the conversation amount at the group, and you were even giddier when his face flushed a deep red when your eyes met in response to your foot brushing his leg under the table.

Every time your eyes met that night, you’d offer a less than sweet smile. One time even adding a gentle wave of your fingers when you caught him staring. Excitement finally flooded your veins when you motioned to the exit of the small bar your friends had gathered at, and he gulped and nodded in response.

So no, you didn’t listen to your friend, and to hit the nail in the coffin, you drug Mark into the backseat of her car. She had very politely agreed to be the designated driver of the night, and you very nicely returned the favor by stuffing your mouth full of the nice boy she warned you to leave alone while you sat snuggly on his face. The evidence of your terrible listening skills left across both of your chins, and even some drops left on her upholstery.

No one seemed to notice your absence when you crawled back into your seats, or the way Mark wouldn’t stop licking his lips throughout the night. Every time his tongue peaked from between his lips making warmth tingle between your thighs.

Your friend figured it out. Of course she did, when she found your panties stuffed under her passenger seat and a few suspicious dried spots on the seats, and of course she gave you an ear full. ‘Mark is too sweet for this,’ and ‘you can’t play with him like this, he’ll start to feel something.’ Her words only passed over your head. You're an adult, and so is Mark, so it’s not like what you were doing was bad. The disappointment shaking of her head was the only response you got when you told her this, and all she got was a roll of your eyes.

So no, you didn’t leave Mark alone. Far from it actually. You found yourself magnified to his side whenever your friends gathered, childish grins shared between you two at the knowing of what would happen later that night, and you even wormed your way into his life outside of your friend gatherings. His boyish charms, and the warmth he offered brought you back to him every time, and not to mention the way he could use his tongue. Sometimes you two even revisited the back seat setting of your first meeting when your friend shot you one too many warning glares and you wanted to prove a point.

And maybe you shouldn’t have told him that you don’t date. ‘I don’t really do relationships,’ you whispered into the thick air of his room as you lay naked next to him, your head laying on his shoulder as his fingers brush your skin. You ignore the way his chest deflated at your words, assuming it was just his breath relaxing, and instead focus on his acknowledging hum and the quiet, ‘yeah, um.. me neither,’ he mutters. Those words being the last of the night before you fell unconscious, warm and naked in his sheets.

No maybe, you definitely should have never said that. Not when you could already feel the boy clawing out a nest in your heart and building a home. Not when you could feel your body light up whenever you found him amongst the crowd of your friends. Not when you found yourself enjoying the time spent tucked into his side just as much as you enjoyed the time that you were stuffed full of him. But you only realize this when you see him standing with her.

“I don’t see the problem,” you friend brushes off your grumbling question of ‘why is he with her’ with her hand swatting at the air, “it’s not like you were going to date him anyways. All you do is play games.”

You feel your face heat up at her words, anger and a tinge of embarrassment stinging your nerves, “but still,” you dumbly respond, no other words forming from your irritation.

“But still what?” she finally turns to lock her eyes on you, “I told you not to mess with him. Mark Lee is a boyfriend guy. He wants to be in a relationship so bad he can’t stand it.”

“That’s not what he told me,” you bite back, a petulant attitude filling every space inside of you.

“Of course it’s not, what like he’s gonna scare off the best lay of his life by admitting he’s a hopeless romantic?” her eyes go wild as she tries to reason with you, a task she’s not very unfamiliar with, “you might be a great fuck, but you’re also incredibly dense.”

You feel your chest cave at her words. The reality check squeezing your heart in sharp claws. The only small comfort you get is the small smile of pity she offers when you begin to resemble a kicked puppy.

“Just talk to him about it some other time, or if you really want to know what I think, just leave him alone and forget about it,” she puts down her now empty glass to free her hand to pet at your arm, her warmed palms making you melt slightly, “just don’t do anything stupid please.”

But of course you have to do something stupid, if you didn’t it just wouldn’t make sense. So you pull yourself away, a quiet, ‘I’m gonna get a drink,’ falling from you pouting lips as you turn away. An uninvited grin momentarily breaking your moodiness when she swats at your butt in encouragement.

And you do head towards the table covered in drinks, but unfortunately Mark and the mystery girl had moved themselves right into the path you had to take to get there. The smile he offers when your eyes meet feels like a punch to a chest, the small wave and a bubbly ‘hi’ chilling your skin.

If you were a real adult you’d smile, nod, and keep walking. Maybe trying to talk to him in the morning, or taking the advice you’d been handed and just end what you had with him before it got any worse, but you weren’t a real adult. A jealous child that had their favorite toy taken by a sweet girl that didn’t know it had your name scratched into it was hiding in the shell that was your body, and that child started to break your shell when instead your face twisted up in a grimace. You make sure not to let your eyes fall on the girl next to him, she hadn’t done anything and you didn’t want to start something with a stranger, but after a dramatic eye roll, you locked a harsh glare on the boy.

He jerks back as if your stare was a sharp knife digging into his stomach, a flash of confusion and hurt landing on his face. His mouth gapes open to question your attitude, but there’s no time for words to escape him before your turning and heading towards the exit.

It’s as if the room is suddenly filled with dozens of more people than there were before you saw him. Elbows and shoulders hitting you as you move through the ocean of bodies, every contact on your skin sparking your irritation up by a few degrees as you start to get overwhelmed by the activity around you. Being touched felt like a demon was dancing around your shoulders to see how much he could get on your nerves, to see how much he could push you until you made a bad decision.

The cold air that hits you when you get outside turns your stomach, your nails clawing into the railing of the house’s porch in an attempt to calm your breathing and cool the fire burning in your belly.

You wanted to be angry when you heard you name coming from his lips, but the concern in his voice and the warmth of his hand running against your back makes you melt in both happiness that he followed you and shame at how that made you feel.

“What’s up? Are you okay?” he asks and you decide then that you don’t want sympathy. You wanted every other part of him all to yourself and if that wasn’t realistic, then you might as well take what you know you could get.

You turn faster than he expected as he jumps slightly as you move in his arms. Your fingers immediately grab the collar of his shirt to pull him closer, your nose pressing into his as he grabs at your hips to steady himself.

“I need you Mark,” your sudden whiny tone throwing him off from what he had witnessed in the house. You tug on his shirt and pout up at him in a way that, no matter what the situation, has made him give you exactly what you wanted, “please?”

“Um.. yea- yeah okay,” he shakes his head to clear his thoughts, a small smile pulling on his lips, “are you sure? You’re good right?”

“Yeah,” you lie, as you move to press your mouth along his jaw to avoid making any more eye contact, “just need to get fucked real bad.”

The laugh that shakes his chest feels like nails being pressed into your heart.

The drive to your house was used to plot your revenge, and maybe your last time having Mark to yourself. You had pulled him away from someone else tonight, but how many more times could you do that before he decided he didn’t want to be pulled anymore? Your friend had said he was a boyfriend type, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he sees you as someone to date.

And that's how you got where he laid now. You barely gave him time to park before you were jumping out of his car and stomping to your front door. Your quick strides made him have to pick up his pace behind you, only just getting his foot in the door before it slammed in his face.

You only glanced behind you as he locked the door behind him. You voice cold as you walk to your bedroom as you command, “take off your shirt.”

You heard him fumbling behind you as you strip to your underwear and climb onto your bed and once he had walked through the doorway everything was a blur.

Your nails dig harshly into the skin of his chest as you sit up, a small smile pulling on your lips when he whimpers out from the pain. You run your hands up and down the skin of his stomach as you take in his form, trying to memorize every inch below you. You feel your breath deepen as you move over the boy that’s ruled the space of your mind for so long.

“C‘mon sweetheart,” he encourages, your eyes falling shut when his voice wraps around your bones, “do something to me.”

The quickness of your response is almost embarrassing, as you sit back on his hips. Your fingers grip tightly onto his belt when his bulge digs into your core, the rough fabric of his jeans sending you reeling. Your shoulders shift forward and your thighs tense as you begin to slowly rock against him.

You whimper as pleasure runs up your spine, your arousal already beginning to seep into the fabric of your underwear and dampening his jeans as you move desperately on him.

It’s always been this way since the first time you had each other. Your mean attitude melts once you're on top of him, even when he’s locked up the way he is now. Even with the upper hand he’s still made his claim on your heart and you’d do anything to please him. But that doesn’t stop you from loving to watch him squirm.

“Fuck Mark,” your words are raspy as they leave you mixed with a groan. Your hips rapidly rutting against him as your body craves the type of orgasm that only the boy below you has been able to pull from you.

“Move down to my thigh,” he demands, his hips tilting upward to try to get you to move away, “wanna watch you come on my thigh before I'm inside you.”

You shake your head defiantly as your hips start moving in circles, your clit meeting the spot where his tip presses into the fabric and making you tremble and moan.

“Mm fuck,” his hips lift off the bed to match your pace, this and the way his teeth digs into his lip and the fact that he refuses to say the safe word you two agreed on is all you need to keep continuing, “fuck stop I don’t want to come in my pants.”

“Then don’t,” you sneer as you slow your hips to press harder into him. You both moan in the stuffy air that fills the room, the promise of an orgasm finally starting to bite at your skin.

“I can’t stop it when you’re acting like this,” he pleads and swears loudly as you continue your motions. His conflicting emotions of wanting to hold off but also wanting to come so badly showing blatantly on his pretty face, “fuck you’re always so mean when you’re in control.”

“Deal with it, you wouldn’t come back if you didn’t like it,” your words are punctuated with a throaty groan as you start to come. The muscles in your stomach flexes as you clench hard around nothing. Your body shakes as you fall forward, you palms lying flat on his stomach to hold you up as it feels like you’re being ripped at the seams. The static in your brain almost fully blocks out the irritated swearing you hear from below you and loud metallic sound that follows.

You can’t stop the scream you let out when you’re suddenly pressed face down into your sheets, your ass pressed back into his crotch as his harsh fingers curl around your hips. Your body still shakes in aftershocks and makes your head feel like it’s filled with water.

“I told you to move to my thigh,” he voice is rough, but not truly angry as he sits up behind you. He shoves his thigh between your legs to make a point, the friction from his jeans digging into the sensitive skin of your core makes you whimper as he uses his hands to pull you back and forth on the length of his thigh, “why don’t you ever fucking listen to me?”

“Don’t act like you don’t like it,” you bite back. Your nails claw into the sheets below you as you move with his hands. The pleasure and the pace of everything happening around you melts your brain as you speak before you can stop yourself, “if you didn’t you would have stayed with that girl from the party instead of coming back with me.”

He stops moving once your words reach his ears, his fingers massaging your skin the only part of him that moves as he lets the sentence move through his mind. You cringe at the realization of what you said and at the feeling of his nails scraping your skin as he pulls one hand away.

“Are you by any chance jealous sweetheart?” you hurry your face into the mattress in shame, your ears perking up only when you hear the clicking noise of his belt and the sharp sound of his zipper being pulled down.

You hum into the fabric pressed to your face as you sink further down towards the bed at being caught having feelings like this.

You hear the cracking sound of his hand meeting your skin before you feel it, the dull throbbing pain spreading as the seconds tick. You do feel your body jump in response and more arousal begin to drip from your body.

You loudly whine in protest when his fingers gently wrap around your neck and pull you up to press against his chest, and once your face is placed next to his, he places a soft kiss on your cheek.

“Answer me baby,” his thumb runs circles into the skin protecting your jugular making you melt back into him, “were you or were you not jealous tonight.”

“Yes,” you admit, placing your pride in a wood chipper.

“Yes what?” you impatiently grunt at the question, but can’t help but love the way he’s playing with you.

“Yes daddy,” you punctuate with a roll of your eyes.

“You shouldn’t be,” he continues to press soft kisses across your skin as his body warms every inch of you. His tone is full of patience making you calm and dazed in his hold, “I’m all yours.”

You yelp, as once he’s finished speaking, he simultaneously digs his teeth into the skin of your jaw and shoves himself fully inside of you. You scratch at his arm as you flutter around him in an attempt to adjust at the sudden intrusion.

You can feel your tongue moving as you plead into the air, but when he begins thrusting into you all the sounds are formed into one mass in your mind and your toes painfully curl. His hips smacking into your skin and the way he makes you stretch around your eyes roll back.

“That’s right,” the steady tone he holds as he knocks into you is almost unnerving as you begin to ragdoll in his hold, “and this little jealous streak you have going makes me think you belong to me just as much as I belong to you.”

He shifts on his knees in search of a better angle, and once he hears your breath pick up he knows he’s found it deep inside you. The way you crumble against him makes him wear a mean grin.

“All mine aren’t you?” he sounds far too proud of himself for your liking. There’s a beat of silence before his open palm lands harshly once again on the tingly skin of your ass, “aren’t you?”

“Yes Mark,” you spit out before you begin gnawing on your lip. Tears form across your water line as once the words finally leave you, he rewards you by moving to press his calloused fingers against your clit.

Incoherent words spill from you as you jerk against him, but he only laughs in response. He immediately starts moving tight circles against the buzzing skin, enjoying the way your chest moves from the way your body arches away from him, your nipples pressing against the thin fabric of your bralette making his brain go haywire.

“You need to come baby,” his voice is gruff and strained as he bosses you, finally showing the way your so tightly wrapped around him is affecting him, “after the little game you played earlier, I’m not gonna last long. You know that don’t you? That’s why you did it?”

“No Mark, I promise,” you shake your head as you grind against his fingers, a second orgasm looming over your head.

“Now don’t start lying to me now, you evil little thing,” you can feel yourself start to shake and your legs start to tingle as he whispers his taunts in your ear, “come for me.”

His fingers, his words, and the way he splits you apart pushes you flying over the edge. Your orgasm floods your veins as you clench harshly around him, the pleasure rocketing up your spine and making you cry out.

The way you wrap around him as you come, makes his hips stutter as he begins to come. He lets out a long groan into your ear and the sound and the feeling of him releasing warm and thick inside you makes your hands reach back to desperately grab at his hips. His fingers speed up as he comes, his orgasm making his brain too foggy to register that he’s elongating your orgasm until it’s bordering on painful.

His adrenaline subsides as he releases the last bit of come inside you, making his balance falter as he collapses both of you to the bed. He’s conscious enough to move his hand from your throat, and instead moves it to pet your face in an attempt to sooth you.

He’s still deep inside of you as he presses his chest against your back to curl around you. His heated breath hitting your face as he uses your face as a pillow as both of your breaths even out. You feel his knee push between your legs, and it feels like your muscles have been turned to jello.

It feels like decades before he finally whispers, almost like he’s afraid that speaking too loud would scare you away, “I didn’t know you’d be jealous.”

“Stop,” you cringe at how sinscere he sounds.

“No we need to talk about it,” his arm wraps around your ribcage and pulling you closer, wanting to make sure you feel safe before entering the conversation.

“I never thought about how you were feeling, so I really never expected you to get jealous over something like that, so I’m sorry.”

“Mark stop,” you don’t think when your hands falls to lace your fingers with his, “I’m the one who overreacted and got jealous over something that wasn’t my business. You shouldn’t be apologizing.”

“But I want to,” he shifts onto his elbow to peer down at you, the emotion behind his eyes scaring you, “if you got that jealous, that means you were clearly feeling something deeper that I wasn’t noticing, and considering how strongly I feel about you, it’s disappointing that I didn’t notice.”

“What do you mean how strongly you feel?” the insecurity in your tone makes your stomach turn, but you need to know.

“I like you a lot,” he sighs deeply once the words are out in the open, “and I have since we met, but when you said you didn’t do relationships I convinced myself that I couldn’t lose you so I just agreed. It was stupid, but I really change your mind if I just stuck around.”

“You did though,” you hand mindlessly moves to grab onto his ear, your fingers kneading the cartalidge and making him shiver, “I like you too, and I should have told you but I was being a brat about the idea of actually liking someone.”

“Oh so we‘re both dumb hm?” he teased leaning into your touch, the fondness behind his eyes making warmth spread across your chest.

“Yeah but I think we already knew that.”

“True,” he lays back down to wrap himself around you and press his mouth tightly against yours momentarily, “also that girl was only a classmate. You got jealous for nothing.”

“Nothing is an understatement,” you groan in embarrassment, “we never defined what we were, there was no reason for me to get wound up like that.”

“If I had just gotten the nerve to tell you that I wanted a relationship you never would have gotten wound up.”

“We really are both dumb,” your blank tone pulls a boyish laugh from him, making him smile and press kisses across you skin.

“You wear me out you know that?” you grin up at him, batting your eyelashes in a way that would read as innocent if you weren’t tangled together in the way you were.

You lean up slightly, crowding his space with your breath, before running your tongue over the seam of his slightly parted mouth, “like you’re not obsessed with it.”

He darts forward, catching you lips in his and making you squeal both from shock and the feeling of him slipping out of you from his movements. He circles your body with his arms and pulls you to lay on top of him.

“You know I’ve never met anyone like you,” you squirm against him, not actually trying to get anywhere just to annoy him a bit. Your legs fall to the sides to straddle him, reminding you of the way the series of events that happened in your bed tonight started. You squeak and pout when he digs his teeth into the skin of your jaw to still you as you keep shifting, “and I don’t think I ever will.”

“Same to you Mark. You’ve ruined me.”

#nct smut #mark smut #mark lee smut #nct imagines #mark imagine #nct fanfic #mark fanfic #nct oneshot #mark oneshots

[babykatsu]

𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙮𝙢𝙤𝙪𝙨

PAIRING: Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader

STATUS: ongoing

RATING: sfw

GENRE: smau, crack, lil bit of angst, aged up, fluff

WORDCOUNT: 2k

WARNINGS: mentions of romantic relations, kissing, honestly just fluff.

15: 𝙞 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙤𝙤

↲ previous next ↳

AUTHORS NOTE:

AAAAAAAA FINALLY!!! the long awaited moment🥺🥺🥺 UGH i love soft katsu sooo soooo soooo muchh🥰 i hope you guys enjoy this part!

Unfamiliar faces swarmed you, hustling and bustling to their destinations as you stupidly stood in a corner eyeing the scene unravel. Eyes darting across every individual that passed, nervously hoping to see the all too familiar blonde-haired boy emerge from the crowd. But just as much as you wanted to spot him in the train station filled with strangers, you couldn’t help the anxious feeling that burnt at the pit of your stomach.

You were beyond nervous, heart racing and mouth dry at the mere thought of the meet up with Bakugou. But more so, you were excited at the prospect. You’d been talking to him on a friendly bases for a while, maybe even more than just friends, and because of that, you came to your senses to forgive him.

Maybe you were being just a tad bit dramatic after all, but you needed to let your emotions out when you were hit with the news. The news of the person behind the 'anonymous' boy you were texting day in and day out.

You brushed these thoughts aside however at this moment, eyes still searching for the explosive boy in the body of people. Occasionally glancing at your phone to check the time.

“He should be here by now” you quirky mumbled to yourself, monitoring your phone for the million times in the past few minutes.

You felt a mix of enthusiasm and nervousness seeping through you as you awaited his arrival. Mouth desert, palms somewhat sweaty and body tense as you stood idle.

You finally looked back up again from your phone, taking another gander around the crowd. Eyes grounding on someone with a vibrant orange puffer jacket. And that’s exactly when your heart abruptly dropped at the sight of him. His vermillion eyes beaming through the plain crowd. It wasn’t just his red orbs that stood out, it was his god damn obnoxious jacket.

He looked clueless as his eyes flew around the station and its cluster of people. You had to put all your nerves at ease and approach him yourself. Unlike him, you wore a less vibrant outfit so you doubted he would spot you.

You took eager steps in his direction, getting more excited as you came closer to him. One step, two steps, three steps. Space between you two grew slimmer. With a sudden spin of his head in your direction, your eyes met. Slowing down, you gave him an innocent smile. And when he was finally just a meter away from you, A buzz of emotion shot through as an unexpected urge to leap in for a hug washed over you. So you do just that, wrapping your arms swiftly around his waist and resting your head against his chest.

There was a pause for a moment before he hugged you back. Your actions were slightly shocking to him after all. Not only because you were mad at him just the other day, but there’s no denying it’s rare for a person to be this daring to go in for an embrace with him. Either way, once he snaked his arms around you, he hugged you tightly. He held you as though he would never get this chance again, swaying side to side in each other's embrace. No words said between the two of you as you just bathed in one another's company.

You took this moment to take in his being: the woody cologne that drenched his body, the warmth of his body against yours and the rhythmic beating of his heart. To think this was the boy you once knew and hated in high school was absurd.

Bakugou, on the other hand, was in a state of complete shock. First of all, you looked absolutely gorgeous. The way your clothes fit you so well, the way your hair carefully shaped your face, even the delicate scent that surrounded you had him swooning. But most of all, the way you felt wrapped around him gave him a rare fluttering feeling. He was in perplexed and confused as to how you could make him feel this way. He knew he liked you before but being with you in this very moment only enhanced his feelings.

You held onto each other for a short while before pulling away, Bakugou's face glazed in a soft pinky blush.

"Someone's excited" you giggle, examining every intricate facial feature.

"Speak for yourself, dumbass. I'm not the one jumping onto people"

His response to you was followed by a cocky smirk, his blush fading as his confidence blossomed. This time you were the one slightly flustered, commemorating the actions you took simply seconds ago. Pushing his shoulder gently with the palm of your hand, you wave his comment off with a light giggle. You heard his raspy laugh escape his rosy lips, as you teased him back. It was by far the most unexpected occurrence that day. His laugh was so foreign, it swarmed butterflies in your stomach. If only he laughed more often...

"So, what's the plan?" You question him.

It was a little past 4 pm, and you weren't quite sure what Bakugou was plotting with this last-minute meetup. Maybe he didn't even have a plan, to begin with.

"This is your side of town, not mine" He starts, shoving his hands in his pockets as he began taking gradual steps towards the station's exit. "Want to tell me where I could treat you to something" he gave you a small smile as he turned to look back at you, waiting for you to catch up with him.

His generosity didn't go unnoticed, and you surely were blown away by his offer.

"Katsuki- don't buy me anything!" You protest as you leave the station.

The light gushes of wind blew against your skin softly, the evening air settling in as night leisurely approached.

"Don't be an idiot, I'm buying you something regardless"

You were impressed, to say the least with this offer and certainty when it came to getting you something.

"Hmm, I'm craving lychee bubble tea as well. Don't get too excited" And there he goes again being his usual asshole self trying to hide his soft side for you.

You just laughed at his comment, amused by his childish tendencies when it came to his emotions.

"Whatever you say, you big baby"

There were a handful of places where you could purchase boba tea, so you scanned your surroundings for the nearest cafes. It took you a moment to spot a cafe. But once you did, you leaned against Bakugou and smoothly wrapping your arm around his in excitement.

"Look, over there" You pointed at a small cafe across the road.

As you dropped subtle flirts Bakugou's way, his whole syst5em was gooing off at the contact between you two. It's not like he hadn't been like this with someone before, but you being the one part taking in such actions made him lose composure.

"You like that cafe?" He made sure as you gave him a nod of reassurance before walking towards the cafe.

You spent the next hour in there, giggling and indulging in the drinks he purchased. It was unexpected how well your conversation flowed, how natural it all felt. Not to mention his subtle caring nature towards you. It wasn't entirely obvious at first glance, but well hidden in his mannerism.

Like for example, not even for a moment did he swerve his attention away from you, always engaged in the conversations you shared. Even when you were rambling about the most stupid of things. Or even the way he would fix a crease in your shirt, removing the random lint that clung onto the cotton fabric of your shirt and even wiping a bit of tea that somehow managed to land on the corner of your mouth due to your constant rambling.

All these seemingly meaningless actions gave you goosebumps as he did them without hesitation or comment like it was something natural to do. Keeping in mind you weren't on the best terms during your time in high school.

It was safe to say that he had truly improved as a person and god did you love it. Spending time together in a tiny cafe made you see just how much you liked him after all.

Sadly as much as you wanted to spend more time with him, your time was limited.

You walked hand in hand with blonde, his thumb gently stroked you as your fingers intertwined. You took a diversion back home, walking through an empty park with the perfect view of the sunset ahead of you. The gentle honey-coloured sky painted the trees in its warm hue. In contrast, the wind had picked up and shivers trickled down your spine.

"I had a lot of fun" You smiled his way, glancing at his side profile as you walked down cobbled pathway.

You watched the smirk growing on his face, stopping in his tracks to look over at you. The sunset cast a delicate glow across his face, a gentle orange tint reflecting on his ruby eyes as he locked his eyes with yours.

"Me too. I just want to say sorry once more"

Knitting your brows together, you gave him a confused expression.

"You've apologised for enough, I promise" you shoot him another smile, his arms dropping to hang around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"If anything, I should say sorry for how I reacted" He snarled at your response.

"Don't be an idiot y/n. You don't need to say sorry or anything" a tight squeeze was given as he held you tighter now.

"But I do!"

"Just shut up" he gave you breathy grin, watching you slightly panic at nothing.

As you were about to resume your chattering, he leaned his face closer, his soft lips landing on yours. His lips felt smooth and plump against yours, not daring to move any more, anticipating for you to reciprocate the kiss. And you did just that, fluttering your eyelids shut. Draping your arms around his shoulders, you kissed him back. Your mouths harmonised as you both melted into the kiss, delicately moving. His hands lingered around your waist, one coming up to your face, cupping your cheek in his palm. You could feel the overabundance of emotions that came from him in this very kiss. He held you tightly yet every move he made was with consideration, his lips danced with yours in passion as he deepened the kiss, but never being rough or forceful. If it was even possible, you were falling for him more and more by the second. His delicious caramel taste caressed you as he explored your mouth and your body quivered under his hand's tracks.

Slowly, you both pulled away. Lips glazed and reddened, the breeze cooling them as wind met the moisture that covered them.

"That shut you up?" you could feel his confidence spike once more, the flirty aroma the surrounded you evident.

"Hmmm, I don't know just yet" you pretened to think. "Try again"

He rolled his eyes at you, giving your lips another gentle peck. Capturing your bottom lips between his teeth, tugging at them as he pulled away with a devious smirk. Heat rushed to your face, hearing him laugh at your shocked expression as you buried your face in his chest.

"You can't deny it now, it definitely worked"

He let out a sigh before resuming.

"But on a serious note y/n" He captured your gaze one more as you looked up at him.

"If I didn't make it obvious already, I really fucking like you" You blushed at his confession. "And I don't want this to be the last time we spend time together"

You grinned at him, responding enthusiastically.

"I like you too, I honestly had so much fun tonight"

"Would it be too early to ask you to be my girlfriend?" His cheeks were turning a faint red colour, flustered with his comment.

"Not at all!" You beamed.

"Then you're all mine" He finished off before clutching you tightly in a bear hug, his chin resting atop your head.

Once again, you resumed your walk together towards the station, conversating about random topics and laughing at nonsense. Before you even knew it, you two were back at the station were it all had started. You were going to miss him, already planning the next time you both could see each other again.

"I don't want you to leave" You pouted, going in for one final hug

"I'll see you next week, dumbass"

You jokingly rolled your eyes at him.

You watched him remove his orange jacket, handing the article of clothing to you.

"Thank you, but that's a bit random" you laugh as you take the jacket from him, putting your hands through the armholes.

As you wrap yourself in his jacket, his cologne instantly surrounds you.

"You can keep it until we see each other next" He pecks you lips promptly with a petite smile on his lips.

You exchange in your last goodbyes and the concluded your day with him, rushing home to shoot him a message.

Anonymous was a really effective app when it came to meeting new people for sure...

🏷taglist:

CLOSED

@lov4kbg @maya-ngpirit @bestgirlbeth @plutoxxxworld @loxbbg @senbasa1 @hikari-writes @euwhoriaa @yuiicorn @thegalxe @alienatedhooman @icy-hot @kxmilkahara @h0ngdabiin @chidori-mint @bakubabes-hatake @stuck-1n-space @engel-hageshii @call-me-prodigy @mirakeul @sally-wonders @saturnmoon @nerdynstoned @eraserhead-legal-child @roxybefab @heyimsad @wasteofspace288 @ilovepizzaandimhot @raspberrysunshinebby @wondewdrop @atruebaby @jisnuq @stupidbitchtm @heheheh2547 @ladybeautiful18 @pro-crastinator14 @lolitstiana @queenexplosionmurderr13 @redflannel @simple-things @fxturestargirl @yeehaw87 @kageyamasbabygorl @redandgreenflannel @overallweeb @helloshoutohere @httpglxssy @thetrashyfangirlstuff @shycoffeeparadise

#bakugou #bakugou au #bakugou smau #bakugou fluff #bakugou imagine #bakugo #bakugo au #bakugo smau #bakugo fluff #bakugo imagine #bnh #bnha au #bnha smau #boku no hero #bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #my hero academia #mha #mha au #mha smau

[edens-breathless-melodies-moved]

words: 3.2k

pairing: komori m. x f!reader

prompt: face riding

warnings: cursing, cunninglingus, hair pulling, kaori being crude lmao, slight dom/sub undertones

summary: when komori overhears his girlfriend telling her best friend that she wishes they’d do more than just vanilla sex, who is he to not indulge her?

“what do you mean by “just vanilla” sex?!” kaori exclaimes flabbergasted, completely ignoring the nasty looks from the others customers in the cafe along with you sinking further into your seat in embarrassment.

“kaori!” you half whispered, half shouted in embarrassment, (s/c) cheeks blazing as you quickly turned to apologize on your best friends behalf for the crude outburst.

you turned back in your seat to face her with a huff, glaring at her in annoyance. “i would reallyyyy appreciate it if you didn’t overshare my “lacking” sex life with the rest of the cafe!” you hissed, throwing a crumpled napkin at her in retaliation.

kaori simply plucked it out of the air before it could hit her, much to your dismay. she placed it on her empty plate as she continued to stare at you with a combination of pity, bewilderment, and amusement.

“so you’re telling me,” she drawled, taking a sip from her drink as she watched you squirm under her sharp and judgmental gaze.

“that lover boy only does the basic to get you off, no kinky stuff?” she can only look at you in horror as you nod your head shyly, face still on fire from the topic of the conversation.

suddenly she spits out, “so no choking?” you squeak.

“no!”

“spanking?”

“no!”

“hair pulling?!”

“kaori!”

kaori groans loudly in frustration as you rush to quickly apologize to the other customers again. “c’mon!” she moans tiredly, flopping her chin to rest on her palm as she looks at you.

“hair pulling is the most basic thing i can think of and you guys don’t even do that?!”

“hey! i’m not shitting on you for all the freaky shit you and yukie do so piss off!” you bark back, feeling slightly attacked as you heatedly take another sip of your ice tea, hoping it will calm your nerves.

kaori rolls her eyes before a lecherous thought runs through her head. sighing, she tosses her head back and closes her eyes, raising a hand to press against her forehead. “only because i don’t give you all the full, juicy details!”

she exclaims dramatically, cracking one eye open to see your reaction to her little slip up.

to see if you took the bait.

you paused at her words. ‘full details?’ you think to yourself in slight confusion and mild intrigue. you raise an eyebrow at her, silently telling her to continue.

kaori’s grin turn downright sinister as you take her bait and you immediately begin regretting your life choices.

“i mean,” she drawls. “if i told you everything,” she puts emphasis on everything. “i’m pretty sure i’d put you in an early grave, (y/n)-chan~” she chirps at the end, eyebrows waggling suggestively.

you scoffed, an amused smile quirking your lips as you lean towards your best friend, settling your chin on your intertwined fingers before cocking an eyebrow at her as a challenge.

kaori smirks as she mimicks your pose, raising an eyebrow at your smug smirk in defiance.

“wanna try me? maybe you’ll give me some ideas.”

you taunt as an evil glint appears in kaori’s eyes as she accepts your challenge. “oh ho?” you think you can handle it, (y/n)? once i start, there’s no going back...” she’s trying to give you a way out. cute.

“try me you overgrown owl.”

“it’s on you clipped crow!”

neither of the best friends noticed a certain bushy browed male smile to himself only two booths down from them. he ordered another drink when the waiter passed by and made himself comfortable, having no intent to leave anytime soon.

———————————

“toya, babe! i’m home!” you called out into the apartment, shrugging off your coat and hanging it up before venturing deeper into the apartment.

you and komori motoya have been together for four years, living together for two of them. now both in your second years of college, you guys couldn’t be more happy than you are right now. everything was perfect.

except for the sex.

now don’t get me wrong, the sex was phenomenal. komori always took well care of you, massaging your body and always making sure you had at least one orgasm before he came himself.

it was sweet, passionate, and comfortable.

but that can get old after awhile and sometimes you just wish he would spice things up a bit every now and then, but you were too shy to voice anything and though you love him, he could be a bit dense from time to time.

“hey baby, welcome back! i’m in the kitchen preparing dinner for tonight!” your boyfriend’s playful voice called out from the kitchen and you couldn’t help the warm feeling that settled in your chest.

you walked into the kitchen only to be greeted by the adorable sight of your tall boyfriend in your cute pastel apron, humming to himself as he sliced up the beef that would be going into tonight’s stir fry.

he looked up from the cutting board and when navy eyes meet (e/c), he shined you his million dollar smile before going back to the cutting board. the amount of love you felt for him was making you light headed.

fuck what kaori said, why fix something that isn’t broken? you love komori and he loves you. who gives a fuck about vanilla sex?

komori watched you smile softly at him from the corner of his eye and bit back the smirk that was threatening to escape as you walked behind him to wrap him in a hug, burying your face into his back as you inhaled his cologne.

he couldn’t help but silently fawn at how cute you were, his heart nearly bursting out of his chest when you murmured into his back how you missed him.

finally finishing prepping the meat, he stuck his hands under the sink to rinse them off before wiping them down and turning to face you, wrapping him arms around you in a full hug.

“i missed you too, baby.” he sighs into your hair, burying his nose in it before giving you a quick kiss and pulling you back to he can look into your eyes.

he chuckled in his head as he saw how you peered up at him with doe eyes, a soft smile on your face as you clearly radiated a soft warmth; love.

oh how he was gonna enjoy wiping it off your face and replacing it with wanton desperation instead.

———————————

you sighed happily as you placed your chopsticks besides the now empty bowl of stir fry. “god i forget how good of a cook you are sometimes, babe.” you sigh out as you place your hands on your full stomach, satisfied.

komori let’s out a laugh as he eyes your closed gaze and content grin, lightly shaking his head as he brings your bowls to the sink and sets them aside. he’d wash them later.

right now he had a more important task at hand.

your eyes fly open in shock as you let out a light squeal, your hands flying to clutch your boyfriends shirt as he suddenly picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. ‘geez i forget how buff he is sometimes...’

“toya! what are you doing?” you laugh as he continues to carry you towards your shared bedroom, ignoring your playful cries and smacks to his back as he cheerfully whistles, a smug smirk on his face.

he kicks the bedroom door open and you let out a small screech as he dumps you lightly onto the mattress, bouncing slightly as you continue giggling, face a little pink from his sudden manhandling.

you watch in amusement and intrigue as he turns to walk over and close the door before facing you again with a small smirk, an unfamiliar glint in his eyes as he stares you down on the bed.

a dull ache resonated between your thighs as you gulp nervously, getting a little wound up at the way he was looking down on you. he’s never looked at you like this before, like he was about to eat you up.

“toya? what’s gotten into you?” he stays silent as he begins to walk towards you, his smirk growing as you unconsciously beginning shuffling backwards onto the bed until your back presses firmly against the head board.

your heartbeat is in your throat and the ache between your thighs begins to throb as you watch your sweet, gentle boyfriend crawl onto the bed and settle himself between your thighs, all while not breaking eye contact as he licks his lips. you swear your face could rival the surface of the sun right now.

“sweetheart,” you shiver as he coos his favorite pet name, the one he uses before you guys fuck. his usually playful voice dropped down an octave as he leans close to you, eyes never breaking contact.

he smirks to himself when he sees your eyes nervously dart to his lips before coming back to him, and her certainly doesn’t miss the subtle way your thighs clench together as he places his large hands on top of them, giving the soft flesh a firm squeeze.

“did you have fun at lunch with kaori-chan today?” his question catches you off guard, and you cock your head in confusion. why would he ask about your lunch with kaori?

you stare at him in confusion and his smirk only grows, closing the distance between you until his lips are barely brushing yours. you have to physically fight the urge to just surge forward and connect them and komori notices this, much to your dismay.

“you seemed like you were in a good mood when you came back earlier? did you guys have a good conversation?” he continued to stare you down and it was only when his dexterous fingers came into contact with your clothed crotch that everything finally clicked.

your face immediately erupted into flames and komori couldn’t hold back the genuine laugh as he watched you basically have a mental breakdown in front of him.

“ohhhh my goddddd!” you groaned as you brought your hands to cover your face in embarrassment. “you’re telling me you were there and heard all of that?” you whispered in exasperation as you peeked at him from between your fingers, hoping you weren’t correct.

“i was in there first just grabbing a quick bite to eat, and it’s kinda hard to miss kaori-chan’s voice when she decides to holler whatever she’s thinking.” another groan escaped your lips as komori buried his face in your neck and you felt him smile into your skin.

“so does that mean-?” “that i heard just exactly what you wanted to try with me?” he supplied nonchalantly as he pressed an open mouthed kiss against your neck, relishing in the small whine that escaped your throat.

you held your breath as he pulled away from you, eyes wide with barely contained lust and excitement as he stared you down with that same intensity from earlier.

“that’s a yes, sweetheart.” you gulped as you felt his hand come back to lightly cup your cunt, and you nearly whimpered when he applied more force to it, voice dropping lower as he licked his lips.

“now be a good girl and take your pants off for me, hm?”

———————————

you gulped harshly as you settled yourself just above your boyfriends face, chewing on your bottom lip nervously as he smiled sweetly up at you from between your thighs, blue eyes heavy with lust as he trailed his gaze down to your glistening folds.

you might be feeling nervous about riding your boyfriend’s tongue but your body was clearly ready for it. komori nearly drooled at the sight of your slick cunt, folds practically dripping in arousal and he couldn’t wait to bury his face in and make you cry.

though komori may be all geared up and ready to start the show, you on the other hand we’re having second thoughts.

“i don’t know about this, toya.” you said worriedly, teeth still worrying your bottom lip as you brought a hand down to caress his face. “i don’t wanna accidentally hurt you...”

a gasp escaped your lips as your eyes widened in horror. “oh my god, what if you can’t breathe! or-”

you worried rambling was quickly cut off by a startled moan as komori pulled you down by your thighs and settled you directly onto his mouth. his eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head as he moaned at your taste, the vibrations sending shocks straight to your clit and you moaned again, lightly grinding yourself on his face.

komori gave your clit a small lick before pulling it into his mouth, sucking lightly while flicking his tongue against and his hips bucked into the air when you grabbed onto his hair and pulled, your moans coming out breathy and high.

“that’s it sweetheart,” he groaned into your folds as you continued to rock lightly on his tongue, eyes closed in bliss as you pulled steadily on his light brown locks. “that’s it. now be a good girl and just let me take care of you, yeah?”

“o-oh fuck! toya!” you cried as he began to eat you out earnestly, arms coming around to lock onto your thighs as his tongue lashed against your clit, causing you to scream his name as he pulled it into his mouth to harshly suck on it like candy.

komori was on cloud nine, basking in the way your pillowy thighs wrapped his head like the warmest pair of earmuffs while you continued to spill yourself on his tongue, fingers gripping and tugging his hair deliciously.

you pant as you grind your hips steadily on his face, a small sheen of sweat covering your body as you let out another choked moan when he lightly pressed his tongue into your spasming cunt, as if testing it out.

the wail you let out when he thrusted his entire tongue into you and the grip you had on his hair had you both thinking the same thing-

we should’ve done this earlier.

the cries you were letting out were getting higher and more desperate as komori continued to thrust his tongue into your wet hole, drinking up all the sweet nectar you were spilling onto his tastebuds.

when komori pulled his tongue from you to trail it up to your clit before giving it a light nip you yelped and peered down between your thighs in slight annoyance, only now getting a good look at him.

your breath caught in your throat and your face seemed to burn even brighter at the absolutely wrecked expression of your boyfriend.

his cheeks were tinged red and covered in your essence as he wrapped his lips around your clit and slurped loudly, drawing as much of your nectar into his mouth as possible.

his eyes were shut close and cute thick eyebrows were drawn together in desperation as he moaned heavily into your cunt, thick cock twitching at every moan that escaped your lips.

komori knew you were getting close when you began rocking against his face faster, whimpers increasing in pitch as you practically dripped into his awaiting mouth. he decided to open his eyes and nearly came untouched at the sight above him.

you looked like a goddess above him, (s/c) skin glowing softly from sweating as you clenched your thighs around his head. pink lips were swollen from you digging your teeth into them and beautiful (e/c) orbs locked with his, half lidded and filled with tears as you panted with parted lips, basically begging him to let you come on his tongue.

the heat in your abdomen was reaching a fever pitch when suddenly one of komori’s thick fingers shoved itself into your clenching core, stretching you deliciously as it crooked up to curl directly into the spongey spot on your top wall. you couldn’t breathe.

his eyes were hard on yours as he crooked his finger into your g-spot again. it was like time had stopped when he growled out a deep “come” before pulling your clit into his mouth a final time and sucking harshly that you finally shattered.

a scream ripped from your throat, broken cries of “toya!” and “fuck” echoing throughout the bedroom as you came the hardest you’ve ever came in your life on your boyfriend’s face.

komori didn’t let a single drop to waste, lapping it all up and softly massaging your clit with his tongue as he gently helped you ride out your intense orgasm. it was only when you shakily pulled off of his face and collapsing on the bed next to him that he sat up and peered over your body.

your chest was rising shakily as you pulled in deep breaths, trying to ground yourself from something so mind blowing. blue eyes trailed down from your heaving tits to the mess between your legs, thighs shining weakly in the bedroom light.

another twinge of arousal shot through him and komori was reminded of the throbbing ache in his cock. he never would’ve imagined he would have gotten so worked up from eating you out, but he’s definitely not complaining.

his gaze shifted back to your face when you let out a breathless laugh, eyes still closed as you basked in the afterglow. “there’s no fucking way that’s your first time eating a girl out.”

a deep chuckle sounds off to your right as you feel the bed shift underneath his weight as komori moves closer to you. “you’re right, it’s not.” he muses, and you swear you can see how smug he is without even having to look at him.

just as your about to throw a half-baked retort at him something hard and hot nudges against your cheek and your eyes fly open in alarm, only to be met with the tantalizing view of your boyfriend hovering over you to your right, his thick and heavy cock lightly nudging your cheek.

“but it is the first time i’ve ever had such a gorgeous girl ride my face before.” he smirks down at you, taking in your flushed expression as he lightly taps his cock against your cheek again.

a sharp hiss leaves his lips as his face drops in pleasure when you press a small kiss against his tip before giving it light kitten licks, eyes never leaving his.

another smirk makes its way to lips as he throws his right leg over your body, nestling his thighs around your head as you stare up at him in shock and poorly contained lust.

he groans deep in his throat when you take his tip fully into your mouth, tongue massaging just underneath the head. a small smile stretches komori’s pink lips before his hand comes down to caress your check, very reminiscent of the same way you did to him earlier.

you moan when he lightly thrusts his hips forward, sinking more of his cock into your tight mouth with a moan of his own. “now,” he pants lightly, gazing down at you with lust and love swirling in those beautiful blue eyes as he recalls another piece of your earlier conversation.

“be a good girl and return the favor to daddy, hm?”

taglist: @lovelypasteldreams @living-for-drama @arixtsukki @month-seasoning @bakarinnie

#✨.sapphire #e.rotic #e.komori #reader insert #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #hq komori #komori motoya #komori x reader #Kinktober 2020 #smut #smut x reader #komori motoya x reader #female reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu smut x reader #requests open #fluff #spicy shit lmao #y’all are vile #but i am too