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#domestic kisses i've always wanted

romantichomicide95 · 5 months

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⋆̩MEGUMI FUSHIGURO | no nut november

wk-> 2.3k

summary: megs tries to do no nut november, does not last a month. sort of has multiple parts.

warnings: nsfw. 18+. oral (f!receving), p in v sex, fem!bodied reader, agedup! to 20, domestic vibes.

"I'm just saying Gumi, I don't think you can do it." You say as you look at him across the table. He's engrossed in his book, holding a fork in his other hand, and seems unbothered by the topic of conversation - No Nut November.

Yuji was the one that brought it up of course, said they should have a little competition. Megumi, of course, told him he was an idiot. Then when he brought it up to you, you dared to tell him you didn’t think he could do it.

He rolls his eyes, dismissing the idea as foolish. Games like that are stupid, he thinks, and only idiots partake in such childish behavior. Idiots like Yuji. First of all, he could totally last a whole month if he wanted, it's not a big deal. But why would he? There's no reward at the end, no gold medal that says 'good job for not getting off'.

Megumi looks up from his book, his blue eyes scanning over your features. He raises an eyebrow as if to scoff at the very idea. "Why would I want to participate in something so... juvenile?"

You chuckle, shaking your head and playfully nudge his shoulder from across the table. "You're missing the point, Gumi. It's not about the challenge itself, it's just about proving that you can do it. It’s all in good fun.”

Megumi scoffs, rolling his eyes before putting his attention back to his book. "I'll pass on this one, thanks. I've got better things to do than worry about my... self-control."

“I mean…if you don’t think you can do it then just say that Megumi. It’s okay…I couldn’t resist me either.” You tease. If anything you know your boyfriend. He may be quiet, reserved, kind of a typical broody boy, but he often found himself unable to resist the need in his pants whenever you touched him the right way or kissed him in that spot that drove him crazy.

He looks up at you, closing his book and giving you his full attention. You’re wrong, he can do it. It’s really not that big of a deal. Besides, it’s not like you’re fucking irresistible. Okay, maybe he’s fooling himself with that one…but still, he likes to think of himself as having full control over such things. He can last a month, it’ll fly by anyway.

“Whatever, fine I’ll do it. Just so I can prove you wrong. But don’t come begging me when you get all worked up.”

—————

It’s been one week. One entire week where Megumi hasn’t touched you, or even tried to touch you. You weren’t exactly sure how he was doing it, but it was starting to drive you crazy. You tried taking care of yourself. But with every brush of your fingers against your needy clit the ache for his touch seemed to grow.

Frustrated, and to be quite frank extremely fucking horny, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You wait until he comes back from a mission one night. He’s exhausted, maybe too exhausted to remember the challenge. As you both sit on the couch, you can't help but notice how tired and drained he looks.

You decide to make your move, leaning in close and whispering seductively in his ear, "You know, I've been thinking about you a lot lately.” You say, running a finger under his shirt and tracing his abs. “I bet I could help you relieve some of that tension."

Megumi's eyes flicker open. He swallows hard, his breath hitching slightly as you continue to trace your finger over his toned body. "I... I don't know if that's a good idea right now," he says, you can hear the need in his voice as he darts his eyes away from your gaze.

You smirk, leaning in closer. "Why not? I can make you feel good Gumi." Your voice has a sultry tone to it, the one that you always use when you want his reserve to crumble.

He sucks in a breathe, adjusting his pants before inching himself slightly away from you. This is harder than he thought, but than he remembers you’re teasing from last week and the stubbornness in him takes over. "I'm committed to the dumb challenge that you, by the way egged me on to do.”

You can't help but feel a pang of disappointment. You were so sure that your seduction would work. Usually it doesn’t take long but it seems Megumi is more determined than you thought. With a sigh, you pull away from him, standing up and adjusting your clothes. "Fine. Have fun with your challenge," you mutter, walking away in frustration.

—————

Two and a half weeks, on the dot. That’s exactly how long it’s been since your boyfriend has touched you. At this point you’d completely given up on your seduction. You’d tried every trick in the book. Straddling his lap, kissing the spot behind his ear that drives him crazy…you even asked him for a massage which led to…well him just giving you a massage.

It actually had you confused. Surely he’s been horny? You knew he was pretty good at self-control when it came to pretty much every aspect of his life. But sex? I mean he’s not some ravaged sex maniac, like his best friend who lasted all of one day in the challenge, but he’s got a pretty high sex drive given his reserved demeanor. You actually had a pretty active and, if you did say so, amazing sex life. So for him to go this long without even so much as a word? It wasn’t making any sense.

So, here you were, given up on trying at all. Instead you were preparing for a movie night. Clad in his t-shirt and only a pair of pretty pink panties given the heat wave going through your city. You were standing in the kitchen now, waiting for the popcorn to pop and unbeknownst to you Megumi’s eyes hadn’t left your body.

He thinks you did this on purpose, sure it’s hot out but you know how much he loves the way those panties hug your ass cheeks. How crazy he goes when you wear his t-shirt with no bra underneath. It always gave just enough of a peek at your perky nipples and the thought of rolling one of those perfect little buds on his tongue has his cock straining against his pants.

Yeah, you must have done this on purpose. Prancing around, showing off that sexy body of yours. You keep reaching for things in the cupboard and then his shirt lifts up ever so slightly, revealing the curve of your hips. God, it’s driving him crazy. You’d been driving him crazy all week, everything you did was in some way absolutely and utterly sexy. The way you ran your hands in his hair as he lays on your chest, tired from a long mission. The way you pout your lips when you tease him, or rub your ass against his body as you cuddle at night. And of course the fact that no matter what you do you always looked so utterly breathtaking that it drove him mad. Every single thing had made him want to forget this stupid challenge and plunge his cock into the lush walls of your pussy.

As the popcorn finally starts to pop, filling the room with its delicious aroma, Megumi can't control himself anymore. He slowly gets up from the couch. You hear his slow footsteps behind you but before you can react he wraps his arms around you from behind, his body pressing against yours. His hands rest on your waist, his fingers just barely brushing the sides of your panties. His thumb rubs slowly against the skin of your thigh and the subtle touch alone sends shivers through you.

You can feel the hardness of his erection against your back. Megumi leans in close, his breath warm against your neck. He doesn’t say anything, he just presses his lips to the space between your shoulder and your collarbone. “You’re making this so hard...” He says, his voice hoarse like he’s trying hard to control himself.

You turn to face him. His hands don’t leave your sides as you look up at him. “Making what hard?”

“Not touching you, when you walk around looking like…this.” His eyes trail down your body, before he leans down brushing his lips against yours.

“Than touch me.” you whisper as you connect your lips with his. It’s not like you haven’t kissed this whole time, but something about his kisses now are primal, hungry…like he’s kissing you for first time. And you’re elated, you’d wanted him so bad…needed him.

He deepens the kiss, his hands sliding up your waist, gripping your hips. His tongue slides into your mouth, swirling with yours as he lifts you up. You can feel the growing heat of his body against yours. His erection clearly evident through his pants. "I want you." he whispers between kisses.

He carrys you back to the couch, laying you on your back, one arm on either side of your body holding himself up. He looks at you, as if he’s soaking you in before he leans down to kiss you again. He pulls his t-shirt off of you over your head, leaning down to kiss from your collarbone down to your chest, before he takes a bud in between his lips, his tongue darting around it causing a moan to escape you. It’s just as he remembers, hard bud against his tongue. The feeling always making you so wet for him.

His lips then begin to trail down your stomach, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He reaches the waistband of your panties, his fingers hooking into them, pulling them down from your body. He looks up at you, his eyes meeting yours for a moment before he continues his descent. “Stay still.” He says.

He pushes your legs apart, his tongue tracing along your folds. You reach down, lacing your fingers in his hair, giving him the initiative to push forward. Using his tongue, he goes in deeper, teasing you before dipping in fully to lap away at your sex. His tongue works the magic only Megumi’s tongue seems to have, circling around your clit in short, sharp flicks, dipping down into you then flickering back out. His mind goes a bit wild as he tastes your juices against his tongue and lips, it drives him almost as crazy as it drives you.

“Fuck-you sound so pretty.” Megumi’s cock throbs in his pants listening to the whimpers and moans only he can pull out of you. It’s been so long since he’s tasted you, smelled you, had your hands in his hair eagerly egging him on. His cock strains against his pants and he grinds against the couch, chasing any sort of friction as he pulls orgasm out of you. You grip his hair as you cum, with one moan of his name and he wastes no time licking up your juices. He savors the taste, two weeks away and he’s practically feral just from the sweet nectar. Then he’s back hovering over you again.

His lips meet yours, the sweet taste of your juices still lingering on his tongue. He kisses down your neck, grazing your skin with his teeth. He stops momentarily to discard of his shirt before his lips are on yours again. He teases your clit with a finger, then another, coating them with your slick.

He can’t take it anymore, not when your soft whimpers are singing directly in his ear. Not with the way your pussy clenches around his fingers, he’s so desperate for you to clench around his cock you don’t even notice how quick he is taking his pants off until you realize the tip of his dick is softly rubbing against your clit.

It’s just the tip and you’re already moaning, fuck you missed his cock and the way it so deliciously filled you up. Your moans egg him on, he closes his eyes momentarily as he pushes in slowly, a low grunt leaving his lips as he feels your pussy clench around him. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, his voice hoarse. His thrusts become faster and harder as he loses himself in the sensation of your walls around him, nails lightly digging into his shoulders.

His cock slides in and out of your wet heat, the room filled with the squelching sounds of your pussy milking his cock. He grips your hips, lifting them slightly off the bed so your back is arched as he drives his cock deeper and faster his hips moving rapidly against yours.

You reach out for him and he laces a hand with yours, your back falling back down to the bed as your fingers lace together. He looks at you for a second, drinking in the sight of your beautiful naked body below him.

He leans down and kisses you rough. “Don’t think I can last much longer.” He says, his face buried in your neck. You squeeze his hand as a sign that’s it’s okay and somehow the tenderness of your touch pushes him to the edge. “I’m….” he can’t even say the words before his cock twitches inside you. His cum filling you up. He grunts one last time, his face still buried in your neck.

He doesn’t move for a second, collapsing on top of you. He just wraps his arms around your body, holding you close before he moves to kiss you on the forehead.

A smile plays on your lips and you brush a sweat piece of raven hair from his pretty blue eyes. “I knew you couldn’t last the whole month.” You say with a light giggle.

He falls back down on top of you, burying his face in your neck once more and groaning. “Shut up.”

tagging: @withthegraceofthewind @belfiguevel @chilichopsticks @nobody289x @rlvsmegumi @cassiefromhell @yihona-san06 @thebigcheez

#megumi x reader #megumi smut #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro megumi #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #megumi x reader smut #fushiguro megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk megumi #fushiguro smut #fushiguro x reader

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angelltheninth · 7 months

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cock warming jjk men 🫢

One of my favorite things to write.

Pairing: Yuuji, Sukuna, Megumi, Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Toji x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, cockwarming, gentle sex, cuddlefucking, kissing, domestic fluff, teasing

A/N: I was gonna say one of my favorite things to do but no, I've never done that.

YUUJI

Bites his lower lip to avoid smiling more then he already is. He has a lot of stamina yes however some days he's a little bit too tired after everything. He could push through that and let the adrenaline take over but why would he when it's just as nice to feel you cuddling up to him and hooking your leg over his hip to get his cock in deeper. Could easily fall asleep like that, with your warm body around his, and your ever warmer pussy around his cock that'll keep him semi hard all night. He'll be more than ready for morning sex.

SUKUNA

Honestly it's not his favorite thing in the world because once his cock is inside you he has a hard time staying still. Unless it's part of his game but that's not what this is. The only way he can stay still enough is if he's already fucked you and gotten it out of his system. But just to keep you on your toes he will occasionally thrust upwards to hear your surprised mewls. Don't make too many of those sounds though, he might want to go again.

MEGUMI

Was all for this at first but as soon as you sunk down on his cock he found it hard not to move, a little bit but still. You can be on top of him, cuddle him, try to distract him from the feeling of your cunt around his cock but he won't have that happen. His hands push your ass up and down, sending shockwaves through your body as your clit brushes against his abs. Now who can't keep still?

GOJO

He needs to keep you still while you're on his cock, it was your idea and he was on board but seems to him like it was just an excuse to feel full. Now that you've said it he'll make you hold still no matter what. And since you're trying to hard to be bad he will make you suffer a little. Your legs are already open for him so it's easy enough to slide his fingers up and down your clit, get the nice squeezing motions going and get your pussy drooling all over his cock and balls.

NANAMI

Mostly happens when he's home from work. If he sees you cooking for him he will walk up behind you and start kissing your neck. While you relax against him his hands manage to move your underwear to the side. He won't move, you're still cooking and he wants to eat but at the same time he's too impatient to wait for after the meal. Now if you start to roll your hips back that's a different story all together.

GETO

Spooning you from behind is always fun for him, especially if you part your legs for him a little and let his cock slide in between them. There's that warmth he's been looking for, you know exactly what he needs and when. Now if only you could keep your hips still he might be able to get some rest. Unless you want him to push you against the bed and fuck your brains out until you can't move at all. Maybe that's the only way to get you to stay still.

TOJI

Good luck keeping him still for long enough to cockwarm him. You need to press down with all your strength and even then he'll be thrashing up, chuckling at your sad attempts to keep him pinned. Once he's had his fun with you and you're constantly fluttering around him he'll calm down a little bit. But at that point you've already had a few rounds of orgasms, you're too sensitive to complain.

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lenaellsi · 9 months

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so you're anthony j. crowley, long-time exile from heaven and recent exile from hell, and you've finally figured out that the mess of overwhelming and infuriating and intoxicating feelings you've been harboring for the only being in the universe you've ever been able to rely on might, whoopsies, be something a little bit like love. but not love the way you remember heaven loved you, or the way they told you god loved you (they lied), but love like the humans do it: messy, and awkward, and incongruously infinite, and so, so fragile.

and, well. okay, you think. this'll be horrible. embarrassing for both of us, probably. but i'll tell him. you've never been a coward, no matter what the other demons might say. screw your courage to the sticking place, or whatever. macbeth. aziraphale loved that one.

so you talk yourself into it, you gather every scrap of courage and honesty you've got left, and you say, all right, angel, i've got something to say, only aziraphale's got something to say, too, and--

aziraphale doesn't love you back.

or. he does, but he loves the ghost of the angel you used to be, not the person you've made yourself since. he loves you, but he loves you like god did--loves you good, and quiet, and dull. he loves you without your grief, or your anger, without even that first bite of the apple. he wants you like that again, he says. defanged, like the Antichrist's domesticated hellhound.

(you worked for hell for a long time, and for god for a long time before that. you're intimately familiar with what it is to offer someone everything they've ever wanted, and then to twist it, to mutilate it, into an unrecognizable hell of their own choosing. you're not sure why it surprises you anymore. you're not sure why you keep letting the surprises hurt.)

and so you do the thing you've done since the beginning, because you've never been able to stop yourself: you push. you push hard, and you grab him, and he's so angry and you kiss him and you don't think about it, don't think about it, this is the most important temptation of your life, the only one that's ever mattered--

and he forgives you.

so you leave. at least that way you can do it before he does. you've always been a step ahead and to the left; stupid to think this would ever be different. stupid to think he might choose you, with all of heaven and earth spread out in front of him. nothing lasts forever, not even the stars.

he told you that a long time ago.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens season 2 #good omens spoilers #good omens season 2 spoilers #gos2 spoilers #good omens s2 #good omens meta #ish?#aziraphale #crowley #oh god. crowley #is that all the tags. i dont know. ive slept 3 hours in the past 48.#how we feeling. i for one would love if michael turned me into a pillar of salt.

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aethelwyneleigh27 · 3 months

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Realizations

Dad!Simon Ghost Riley x Wife!Reader

Thank you guys so much for 1k, it means the whole world for me because now once did I expect to ever have my page grown this big and not once had I imagined that I would make these many friends here who happened to be so sweet. Also to @connorsui who has been most definitely been waiting the answer to this.

So in honor of 1k, I wrote this long awaited backstory for Ghost and Lovie (Ghostie's parents) that I hope you guys will enjoy since it so happens that our beloved @ave661 has posted another Dad!Ghost render. (Credits to her again for the renders in this post <3) (Sweetie, I love you but that tag on Soap with this render was unnecessary 😭🫶)

To the people who congratulated me, through replies, likes and reblogs, I owe y'all a fat kiss. Mwahhh <333

My CoD Masterlist

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @cutenote @connorsui @capuccino192 @thesnowurzikdjinn @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @trepaika @starryylies @demidemon09

Warnings/Disclaimers: Stalking (not by Simon), Typical mentions of CoD violence?, Mentions of Simon's past abuse, Creepy guy?? (Not Simon), Mentions of violent and a bit gory descriptions on what wanted to do to the stalker, This is not proofread yet.

With the words of my mother and in true reputation style, Are you ready for it?

I think I need to say this on my account again, English is NOT my first language and all copyrights regarding the plot and some characters within the storyline belong to me. Edit: please help me y'all, I'm losing so much relevance in the span of less than a month, my recent works have gotten nothing and I'm scared that this post proves that. I think I've learned my lesson never to take breaks ever again 😭

Simon never imagined himself in this predicament, always thinking that he'd be out there somewhere, more likely drowning himself in a mission. Not even a home, he thought that if it hadn't for your persuasiveness to interact with him back then then he'd still be back in that shitty apartment complex.

Simon placed his duffle bag on the wood of the porch, the jingling of his keys while he looked for the correct one. He tried his best to make as little noise as possible, it was passed midnight, the last thing he would want was to disturb his wife and daughter from resting.

Hauling the duffle bag in and throwing it on the couch, Simon opt to see what his girls were up to. The giggling and commotion making him smile, you both were supposed to be asleep by now but you were unable to put her to rest because she's just too hyper, so that left you to entertain her by tossing her up and catching her.

"Dada..!" A squeal from the room came, the little one snapping her head to the opening of the door making you look as well, Simon took a peek from the half-way opened door.

Adorable little thing clapping her hands together, pleased that her dad is home while sitting on her mom. She got off, crawling near the edge of the bed with no sense of danger, fortunate for her that her dad is quick with catching her before you could.

You took a deep breath from the shock, looking at your husband and smiling sweetly at him. He asked you not to get off the bed as you were about to, laying next to you he snakes his arm underneath you on your waist and pulls you in.

"I missed my girls.." He said, voice deep and laced with exhaustion, despite that his hold and gaze was the warmest it could be.

"We missed you too Si, so much." You mumbled as your eyes flutter shut to enjoy his touch. You opened them to the sound of a kiss, he kissed the little one's forehead then yours.

Sometimes you vaguely remember the first time he and you met, how it even came to be, this life of domesticity. You, him and your little girl, family is a heavy word for Simon but it was just perfect. This was the family he wanted, the family that he thought he didn't deserve and never would have.

The feeling of coming home to all this started because you were so forgetful, who knew that would be the skill that brought you to him..?

• ──── ✦ ──── •

He emptied his pockets, to the lieutenant's dismay, the box of cigarettes only had one stick left. Since he was going out to smoke it anyway, he might as well get another box from the convenience store nearby. He took his keys from the kitchen counter and headed out, hearing a little commotion that peeked his interest.

Simon never paid much mind to whatever was going on within his apartment building despite the many gossips that were present within the building and the renters. So it happens that the old lady next to his place mentions how they'll be a new tenant in the other apartment next to his.

'Thank God' Simon thought, not that he was particularly religious but he'd been hoping for the longest time for the former renter to leave because let's be honest, who wants to live next to a frat boy with no sense of shame or consideration given that walls are thin? Little did he know he'd be blessed with the next one..

"Oh- I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to.." Simon hears a voice from a little below him, he'd only register what had happened after the fact. Poor girl carrying this box bumped into him a little too hard, so much so that she stumbled back a bit.

You stared up to the 6'4 man blinking, he only shrugged it off to which you smiled to. You tried to make small talk since you were new and it wouldn't hurt to at least know one person right? After all, you were trying to step out a bit of your comfort zone.

"Hi.. I'm [Name].." He only stared at you for a while and replied, "Simon.." you gave him a warm smile before nodding and continuing to bring the boxes into your new apartment while your new neighbor entered the elevator.

You cut the boxes open to start unpacking, a few minutes in and you decided to go on a short break, you rummaged through the small box of food only to find that the recently bought box of tea was empty. You sighed at this, humming as you remembered the convenience store you passed by earlier on the way to the apartment.

Taking your keys and locking the door behind you, you made your way out the complex and walked a few blocks, you only started to notice how late it was with the streetlights coming on even though the sun is only about to set. That's something to get used to, hmm?

The cool breeze hits your skin as you enter, scent of faint instant coffee and many other kinds of foods and products made themselves known. You walked around for a while, checking on what other things you might need but then you tried to remind yourself that you were saving up and on a budget so you took a box of tea and walked up to the register.

You heard footsteps behind you falling in line, after placing the box on the counter, you searched your pockets for your wallet.

'Shit..!' you cursed yourself out mentally trying not to panic as Simon basically watches you frantically patting your pockets, you left your wallet back at the apartment. "You left your wallet-" Simon stated the obvious, "I'll cover it.." there wasn't even a time to argue with him, he just stepped next to you and placed the pack of cigarettes.

"I'll pay you back as soon as we get back to the apartment" You insisted to which Simon only shrugged and declined, it's just a box of tea and it's not like it'll make him go bankrupt, besides he liked your taste, the one you got happened to be his favorite brand.

Since you were headed in the same place anyway, you and Simon walked back together side by side, however one thing you did find odd was when he gently took you wrist and pulled you inward next to him, he was the one now closest to the road.

The walk back was silent, a comfortable silence. A few days after that encounter, you made sure to make an effort for him to know that you appreciated his gesture back at the convenience store. The lieutenant was alarmed by the knock on his door, opening it to find no person but a tupperware filled with buttery shortbread cookies.

He smiled at how tiny the plastic container looked in his hands, how he noticed the note attached "Thanks for the tea, this isn't that special but I hope you like it -[Name]" and the Sanrio themed stickers stuck onto the lid and on the top part of the tiny note. You ran out of sticky notes..

Simon found himself snacking on those cookies later on, oddly enough, they reminded him of his mom.. how she used to love baking back then, it was her way of escape whenever Simon's "father" wasn't home, as well as gardening.

For the first time in a while Simon "Ghost" Riley let out a smile that wasn't smug or a smirk but a genuine smile, one that had warmth to it, one that no matter how hard his mind tried to surppress it, his body refused to.

It didn't take long for you and Simon to get to know each other a bit, little by little it seemed like you two were becoming like friends rather than just neighbors. Let's be honest, who just randomly gives their neighbors weekly baked goods for the sole reason of "just because they wanted to"?

You found yourself always looking forward to the Friday nights chilling with him at the rooftop, mugs with hot tea on hand while he smoked and you read.

Listening to his stupid jokes and remarks that slowly turn into deep conversations and life things. Simon was just... far more open than he's ever been, sure he's talked about his day before to his comrades but never like this, not in a way where he's pouring his heart out, letting you in on how he feels about certain things.

He just got back from a mission, a rough one to be exact. Shoulders slumped from exhaustion as he walked the streets near the apartment complex, no space for his bike so he had to leave it somewhere private while he fidgeted with it's keys.

Simon swore that he almost jumped out of his own body, first instinct being to push you off but he recognized you. He gave you a questioning look, hands were shaking as you so desperately linked you arm around his.

"Hmm?" He hummed, hearing you mumbling something but it was incoherent to his ears.

"Behind us.. please Si, help..." Come to think if it, you never knew when Simon turned into Si. Best believe he knew and still remembers when perfectly.. not the time, there's a serious threat, he didn't look. He didn't need to, guessing by the heavy footsteps, some creep decided to follow you at this hour.

He slowly slipped his arm away from your grip and snaked it around your waist, pulling you in closer to his side while the two of you continued treading closer to the complex. You closed your eyes for a few seconds at a time hoping it would end.

• ──── ✦ A few days later ✦ ──── •

Knocking, frantic knocking was what Simon heard at his door. He wasn't expecting anyone, so why the sudden visit? He opened the door and saw you, Simon knew something was off from the look on your face, you looked pale as if you were sick to your stomach while trying so desperately to catch your breath.

"Can I please come in.. Simon..?" You asked in between breaths. You looked around you, especially behind you, body shivering a bit. He took notice of this and had no hesitation, he pulled you in by your arm. His grip firm but gentle, Simon closed the door behind him.

"Remember that guy who was creeping around when I asked for your help..?" You tried to explain but Simon already knew the moment your mouth opened. You had a stalker.. it was best to call the cops on shit like this.

Simon did his best even though not knowing much about how to comfort someone, he did well in making you feel safe without having to tell you that he'll do so, you just know it in your gut that he'd protect you even if it's just now.

Your breath picked up, slowly backing away from the door as you heard footsteps, clenching your fists and hoping that he didn't see you enter Simon's door. Simon wrapped his arms around you, keeping you in place and from further backing away from the door.

You felt his palm drag up and down your back, it was extremely warm, it stopped for a while. His arm wrapped around your waist, other hand in your hair pushing your head down a bit so it was buried in his chest while you gripped his shirt. Simon felt your trembling body against him slowly relax.

"Deep breaths, angel.." The nickname he whispered would've made you smile under any other circumstance but not right now, you needed to calm your nerves before you panic and make an impulsive decision that could hurt yourself. Like instructed, you followed along Simon's demonstration, pressing his forehead onto yours maybe just a bit too intimately.

You winced at the loud sound of banging on the door, you knew it too well. Simon shoved the handle of his combat knife in your hand, he told you that if anything were to happen, protect yourself with it.

As soon as the Lieutenant swung the door open, you could hear punches, things knocking over and among other things, your stalker's voice.

You'd never forget that, how pitchy it was. Nails on the chalkboard was the best way to describe it, how the man was cackling almost made you annoyed. Simon called on security and the man was dealt with, you came out from hiding and saw both fear and anger in Simon's eyes.

You would never know how much he wanted to tear that man's heart after skinning him alive for even bringing fear into your eyes.

Simon "I care too much for someone I just met" Riley finally saw how his knuckles and fingernails were caked with blood, went off to go wash it and himself.

Getting back to you after half an hour, you reached out for him only for him to withdraw, you looked at him confused and he looks at you with pure guilt..

Your eyes widened in realization, "Oh Simon.. I'm not scared.." you smiled at him. He reached out a shaky hand to you, hesitating before closing his hand back.

You took his hand in yours, bringing it up to your lips and giving it a small kiss, hoping it calms his nerves. Well it did the opposite, it even more overwhelming for him having you kiss his palm while you look up at him, watching you nudge your face into his palm so invitingly.

The way your lashes just sat perfectly atop your cheeks while you slowly blinked up at him. Pressing the same scarred and calloused hands that almost killed a man that night on your face and rubbing the back with you thumb.

Simon had never felt that much guilt before for hurting someone, only after he saw the look in your eyes, which in turn were not something he caused. For the first time in his life too, Simon was comforted by something or rather someone immensely..

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lokis-army-77 · 8 months

Note

A request for you: hugging best friend!Eddie and he pops a boner. Do what you will with this information. - @munson-blurbs 💚

Recipes for Romance

Bestfriend!Eddie Munson x fem reader

Word Count: 2.1k

When your best friend comes home while you're cooking dinner and something happens. . .

Warning: 18+. Oral (m receiving), gagging, choking, masturbation, cum swallowing

Thank you @munson-blurbs for sending this in.. I do believe this is the best BJ I've written 💗💗.

Masterlist

It's funny how love happens. One minute you're friends with someone and then the next, you realize something fundamental in your relationship has changed. No longer were you childhood best friends living together in a small, two-bedroom apartment trying to make a place for yourselves in this world. Now, you were childhood best friends who live together but one of you has an unrequited crush on the other.

Simple chores around the house and just hanging out with one another have turned into something more domestic on your end. You could see yourself coming home to him so easily.

Really, what would change if you were to tell him? Nothing, other than he would kiss you when you came home instead of only giving you a hug and asking what was on the menu for dinner that night.

That's where you were tonight. In the kitchen, chopping up ingredients for dinner like usual, thanks to Eddie's lack of expertise in anything other than pizza rolls and microwavable macaroni cups. If it had been left up to him both of you probably would have starved by now.

It was nearing eight when Eddie strolled through the apartment door, guitar slung on his back and an amp being hoisted up in his arms. Oh, those arms. He was wearing a black muscle shirt, perfect for the summer heat and showing off the delicious-looking veins that protrude from them.

“Hey, Eds!” You call out to him.

He grumbles out, “Hey,” in response, and fumbles with his things all the way down the hallway behind you, to your right, and into his room.

It’s a few moments and chopped cilantro later that you hear his bare feet padding back to where you are.

“How was your day?” The question comes out smoothly, without a thought, because you had been asking him this same thing forever.

“Good," he answers. “I’m exhausted.”

“Well, it’s a good thing dinner's almost ready, then you can go to bed.” You move about the small rectangular kitchen area with the grace that comes with knowing the area like the back of your hand.

You’re stirring the warming spaghetti sauce so that it doesn’t burn to the bottom of the pan when you feel those same bare arms you had been lustfully gazing at only a short while before reaching around your hips. You stop, freezing your movements to focus on how not to let Eddie feel the racing of your heart.

His chin rests on your shoulder and his hair tickles your neck. “Smells good,” he mumbles.

You blush. You know he’s talking about the food but you wish he were talking about you. It was always nerve-wracking for you when he got clingy like this. Knowing you couldn’t just relax into him how you wanted. Having to hold yourself back from turning your head and giving him a peck on the lips.

Eddie continued to watch you cook, nuzzling his nose deeper into the crook of your neck. You were hyper-aware of his lips on your bare skin and you were even more aware of growing hardness pressing against your ass.

Your face heats up even more as you think to yourself, ‘Why god? Why do this to me?’ It’s a struggle to keep stirring the food when all your attention is focused on your best friend's dick. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, the movement has Eddie humming into your neck and making him harden even more.

One of his hands unwraps from around you and grips your hip. You can feel his breathing becoming more labored as he struggles behind you.

You reposition yourself once more, this time pushing back into him just a little. Eddie can’t catch the strangled moan that flies up from his throat.

“Fuck.” His lips move across your skin like a hot branding iron, saying your name breathlessly.

“Eddie?” You question innocently.

“Hum?” He replies.

You push the saucepan back onto a cool part of the stovetop and turn the once-in-use eye off.

“Are you…” You can’t bring yourself to say it out loud, but he knows your silent query.

It takes him a moment to say anything. He swallows hard and nods. “Yeah. Shit, I’m sorry.” He squeezes your hip with his large hand and begins to back away.

“Wait!” Your voice is louder than you had anticipated it to be but the urgency in it stops Eddie before he is fully separated from you. “Eddie, wait,” you say much softer this time.

He stops, the tips of his fingers barely touching you. You turn around in his light hold, eyes staring up into his. Your heart is beating a mile a minute as you say, “I can help with that y’know.”

Eddie sputters, seemingly choking on air. “W-what?” His face blushed a deep red and it flushed all the way down his neck.

Taking a breath, you try and calm yourself down. Those six words can’t be taken back now, but why would you want to do that anyway? The thought of his hard cock filling your mouth was the only thing running through your mind and now that a chance had arisen, you were going to take it.

“I said,” You trail your hand down down down until you are cupping him over his jeans. “I can help with that… Unless you don’t want me to.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide and he opens and closes his mouth like he’s trying to find the words to say only to be left mute. Instead, he nods his head, letting his curls cover his face.

You turn your bodies, pushing him up against the counter, and with less practiced grace than moving about the kitchen, you begin to undo his pants. His breath catches and he looks away from you for only a moment when your hand dips past the waistband of his pants.

“Oh god-” He swallows.

Ever so slowly you begin your descent to your knees, taking his pants and boxers down with you. The sight left before you makes your mouth water and your legs clench. He looks painfully hard, the tip flush and a bead of pre-cum pooling at the slit. You ached to run your tongue over the vein protruding down his shaft, you needed to have his balls in your mouth.

So, that’s what you do. From base to tip you lick a fat, wet strip up him. His hips jerk forward, one hand caught in your hair, and the other holds on for dear life to the edge of the counter. You lick again and again, over and over.

“Fuck-,” your name falls from Eddie's lips in a whimper. That sound had your stomach flipping and your pussy fluttering. You needed him to do that again.

You start to pepper kisses along his shaft, ending at his head and giving it one big smooch before opening and taking him into your mouth.

Eddie tugs on your hair at the first experimental suck that you give him. You can't help but moan at the slight pain. Taking him a bit more you suck again, gentle and with little force.

"Ah-." There it was, that whiny sound.

You bring your hand up to wrap around the length of him not nestled in the warmth of your mouth. Giving him a firm squeeze you begin to move. Up and down, up and down. You follow your hand with your mouth.

The hot and tangy taste of him spreads across your tongue and pre-cum just dribbles out of him. Really, it makes you salivate, it makes you wet. And what really turns you on is knowing that this is your best friend. This is the guy you've known since forever. The guy you never thought you would ever be doing this with.

It made you hungry for more, needy, and unsatisfied. You dip your head further down, lips meeting your fingers at his base.

"Oh God. Oh fuck." Another strangled whimper followed by the prettiest grunts and groans. Your other hand, resting on Eddie's thigh, could feel how his leg tensed with every suck, with every nudge of the back of your throat. Then he jerked forward again. His cock buries deep into your throat.

You choke and gag around him, spit dripping from the corners of your mouth and falling down your neck. Tears sting in your eyes but you let him thrust into you.

Eddie says your name like a prayer. It flows from his lips in a melody only for you. He’s got your hair fisted in his hand, fingers digging into your skull. Your own fingers dig into his strong thighs. Then, he lets you go and you pull away fast for air. A string of drool connects your lips to his cock.

“Eddie,” You say as you look up at him through thick lashes and heavy eyes.

“Mmm.” He hums, head falling to the side.

“You taste so good. Want you to cum down my throat.”

He looks down at you in such a way that you think you can see something other than love for a friend. Something more potent, something like what you feel for him. It makes the breath catch in your lungs.

Eddie releases his grasp on your hair and smooths his hand down and onto your cheek. His thumb rubs light circles into your skin. You lean in more, scooting closer to him on your knees, ignoring the numbness in them.

The cheek he isn’t touching rests on his thigh and you continue to look up at him as you take his cock fully in your hand and start pumping.

Eddie bites his lip but that doesn’t stop the moans. “God damnit, baby…”

He’s never called you that before. Sure a pet name here and there, sweetheart or something of the sort, but never baby. The name had you aching with need and it only took a few more high-pitched whimpers from Eddie to have you shoving your other hand down your shorts.

You were drenched, wetness pooled in your panties and around your fingers as you swiped them through your folds. You trail your lips down to his balls and kiss them before sucking one into your mouth.

There is a moment when you think Eddie is going to fall on top of you. You feel his knees buckle and his feet shuffling to keep himself upright.

You let go of him with a pop and then take the other into your mouth, warming him and running your tongue over the skin.

“Fuck fuck fuck. Baby- mmm,” Eddie can’t keep quiet and you don’t want him to. The louder he is, the more it encourages you.

After a few more pumps of your hand, you move your mouth back to the tip of his cock and take him deep. This time when he hits the back of your throat, you don’t gag as bad but tears still swell in your eyes. You let him buck his hips into you, following his rough pace with your hand as you rub your fingers into your clit.

“Gonna cum baby, fuck gonna make me cum. Such a pretty mouth." Eddie blubbers. "Fuck I love you, baby. Gonna fill that mouth up. You gonna swallow all of it, baby?"

You hum around his cock at his words. Heart beating faster and safer as your own orgasm begins to come forward.

With a hand buried in your hair again. Eddie pushes you down onto his cock, nose pressed against his abdomen and drool spilling down your chin. You feel him twitch and watch through tear-rimmed eyes as his head falls back and his mouth hangs open. Eddie lets out the most lewd-sounding moan as he releases his sticky, hot cum down your throat.

You swallow and swallow, consuming all that he gives you. Your hand still works between your thighs and in a gush of pleasure, you can feel your release dripping over your fingers.

Pulling away from Eddie, his cock now softening, you catch your breath. You move to sit more comfortably on the floor and lean your forehead on Eddie's left knee.

"Wow…" Eddie heaves out. "That was- that was fucking amazing." His grip eases in your hair and then he's adjusting himself back into his pants before sitting on the floor with you.

"Look at me?" He asks. You're avoiding eye contact with him, embarrassment of the actions and words just exchanged flooding through you.

"Sweetheart, please look at me." He pleaded.

That name had you looking timidly through your hair. Those big, brown eyes caught yours and in that moment you knew that another fundamental piece of your relationship had changed.

No longer was it two childhood best friends living together with one having a crush on the other. No. It was now two childhood best friends who loved each other in every way, who were once too scared to say anything lest they break up the friendship.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #female reader #bestfriend!eddie munson

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bitchimasnake-sss · 6 months

Text

"doing laundry and taxes with you" ft. the monster trio!

ft. (domestic!) luffy, zoro, sanji x fem!reader

in which, you make their house a home

(a/n: im sick and needed some comfort so this got very long im so sorry!!)

warnings: nsfw towards the end! nsfw stuff includes car-sex, in public, dirty talk, rough sex, penetration, squirting, sanji takes a picture of you choking on his dic- (ahem, not sorry); MDNI (thankyou very much okay byee)

luffy:

they are so precious to me 😭😭

- whatever you do, don't imagine domestic!luffy - don't imagine cold mornings when you're under the cover with him. he's holding you tightly, snuggling against you and whispering a soft, "good morning, baby" - do not imagine him coming back from home and holding you by your waist when you're doing something, nuzzling into the crook of your neck as you asks you how your day was - don't think of him as one of those guys who start a tickle fight when poke him once and laugh at him - absolutely do not imagine his as one of those s/o who are down to make everything into a game "whoever loses mario-kart makes the dinner, okay?" he grins, pulling you down onto the couch with him "oh really?" you laugh when he holds you tighter, "i really want some pasta tonight then" - he ended up making pasta that night - but as i said, don't imagine luffy as that because he is certainly that man and more - he will fret over you when you fall sick, trying to make you laugh your way out of a fever (canon). he won't leave your side, no matter how much you insist that you're fine "what do you need? water? soup? pizza- oh wait no that's unhealthy" a pause, "wait, do you want a pizza? it'll probably be fine if you eat one tbh, right??" - also the kind of guy who will ask his friends to turn their car around (because in no parallel universe do i believe luffy knows how to drive ffs) because you only said "love ya" and missed the i (how dare you, he's heartbroken now) "yn!!" he's yelling from the driveway, "YOU FORGOT TO SAY I LOVE YOU!!" so now you're sticking out your head out of your apartment window, looking down at a pouty luffy, annoyed zoro and unbothered sanji - also, man has TERRIBLE separation anxiety - (people now know that wherever you are invited, luffy is invited too "what are you doing here?" nami hisses as she vaguely looks at luffy, "this is supposed to be a girls night out!" luffy shrugs, "pretend im not even here" yeah, luffy that's kinda hard when you're practically draped over your girlfriend the entire night) - but as it's been established, don't fall for his perfect acts because he is the kind to park in a distant corner of a grocery store parking lot and beg for you to let him fuck you "it'll be quick," he's whining, tugging you towards himself and kissing you senseless, "baby, i promise. just one hit." - he's feral, holding you flush against himself as he fucked you with your top still on and your hands holding tightly against his neck - your arousal drips into his thigh and he's groaning about how good you feel, you feel him thrust into you harder and now you're spasming and cumming around his girth - he didn't infact let you go after one hit. - you both walked into the grocery store 37 mins later with your faces flushed, hair tousled and a familiarly uncomfortable wetness nesting between your thighs - (cause i know he's fucking nasty and he will absolutely make you walk into that store with his essence still inside you. sorry, i do not make the rules :/) - eitherways, best guy ever - he's the perfect s/o that never lets you have a dull moment in your life as long as his annoying ass is around

zoro:

- i will stand by what i've always said. soft zoro is the best zoro. 'nuff said, i will die on this hill. - but god, nobody can ever imagine how soft domestic!zoro is with you by the way he shrugs and grunts off any and all people around him (except for his crew) - frankly speaking, you didn't expect this either when you started dating him - you would have never imagined this green-haired, stoic-faced, dry-ass motherfucker to hold onto you tightly and lightly close his eyes whenever you forced him to see another horror movie - he claimed watching horror movies was the equivalent of mind torture but followed along cause you seem to like them (you don't probably like them that much, you just like his heavy figure against yours as he snuggles in deeper and deeper against you) "this is so stupid" he hisses at the girl in the screen, groaning when she blatantly ignores him, "she will die if she follows the fucking voice!!" you don't fail to notice how shrill his deep voice can get whenever there's a jumpscare (but he will blame the wind for that noise, never admits what he knows is true) - he is so soft in the way he offers to shampoo your hair when you drag him into the shower. his calloused fingers are light, gentle, against your scalp and you can't help but smile when he flashes you a small smile and asks if it's fine - domestic!zoro is so soft in the way he would carry you bridal-style/on his back everywhere (wdym you only had to go to the kitchen?? he can carry you there, he's strong, do you not believe him?) - also, we all have sorta established that he's not a pda guy but my lord, behind those four walls, he needs to be around you one way or the other - doesn't matter if he is just standing at the bathroom door, making small talk as you do your skincare for the night or he's holding onto your hand as you both lay sprawled on your bed, looking at your phones - but don't let his softness make you forget that this man is a piece of shit. - he will purposely stand in front of cabinets and cupboards when you cook and flash you a innocent smile when you get annoyed; he will finish your favourite conditioner even though he said "i don't that conditioner too much"; he will purposely order you random stuff online and everytime you'd open it thinking it's something cute but it'll end up being something green and (cutely) stupid - (you now possess 5 mushroom figurines, 12 frogs doing random shit, a green cheap light saber, a lowkey-fucked up painting of baby yoda and green paper-clips. he doesn't even like green all that much, he just loves to annoy you) - but as i said, don't fall for his sweet facade because he will stop you at the door and fuck you against it before you're heading out in that skimpy dress (yes, he fucks you in that dress) (ofcourse he doesn't mind your dress riding up as long as people can see the marks he left on your body) "ah" he groans, thrusting upwards as one of his hands hold you firm against the door and another plays with your swollen clit, "sorry for ruinin' your makeup, baby. but look at you, you look so pretty, getting fucked right now" - he's sure the neighbours can hear the wood creaking against your weights and your high-pitched, feverish moans as you beg him to fuck you harder (it's the fourth time this month) - he forces his fingers (which were slick with your arousal) down your mouth and watches as his fingers rub away the lipstick into modern art "much better" he would sigh against your skin when he was done, "have fun at the party, babe" - he holds back a laugh cause he knows you can barely walk, much less party (not to mention, you gotta re-do your makeup now.) - so he goes with you, lending you his arm as support so that you wouldn't walk so wobbly "that dress still looks too good on you" he will whisper against your ear, "meet me in the bathroom in five, let me fuck you again" - as much as he is a menace, you wouldn't have it any other way - god, iamsodownbad for him <3

sanji:

it's him officer, he is the one who altered my brain chemistry!

- vinsmoke sanji is the perfect pinterest boyfriend. argue with the wall, i don't entertain wrong views. - what i mean is, he is the boyfriend/husband who will be up to bake a cake at 3 in the morning and eat it with you as the sun rises, he is the one who will hold you hand and groggily lead you to an ice-cream vendor at 1 in the night because you really wanted ice-cream, he is the one to take a thousand photos in any outfit you wear "yn" he's changing his angles every second, shutter of the camera snapping photo after photo, "you look so beautiful, so marvelous, charming, ah- mesmerizing, my love!" - he is the guy to hold your hand in a horror house no matter how scared he himself is. but you call tell by the way his fingers tightly close around yours whenever a jump-scare comes on (no, he is not being strong because he wants to look tough in front of zoro, tf you talking about??) - he is the man who will be looking for halloween decor on the first of september and christmas decor on the first of novemeber, takes the task of decorating his house very seriously (yes, he will out-do linda this time! so what if she bought a life-sized snowman?? he will pay luffy to become one, fuck linda.) - sanji is the guy that posts his girlfriend religiously (at one point, ussop asked you if you were holding him on gun-point and making him post you so much) - by religiously i mean for every one photo of himself, there's six of you like baby calm down nobody's gonna take her away - he also surprises you a lot (with nice surprises, unlike zoro.); he bought you a candle on your one-month anniversary and repurchases it every time you run through it - grocery store runs followed by cooking together is basically your idea of a weekly date - very on-brand with his theme but he has so many candids of you (a whole secret album with the title "my love <3"). there's pictures of you laughing at chopper's new onesie, hitting luffy in the face after he stole your sushi, tasting his cookies, tasting his dic- ahem. - it shouldn't come as any surprise that he has a huge thing for clicking pictures/ taking videos of you as he abuses your body in a way that has you crying for god "san-" "like that, moan out my fuckin' name, darling. tell me who's fucking you like this?" "you" you moan harder, eyes clamping shut, "you you, fucc-k you, sanji" - there's a video on his phone of his dick sliding in and out of your wet cunt as you moan and suck on your bottom lip; there's pictures of you sucking on his dick, giving the camera your prettiest doe-eyed look; there's a video of you squirting around his fingers, face red and body soaked as he keeps going and you're cumming a second, third, fourth time (that's his favourite video, it's insane how many times he comes back to that video) - he loves ruining you with slow sex as he makes you focus on the boring movie or show you're both watching - he gets off off how you try to maintain your composure but then come undone "yn, my love" he rasps in your ear, "come on, keep holding on for me. i'm gonna fuck you so well if you just keep taking me like this." - he ruins you and then gets you the best aftercare - ugh stan sanji for a good life.

a/n: the way i write sanji has me confused as to if i truly am a zoro girlie lmaoo. hope you liked it!! req are always open (also im sorry to the people who requested and i havent gotten around to it, i am just running low on fuel lately)

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writingforstraykids · 1 month

Note

I keep thinking about dilf!Felix like him being your besties dad or something….

-🎀

I swear I've been staring at this for so long, debating if I should do a full fic or just some thoughts. Well, thank my dear Azzy @galaxycatdrawz for this, because you made his thoughts go wild. Basically I just had to transform his whole little plan into a fic. There will be 2nd chapter (including smut) but have fun with this for now.🖤

Finding home in your heart

Pairing: Felix x fem!reader (mention of Minchan | Jisung)

Word Count: 7571

Summary: Felix got cheated on by his wife repeatedly and ends up heartbroken after the discovery. His adoptive daughter, your best friend, tells you the whole story and asks you to move in as you're struggling to find a place. Your only problem; you had a crush on Felix for ages and living with him isn't making it easier...

Warnings/Tags: angst, emotional hurt!comfort, fluff, insecure!lix, domestic shit, baking, cuddles, slowburn (ig?), first kiss, age difference (8 years, it's legal since this fic is for adults, chill out)

PART TWO

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

Felix’s love life had been nothing but a steady stream of predictable days blending into years. He would have never doubted his beautiful wife and would have never second-guessed her love for him. They had gotten married early and soon found out his wife was incapable of carrying his children. So, after some consideration, they adopted a young girl and raised her like their own. She had grown into a smart young woman, and Felix couldn’t be more proud of her. Given the age gap of only ten years he had always been rather close with her and later you, her best friend.

One night he decided to surprise his wife, coming home early as his daughter was staying at yours. What greeted him wasn’t the usual warmth and coziness of his home but the sight of his wife in a certain setting no man wants to find the love of his life in with another man. For a moment, Felix found himself frozen in place, the safe foundation of his life slowly crumbling away beneath his feet. He whispered her name in disbelief, only to find out that this had been going on for years. Felix felt like his whole life shattered to pieces and the betrayal left an ugly taste of bitterness on his lips. How the hell was he supposed to get out of this?

“And then she just left,” your best friend ends her story, and your eyes grow even wider than they have already been.

“You’re kidding?” you ask, shocked.

“Apparently, she said something about how this shit has been going on for years, that she never really loved him, and that she’ll leave until he finds a new place,” she rages on and paces her bedroom angrily. “Oh, and I’m just another burden he talked her into,” she scoffs, and your frown deepens.

“You won’t stay here, right?” you ask cautiously. You can’t imagine she will, but still.

“Oh, hell no. I’ll go with Dad, she can piss off,” she shakes her head and drops onto her mattress. “The perk of being not related to her is that I can push her out of my life for good,” she snorts, and you gently pat her back. “I feel so bad for him,” she sighs.

“It must’ve been a huge shock,” you nod, your heart feeling heavy. Felix has always been kind to you from day one. Whenever your family was struggling, he helped out, even if it was simply by taking you with them to theme parks, the movies, or shopping. Felix was only eight years older than you and ten years older than your best friend, so the older you got, the more he felt like an older friend instead of your best friend’s father. Also, he was stunningly handsome, but that wasn’t relevant right now.

“He’s trying to hide it, but I know how shitty he feels right now,” she tells you worriedly. “I mean, he’s never been with anyone else and-.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” you assure her gently. “He has such a kind heart, I’m sure someone will love him, truly.”

“I will thoroughly check the next person. You’ll have to help me then, go all detective on them,” she smirks, and you agree, laughing.

A gentle knock at the door interrupts you, and Felix opens the door flashing you a tired smile as a greeting before glancing at his daughter. “Channie called, he has a spare place we can have.”

“Just like that?” she asks baffled.

Felix chuckles weakly and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, just like that. I told him I’d pay, but Minho insisted they don’t need the place, and it’s all paid off.”

“How convenient,” she smirks and rolls her eyes. “Typical uncle Min,” she grins.

“Yeah,” he laughs and sighs softly. “You think you can get everything ready in the next few days?”

“You really can’t wait to get out of here, huh?” she laughs, and his smile dies, eyes clouding with pain.

“Yeah, I guess,” he nods and clears his throat as his daughter looks at him apologetically. “Well, let me know when you’re hungry, and we can order something,” he announces, putting on a smile and quickly pulling the door closed.

“See?” she whispers. “That’s exactly what I mean.”

You hum gently and pat your best friend’s knee. “Well, I can help you move, I have nothing to do those next few weeks.”

“You’re so sweet,” she giggles and hops up, ripping the door open. “Dad, Y/nnie says she’s gonna help us move our stuff!” she shouts downstairs.

“Lovely,” Felix shouts back halfheartedly and flinches as his daughter slams the door closed again. “Fucks sake, this woman,” he snorts and stands still in the living room for a moment. He chews on his lower lip as the many memories he made in this very room crash over him like a wave, trying to drown him. “You’re such a dumbass,” he whispers to himself.

“No, you’re not, she’s just a massive bitch,” you speak up gently, suddenly standing in the living room with him.

He blinks at you with wide, confused eyes before a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Mhm, you could say that. Doesn’t make me any wiser, letting her fool me for the past ten years,” he huffs softly and rubs his face. “I just feel bad for her,” he says, and you know he means your best friend upstairs. “All I always wanted for her was a stable home after everything she went through.”

“Look at her, you did great,” you tell him, and he chuckles weakly.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this,” he waves you off and blinks at you surprised as you offer him a hug. He accepts it after a short moment of hesitation and bites back a laugh as you pat his back encouragingly.

“You’ll be okay…she’ll never find someone better, so fuck her. It’s her loss,” you tell him, and Felix snorts before letting go of you and grabbing his phone.

“We’ll see,” he hums softly, subtly bringing some distance between the two of you again. “You’re gonna stay for dinner?” he asks, and you gently shake your head.

“I promised Mum I’d be home for dinner today,” you tell him, and he nods gently.

“You need a ride?” he offers, and you wave him off.

“I’ll be fine, promise,” you assure him and exchange your goodbyes.

One week later

You put down the boxes you carried inside and look around with wide eyes. “Wow, Min wasn’t lying. This place is huge.”

“Right? I didn’t quite believe it as well,” your best friend giggles and puts down her boxes as well.

“Why would I lie about that, huh?” Minho asks playfully offended, adding some boxes on the floor next to yours. “You think we’d give your dad and you some shabby place? You think that lowly of us?”

Chan pokes his side, making him squeak and giggles as Minho playfully raises his fists to fight him. “Relax, no one’s calling you a liar, baby.”

“Sure hope so,” he teases and naturally intertwines their hands, pulling Chan with him. “You haven’t seen the view from up here yet,” he announces and waves you after him.

You follow the pair of them onto the huge balcony, and your breath hitches. From up here, you can see parts of the city and the ocean, and still it’s so peaceful up here.

“How’s your dad, kiddo?” Minho asks your best friend after a moment of comfortable silence.

“Worse than he admits,” she answers, and Minho hums gently. “If you ask me, he’s fucking heartbroken and feels worthless. If you ask him, he’s okay and just a little caught up in his thoughts,” she further explains.

“Give him time,” Chan tells her gently and sighs, looking down at the ocean. “Ten years is a lot, you know?”

The door to the balcony opens, and Felix steps outside, laughing at you all. “Seriously? You’re out here enjoying the view while I’m carrying all those boxes?” he asks, and you all start laughing before hurrying back inside to help him.

Once everything is inside, Minho and Chan give you a tour through the house and you wonder what Felix and your friend would do with all this space. The couple soon leaves again to give them some space to settle in.

Your best friend strolls through the house and frowns softly. “You’re alright?” Felix asks her, frowning softly. “I know it’s not home, but we can make it work, it’ll just need some time and-.”

“Dad, home is wherever you are, relax,” she laughs, and Felix nods, stunned, looking adorably touched by her words. “I just…this place is huge.”

“It is,” he nods. “I have no idea what the hell they had planned for this.”

“Nothing useful, as Min put it,” you chime in, and Felix grins at your remark.

“I’ll feel so lonely here if you’re at work,” she speaks up after a moment, and Felix’s face softens.

“Dear, there’ll be a point in your life when you move out and everything. I won’t always be around,” he says, and she glares at him.

“Don’t say shit like that, you’re only ten years older than I am, it’ll take a while,” she points out, and he snorts but gives in, remaining quiet. “Y/nnie, how’s the hunt for a flat going?” she asks.

“I already told you it’s shit,” you sigh softly, not quite picking up on her true intentions behind that question. “It’s either too expensive or so much out of town it’s not exactly convenient.”

“Oh, you’re going to move out?” Felix asks, busying himself with one of the boxes.

“I want to, my parents could use the space for something else,” you nod.

“Dad?” she asks, drawing out the word with a sweet tone.

“What do you want?” he asks, not even looking up.

“She could move in with us,” she says, and you frown at her. Felix looks up, confused, and tilts his head at her. “She can’t find a place, I worry about getting lonely here…you could use some more company as well before you’re fully depressed and-.”

“Will you stop?” he snaps at her. “I’m not depressed, I’m fine besides the fact that I got cheated on after wasting ten years of my life,” he continues and shakes his head at her. “Stop reading into it that much, I’ll start believing you at this point.”

You lower your gaze at the floor and awkwardly shuffle on your feet. “Gosh, relax,” she sighs. “That just proved my point.”

Felix throws the contents of the box back inside and pushes himself up. “I’m getting some fresh air. And yes, you can move in if you want to, it’s not like we’d lack space or whatever,” he says before leaving the two of you.

“Nice one,” you sigh softly.

“What?” she groans and rolls her eyes. “You know I’m right.”

“And that makes it better?” you chuckle, and she huffs softly. “Fine, fine, I’ll go apologize…but would you?”

“I don’t know,” you sigh softly. “I’d feel like I’m intruding,” you argue gently.

“Never,” she shakes her head firmly. “Also, you’re here every day anyway, so nothing changes,” she grins before sighing softly. “Dad?” she shouts, and you roll your eyes at her.

Should you? Move in with your best friend and her heartbroken, conveniently handsome adoptive father? That could only go wrong, right?

You join them on the balcony and sigh softly, meeting your best friend’s eyes. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

She shouts in joy and pulls you into a tight hug, hopping excitedly. “You’re the best best friend I could’ve ever wished for!”

“Yeah, yeah,” you chuckle and roll your eyes playfully, catching Felix smirking at the two of you.

Three weeks later

You hum to yourself as you make your way from the kitchen to the living room area. Your best friend is staying the night at her boyfriend’s, and Felix is out on Stray Kids duty, as you jokingly call it. So, for now, you have the whole house to yourself. You moved in fully about two weeks ago, and your new room is bigger than you ever dared to imagine. There’s an attached bathroom as well, and your few things look ridiculous, trying to fill up all that space you have now.

You grab your phone and check your messages before scrolling through some news. Refreshing the page, a new article appears on top, and you realize it’s about Felix. Curiously, you click on it, and your eyes widen, realizing it’s about what happened with his wife. You read through it and smile sadly; Felix seems to have tried putting it as respectfully and vague as he could. You don’t support what that woman did for years one bit, but you also know how their fans can get so you’re glad Felix tries to stay neutral in public.

You glance up from your phone as the front door opens downstairs, and Felix comes up the stairs only a little later. Looking at him, you can tell he was crying, and your heart sinks to your stomach, seeing how tired he looks. His eyes meet yours, and you swallow softly as he stops in his tracks as if he just remembered you live here as well. “You’re okay?” you ask softly, and for the first time in weeks, Felix shakes his head.

“Not really, no,” he admits, his voice a little raspy. You can tell he’s fighting back tears, and you gently pat the spot next to you on the sofa. Felix momentarily searches your eyes before moving forward and dropping down on the sofa next to you. “I know it’s my own fault because I took off my wedding ring but I didn’t expect them to ask already,” he tells you quietly and nervously fidgets with his hands. “Chan told me to be honest before she comes up with something that’ll drag me down.”

“I think you’ve handled it quite well,” you tell him gently, and he groans in response.

“Already online, huh?” he sighs, and you hum softly. Felix throws his head back against the sofa and stares up at the ceiling. You can’t help but take in his side profile and let your eyes wander down his neck. “I hate this.”

“Hate what?” you ask gently.

“I have to have an explanation for everything as if I’d know why she cheated. Maybe it’s because I’ve been gone often with all our schedules. Maybe she got bored. Maybe she just saw past that facade of fame and sunshine behavior and realized I’m not as lovable as everyone thinks I am,” he huffs, making you frown at him. “Maybe she never loved me in the first place, and I can’t even blame her for that.”

“Stop it now,” you scold him firmly and Felix turns his head, blinking at you. “Have you ever considered that maybe she’s just a massive bitch and there is absolutely nothing wrong with you?”

“Not really, no,” he shakes his head and sits up straight again. “That’s rather unlikely, isn’t it? There’s always a reason people cheat.”

“Sometimes it’s simply stupidity,” you insist. “Not everything is your fault, Felix.”

“Why does it feel like it then?” he asks quietly, and your heart breaks at the desperate glint in his eyes. “Why does it feel like I’m the one who fucked it all up? And why doesn’t she care one bit, and I’m here feeling like complete shit?”

“Because you loved her,” you say quietly and watch his face fall. “She didn’t try to make it right, did she? She didn’t protest when you suggested a divorce.” Felix shakes his head, eyes brimming with tears. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe she never loved you for who you truly are. Maybe all she saw was the fame, the money, the places you went to…but how is that your fault?”

“I…I should’ve known,” he says quietly, his lower lip quivering a little.

“You can’t know that shit if they’re good at hiding and pretending. Who knows how long she could’ve kept up that show if you hadn’t come home early that day?” you ask, and Felix avoids your observant gaze, staring down at his hands. “The only thing you’re at fault for is beating yourself up for this and thinking you’re worthless.”

Felix remains quiet and presses his lips together tightly as hot tears run down his cheeks. His hair falls into his face as his head hangs low, and you can only tell as he sniffles softly. You hesitantly reach out for him and rub his back soothingly. Felix whispers an apology and buries his face in his hands, a quiet sob rippling through his body. You don’t know where you get the confidence from, but you move before you can reconsider what you’re about to do. Wrapping your arm around him, you pull him into a warm embrace and gently rub his shoulder. Felix tenses up briefly before he relaxes into your touch, allowing himself the comfort you spend.

It doesn’t last for all too long, and Felix pushes himself off the sofa, messily wiping his cheeks. “Sorry, I shouldn’t-,” he stammers and exhales shakily. “I shouldn’t dump this all on you.”

“I don’t-” you start and shut your mouth as he raises his hand to stop you.

“I know you don’t mind. I know,” he says and shakily wipes his cheek. “That doesn’t make it any better. I appreciate you trying to help, but I’ll go before I start unloading even more nonsense,” he sniffles and flashes you a sad smile. “Thank you, though.”

“You’re welcome,” you nod gently and watch him leave. Only then do you notice your heart racing in your chest and the wet patch of his tears in your sweater. “So much to keeping boundaries, Y/n,” you scold yourself, rubbing your face tiredly.

Felix closes the door to his room and buries his face in his hands with a soft groan. “What the fuck are you doing?” he whispers and stands still for a moment. What is he doing, sobbing in his daughter’s best friend’s arms? Is he going insane? Felix closes his eyes and tries to forget how comfortable your hug felt, how good you smelled, and how soothing your presence was to him. “Fuck,” he whispers into the emptiness of his room.

One week later

Your heart thumps loudly in your chest as you walk down the hallway, clutching your visitor pass. Your best friend asked you to pick up Felix from work tonight because she had to work late and would then stay at her boyfriend's again. Would he think weirdly of you for it? He's been avoiding you a little after that emotional breakdown a week ago, and you can't blame him.

You reach Chan's studio and knock gently, letting yourself in.

“Oh, Y/nnie,” Chan greets you cheerfully.

“Haven't seen you here in a while,” Minho adds curiously.

“Yeah, uh, I have to pick up Felix,” you say, and they frown.

“I thought-”

“No, she's working late and staying at her boyfriend's or something like that,” you shrug your shoulders.

“She asks you to move in so she isn't lonely and leaves all the time,” Minho shakes his head, amused. “Well, at least someone's keeping an eye on Lix, then.”

“Mhm, yeah,” you nod. “Where is he?”

“In the practice room down the hallway. Uh…he's in a shit mood today,” Minho tells you.

“Define shit mood,” you chuckle.

“Everything is shit, nothing works, he's useless,” Chan sighs softly and shakes his head. “We tried.”

You sigh heavily and roll your eyes. “Fine, I'll do my best.”

“Good luck,” Chan giggles.

Only a little later, you open the door to the practice room and slip inside. You frown as you spot Felix stretched out on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. “I swear, Channie, if you're here to tell me another bad joke that's supposed to make me laugh, I'll snap,” he announces.

You stop next to him and tilt your head at him. “Not Channie,” you say. “What's that supposed to be?” you ask, vaguely waving at his current position.

“It's my new favorite yoga position called utter depression,” he says dryly and throws you a peace sign. “That's I'm a failure, what's your name?”

“Chan wasn't lying,” you nod slowly.

“Did Chan call you? Seriously?” he asks, sitting up on his elbows.

“No. In fact, it was your lovely daughter asking me to come pick you up. She's working late, and then she'll stay over at her boyfriend's.”

“I still can't believe she asked you to move in so she wouldn't be lonely, and now she's barely home,” Felix snorts and groans softly.

“Mhm, you guys are repeating yourselves, Min said the same thing,” you tell him and gently poke his side with your shoe. “What's going on, Mr. utter depression?”

“Nothing, as you can see,” he sighs. “I fucked up during practice today. Minho only didn't call me out for all the mistakes because he felt sorry for me at the time,” he tells you.

“And that led you down the good old road to self-hatred?” you ask, sitting down on the floor next to him.

“Maybe,” he answers vaguely.

“Surely,” you correct him. “Lix?” you ask gently, and he turns his head toward you. “Have you eaten yet?”

“No,” he shakes his head as his eyes trace your features.

“We could take a walk and grab some food on the way. We don't have to talk or anything. It's just for you to clear your head and empty all that garbage you keep up there,” you tell him, tugging a small smile at the corner of his lips.

“Yeah, okay,” he nods.

You exchange your goodbyes with Min and Chan, who secretly throw some hearts your way when Felix isn't looking. Idiots.

After that evening, it all got easier again. You didn't talk much that day, but the fresh air, bright lights, and warm food had lightened Felix's mood immensely. Over the following two weeks, you two grew closer, and Felix allowed himself to be more open. With your best friend gone quite frequently, it was often only you and him.

The more time you spent together, the more you realized how ridiculously perfect Felix was. His beautiful brown eyes, soft features adorned by all those sweet freckles, and blond hair falling around his face made your stomach flip. His sweet smile and even prettier laugh made you feel like winning a trophy every time you were the reason for it. He's so kind and polite that it makes your head spin.

Felix can't quite stop himself from looking at you whenever you don't notice. The more time you spend, the more he notices how beautiful you are. How caring and gentle. Your smile brightens his days and he can't fully shake the longing to be in your arms again off. He hasn't felt as comfortable around someone in a while, and there's a lingering worry in the back of his head telling him that he really shouldn't allow himself to fall for you. It only gets worse watching you doing the most mundane things and wishing that you wouldn't leave again.

Another two weeks later your best friend announces she'll be abroad for a holiday with her boyfriend for two weeks. Two weeks. It'll only be Felix and you for fourteen days. That thought wasn't helping your anxious heart, trying not to fall for him at all.

You decided to make the best out of it and forget about your worries. Seeing Felix smile again was all that counted.

The first morning, Felix tiredly strolls down the hallway from his room and stops in his tracks when he sees you at the stove. A sweet scent lingers in the kitchen, and he realizes you're making pancakes for breakfast. His heart picks up pace, and he takes a deep breath, reminding himself to act normal. “Morning,” he says, not knowing that his even deeper morning voice sends shivers down your spine.

“Good morning,” you smile at him, bright as ever. He has to look somewhere else to stop himself from blushing. “Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes,” you tell him, and he hums softly.

Felix sits down at the kitchen island and watches you thoughtfully. It's ridiculous how used to your presence he got over the past few weeks. Almost as if he couldn't imagine it any other way anymore. “Do you have any plans for today?” he asks and you shake your head as you put the pancakes on a big plate.

“Why?” you ask curiously and turn off the stove.

“Uh, I was thinking about painting her room since she wanted a new color so badly…I was wondering if you'd like to help?” he asks nervously.

You put down the plate and nod. “Sure, why not?”

Felix flashes you a sweet smile and thanks you as you hand him a plate with some pancakes. They're so fluffy they almost melt on his tongue, and he has trouble biting back a moan. “Oh, they're amazing,” he tells you and notices the subtle blush settling on your cheeks.

“Thank you,” you smile almost shyly.

Seriously, can't you give him a break?

After breakfast, Felix takes a quick shower, and you put on some clothes that could be ruined by the paint. You meet again in your best friend's room, and you smile at how soft Felix looks in a pair of gray sweatpants and a wide sweater. You pull all the furniture away from the walls, covering everything up before Felix shows you how to apply the paint properly. In the beginning, you're both quietly working and it feels peaceful, just focusing on painting for now. Then Felix starts talking, trying to kill the silence. “I signed the divorce papers yesterday,” he says casually, and you need a moment to figure out how to answer.

“Congratulations?” you chuckle, and he laughs, realizing how out of pocket this has been.

“Sorry, that was pretty random,” he apologizes.

“No, it's fine. I'm glad you did,” you say, and he glances at you, making you ramble on quickly. “I mean, it's the right thing to do. Did you settle on anything? Does she demand stuff?”

“If she doesn't want my legal team to be less nice about the reason we're getting a divorce than I was, then she won't,” he tells you and sighs softly. “She has the old house, and I don't have to pay her anything. I'm glad when we're done with the whole process,” he admits tiredly.

“I bet you are,” you nod gently. “You deserve some peace after everything,” you say, and he hums softly, pressing his lips together briefly. “We can stop talking about it,” you assure him gently, and Felix nods thankfully.

“We need more paint,” he states.

“Well, we should let this dry anyway for today,” you nod and flash him a gentle smile. “We could go buy some more and then call it a day?”

“Sounds good,” he nods, rubbing his face tiredly, and turns toward you fully now.

“You've got some paint on your cheek,” you say, and he blindly reaches out to wipe it off. He doesn't quite get it and you step in front of him, reaching out for him. “Let me help,” you say and gently rub your thumb over his cheek, wiping the still fresh paint off.

Felix freezes in place, staring at you as you do so. He feels like the world stops for a moment but then your soft touch is already gone again. He exhales a breath he didn't know he was holding in and follows you outside. Fucks sake.

You wander through the store next to him and you end up buying some more stuff to decorate the house a little more. Felix's phone rings and you can tell it's Chan by the way his face lights up. He nudges your side after a moment. “You're hungry?”

“I could eat,” you nod.

“Min and Chan ask if we wanna stop by,” he tells you, and you shrug your shoulders.

“Sure, why not?”

Only shortly after, you reach their house, and your eyes widen, spotting the two small kittens on the carpet. “Oh, you have new ones?” you ask excitedly and Minho looks at you as if he's going to hit you.

“Or not?” you ask, chuckling.

Chan gently pokes his cheek and grins at you. “Yeah, we got them like a week ago,” he nods, and you crouch down as they make their way over.

“Can I hold them?” you ask, looking at Minho, and his face softens.

“If they let you,” he nods and tells you to sit down on the floor.

He picks up the first one and gently hands it over to you, making sure you hold it right. “He's usually very calm, so if you don't move too quickly, you should be fine,” he tells you and sits down, grabbing the second one. “She's a little rascal,” he smirks and gently scratches her head.

“They're so tiny,” you say, amazed.

“Here, he loves those,” Chan says, handing you a little treat.

You hold out your hand for the kitten, and he doesn't waste much time. You giggle at his tiny tongue licking over your palm and beam at Minho excitedly. Chan passes Minho and gently runs his hand through his hair mindlessly. Minho smiles softly and looks up at him so full of love you can't help but wish you'd find someone you shared the same type of deep love with. “Wanna help me set the table, Lix?” he asks, and Felix hums, following him, not after a quick glance in your direction to make sure you're alright.

Soon after, you're all gathered around the table, and you all thank Minho for cooking. Chan glances at Felix after a while and seems to debate whether he should ask what's going through his head. “Lix?” he asks, and his friend turns toward him. “How are you holding up?”

“I'm fine,” he smiles tiredly, and you know the question starts to bother him by now.

“You said that from day one,” Minho chuckles and tilts his head at him.

“No, I am. I signed the papers yesterday and then soon it'll all be over,” he explains.

“Have you met anyone new?” Minho asks curiously. “I mean, it's been almost two months.”

“Mhm, after ten years of a fake marriage. I still have time, don't you think?” he asks sourly.

Chan steps in, trying to ease the mood. “We're just worried about you getting lonely, Lix,” he tells him.

“I'd rather be lonely than that,” he says and rolls his eyes at them. “Not everyone finds the one and lives happily ever after from day one on,” he says, looking at the two of them.

“That's hardly realistic, nothing was perfect from day one,” Minho shakes his head.

“Not really, no,” Chan snorts and winks at him.

“Well, you're not me, so…,” Felix says quietly, and the mood changes.

“Meaning?” Minho asks patiently, even though you can tell he’d rather punch some sense into him.

Felix puts down his chopsticks and sighs heavily. “I'm way too emotional, I'm too shy to approach anyone or initiate anything further, I mess up stuff constantly and-.”

“Will you stop?” you cut him off, and everyone looks at you as if they're remembering you're still here. “You keep on talking shit about yourself, and you don't even realize you're letting her win.”

“I'm not letting her—” he frowns. Chan is about to speak up, but Minho stops him, resting his hand on his.

“Yes, you are. She used you for years, and you're still letting her by making it all your fault. As if she had no other choice but to go off and fuck around with whoever she found moderately fuckable,” you say, and he blinks at you, stunned as Chan chokes on his breath. “You're talented at what you do, you're hardworking, and you're one of the most caring people I know. You didn't have to, but you always made me feel at home when I visited your daughter. You haven't done any differently since I moved in, and as long as you aren't talking shit about yourself, you're pretty funny. And-.”

“Y/nnie,” he says softly, and it's the first time he's called you that. “Eat up; it's going to get cold.”

You quickly shut your mouth, ears burning up as you realize you've just been pretty open in front of Minho and Chan. “Yeah, okay, you better shut up then…respectfully.”

“Message received,” he smiles gently.

Minho raises his eyebrows and glances at Chan before moving his eyes between the two of you. Chan frowns before his eyes widen, and he squints at him. Minho widens his eyes and puts on a little passive aggressively encouraging smile, signaling him that, yes, he is VERY right about this.

“You can stop the eye fuckery over there, I'll get sick,” Felix calls them out, and you frown softly at Minho's mischievous grin.

“Y/n, what about you?” Minho asks curiously.

“You're playing cupid as a side business, or what is this?” you ask right back.

“Simply interested,” he gives back.

“I'm single if you must know so badly, and no, my self-esteem isn't drowning as much as Lix’s,” you say, and Felix pokes your side, protesting softly.

Chan watches you quietly before glancing at his husband and humming softly. Minho simply smirks.

Later, when it's time to leave, you hold your hand out for Felix, and he tilts his head at you questioningly. “Keys, please,” you smile.

“Huh?” he asks, amused.

“You had two drinks, I didn't have any, and I'm driving,” you tell him, stretching your hand out once more.

“Listen to her, Yongbokie,” Minho tells him, and Felix gives in and hands you the keys.

“That was really sweet,” Felix says, almost too quiet to hear.

“The kittens?” you giggle.

“Mhm, yeah, they too,” he nods and glances over at you. “I meant what you said…I uh... thanks.”

“Oh,” you nod and feel your heart warming at the softness in his eyes. “I meant it.”

“I know,” he whispers and can barely meet your eyes.

“You should give yourself more credit. Try seeing yourself through the eyes of the people you mean something to from time to time,” you say, parking the car in front of the house.

Felix looks at you, a little stunned. “I mean something to you?” he asks softly.

“Well, of course you do, Lixie,” you smile and lean over, brushing his hair back for him.

“Yeah?” he asks, eyes traveling down to your lips before he can fight it.

“Mhm,” you hum softly and search his eyes. Suddenly, you move forward and your lips meet in a soft kiss that has him melting in his seat. He reaches up to bury his hand into your hair and-.

“Felix? Felix, wake up,” you say gently.

“Huh?” he asks confused.

“Wake up, Lix, come on,” you say softly, daring to brush a loose strand from his face. “Come on, let's get you upstairs.”

Felix blinks at you drowsily and needs a moment to realize he's been dreaming—dreaming of kissing you. His face burns up red with embarrassment as your gentle eyes meet his, and he shoots out of his seat. “Yeah, sorry,” he stammers, and you watch him a little confused.

“You're okay?” you ask, closing the door for him.

“Sure, why wouldn't I be?” he asks, laughing nervously. Don't look at the lips. Don't.

“Man, you're weird when you get woken up,” you shake your head and unlock the front door, letting him in. Felix stumbles taking off his shoes, making you laugh. “Is alcohol having such an effect on you?”

“Mhm, yeah,” he lies, spotting his lifeline.

“Well, let's get you to bed then,” you say and gently pat his back, shoving him inside.

“I'll make it on my own, thank you,” he quickly says and wishes you a good night. He throws himself face forward onto his bed and groans into his blanket. “Fuck, no, Lix, you can't.” He turns onto his back and stares up at the ceiling, brushing his fingers over his lips. Groaning softly, he fumbles for his phone; he needs some clarity now.

“It's late, what the fuck, mate?”

“Jisungie, I fucked up,” Felix whines softly.

“Oh, please don't tell me you're drunk,” Jisung sighs softly. “Do I have to pick you up somewhere?”

“No,” he quickly assures him. “I just…there's this certain someone I can't stop thinking about, and…Ji, it's wrong!”

“I don't like the sound of this,” he states calmly. “Go on.”

And Felix does, spilling all his hurt, feelings of emptiness, and worthlessness. Telling him how you mend his heart, fill his entire being with happiness, and make him feel loveable. He confesses how he can't stop thinking about you, worrying how messed up this could get.

Jisung lets him ramble on and nods gently once he's done. “That's fucked up, mate.”

“I know,” he whispers.

“No, I don't think you know how bad that bitch fucked you up,” Jisung says, and Felix is too stunned to speak for a second. “Fucks sake, Lix! Where's my pretty boy getting all the girls, huh? When did you get all shy and scared? Did she fuck up your self-esteem that badly?”

“Ji, you're missing the point here,” he insists. “Everyone would think I'm using her, she's eight years younger. They'll make her a victim and-.”

“Lix,” he cuts him off firmly. “I'm that victim you're describing here, you do know that, right? My hubby is ten years older, Hyune’s wife is six years younger, and no one gives a fuck,” he tells him. “The thing you really can't take is the fact that she's your daughter's best friend.”

“That surely doesn't help,” he groans.

“Well, technically-.”

“She's my daughter, you can try and twist this how you want,” he shakes his head. “And she'll hate me if I act upon my feelings for Y/n.”

“All she wanted was for you to be happy. Why not with Y/nnie?” he asks gently. “Listen, buddy, you gotta figure out what you really want and then act accordingly. Stop sending her signals if you don't want this to evolve into something more.”

“I know,” he sighs softly. Fuck.

“Can you get the eggs?” you ask him as you pour some sugar into a bowl, weighing its content as you do.

“Sure,” Felix nods and his hand rests on your lower back for a brief moment, notifying you of him standing behind you to stop you from bumping into him.

You swallow softly at the lingering touch, and it's already gone again before you can't think much of it. Felix got home from the studio about an hour ago, and you two decided to surprise your best friend with a cake for her birthday tomorrow. At least she had planned to come back again for it. After quickly buying the ingredients, you two got busy in the kitchen. He's unusually clumsy, your hands brushed against each other four times already since you've started and you already bumped heads, both wanting to grab something off the floor he dropped. The brief touches and his soft eyes combined with that shy smile are slowly driving you insane.

Once you're all done you put it in the oven and set a timer, cleaning up the kitchen for now. You'll still need a few things for the icing later but you get rid of most of the mess for now. After loading the dishwasher, the 25 minutes are over, and Felix carefully takes it out. You leave it there to cool and throw yourself on the sofa.

Felix joins you and turns on the TV, putting on the next episode of the series you've recently started watching together. After a while, your head slowly drops onto his shoulder and it takes him a moment to realize you fell asleep. He cautiously wraps his arm around you to make you more comfortable and lets you rest against his chest. He tries not to think too much of it and chews on his lower lip nervously as he tries to pay attention to the screen.

As much as he tries to fight it, he's exhausted from their intense practice today, and his eyes grow heavier with every minute. It doesn't take long and he falls asleep as well, getting more comfortable and dragging you down with him in his sleep.

You wake up in his arms, your head resting on his chest. Your eyes widen in shock, and you fight the urge to jump up and get as far away from him as possible. You barely dare to lift your head. Glancing down at him, your heart skips a beat at how soft and vulnerable he looks in his sleep. His chest is slowly rising and falling, his hair hangs into his face and he looks so soft it makes you want to squish his cheeks. You admire the beautiful freckles painting his face as the fading sun caresses his golden skin. Gosh, he's pretty.

He moves in his sleep, tightening his grip around you and rolling you both onto your sides. Burying his face in your neck, he lets out a content sigh and pulls you in close. You bite your lip and curse yourself for wanting this so badly. You should really wake him up…but you couldn't. Not when he had a long day and finally got some rest. Not when he looked this content and peaceful. You couldn't.

You timidly rest your chin on his fluffy hair and wait for a moment, but he doesn't seem to mind. Carefully, you fondle his back and rest your hand between his shoulder blades. He doesn't stir one bit, and you decide to try sleeping some more as well.

You wake up again when he stretches in your arms, pulling back with a soft groan. Felix squints at you drowsily before he slowly picks up on your current situation. A blush creeps up his neck and colors his cheeks and ears. He pulls away and rolls onto his back with a soft sound, rubbing his face tiredly. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

“For what?” you ask gently.

“Uh…this,” he awkwardly gestures between the two of you. “I uh…I tend to get cuddly when I fall asleep. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable or-.”

“You didn't,” you say firmly, and he slowly glances at you.

“No?” he asks quietly.

“Not at all,” you assure him, and he hums gently in response. “You seemed like you needed it, so I let you sleep a little longer.”

“Oh,” he nods dumbly and searches your eyes timidly. “Okay.”

“Yeah,” you nod and smile at him. “I think we can finish the cake by now.”

“Probably,” he laughs and sits up.

The pair of you soon gets busy in the kitchen again and Felix turns on the mixer to finish the icing for the cake. It's a little too fast, and some of it lands on his sweater. “Fucks sake,” he curses softly before slowing it down.

You laugh at him, and he turns to you, raising his eyebrows. “Oh, you got some on your face,” you giggle and step in front of him. You cup his face gently with one hand, rubbing your other thumb across the icing on his forehead. “Keep still, Lixie,” you say and don't quite notice his lips parting at the new nickname. You move further down, wiping the bits on his cheek off, and only then you meet his eyes. They're wide and filled with thousands of questions and insecurities. “You're okay?” you ask worriedly.

Felix blinks at you before very slowly shaking his head. “I'm not okay,” he says, and you turn off the mixer, bathing the room in silence.

“What's wrong?” you ask and want to pull your hand off his face, but his hand wraps around your wrist keeping you there.

“I…,” he trails off, sinking deeper into your eyes, and you can see the sudden longing in them. It's pure and innocent, making you all dizzy the longer you look at him. “You're driving me nuts,” he confesses.

“Breathe,” you tell him before experimentally brushing your thumb over his lips. He exhales shuddery, eyes fluttering close at your touch. “Can I kiss you?” you ask.

“What?” he squeaks, eyes snapping back open.

“You heard me,” you say and tilt your head at him. “Can I?” Felix gulps before nodding timidly. You close the distance between the two of you, and your lips brush against his. A soft, quiet sound escapes him and then you're cupping his face and kissing him. Felix melts into the kiss, body searching yours as he grips your waist and stumbles a little, shoving you against the kitchen counter. He pulls back only to catch his breath and presses his forehead against yours. “You're okay?” you ask again. This time, he nods.

“Yeah,” he whispers with a soft smile. “I'm okay...”

PART TWO

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

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@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @kailee08 @mal-lunar-28 @lilmisssona @aaa-sia @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @michelle4eve @lixie-phoria @xxstrayland @kibs-and-bits @mellhwang @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @palindrome969 @harshaaaaa

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saph-cyare · 1 year

Text

Always and Forever.

Summary — Lately, Joel’s been feeling a certain way about you. All he needs is a little push from Ellie and his brother in order for him to take action.

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Warnings: Established relationship, cursing, mainly Ellie’s potty mouth, unprotected sex, P in V.

Genre: Fluff & smut

Rating: Mature

Joel doesn’t know what it is. He has no idea what’s gotten into him, or why he can’t seem to turn his focus to anything other than you. Everything else has seemed insignificant lately. His duties around Jackson feel as though he's only going through the motions until he can return to the comfort of your shared home, and to the domestic bliss of the household, just you, Ellie and him. Even out on patrols, Joel couldn't keep his thoughts from wandering back to you. It was only Tommy that had brought Joel out of his own head, only just stopping him from setting foot into an old, rusted bear trap.

And this morning is the same. Only this time, Ellie is the one to notice. The young girl eyes Joel from across the breakfast table, the beginning of a smirk playing on her face. He's turned halfway to look over the back of his chair, his watchful gaze fixed on your figure roaming the kitchen. His eyes finally break away from you, only to be met with a sly look from Ellie, as well as her ill-timed attempt to avert her eyes and straighten out her expression.

Joel opens his mouth to say something in response to her smart look, but yet again, his attention is pulled back to you, this time setting a fragrant cup of coffee in front of him and pressing a kiss to his temple. Joel's gaze follows you as you make your way back to the kitchen before returning with two plates in your hands, setting one in front of him and the other in front of Ellie. She takes note of your missing plate and swiftly turns to look at you.

“You aren't gonna eat with us?” You offer a grateful smile to her concern, taking your hand to gently smooth her hair back. “Can't today,”you respond. “I’m helping with breakfast in the dining hall this morning. I just wanted to make you both something before I left.” You smile at the both of them. “I’ll be home soon. Promise.”You plant a kiss atop her head before moving to the entryway of your home, and Joel gets up and follows after you.

He leans up against the wall of the entryway, head tilted as he watches you put on your shoes and coat. You finally look up at him once finished, and move towards him. His hands wrap around your waist, bringing you closer to him. You bring one hand up to his head, his eyes closing as your fingers begin to play with his curls.

“You gonna be okay without me?”

There’s a bit of teasing in your concern, but Joel only hums in response, too focused on the feeling of your fingers threading through his hair. “Don’t know,” he says. He opens his eyes to look at you. "Might just have to keep you here with me."

He moves his head to rest in your neck, placing a soft kiss over your pulse point. You let out a soft sigh at the feeling of his lips. You want to indulge in this feeling, but you know full well that if you let Joel go any further, you are not leaving the house this morning.

“Tempting,” you say. “But I promised Maria. I've got to go.” Joel only offers another hum against your skin as acknowledgment. “You sure?”

“Joel—”

You’re cut off when Joel begins to suck at a certain sensitive spot. He draws a gasp from your lips, followed by a soft moan, and you can feel him smirk against your skin. You sound divine. He wants to draw more sounds from you. He wants you to stay, wants to take you back to bed and keep you there for hours and hours. He wants to give you so much more.

But he knows it’ll have to wait.

Joel finally pulls back from your neck to look at you. Your breathing is uneven, and a warmth has now enveloped your skin. “Alright”, he says. He gives you a nod of approval, as if finally giving you permission to leave. Of course he does so after he’s gotten you all hot and bothered.

You huff out a breath. “You’re a tease, you know.”

He only shrugs. “I like giving you something to miss me by.” You give a humored scoff at his words.

This man.

Your hands move to cradle the sides of his face, and you can feel his scruff that you love so dearly beneath your fingertips. “Trust me, I’d miss you regardless.” You gently bring your lips to meet his. And when you pull away, Joel can’t help but marvel at you. This is the face of the woman he loves. You are the woman he loves. After everything that's slipped away from him, you are possibly the most precious of the few things he's gained. And you've stayed. Despite all that's been lost, you are a constant within Joel's life. He's grateful to whatever higher power there is that he has the privilege of holding you close to him. That you're his.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, and then rests his forehead against yours. "You come home as soon as possible. You hear me?"

"I will." You nod against his forehead. "Always."

Joel presses one last quick kiss to your lips before opening the door for you, allowing you to step out into the fresh spring air. Joel watches you from the porch as you make your way toward the town's dining hall. You briefly turn back towards the house and give him one last little wave before continuing down the road. He returns it, along with a smile on his face before stepping back inside.

Joel makes his way back to the dining table and to his breakfast, Ellie nearly finished with hers. He sits down, ready to enjoy the meal you’ve prepared. Before he can even begin to eat though, he looks up from his plate and meets Ellie's stare once again, her expression the same as the one she'd given him earlier that morning. Joel only stares back at her in confusion.

"Hell’s going on with you this morning?”

“The fuck’s going on with you!”

“Watch your mouth—”

“You can’t even be away from her for one second. You’ve been like this all week. Actually, no, you’ve been like this for a fucking month. At least.” She raises her eyebrows at him. Joel stares at her before turning his attention to his plate. “I don’t know what your talking about.”

“Bull. Shit.”

“Ellie—“

“You might as well just marry her already, It’s about time anyway—”

Joel freezes.

He can feel is entire body go stiff. It feels as though all of his basic motor functions have left him, leaving every single muscle reduced to motionless mass. He doesn’t even know if he can offer up a response. And when he finally does, all he can muster up is a weak “What?”

Ellie throws up her hands. “I said about damn time! I love her. You definitely love her, with you being all over her all the fucking time.”

The signature smirk of hers returns to her face for the nth time this morning.

“By the way, I see her neck in the mornings, you know—”

Joel looks like he might have a heart attack, and Ellie has to resist the urge to laugh at his mortification.

“Ellie.”

“Okay, alright, listen, all I’m saying is she makes you happy. It’s obvious.” Her tone gains some seriousness now. “And I think you should ask her. It’s not like she’s going to say no. I mean, she’s been with us this long, right?”

Joel’s silent. Not out of shock, but pondering. He’s absorbed all of what Ellie said.

Marriage.

It’s a thought that hadn’t really occurred to Joel. Occasionally, for only seconds at the most, it’s entered his mind during some little moments with you. When you’ve laid your head on his chest after a long day, when you sing and dance with Ellie, when you’ve carefully, lovingly patched him up after a rough day of patrol. And during all the times that he’s felt you with his hands, his mouth, memorized every inch of your body with his own.

These things, he wouldn’t mind keeping forever.

Maybe Ellie is right. Maybe it is time—

Joel’s pulled out of his thoughts by a soft knock at the front door. He sees Ellie jolt a bit at the sound, and he extends his hand in a small action of comfort. In spite of having been in Jackson for quite some time, some of the effects of the past still remain. Though, you’ve made it better for them both.

“Easy. ’s okay” She softens at his action and gives him a nod. Carefully, Joel goes to the door, Ellie following behind him, and cracks it just wide enough to get a glimpse of who stands on the other side. Tension leaves Joel’s body when he sees a familiar face.

“Hey, brother.”

“Tommy,” Joel opens the door wide, moving to embrace him. Tommy smiles, a hand patting Joel’s back, before he extends an arm out to hug Ellie.

“What brings you over?” Joel asks.

“Maria and the little one are out at the dining hall, with your girl, I think. Thought I’d stop by, see what you were up to.”

Joel can’t help the feeling of pride he gets when he hears his brother refer to you as ‘his girl’. Joel pushes it aside as he invites Tommy further into the house, taking his coat.

Ellie returns upstairs to finish getting ready for the day as Joel leads Tommy to the couch. “You want a drink or anything?”

Tommy shakes his head at the offer, smiling. “Just coffee, if you have it.”

Joel pours Tommy a mug, and takes his own unfinished one from the dining table before joining him on the couch.

“You doing okay?”

Joel looks at his brother in slight confusion. “Yeah…why?”

“I mean, considering that you just offered me liquor at 9 A.M…” Tommy gives a small gesture of his hands to make the point. “Something on your mind?”

Joel doesn’t know whether to be grateful or to curse at the fact that his brother can read him this well.

“I just…” He pauses for a moment, thinking about how on earth he should even bring this up to his brother. Joel sighs before speaking.“How’d you know?”

Tommy turns to him. “Huh?”

“Maria.” Joel clears his throat. “How’d you know when, uh—“ Joel pauses again, but Tommy catches on quickly and offers his brother a comforting smile. “I think I just woke up one morning, and I realized that I wanted to wake up beside her for the rest of my life.”

Something within Joel clicks at Tommy’s words. He feels like that. Hell, he’s felt that way about you for longer than he can even remember. Tommy observes his brother and then speaks. “So,” he begins. “You thinking about it?” Joel is silent for a moment. “Bout what?” is all he says. He picks up his mug and drinks, making sure to avoid eye contact with Tommy.

“C’mon, Joel.”

Joel sets the mug down and sighs. “Ellie said something earlier today.”

“Kid’s smart,” Tommy says.

Joel shakes his head. “Too much for her own good.”

Tommy chuckles at him before speaking again.

“For what it’s worth; I think you should.”

Joel turns to look at him and finally makes eye contact with his brother.

“Listen, I ain’t seen you this happy since…” He trails off, but both him and Joel know what he was thinking. “She’s just changed you. Really changed you. Ever since you got together, theres just been this shift in you. I can see it. We all can. Me, Maria, hell, even Ellie, you said it yourself.” Tommy holds a soft expression on his face.

“She’s good for you, and for Ellie. She’s sweet, she’s kind, and don’t kill me for saying it, but she’s beautiful, Joel. Inside and out.”

Tommy looks Joel right in the eye.

“Do it, Joel.”

Joel absorbs Tommy’s words, and he knows that he’s right. About all of it. You have changed him, in a way that he never thought possible. After everything, Joel never thought he would feel completely physically or emotionally secure again. He never thought he would be able to have a full night of rest, without being taunted by unwanted memories and waking to an empty bed. Never thought he would be able to hold someone again, kiss someone again, touch someone again. Love someone again. But he does. He has all of these things now, because of you. And he’ll be damned if he ever loses it.

He’s going to marry you.

Joel nods at before finally speaking.

“I’m gonna do it.”

Tommy smiles widely at his brother’s words. “Well, alright then.” He pats Joel on the back as he gets up from the couch. “Vamos, hermano.”

“Where are we going?”

Tommy smiles at him.

“The metalsmith.”

The rings only took three hours each to be made; six hours that Joel spent thinking of how to ask you to spend the rest of your life with him. He had gotten two gold bands made, one for you and one for himself. To his disappointment, it wasn’t possible to add a stone to yours, but he was able to add something else.

“You feeling good about it?” Tommy asks him as they walk home from picking up the rings. Ellie walks in front of them, just out of earshot.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

“When are you gonna do it?”

Joel pauses before responding. He’s already waited all this time. He doesn’t know if he can wait anymore.

“Tonight, I think.”

Tommy smiles, and Joel already knows how thrilled Tommy is. Ellie, too. When they had gone to the metalsmith, she had nearly freaked out when she had found out that Joel was in fact going to propose. But he couldn’t even blame her, she was right. It was about damn time.

The three of them stop when they make it to the front steps of the house.

“I can take Ellie tonight,” Tommy offers.

“You sure?” Joel asks. “You don’t have to do that, especially with Maria, and the little one—”

“Are you kidding? Maria would love having her over, and the baby could use someone to play with.” Tommy then slightly raises his eyebrows at Joel.

“Give you guys the house to yourselves tonight?”

Joel knows what he’s insinuating. Hesitantly, he nods. “Thank you, Tommy.”

Tommy just smiles at his brother. The three of them make their way up the steps and enter the house to find you preparing dinner in the kitchen. You turn and smile at the sight of them, greeting Tommy with a hug before giving Ellie a kiss. Joel stands, rather impatiently, waiting for his turn to have your affection.

You finally break from Ellie to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“That’s all?” He mutters.

“Well, hello to you too,” You can’t help but chuckle at his pettiness. “Are you guys hungry? Dinner’s almost ready.”

Tommy speaks up. “Actually, Ellie and I were about to head out. She’s gonna spend the night at me and Maria’s.”

You’re eyebrows raise in surprise. “Oh?” You turn to look at Joel, giving him a soft smile. “I guess it’s just me and you tonight.”

Those words make him more anxious than they should.

Once Ellie’s grabbed some clothing from upstairs, and you say goodnight to Tommy and Ellie. As Joel bids his brother good night, Tommy whispers to him as they hug.

“You’ve got this, Joel.”

God, he hopes he’s right.

The two of them leave you and Joel alone for dinner. He asks about your day, and you tell him about his little niece, what you had baked today, the town gossip you had heard from Maria. He listens intently, hanging onto your every word, and thanks the Lord that you don’t pry with questions about what he had been up to today.

You both make your way upstairs after dinner to unwind for the night. And this is when Joel begins to panic just a little. It’s getting later and later. He goes through the words in his head, thinking of what to say as he freshens up. Just before you’re about to undress and change into your sleepwear, he stops you.

“You wanna go sit on the porch with me?” He asks. “Still a nice evening.”

To his relief, you say yes.

“That sounds like a good idea,” you smile at him. “Meet you there?”

Joel nods at you. “Meet you there.”

He watches you leave the room, making your way downstairs. Joel isn’t sure what his plan is, exactly. But before he leaves to follow after you, he spots his guitar leaned against the bedroom wall. He grabs it, and brings it with him.

When he walks out, he turns to see you already seated on the porch swing. You sit up at the sight of him, guitar in hand, and can’t help but smile at the sight.

“You’re gonna play me something?”

He smiles, gives you a small one shoulder shrug before sitting beside you. “It’s been a while. Thought maybe you would like it.”

“You were right.”

He turns to look at you, smiling softly. He positions his guitar in his lap, left hand holding the neck, hovering about the frets.

“Anything requests?”

You shake your head. “Surprise me.”

Joel knows exactly what to play for you.

He begins to strum the opening notes of the song, fingers moving effortlessly against the frets. His voice is deep and rich as he sings. He’s so completely immersed in the moment, eyes closed, trusting his fingers and voice to do all the work.

When he’s finished singing, he turns to look at you, and it’s evident that he’s searching for your reaction, your approval. You smile softly at him before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to make me fall in love with you again.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “So it worked then?”

You gently brush his shoulder with yours, chuckling at him. He doesn’t think he could ever tire of that sound. Right now, in this moment, Joel thinks you’re the most beautiful thing in the world. The sinking sun paints your face lilac and deep blue, making your skin glow. And he knows it’s time.

“I uh—”

He stops abruptly, causing you to look up at him. His eyes are cast down, nervously fixed on the wood of his guitar.

“I’ve been thinking, and I just…” He trails off again. Your expression morphs into one of concern.

“Joel?”

He doesn’t respond. He simply begins to remove his guitar from his lap and allowing it to take his spot before moving off of the swing.

And he’s on one knee.

His hand travels behind his back and into his rear pocket to retreive a small leather box.

Suddenly all the air is gone from your lungs. It’s only the sound of Joel clearing his throat that forces you to snap out of your shock.

“Haven’t always the best at communicating. But, you probably already know that better than most.”

His words draw a choked laugh from your lips, and Joel’s finally drawn out of his nerves. He brings his gaze to meet the sight of your eyes, your soft smile, and it takes everything in him to not break right then and there.

No amount of recitation was preparation enough for this moment. He tries to find his words, speaking slowly.

“It hasn’t been easy. I know that. But you were patient. Always so damn patient with me.” He pauses. “You opened me up a little more. I uh…” Joel stops. Screw the words, whatever he had planned on saying before. He just wanted to let this moment be.

Joel opens up the box to reveal the ring, and you think you feel your heart stop beating.

“It’s just uh—it’s just gold. I wasn’t able to add a diamond or anything.” You almost want to laugh out of disbelief. He’s apologetic about it, but you could not even care less. The fact that he’s kneeling for you, ring in hand, the fact that Joel wants to be your husband, that he wants you to be his wife; that is more than enough. More than you could have ever dreamed. But there’s more.

“It isn’t much or anything, but if you look on the inner side of the ring…” His voice trails off. Curious, you look closer at the ring slightly to see a cursive engraving in the gold.

‘Always and Forever - J.’

If you weren’t crying before, you sure as hell are now.

Tears in your eyes well up as Joel says your name, and the quiver in his voice tells you there might be some in his own as well.

“I want you with me, always. It took me too damn long to realize. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t mine—I don’t even wanna think about it. All I know is that I need you. For the rest of my life, I need you. I need to have you with me. I need to be the only one to fall asleep next to you, the only one to wake up next to you. I want you, need you, always, for the rest of my life. Please; will you let me have you?”

He pauses and swallows hard, before finally summoning the words. Those words.

“Will you marry me?”

Your words are caught in your throat. Joel’s eyebrows are knitted tightly, nervously awaiting a response, something, anything from you.

But no words come.

You lower yourself off of the swing, mirroring Joel and kneeling onto the wood of the porch, facing him.

You have no words to speak; you only bring your hands to cradle the sides of his face, and softly connect your lips with his.

Joel’s kissed you countless times before, just as you’ve kissed him. But never has a kiss between the two of you felt like this. Never this tender. Never with this much pure, raw emotion behind it.

When you pull away, you rest your forehead against his gently. You softly nod.

“Yes,” you whisper, your voice shaky.

“Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Joel isn’t breathing. He gently pulls away to look at you, and for a moment it’s completely silent, save for the soft sound of the crickets in the night. And then it’s hits him.

Yes. You said yes.

Joel huffs out a breathless laugh, followed by one of your own. Tears that he hadn’t been aware of begin to fall, trailing down his cheeks as he goes to kiss you again, his lips colliding with yours. When you pull away, you both can’t help but laugh again, perhaps just out of the sheer disbelief or joy. Joel realizes that the open leather box still sits in his lap. He exhales deeply before removing the ring from the velvet of the box and holding it out towards you.

“Here,” his voice is heavy as he offers his other hand out to you. “Let me.”

You place your left hand in his, and he slips the band onto your finger ever so gently. The fit is perfect, and the gold shines under the warm glow of the porch lamp.

Joel intertwines your fingers with his as he kisses you again. It’s deeper, there’s a passion lying behind it that wasn’t there before. Joel’s tongue swipes against your bottom lip, a small tease before he pulls away. You nearly whine at the loss, but Joel stands up, offering you his hand. You understand instantly, eager to be back inside of your home.

He grabs the neck of his guitar from the porch swing before pulling you both inside, kicking the front door shut behind him. He leans the guitar next to the doorframe before turning back to you, guiding you up the stairs and into your bedroom.

As soon as the door shuts, Joel’s wastes no time kissing you again deeply, trying to savor the feeling of his lips on yours. He bites your bottom lip and he nearly wants to smirk at the little gasp that escapes you. His hands wrap around around your waist, holding you flush against him as he begins to kiss down your jaw. He dips lower, nipping at your pulse before soothing it with his tongue. You let out a pleasured sigh at the feeling of his lips on you. He knows you’re eager, and so is he, but he’s taking a different approach tonight.

He wants to show you how he feels for you, beyond words. He needs to.

His hands come to the hem of your shirt, lifting the edge slightly. He pulls away, his deep brown eyes looking into yours.

“Can I take this off you, sweetheart?”

You nod your head eagerly, allowing him to undress you. He removes your shirt and bra, tossing them aside. He allows himself to take in the sight of you for just a moment, before moving to the waistband of your bottoms and removing them as well.

“Lie down for me.”

It doesn’t take much for you to comply, coming to rest on the bed. Joel undresses in front of you, removing his shirt to reveal his soft body, dark hair starting from his navel, and trailing down, below the waistline of his jeans. You swallow hard at the sight, before he joins you on the bed. He hovers above you, one sturdy forearm holding himself up as his other hand gently brushes your hair back. He presses a chaste kiss to your lips before moving back down to your neck once more.

Joel lips trail down past your collar bone and to your chest, beginning to nip and suck at the sensitive flesh. He leaves dark love marks littered against your skin, languidly kissing his way down your belly until his lips stop just at the waistband of your panties.

“Lift your hips for me, baby.”

Your breath hitches and you can feel a warmth within you beginning to bloom at his words. You do as he says, allowing him to slip the fabric down your legs before discarding it on the floor. He looks down at you hungrily, pupils dilated and lips parted as he hooks his arms beneath your legs, settling between your thighs. He nearly groans at the sight of you completely exposed for him, and he can feel himself growing harder, straining in his jeans. “All mine,” he whispers, mouth hovering just over your center. “You’re all mine.” You can feel the heat of his breath against your wetness and you need him.

“Joel, please—”

He cuts you off with a long swipe of his tongue, drawing a gasp from you. He continues his movements, applying pressure to your clit with each lap of his tongue. He braces your legs with his arms, pulling you closer to him. He does not even give you a chance to open your mouth as he takes your clit fully into his mouth, beginning to suck. A moan falls from your lips, and he smirks into your pussy at the sound, continuing to devour you. It’s not long before you feel a finger teasing your entrance. Joel looks up at you, eyes asking for permission. You give him a pleading look, and he knows it’s all the permission he needs.

Joel slides slowly slides in his middle finger, before adding another. You can’t help but gasp at the feeling, his fingers thick and long inside you. He curls his fingers inside of you, pressing against a spot that has you arching your back for him. He accompanies the movement of his fingers with his tongue, lapping at your clit fervently.

You can feel the heat within your lower belly increasing by the second. The combination of his tongue and his fingers inside you bring you closer and closer to the edge. Joel can feel you tightening around his fingers and he knows he’s nearly got you where he wants you.

He focuses in on the sound of your little pants and moans of his name, drinking in your sounds as he speeds up his movements.

Your hand comes to meet his head, fingers threading through his curls and tugging lightly. He groans into you at the slight pull, and the vibration is all you need to finally be sent over the edge, and he takes it all, swallowing, wanting to savor your taste.

Your chest heaves as you perch yourself up on your elbows, coming down from your high. Joel presses a kiss to your thigh, smiling softly at you. Despite the numbness in your legs, you sit up on the bed. Still between your legs, Joel stands from his kneeling position at the foot of the bed and leans down to kiss you. You sigh into the kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. Your hand trails down to the waistband of his pants, eager to pleasure him, to give him something in return, when he stops you, his hand grasping your wrist gently. He shakes his head, smiling softly at your eagerness.

“Not tonight,” he says. Any protest you might have had is silenced as he presses a kiss to your neck, gently pushing you to lay back further on the bed. “Wanna take my time with you,” he speaks in between kisses to your skin. “Wanna make you feel good. You gonna let me make you feel good?”

You nod your head. “Yes. Please, Joel.”

He sits up quickly on his knees, his eyes fixed on yours as he undoes his belt, letting his jeans fall before finally removing his boxers. His arousal is evident, the head of his cock wet with pre-cum.

Joel leans down to be on top of you, bringing himself to your entrance, running the head of his cock gently against your slit before pushing the tip in slowly

“Joel,” you gasp at the feeling, and he presses a kiss to your forehead. “I’ve got you, baby.” He rests his forehead against yours as he pushes in deeper, letting out a deep groan when he finally bottoms out inside you. He’s a stretch, but he gives you a moment to adjust to his girth. “You alright?” He asks. You nod, giving him the go ahead to move.

Joel pulls his hips back slightly before his hips meet yours, giving you the first thrust, slow and deep. You both let out a groan at the feeling and Joel gives you another, drawing a sweet whine from your lips.

He sets the perfect pace, strokes long and hard inside you. With each thrust of his hips, his cock hits that spot that nearly makes you tremble. Joel groans into your shoulder, nearly losing himself in the way you feel around him. He moves his forehead from yours to get a good look at you, and gosh, you’re a sight. Your eyebrows knit together, lips parted as little moans escape you from each thrust of his hips against yours. He kisses you with reckless abandon, swallowing your moans with his lips as he thrusts, strokes hitting deeper.

“All mine. You’re all mine, you hear me?”

You nod, overwhelmed by his words and each spearing movement of his cock inside of you.

“Yours,” you breathe out. “I’m all yours, Joel.”

Joel groans at your words, his thrusts growing deeper and harder, and that familiar feeling in your core returns, intensifying at each thrust. You squeeze around him, and he brings his hand to intertwine with yours, just above your head. You’re close to nearing your peak, breath growing more ragged and your moans turning to whimpers. The knot in your core is about to come undone and Joel can feel it, close behind you.

“Come on my cock baby, let me feel you. I’ve got you.”

With one last hard thrust, you come undone around him, crying out his name. “Atta girl,” he whispers against your skin just before reaching his own release, moaning into your ear as he fills you up. “That’s my good girl.”

He rests on top of you for a moment, panting into your neck before carefully unsheathing himself from you, and laying at your side.

You take in the sight of him, silver curls damp on his forehead with perspiration, his chest rising and falling. You steady your breath before speaking.

“When—?” You hesitate, unsure of how to broach the topic. Joel lifts his head to look at you. “When what?”

You draw in a breath.

“The wedding,” It’s the first time you say it out loud. You’re marrying Joel. Your Joel. All of the dry wit, all of the Southern charm. Every part of him is yours. “When did you want-”

“Yesterday.”

You laugh at him and he only smiles at you, both knowing that his eagerness is shared. He presses a kiss to the bridge of your nose. “As soon as possible. Whenever you want.”

Joel brings your closer into his arms, holding you tight.

“Gonna take care of you.” Joel lays a kiss on your forehead, so light, you barely register it in your blissed out daze.

He presses another kiss to your hair. “Gonna keep you safe.”

Your lips curve into a soft smile before planting a kiss to Joel’s neck.

“I know.”

You’ve never been more certain of anything in your life.

Author’s Note 📝🪶 : Hi :) This is my first time writing so if you made it here, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller #the last of us x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff

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astonmartinii · 1 year

Note

What about Charles just posting his girlfriend (Toto’s daughter) on her birthday, and he gets her like a bunch of expensive gifts and all the drivers make their own posts cause everyone really likes her?

birthday wishes | charles leclerc instagram au

pairing: charles leclerc x wolff!reader

it's grid princess y/n wolff's birthday - also known as an f1 national holiday

mercedesamgf1

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 721,078 others

tagged: yourusername

mercedesamgf1: did you hear? it's our own y/n wolff's birthday - an f1 national holiday (it's good to see she's always bothered everyone with a microphone)

view all 77,056 comments

yourusername awwwwwww thank yewwwww xx

susiewolff happy birthday baby xx

user44 why is the wolff family so fucking iconic

lewishamilton favourite wolff (don't fire me toto)

charles_leclerc <33333

yourusername added to their story

[caption: my lovely boy]

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, pierregasly and 1,089,566 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: happy birthday to the love of my life, you make everyday worth living and make me the happiest i've ever been. there's no one i'd rather holiday with, argue about racing with and spoil than you xx

view all 104,561 comments

user34 omg i need a love like theirs

yourusername i love you so much pretty boy xx

georgerussell63 toto just fell to his knees in the factory

user77 lmaooooooooo

pierregasly my feet still hurt from these shopping trips

lewishamilton

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 1,223,457 others

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton: happy birthday little sister - another year of causing chaos and giving toto a heart attack every three working days

view all 81,756 comments

user89 i love their sibling relationship

mercedesamgf1 our favourites (and george)

yourusername awww love you lew xx

pierregasly

liked by yukitsunoda0511, yourusername and 541,234 others

tagged: yourusername

pierregasly: happy birthday to my favourite member of our weird triangle - please share the gifts charles got you i picked most of them out

view all 12,678 comments

user45 this weird platonic throuple is my favourite thing ever

yourusername i love you and thank you but stop kissing my bf

yukistunoda0511 happy birthday y/n !! BUT WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CHEATED ON ME PIERRE ???

user66 the domestic in this comment section right now

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 611,203 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: happy birthday to my favourite drinking partner let’s never get so drunk that we get locked on the balcony and have to get charles to let us back in

view all 24,089 comments

yourusername you said we'd never bring that night up again (thank you for the gifts xx)

charles_leclerc keep bringing it up max cause i still haven't recovered from the jumpscare of you guys on the balcony on a random matress

user67 i love how y/n and charles brought charles and max back together defo an underrated friendship

alexalbon

liked by lilymunhe, yourusername and 112,098 others

tagged: yourusername

alexalbon: happy birthday to the only one the albon pets actually likes !! hope you enjoyed the mouse horsey caught for you

view all 9,876 comments

yourusername it was my favourite gift obvs xx

charles_leclerc i literally brought you everything you ever mentioned wanting

yourusername horsey committed a federal crime for me sharl

georgerussell63 you're telling me they never loved me ???

alexalbon they tolerated you

landonorris

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 321,086 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: haps baps to my dj mom and the only person as bad as me at putting furniture together enjoy the ikea cabinet i got you

view all 14,359 comments

user321 that stream of them trying to put the most simple thing from ikea together was the funniest thing i've ever seen

yourusername thank you so much lando (that's not coming out of the box until dad visits)

user459 of course she was the one teaching him to dj

martingarrix am i joke to you?

mickschumacher

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 439,667 others

tagged: yourusername

mickschumacher: happiest of birthdays to my travel partner - thank you for always looking after my passport and i hope you enjoy the holiday i managed to book without your help for once !!

view all 14,501 comments

user78 omg the return of mick and y/n travel vlogs???

yourusername i'm so so excited mickey thank yeww

charles_leclerc pls don't steal her for long

danielricciardo

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 607,893 others

tagged: yourusername

danielricciardo: happy birthday champ - now i'm on permenant off season should we actually go on man v food??

view all 17,893 comments

yourusername i'm so down for that

charles_leclerc easy for you to say you don't have to deal with you being sick in the car

danielricciardo lmao not my problem

yourusername

liked by f1, charles_leclerc and 2,093,144 others

yourusername: thank you all for making this birthday the best one yet + i love you so much charlie thank you for everything xx

note: thank you for the request lovely hope you liked it xx

#f1 #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc instagram au #charles leclerc instagram edit #charles leclerc x reader

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thisthatpinkvenom · 8 months

Text

GIVE HER A LITTLE POW-POW ON HER BABYMAKER

BUSINESSMAN!SAN / HOUSEWIFE!FEM READER

⤏ Synopsis: What Bibi said in "Automatic" but make it domestic.

⤏ Genre(s): drabble*, smut smut smuttity smut but I think it's kinda cute(?) 😗

⤏ Content: rich married couple!au, established relationship!au, non-idol!au, housewife!fem reader who knows how to cook (sorry to anyone who's not a MasterChef)

⤏ NSFW Warning(s): just straight up fucking, unprotected, breeding kink but it's more than a kink, creampie, light choking, light dirty talk, soft dom!San (my knees are weak), lots of swearing left and right, lots of yearning and pet names and it's kinda lovey-dovey but hey, what else do you expect from me at this point

⤏ Note*: this content is completely fictional.

"Ngh...l-let me make you feel g-good."

"Trust me; you already are..."

Earlier that evening, the familiar jingling of keys as the elevator doors opened and signaled San's arrival. His bag dropped to the floor with a thud before he stripped himself of his coat and undid his tie with a grimace on his face. He looked irritable, though the lines on his forehead ceased to be visible when he'd heard your feet padding across the floor to carry you into his embrace. A sequence of small and innocent pecks progressed into longing kisses and relieved sighs. And before you knew it, you were in the nude and on your bed, getting the pounding you'd been daydreaming of all day.

The bed never ceased its squeaking as your husband fucked you from behind. With your hand's iron grip on the headboard—that further continued to dig the dent in the wall deeper—your thighs trembled under all the weight you stressed onto your knees. Your back was flush against his abdomen, skin sticking with his through sheens of sweat. You were fortunate to live in a penthouse that offered you more privacy and freedom to fuck like rabbits, or else you would've received a very heated complaint for the incessant banging on your wall alone.

"This bed's f-fucking annoying," he grunted, frustration communicated through his hand which squeezed your breast in its clutch. "Need a new one, for fuck's s-sake."

You'd never voiced your complaints about the bed frame before, its sensitivity to any movement you made becoming a nuisance to your ears. You wanted to discuss going out and buying a new one but the right time hadn't come yet. Frankly, San had too much packed into his schedule, and you didn't want to pile any more things on his to-do list.

"I-I've been—ah—wanting t-to talk to you about t-that…"

Gradually, his thrusts became tamer until he stopped. The hand on your breast fell to your hip as he sat back on his heels, pulling you with him in the process. Your heart's drumming in your ears and you're trying to catch up with your own breath.

You didn't need to see to know the frown that made its way to his face. "Sannie—"

"And why am I only hearing this now?"

"You're so busy, and I didn't want to bother you. It wasn't a big deal, anyway," you reasoned.

His nose brushed the nape of your neck before he placed an open-mouthed kiss on your collarbone. "Mm, that's silly. Your concerns are my concerns. You should know that already, Baby."

Thank God, you were sitting. Otherwise, you would've melted to your knees if he kept this up. Fuck.

"I'll always try to make room for you," he continued, "no matter how hard it may be." His words melted under the soft sucks his lips made on your neck, his fingers having found your clit to toy with. "How about we go get a new one, this weekend? Then I can fuck you without all the noise."

Your walls clenched around his cock, earning a hiss and a chuckle vibrating on your skin.

"Ride me."

You set a steady pace when you began to work yourself on his lap, the squeaking commencing once again with every bounce you made on his cock. Despite the very vocal bed frame, the squelching from between your thighs couldn't be ignored either—the wet, little mess that your husband liked to play around with so much.

His other hand made its way up to your neck, his thumb and fingers gently pressing themselves into either side. The pressure had your eyes seeing black while your hands searched for his wrists, nimble fingers enclosing around them for any sense of stability. You really needed release, the flesh of your ass and thighs rippling with each hard smack against him.

"One day, I'll make time to put a baby in you. My baby," he rasped, the grip on your neck stiffening for a brief moment. "Ah, fuck…how does that s-sound, Honey?"

You clenched your teeth, eyes squeezed shut at the mention of being knocked up. And when you thought you couldn't be any more wetter, he'd proven you wrong.

"Oh, my God…d-don't say things you don't mean, Baby," you whined.

The pads of his fingers pressed deeper on your clit as they continued to draw circles on the nub.

"I fucking mean it. I always keep my promises."

Everything was just too much for you, your senses were stimulated to oblivion and you couldn't handle it any longer. The inevitable tension of your aroused pussy gave his cock a vice-like grip as you began to see speckles of noise behind your heavy eyes.

"Gonna cum, gonna cum—Sannie, I-I'm gonna fucking cum," you cried. Salt laid on your tongue from the tears that flowed freely down your cheeks, while the hand on your neck moved to your jaw.

He turned your face to his and shoved his tongue between your lips, pausing briefly to murmur, "I know, Baby. I know."

A trembling, soaked pile of mush was all you were at that moment. Putty under his touch, while you let him fuck your sensitive walls until he spurted a warm, white mess inside you. Your hips rocked slower until they settled to a halt, and your wet kisses had become tender. Nothing about this was funny, but you couldn't help but giggle, your teeth knocking against San's while the bliss was still clouding your mind.

"Lunch was really delicious as usual, by the way. Thank you, Honey."

Your thumbs declared a half-hearted war with each other, fiddling with no serious direction. You faced him, lying on your sides with lopsided smiles shared just between the two of you. The soft whirring of the air conditioner filled the room. Otherwise, you were undisturbed.

"You're welcome," you responded dreamily.

He shuffled closer to you, the bed squeaking once again.

"So, what's for tomorrow?"

You grinned, a playful glint in your narrowed eyes. "It's a secret. You can't open it until lunchtime. And don't even try, I know everything."

"Didn't I say your concerns were mine?"

"This one's an exception."

He smirked. "What if I gave you that baby in exchange for knowing what's for lunch tomorrow? Starting right now."

Your cheeks grew warm when the tip of his nose kissed yours.

"You play a really hard bargain."

#ateez smut #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez timestamps #ateez x reader #ateez drabbles #choi san smut #ateez san smut #san smut #ateez hard thoughts #ateez hard hours

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angelltheninth · 1 year

Note

genshin men seeing you doing domestic things and just fucking you right there and then 🤌

Domestic and sexy, that is the number one combo.

Pairing: Kaeya, Diluc, Itto, Xiao, Gorou, Childe, Dottore, Pantalone, Baizhu, Kaveh, Al-Haitham, Zhongli x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, domestic fluff, kitchen sex, couch sex, table sex, clothes sharing, bath sex, neck kissing, blowjob

A/N: I really like this format of writing, I might do it more often.

COOKING FOOD - Itto, Childe

The smell of warm food is delicious but not as delicious as your pussy when he pushes you up on the table and spreads your legs, gingerly licking up your thighs, riling you up before lapping and kissing between your legs with gusto. He appreciates the food you worked so hard to make, but right now he would prefer to have his fill of you, fill you up later and then you can eat. He'll even help you with dessert.

"That looks good babe, my favorite. Oh! You thought I meant the food. Well, yeah, that looks good too but I was talking about you. You don't get it? Let me show you then. That was a cute sound, you're cute when you yelp. Open your legs for me, let me show you what I mean."

READING - Diluc, Xiao, Pantalone, Al-Haitham, Zhongli

Just a simple thing like reading when combined with him missing you all day and him seeing you in his big shirt is enough to arouse him. His cock is rock hard when he walks up to you, offering it to you to suck and kiss. Take it slow because he wants to enjoy this. In the mean time he will read you the book out loud, make sure to pay attention alright?

"Still reading that book honey? Its not more interesting then I am, is it? Really? Tell me then, do you want it, or maybe my cock instead? I've been thinking about you all day, all those hours apart. Don't worry about your book, I'll read it too you, if you can pay attention to two things at once."

CLEANING - Kaeya, Dottore, Kaveh

Not that he doesn't appreciate you cleaning up the place while he was at work but really, you could have waited for him. He would have helped. You work so hard, as hard as him, let him take some of your stress away. He pushes you over the couch, mouth on your neck, making you whimper and back up against him. You look really pretty in that apron but its all dirty now, so naturally he has to take it off you and see where else you need to clean up.

"There isn't a spec of dust here anymore. Good job beautiful, really good. Could have waited for me though. I can lend you a helping hand now if you want. With what? Well you look really stressed, and I just so happen to know a few methods to release that stress."

TAKING A BATH - Gorou, Baizhu

Since you're not in bed by the time he comes home he goes into the bathroom next, a soft smile on his face when he finds you in the middle of getting into the bath. Go right ahead, he could use one too, its been a long day and there's nothing better then taking a relaxing bath with you. Only neither of you can relax with his hard cock poking at you. The water is already warm but you could always warm his cock up a little more with your pussy.

"Taking a bath sweetheart? No, no, its alright. I wanted some cuddles from my favorite girl but we can do that in the bath too. Let me get behind you. Mmn. Don't move too much I'm already... fuck. Okay, okay, then uhm, can you make sit up a bit, I need to slide it in."

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beardedjoel · 8 months

Text

pretty little wife | morning glory

joel x f!reader one shot collection

part two of pretty little wife — can be read independently series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 summary: 4.3k words — saturday mornings in the miller household are for a few things only, and most of them include joel making his wife come as many times as he damn well pleases. | no apocalypse au, no use of y/n warnings: 18+ MDNI! pre-established relationship/dynamic, unprotected piv, rough sex, free use kink, sub/dom relationship, oral sex (f receiving), overstimulation, dirty talk, pet names for reader, cute husband joel, generally extremely submissive reader so if you're into that this is for you! a/n: i'm literally so blown away by the attention the first part of this got like WOW i'm so glad you all loved reading it as much as i did writing it! here's another snippet in their domestic bliss, and stay tuned for some ~interesting~ developments in the next part

i've decided to start a kofi in case anyone wants to consider a small donation to support my work! ♡

As much as you love Friday nights, the day Joel comes home pent up from a week of work and fucks it all out onto you, you love Saturday mornings even more.

Saturdays are for you Joel always says, and he starts this particular Saturday by waking you with kisses on the forehead and a fresh, steaming cup of coffee on your nightstand, one you can smell before you can even see it. He insists that after a long week of making meals, keeping the house spotless, your book club, nurturing your friendships, and keeping up with his insatiable need for you, you deserve one morning that’s completely for you, where Joel is happy to service you in multitudes.

You grumble and squeeze your eyes shut tighter as you feel his lips press onto your cheek again, and Joel laughs at your insolence.

“Know y’don’t like to sleep past eight, honey,” Joel comments as you continue to resist his attempts to wake you up.

“I knoooow,” you whine. “Mostly your fault I was up so late,” you add on, grumbling and recalling the way Joel had kept you up, insisting he keep filling you over and over. From the moment he got home until late in the night, somehow he’d managed to come three times, torturously edging you then making you come between them. Some days you truly wonder where the hell he gets the stamina from, how a man of his age can act like he’s twenty years old some nights. Anytime you ask, he just says that you make him absolutely fucking crazy, nothing more to it. It’s a miracle the two of you found each other, someone that can keep up with him just as well as he can with you.

“You’d like it better if I didn’t fuck you when I want then, hm? Get you all fucked out like last night?” he asks, his voice with a grating edge that’s between a threat and teasing. You make it a point to peek your eyes open at him finally, letting him see the fear in them at that prospect.

“N-no,” you shake your head wildly, eyes going wider as you fully wake up. “Of course not.”

“Thought so,” he says before leaning forward to kiss you, a sly smile dancing on his lips as you look over at him, perched on the bed next to you. He’s laying on his side, propped up on one elbow as he takes you in, his eyes full of mischief as they tend to be in the mornings.

“You know I have to give you a hard time when you act like you did last night,” you tell him, and Joel considers your words with a grin.

“I know ya do. Wasn’t too much last night, right?“ he asks. You always appreciate that Joel checks in like this, especially when he knows he’s gone further than the average day. And last night… he’d shown you just how long his week had felt, and how much he needed to make up for the lost time he’d had working late a few nights.

You shake your head sternly in reply. “Not at all,” you say sweetly, and Joel’s face relaxes before he leans in for another kiss that you gladly return.

“That’s my good girl. Your coffee’s over there,” he says, head gesturing towards the mug, despite every Saturday being the same with your coffee always on the nightstand when you wake up.

“Thank you, baby.” A flash of a grateful smile from you is all your husband needs, and you can see him melt a little bit at it.

You sit yourself up against the headboard, the sheet falling you reveal the top of your silky camisole trimmed in lace, a beautiful mauve color. Joel’s eyes catch on the skimpy fabric, one strap slipping down your shoulder, and he smiles, his eyes shading darker, watching as you reach for your coffee and start to sip on it. It’s perfect, a splash of your favorite creamer just to give it a little sweetness, and you send a grateful thought into the universe that Joel knows you so perfectly well.

“I see that look you’re giving me,” you say, giving him a close lipped smile over the top of your mug, eyes flashing at him with intrigue.

“How’s it different from any other Saturday? Y’know it’s all about you today,” he says matter-of-factly.

You chuckle and shake your head playfully. “Can’t a girl enjoy her coffee for a few minutes?” you tease him, and Joel makes a quiet, nearly growling sound in his throat before sitting up and moving to straddle your legs.

“Y’can certainly try, but you ain’t gonna be able to hang onto that mug for long, or do much of anything but come for me,” Joel says, and you find yourself losing your breath slightly at his words despite hearing much more filthy things coming from his mouth in the time you’ve been together.

“How many times this morning, then?” you ask tauntingly, taking another long sip from your mug before setting it back safely on the nightstand.

Joel’s eyebrows raise a bit before he slides himself further down on your legs, taking the sheet with him. You shiver a little at your skin being exposed to the air, the only thing covering you being your thin camisole and shorts set. Joel takes you in with hungry eyes, the way your body responds to being exposed with a smattering of goosebumps.

“As many times as I want, doll, y’know that,” he says. His fingers find their way to the silky hem of your shorts, passing the material through his fingers and inspecting it for a few seconds.

“Don’t know why y’even bothered to put this on after I was finished with you last night,” Joel muses, eyes traveling up the fabric until he reaches your chest, where your hardened nipples are starting to poke through the silk. “Just gonna take it right off this mornin’. Maybe rip it…” His head tilts cockily as his other hand slides up your smooth thigh slowly, tortuously. You arch your back slightly, lips parted with an oncoming whimper, showing him how much you want it.

“Am I not supposed to wear all the pretty things you buy me?” you retort back, low and still husky with sleep. “And rip this one? It’s my new favorite,” you say with a frown, trying to sound whiny and desperate enough to convince him to spare this pajama set.

Joel has quite an affinity for coming home with new lingerie and sexy sleepwear for you, strolling into the house after work with a boutique store bag, the contents inside shrouded with pretty paper. He’s given you countless slips, bras, thongs, garters, or any style of lingerie he finds that he wants to see you in. You tear them open with equal delight each time, something to replace the things that are ruined in one of Joel’s many other affinities - tearing your lingerie off of you. Whenever you gripe about it he promises to replace it with something even better. So far, he hasn’t failed, always spoiling you with something gorgeous each and every time.

Joel’s head leans forward, burying into your chest, settling between your breasts and inhaling deeply. “I know… you love this one…” he says, breath hot on the dip of skin between your tits, sending your already hardened nipples straining further through the fabric.

“Maybe I can get the same one, should still be for sale.” He begins kissing the soft skin there, goosebumps spreading across your body as his warm lips clash with the curve of your breast. You can feel his hands start to grip the bottom edge of the fabric, pulling it tight, desperate to rip it off of you.

“Better be. And a new set of panties to match it,” you bargain with him, and Joel glances up with a wide smirk, loving when you show him your more feisty side. His head dips back down, tongue finding your silken covered nipple and flicking it a few times before sucking it into his mouth. You arch into him, moans of his name spilling from your lips. He sucks until you can feel the surrounding fabric getting soaked, and you’re writhing wildly under his large frame, begging him.

“Please, baby… I need it,” you whine out, and Joel pulls his head off of your chest, a string of his saliva still connecting him to your shirt for a few moments. His eyes are lustful now, darkened a few shades by your body’s response to him.

“Need what, little doll?” he asks bitingly, almost condescendingly.

“Touch me, Joel.” Please, please, please. You beg in your head, nearly having to stop yourself from reaching between your legs and touching your clit yourself.

“Be a patient girl for me now,” he counters, and you feel your cunt clench around nothing at his commanding words, desperate for him to ravage you in any way he sees fit.

Joel places his hands on either side of your waist, his lips moving to start work on your other nipple, sucking and biting on it through the fabric. When both are thoroughly abused, swollen and aching from his mouth, you’re sure that you’ve soaked right through your panties to your shorts. You can feel your cunt pulsing, aching, the feeling spreading deep within you as you breathlessly pant, your hips twitching in desperation.

“Fine, fine,” Joel says, breathing out an amused laugh. “Let’s see what you’ve got on under here.”

His hands hook around your pajama shorts and yank them down, exposing the cotton thong you’d put on. Maybe Joel had been right, you should have just stayed naked last night - you’d likely be halfway to an orgasm by now if he hadn’t gotten distracted with all your clothing.

“Almost like you didn’t want me to make you come this morning, all this damn clothing in the way,” he tuts, snapping the waistband of your thong hard into your hip. You wince at the sensation but it only serves to make you even more wet for him.

“P-please -“ you beg, barely able to get any other word out but that same one over and over.

“Baby… jus’ fuckin’ soaked….” Joel muses with an amazed sound to his voice. “Even after last night, just a little suckin’ on your pretty tits get you like this? Fuckin’ drippin’ through your panties, little doll.”

You writhe as his fingers toy with your nipple while he talks, the other hand swiping across the front of your underwear to take in just how badly you’re wanting him.

“Yes - y-yes it does,” you answer dutifully, and Joel smiles ear to ear.

“Wet f’me all the time, ain’t you? Ready whenever I need this tight little pussy,” Joel grits out, giving your sopping cunt a swift slap and repositioning himself between your legs, letting his head dip down. You nod wildly in response, murmuring more begs of “please” as he nears torturously close to your warm heat.

“Need a taste of this, bet you’re so fuckin’ sweet right now,” Joel says, his mouth now inches from your cunt. You nearly cry at the anticipation, hips pushing towards him, your throbbing clit begging your body for any kind of relief.

Joel’s surprises you by dipping his mouth to you, but he licks a strip up the outside of your underwear, dulling the sensation for you. You still moan loudly, so desperate to feel any part of him touching you in between your legs. He continues to lick along the fabric, pushing his tongue down hard to reach your slit through your panties before he starts sucking on your clit.

“Wh- my underwear, Joel… please….” you moan out, mostly incoherent now, feeling a dull pleasure starting to build deep inside of you.

“And let all this go to waste?” Joel replies, sucking the fabric into his mouth just to taste what you’d already spilled out for him. “Don’t think so, darlin’.”

You flutter your eyes when his tongue pokes into your entrance, the fabric adding an extra layer of texture to all the sensations that’s driving you absolutely wild. It’s pulling you closer and closer to the precipice, to the edge where you now sit teetering as Joel’s tongue makes contact with your clit again, rubbing your panties against it as he flicks there.

He groans out loudly at the taste of you in his mouth, the way your panties keep getting more soaked between his own saliva and all the arousal you’re gathering there from the way his tongue is moving on you.

“I’m- oh, Joel, fuck, don’t stop,” you whine, hips starting to stutter into him. You arch your back slightly, chasing your high with just a few small jerks of your hip. “I’m so close…” you say breathlessly, frustration boiling in your blood that you’re not quite there yet. You start squirming needily and Joel moves quickly, throwing your legs over his shoulders and pushing back on your thighs so that your legs are pressed close to your body. You can feel even more how much you’re soaked, absolutely dripping as it slides down onto your ass, the sheets below you.

“Come for me, baby, y’can do it, so fuckin’ pretty and wet for me. Be my good little wife and come for me,” Joel praises quickly into your cunt before sucking hard, pulling your clit into his mouth and pressing a finger against your entrance, pushing your panties into it and pumping shallowly in and out a few times.

You snap at his praising words, desperate to do good for him, to follow anything he wants from you and you finally feel the tension in your belly coil so tightly that it breaks, sending you careening into your high.

“F-fuck, oh, Joel, baby,” you whine out with long, low moans, shaking as your body goes taut and vision goes white. You shudder and writhe into his mouth as he keeps a steady pressure on your clit and moves his fingers rapidly on your hole.

“Good girl, fuck, such a good girl, let’s do another,” Joel says as soon as he feels you coming down, and moves quickly, his tongue darting around the edge of your panties and sliding underneath, one finger pulling the fabric aside.

You nearly scream his name, the overstimulation coupled with his now direct contact with your most sensitive parts has you absolutely reeling. You pant heavily, trying to scoot your body away, but Joel’s hold on your legs is tight, his own tension starting to build underneath his sweatpants.

His tongue buries in you, lewdly lapping and slurping at every last drop of your come that he can as he groans in pure pleasure at the taste. He’s getting more aggressive, his need for you climbing as you rush towards another high.

“Fuck, gimme this tight little pussy,” Joel murmurs, his heaving breaths against your skin. He quickly starts to tear your panties, and through your haze you hear the ripping of fabric and seams, laying with your legs still pressed up against your body, held up for Joel to see between your legs clear as day. You feel like complete jelly, nothing reaching your mind but Joel Joel Joel and the pleasure he’s giving you.

He dives back in after you feel the torn panties laying open and limp against your thighs, his teeth nipping at your clit here and there, sending your hips twitching and little yelps flying out for your mouth.

“Need something’ in here, don’t you? Can feel you desperate, squeezin’, want my big fingers in there,” he says, more of a statement than a question, but you find yourself nodding dumbly, figuring that Joel seems to have known best up until this point, so no use in questioning it now.

He takes the liberty of pushing three fingers inside of you, giving you no chance to adjust, pumping them in and out a few times and then immediately hooking them to find the spongy part of your walls. Your breath catches, and you find it hard to get air into your lungs now between his mouth and fingers ruining you in tandem, making you fall to pieces.

You can’t speak, can’t think, can only chase what he’s giving you and let out pathetic moans and mewls and he fucks you with his fingers and presses on your g-spot. You feel tears brimming in your eyes, sliding down your cheeks but you don’t care, not when every bit of you is on fire in the best way, screaming out in pleasure.

“Hold your legs up f’me, need to fuck my fist to this, all these pretty little noises my wife makes,” Joel commands, and you do your best to keep your legs where he’s pushed them to, finding the muscles starting to tremble with the exertion and your quickly approaching climax.

“C’can’t hold on,” you whimper as you feel Joel shimmying on the bed to sit up and pull his cock out with one free hand, the other continuing to pump in and out of you. You peek down through half lidded eyes to see his cock, so hard and raging with need that it sends a pulse of desire straight through you to your aching hole. You need him inside of you, but most Saturday mornings he’s insistent on just eating you out like this until you’re a limp, sweating, crying mess, not wanting to detract from your pleasure by using your pussy for his own.

“Let go, baby, come again f’me,” Joel coos before his tongue circles your clit again and you melt into the pleasure, letting it wrack your body once again. You hear the slap of his flesh against his cock as he pumps it, fucking his fist earnestly as he hears your cries for him while you come around his fingers, squeezing him to keep pressing on the spot that’s absolutely devastating you.

“So fuckin’ addicted to this, gimme another, little doll, help me finish,” Joel says, sounding nearly manic as he pumps on his cock. “S-so good f’me, Christ,” he murmurs as he whimpers a little at the sight of you coming down from your climax and the feel of his own hand wrapped around his cock.

“Wanna feel you, wanna come on your cock, please… p-please…” you whine, completely dazed now.

“Y’know…” Joel struggles to get the words out, “It’s your turn, n-not about me,” he says with a grunt, tugging hard on his cock.

“It’ll make me come, I p-promise, just fill me up,” you tell him, holding your shaking, spent legs open wider, inviting him in. You writhe at the thought of Joel being inside of you, knowing your fully displayed cunt is fluttering and squeezing at nothing right now, and Joel can see every bit of it.

“Please…” you utter quietly, and that last insistence is what sets Joel over the edge. He’s on top of you in a second, wrists grabbed into his hands and pinned next to your head as he uses his body to keep your legs held up and steady before slamming into you. You yell out in complete bliss as he fills you to the hilt without stopping in one thrust, his cock stretching you mercilessly.

“That what you needed, pretty wife? This big cock inside ya? Get it every fuckin’ day, can’t get enough though, ain’t that right?” he says, unable to stop himself from immediately thrusting into you over and over, chasing after his orgasm. You’ve noticed that Joel can have incredible self control with most things until he’s buried balls deep in you, only then does it all go out the window. You love that power you hold over him, despite giving him every ounce of power to take it whenever he wants.

“Yes, yes, Joel, fuck me,” you cry, “harder.”

“Harder? Want me t’ruin this tight little pussy, it’s all mine, all mine,” he rambles on. “Fuck, c’mere and let me fuck you like I own it.”

He grunts as he pulls out of you with a wet pop, scrambling to flip you onto your belly and slamming back in as quickly as possible, cock hitting you so deep your eyes roll back as he presses your cervix.

You can only make wild, completely feral groaning sounds into the mattress as he fucks into you, devastating you as you see your vision spotting with white from the combination of pleasure and pain that he’s doling out. Your entire being feels supple right now, completely given over to Joel as he uses you to reach towards his own pleasure.

You whimper as your hips grind against the mattress, your sore and overstimulated clit getting even more friction than you can handle, and sure enough, you crash into another climax, your body shaking violently as Joel presses down on your back, fucking you even harder as you squeeze around his length and pull a rough, staggered grunt from him while he pumps one last time before spilling everything. Joel comes hard, pressing himself as flush as he can with your body, and you can hear his ragged breaths coming from behind you while he starts to come down.

You both stay exactly as you are, his half hard cock still twitching inside of your cum soaked cunt, both of you struggling to get a grip back on reality. You only now realize just how tear stained your face is, several stray tears still rolling down your cheek and onto the sheets below you.

Joel gingerly pulls out of you, but you stay prone, even as he crawls up next to you, just laying flat and letting his spill drip out of you, loving the feeling of being so used, so messy for him.

You flutter your eyes open to try to look at him, and you know it must be a sight to behold. Joel thumbs one of the tears on your cheek and then pinches it gently, rubbing his thumb along the soft skin there.

“So cockdrunk, look at ya,” he says with a disbelieving shake of his head.

“Mmmm,” you manage to get out, not even sure what you’d say if you could speak right now.

“I’m gonna run you a bath, pretty girl, then we’ll get you fed.” You can only nod in return, still trying to get yourself back to the present moment as you feel the bed move when Joel slips away. You doze as you hear the water running from the adjacent bathroom, and curl up slightly just before hearing Joel pad back into the room and gently shake your shoulder.

“Let’s go, gotta take care of yourself, doll,” he insists, and you mumble as you open your eyes and start to sit up. Joel peels your sticky, sweaty camisole off, tossing it on the bedroom floor and then leading you to the bathroom. The sight and smell in here is heavenly, and you wonder why you’d even thought about resisting getting out of bed for something this incredible. Fresh lavender scents the bath along with a clean, linen scent from the candle Joel lit on the bathroom counter. Inviting steam drifts off the top of the bath and you can hardly wait to dip your foot in and soak down into it.

“Thank you, baby,” you say sweetly, turning to Joel and tilting your head up to plant a kiss on Joel’s lips. He grasps at the back of your head, pulling your head in even closer for a few long, lingering kisses. He licks into your mouth and you moan quietly, your still freshly fucked cunt unsure if it should ask for more right now, or if it even can.

“You’d let me fuck y’again right here, wouldn’t ya? Cum runnin’ down your leg still and everything,” Joel asks you, and you nod bashfully, avoiding his eyeline, knowing it’s the embarrassing truth of just how desperate he makes you.

“Christ, how’d I get this lucky, huh?” Joel answers with a crooked smile. “Get in that bath, sweetheart, y’need to rest now.” He spins you towards the tub and gives you ass a light smack, urging you forward. You chuckle and decide not to resist, knowing he’s right - your body needs a break from the wonderful man that is your husband.

“Breakfast in thirty, mkay? I’ll make your favorite,” Joel tells you, a final kiss landing on your bare shoulder before you step over the rim of the tub and you turn to see him leave the room.

You hiss a little at the immediate heat of the water, but quickly find yourself sliding down into it, a relieved sigh escaping your lips as the lavender reaches your nose and you lose yourself into the bliss your husband set up for you so lovingly.

After soaking until you’re feeling refreshed and bordering on pruny, you step out and see the outfit Joel set out for you in the bedroom, indicating that he’d had a particular preference for what he wants to see you in today. You smile as you hold up a rather non classically sexy outfit compared to your closet full of lingerie and pretty dresses - one of Joel’s old t-shirts and tiny lounge shorts that barely cover your ass. You throw Joel’s choice and relish in the scent of him surrounding you through his clothing, hugging the fabric tightly to yourself. You bound down the stairs eagerly to the smell of breakfast cooking - chocolate chip pancakes by the smell of it - and think dreamily about what another perfect Saturday morning it had been in the Miller household.

joel taglist: @bbyanarchist

#it's official i'm absolutely losing it over husband joel here #fic: pretty little wife #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #x reader

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restlesswritingss · 2 months

Text

In which Astarion feels guilty

WARNINGS: Talk of PTSD from sexual assaults and domestic abuse for Tav and all the normal warnings that come from Astarion's backstory.

Astarion x reader

Astarion's plan was going perfect, you were falling head over heels for him at an unfounded rate. Your night together had been, well surprisingly wonderful. He had dissociated a little bit but hadn't completely hated it. You were a kind lover, you'd actually wanted to get him off and make him feel pleasured. It'd been oddly nice. He'd felt so guilty afterward. You had trusted him.

He knew only spots of your past but he knew there was some manipulative "lover" there that had made it hard for you to properly be intimate as well. It'd made his plan take a bit longer than he would have liked, and took more manipulation than he found himself feeling comfortable with. But, he played the part perfectly whilst trying to ignore a voice in the back of his brain pointing out he was just treating you like your last abuser. It must have been the tadpole. Sure, he was using you but it had to be done.

So here he lay on the soft forest floor with your head on his chest wide awake. You'd cried when he'd made you cum from his mouth and fingers. He'd comforted you and kissed the tears from your cheeks as you apologized over and over again.

"I've just never felt this safe during sex before," You'd managed weakly as you looked up at him.

That had cracked his façade. He'd never had someone be so open with him. They always just wanted his body and their own pleasure in the end. The fact that this was also the case for you shook him. He'd made you feel safe and he wanted to feel safe too.

That ridiculous thought was pushed aside and he'd continued on, but he was a bit more present after that. It'd felt good with you.

But he hadn't meant for it to. He didn't want more with you. The flush of your cheeks and dilation of your pupils always betrayed more than just lust when you looked at him and he'd used that to fasten the noose around your neck. You were none the wiser. He'd seen the suspicion in your eyes when you first allowed him to join your little party.

You were no fool but he'd managed to find any weak point he could. Your heart was a little too kind, as seen by your offering of blood to him. Astarion at first tried his typical rake ploy, offering only carnal pleasure with no strings attached but that wasn’t the bait that had lured you in.

He still seethed when he remembered your sneer at his overly sensuous flirtations. But then he'd turned on the boyish charm and that had at least made you blush. He'd been careful, calculated in his seduction but that still hadn't truly cracked the tough outer shell that kept everyone at a distance. What had worked was sincerity. It wasn't a tactic Astarion used often, but it had worked wonders with you. Learning of his tragic backstory had caused you to open up almost instantaneously. It was almost pathetic how eager you were to divulge your backstory.

Astarion was analyzing the first time you'd opened up to him as you snuggled deeper into his neck. Anything to ignore the way your warm breath on his neck made him shudder and his arm tighten around you.

You'd caught Astarion trying to check the scars on his back. It wasn't something he thought often about but this night the need to know what was viscously carved into his skin was overwhelming. Astarion was normally sharp and always heard people coming but you had a knack for sneaking up on him.

Worry warped your voice as you asked, "Did something happen to your back? Do you need Shadowheart?"

Astarion had panicked and bared his teeth to you. His back was thankfully facing away from you but you'd seen him desperately clawing at it.

The panic in your face made him retreat further. There was genuine caring in your eyes and his whole body rejected the idea of you caring for him. Caring meant pity.

You held up your hands as if he was a cornered stray. It made him actually hiss at you.

"Are you ok?" You asked more assertively, holding his gaze.

That made him falter. You did not fear him and you were not going to let this go.

His shoulders slumped and his head fell as mumbled, "Something did happen to my back but nothing Shadowheart could heal. It was done many years ago by my master."

You lowered your hands and tilted your head in curiosity, "Does it still cause you pain? I could try to find something to soothe or dull it if you'll let me."

Your asking of his consent to help him was the final nail in his coffin. He felt bile rise in his throat as his body succumed to your caring before his mind could stop it.

He simply shook his head as he turned to allow you to see one of his greatest shames. This wasn't apart of his plan to seduce you and he needed to regain the upper hand.

"Why did he carve infernal into your back?"

Astarion's shoulders tensed at your words.

"Infernal? The bastard said it was a poem!"

Now you took in a sharp breath, "Sorry I forgot you'd probably never seen it."

"Another way I can never be free of him, an infernal poem carved into my back to serve as a constant reminder of my master," Astarion scoffed. The words were bitter in his mouth.

It was then, after hearing his vulnerability that you felt inclined to divulge some of your own. You knew Astarion would feel as if you had power over him with this information, and you wanted to make things more equal between the two of you.

Astarion was astonished that you were such an idiot. He hadn't even had to plan to get you to open up to him and divulge information he was surely going to use against you. He no longer felt vulnerable at all. You were too much a fool to even think to use his past against him. The knowledge of your past with a truly awful lover was another tool in his arsenal to get into your bed and good graces.

Astarion wasn't new to feeling immense guilt for tricking his exploits, but before he had been able to comfort himself that it was Cazador not him. But his manipulation of you was all him. Cazador no longer controlled him while the tadpole was in his head. Astarion was manipulating you completely out of his own volition. And to his surprise, it felt utterly awful.

Another dagger to his conscience came in you nuzzling your face into his neck in your sleep. Your soft breath on his neck felt oddly nice. He wasn't used to cuddling after his exploits. That's not to say he was a stranger to any sort of romance involved in sexual exploits, he was an expert in literally romancing the pants off of people. But this, this was new in how it made him feel.

He normally wanted to crawl out of his skin and couldn't get out of his lover's bed fast enough. But here he was on a dirty floor in the middle of the godsdamned forest actually enjoying the feeling of your body pressed to his. This was not a part of his plan.

* * *

The first rays of sun awoke Astarion, the old panic that it would burn his skin still overtaking his body. But now it was overridden by a desire to bask in the sun's rays while he could. The only thing making him hesitate was your limbs completely entangled him. He sighed, half-heartedly exasperated. Even with his extensive skills, there was no way of disentangling himself without waking you up. Astarion found himself hesitating not because he didn't want to speak with you more, as was normally his reasoning behind being quiet as possible with previous marks, but more so because he enjoyed watching you sleep.

A very creepy and unwelcomed thought. But, a thought and feeling he couldn't help as you drooled on his chest and snored into his ear in a way he found endearing. A worrying development.

But Astarion couldn't let his precious time in the sun go to waste. As soon as he tried to move your arm, you stirred and blinked up at him with sweet yet bleary eyes. The unfiltered softness and adoration in your gaze made what was left of your blood in his system rush to the tips of his ears.

"Good morning handsome," you drawled, smiling up at him before turning away from him to stretch all your limbs.

Astarion frowned at the loss of your warmth. His arms moved of their own volition to snake around your middle to pull you back flush against him. The flitty laugh you let out as you melted back into his embrace made his mind go blank. The comfort and sweetness in this simple embrace warmed him more than the sun ever could.

Spooning was a common request amongst his previous partners, but this, this felt natural and intimate.

"How are you feeling?" You asked, your hand moving to cover his that was placed on your stomach.

"Me? Wonderful darling, better than ever. I ought to be the one asking you that question," His voice lost it's humor and went far too soft at the end. Worry seeped in, worry that you would regret this exploit or that he had hurt you in some way.

Your other hand reached behind to stroke his hair lightly. Astarion resisted the urge to moan at how good your nails felt on his scalp.

"I feel better than I have in a long time, I just hope I made you feel as good as you made me feel," the insecurity crept into your voice.

Astarion tightened his grip on you, wanting to keep away the dark thoughts he knew were creeping in. He didn't want you to think of past abuse or mistreatment. You didn't need to worry about his pleasure, or fear that he would be angry with you for not focusing on him at all times.

"As I said before, last night was positively divine," Astarion stopped himself before continuing.

His instinct was to put the mask back on and make a suggestion to continue the fun in the morning light. But he didn't really want a part two in this moment. He was enjoying this tender embrace.

You sighed contently, sinking further into his arms. As you began to drift back into sleep, Astarion looked up towards the rising sun. The divinity of basking in the warm sun rays was tainted slightly. There was a nagging in the back of his skull that wasn't the worm in his head.

It was guilt. Guilt for manipulating you. He didn't truly return the romantic feelings he was fostering in you with his honeyed words and longing gazes. He was using you for protection. He tried to remind himself that it was necessary for his survival. But the level of his manipulation was a bit much, even for him. And this cuddling in the morning was not necessary for his survival. He was just enjoying it.

This was going to blow up in his face. He really should work on his planning skills.

Author's Note: IDK what the fuck this is but I just needed to get something written. Let me know what you think even if you hate it I appreciate any feedback!

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav

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taegularities · 4 months

Text

colour me in: blooming | jjk (m)

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

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

SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs

”Are you happy?”

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

“Do you want to come over sometime?”

You don’t know.

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

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

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

“…Thank you.”

THE SUNDAY AFTER THE PRESS CONFERENCE

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

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

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

You’re sound asleep.

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

What if he never moved? If he kept staring?

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

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

Just, never as much as today.

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

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

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

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

He chuckled.

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

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

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

Not that it makes any difference.

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

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

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

God. You tilt his world off its axis.

“Baby,” he whispers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No. I feel great.”

“Just. Be nice to yourself, munchkin.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s triggered by even the smallest things.

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

Trust in me when I say…

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

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

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

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

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

“Ohh, so we’re both beautiful.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm?”

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

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

Ah. Odd.

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

But.

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

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

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

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

“Oh…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God…

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

Shit, how it angers Jungkook.

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, sweetheart… Ah, come here—”

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

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

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

“…You think?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fix it?”

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

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

Enough with the papers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And sighs in contentment.

A WEEK LATER

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not everything. Gotta go grocery shopping later.”

“Ohhh…”

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

Calm, but thinking.

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

“Uhh. Do you need help?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey— ouch?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look! This is you.”

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

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

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

“Romance tends to make people speechless, darling.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You just don’t trust me with th—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And maybe even that was too early.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck, not when he’s kissing it off…

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

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

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

“Or…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod.

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

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

“Of course.”

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

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

“…Do you like it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Laugh?”

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

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

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

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

“Ah… Were you a Naruto fan?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah. Oh?”

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

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

“I do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“…Good. Me too.”

And that’s all.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No wonder you hold your friends in such high regard.

“Yeah! Of course. Thank you, Jimin.”

“It’s a pretty place, by the way.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So in love with the shower.

It’s almost a bit tragic.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe he should look for a rainbow somewhere.

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ahh… babe.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

An hour later, the apartment is empty.

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

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

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

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

“To me listening to you more?”

“Yes. But no. To you being here.”

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

“Oh, I believe you.”

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

“Hm? When?”

“Before dinner. It looked serious.”

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

Huh. Doesn’t seem to quite cut it.

“Mmmh. Anything else?”

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

“…You said the last bit, too?”

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

Oh, all too well…

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

“…How?”

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

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

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

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

“Hang in there.”

“Alright. You’re lucky I trust you.”

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

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

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

“And I want you so bad.”

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

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

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

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

“Bedroom. Right now.”

THE MORNING OF THE CONFESSION

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’ll sacrifice a slumber for this. Voluntarily.

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

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

Like today.

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

“It’s okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhh?”

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

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

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

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

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

“…How so?”

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

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

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

“You always sound so hopelessly…”

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

Or doesn’t want to admit them yet.

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

Better not find out yet.

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

How fitting.

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

“Like what?”

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

“Hey! That makes me nervous.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“…I— What do you mean?”

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

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

Curses its limitations.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The blueprint. And an everlasting memory.

Does it make sense? He doesn’t know.

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

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

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

“Yeah? Tell me about it.”

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

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

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

Hmm…

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

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

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

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

“Yeah! I’m hopeful.”

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

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

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

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

Reflexively, you look up.

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

“Hell yes,” Jungkook confirms.

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

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

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

Because…

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

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

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

“…Too obvious?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

“I… I would. I’ll paint you any day.”

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

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

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

Must be a good day approaching.

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

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

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

A COUPLE DAYS LATER

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But…

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

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

And you…

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

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

Ugh.

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

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

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

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

Oh…

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

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

“No,” he responds, “no. We will go.”

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

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

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

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

“I am. We’ll go, baby, okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And… what if it does work?”

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

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

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

“Ah… ah, really…”

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

“And me too,” Namjoon raises a hand.

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

He…

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

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

Because…

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

When had his senses last heightened this much?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

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

“What then?”

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

“A little.”

“Uhm…”

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

So maybe, it means nothing after all.

Then again. It must be something.

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

Oh…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And those tangled thoughts say—

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

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

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

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

Lock.

A picture of a lock. And of its key.

The first thing to flash into his mind.

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

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

You do make the ordinary extraordinary.

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

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

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

Just you.

You, you, you.

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

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He loves you. He loves you.

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

”Oh.”

“…Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’d think we’d learn.”

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

“Ah, just.”

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

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

“Why’s that?”

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

Even before you did?

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

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

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

Oh…

Shit, man.

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

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

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

“It’s okay.”

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

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

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

“Mountains and beach, you say.”

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

Shit.

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

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

Just days ago.

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

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

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

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

And… how his chest constricted at everything that followed after that. Don’t you remember?

In spite of every indication he threw your way — you still worry so much.

Funny you’d be so nervous around someone who wants to see the entire world with your hand in his.

What did you call it again? Wanting to be brave.

So fucking easy with you.

“How about…” he begins, staring into anticipating eyes, hearing a storm of cheers rumble, “going shopping before we leave?”

Your demeanour changes momentarily. The unsure girl, afraid to hurt him, soon finds her way back to her foundation. You light up, a hand over your mouth; your cheeks must be hurting.

You deliver one, short jump and then pull him back in, kissing his lips once before scattering a couple more pecks next to them. He soon finds himself pushing you towards your car, forcing you back to work, but you have a thousand things to babble about.

He’s adoring all the bright stars in your eyes — now he understands how you feel when you see the same universe in his.

It’s crazy. How effort is never required from your side for him to feel that way. How you only need to breathe and talk and smile and stay.

Stay stay stay.

The word sails and wafts through his dazy thoughts like a silent prayer. Begging and begging; pleading to allow him to pour all his love on you, although he doesn’t need to ask. You always let him anyway.

And he guesses he’s using that permission thoroughly. Maybe that’s why keeps craving and burning for more; why he’s been holding you tighter these nights.

His tiger lily pressed against your heart.

*head in hands* they are so crazy for each other, pls 😭 warmth and reassurances and support and bickering literally build the foundation of their relationship and i love them sm :') for some reason the editing process knocked me out, but i still adore this one so so much, and i hope you guys did, too!! 🥺

feedback is always so so appreciated!! you guys are literally such a freaking supportive bunch and have kept this series alive for so long and i love you to death :( here's to the first one this year!! as always, please consider leaving a like, reblog (with or without feedback!), comments and spammm my inbox with everything that's on your mind hehe <3 any kind of msg makes my day!

and nowww!!!!! moving on to cmi: palette and VACAYYYY!!! mwah mwah 🤍

#jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts smut #bts fluff #jeongguk smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts x you #bts imagines #jungkook fic #bts angst #jungkook angst #jungkook

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sl-ut · 1 month

Text

more streamer!ellie hcs

been wanting to make another one of these for a while now so here we goooooo

part one

ellie loves having her gf on stream as often as she can

they always let chat vote for who gets to choose the game that they play, but y/n wins probably 90% of the time

ellie pretends to be annoyed when she picks the sims or minecraft

but in reality she really likes sitting together and making each other and building their dream life

she made her simself have huge muscles, was mad when her girl just laughed and made them more realistic

when she won, she liked to pick horror and rpg games

she loves trying to act all big and bad and "protecting her girl"

meanwhile she's holding onto her for dear life and screaming at the top of her lungs

when she's on her own, she likes playing any type of game with voicechat

she always ends up fighting with and cussing at some random kids across the country

she gets so wild whenever one of them calls her a virgin

always freaks out at them before beginning to brag all about her super hot gf that they couldn't even dream of having and they wouldn't even know what to do with that

she gets a "???" text from her girl a few seconds later

she takes little gf breaks during the stream, where she literally sprints out of the room, kisses her, and rushed back

her insta is so dumbbbb

like its literally a compilation of stupid memes, random photo dumps, brand deals, and the most well edited and gorgeous photos of her girlfriend

her tiktok really took off after they started dating too

she makes thirst traps and also the most wholesome lovely dovey vids about her relationship

she loves reposting fan edits of them

as mentioned in the first one, ellie's gf is also in the public eye

i think i've decided that she's an up and coming singer/actress

ellie loves going to major events with her

she always looks like a wet dream like

she likes to wear suits of some kind where the top is partially unbuttoned and her hair is slicked back and ughhhh

don't get me wrong, she looks so good and fierce in her solo pics

but anytime you're anywheres near her that night, she's got the most obvious heart eyes anyone has ever seen

whenever ellie goes with her for press events y/n's manager immediately know its gonna be a gold mine

theres always some kind of promo that's literally just the two of them cuddling

once y/n gets her big break they 1000% get offered a ck campaign

the whole thing is them doing domestic stuff together and being all cute and sexy and ellie looks so DAMN GOOD in her boxers and bralette

she literally spends the whole day leading up to her stream with her gf bc she's "gonna miss her" during the 3-4 hours that they're apart (even tho she's calling her in every 30 minutes just to say hi anyways)

wears stupid shirts on stream that she custom orders

they all say stupid loser gf shit or just have a picture of your face on it

#reader insert #x reader #imagines #lesbian #ellie williams x reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie smut

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abbysdruidess · 10 months

Note

you ever see those tiktoks of ppl making to-go meals for their wives working at hospitals? i wanna do that for abby so badly 🥺 (i've seen some hcs of her being an orthopaedic surgeon and I think thats real af)

thank you for this anon<3 I was kind of in a writers block so this helped s a lot-send me more asks about my babygirl, my delightful wife.

l̳u̳n̳c̳h̳ ̳o̳f̳ ̳c̳h̳a̳m̳p̳i̳o̳n̳s̳ | modern au smut

wc: 1.3k (my longest!!)

tags: fluff, smut, domesticity, reader gets head for cooking for her wife(not that she wasn't getting it anyway), Abby eats it the whole damn thing on the kitchen counter

a/n: this is in the form of headcanons with a smut drabble in the end-lmk what you guys think<33

❦ I feel like in a modern au Abs would definitely choose a field that requires a lot of hard work(cause in the game also she overworked herself), so she's either a doctor or a construction worker(;)). I feel like she wouldn't want to choose to be a neurosurgeon like her father, bc as much as she admires his work, she doesn't want to be compared to him and she grew up with it, she wants something different. So her going into orthopaedics seems pretty reasonable.

❦ As for the lunch thing, I could totally see you making her lil lunches<3 She is careful about what she eats cause she wants maintain her muscled appearance, so she doesn't really go for the cafeteria food. Therefore, you make a habit of cooking food for the wife™️ every day. I imagine you getting one of these cute bento boxes and cook her some chicken, rice and salad the night before and set it up all cute<3

❦She'd always love it when you cook her food from your culture/country of origin also🥺because baby loved everything about you and wants to feel closer to you any chance she gets. In my country there's a lot of emphasis on fresh, unprocessed food so I imagine you growing a little garden outside your kitchen with fruits and vegetables, the works.

❦ Don't forget about dessert also-cooking a big tray of something like brownies or a batch of cookies on Sunday nights and put in on her lunch box with a note that goes like "finish your vegetables before you devour dessert!" or "eat lunch first, dear<3" . Bonus points if you kiss the note and get lipstick all over it.

❦ Maybe a coworker of hers notices one day(probably Manny cause he's the only one able to confront her about it) and goes up to her with a shit eating grin while she's eating it like "Damn doc, maybe that wife of yours can cook me up a lunch or too like yours sometime. She forgot to draw a heart on your brownies though." And normally if it was someone else she'd be pretty pissed off, because HOW DARE THEY mock the lunch her amazing, breathtaking wife worked so hard to make. But it's Manny so she knows he's just fucking around. SO Abby's like "Oh shut up Manny. You're just wish you had a girl who wants to make you lunch every day."

❦And truthfully she's extremely grateful for it, it's one of those things that reminds her why she married you, you care for her so much and cooking for her shows you look after her in one of the most vital, intimate ways possible. In the end of the week, once she comes home from work and sees you cleaning dishes in the sink, she walks up to you, leaving her little lunch box on the counter and wraps her big, beefy arms around you, while she whispers in your ear.

"I didn't thank you for lunch this week. I loved the cookies a lot.", and you can feel her breath slightly tickling your ear, the pads of her fingers toying with the hem of your shirt.

"It's alright Abs, I like making you food. You need to stay fit, big girl.", you respond, while you turn around and run your hands down her biceps.

"Hmm, thank you so much for caring about my health babe, or maybe you just like that your wife is packing such heavy guns under her shirt, huh?" she teases. You can't deny though, you love her figure. You can feel her hands on your hips as she tenderly lifts you on the counter, and you sigh happily.

"Yes Abby" you roll your eyes. "I'm soo thankful I have such a strong wife. It is quite beneficial at times.". Your hands ride up her shirt, cupping her firm, silken breasts. She exhales all wobbly, you know how sensitive her breasts are. But you know your little game won't last long.

She doesn't respond, just leans her face into yours so your noses bump and smiles. She quickly makes light work of your shirt, tossing it on the floor and goes for the button in your jeans next, as you help her by raising your hips off the counter. In one flawless motion, she has removed both your jeans and underwear, tossing them off with your shirt. Once the bare skin of your ass makes contact with the marble of the counter you shiver, and Abby brings her girthy palms to rest under your buttocks, warming up the skin there and slightly groping it.

"Lemme thank you for lunch. You are always so good to me. My pretty, little wife". She raises one of her hands and gently runs her pointer finger where your folds part, making you gasp. Your hands reach to her behind and cup her firm ass. "Alright." you whisper into her ear, as your eyes roll in the back of your head.

She then kisses a line from your jaw to your belly button, leaving sloppy, open mouth kisses where the drool from her mouth remains visible on your skin. You could only wish it would imprint on it, immortalising Abby's passionate mouth loving on your body. You shudder as you feel her delicately kissing your pussy, rubbing her tongue on your feminine lips as if she was making out with them. Her tongue teases the sensitive flesh, as the nerves in the most sensitive part of your body are abused by this wonderful, wonderful woman. You let out small, staccato moans, and your hands reach the flesh of your breasts, cupping them and toying with them deliciously. Abby continues the barrage on your cunt, licking up your clit as the room is filled with the sloppy sounds of sopping flesh.

You sit there, helpless but to take it, as you feel the coil inside you tightening up from the lovely tongue of your wife. You suddenly feels as though a band has snapped, and you are overcome with heavenly, internal bliss as your orgasm washes over you like a wave. Abby guides you through it, leaving soft kissing on your cunt and whispering "That's it baby, come like a good girl". Once it stops, you can feel her rising up to kiss you, her tongue rubbing yours in small circles as she lets you taste your salty tang.

"Mmm" you let out a soft giggle. "I'm so grateful I have such a caring attentive wife.", and she makes you gasp as she her fingers come up to your sensitive folds, dipping her hands into your hole and spreading your juices all over your inner thighs. You let out soft moans at the overstimulation but allow her to continue the assault on your cunt nonetheless, as she thumbs you clit gently, watching it twitch in between your legs.

"Damn right you are, baby. Wanna take this to the bedroom?" She leans into you and leaves a kiss on your ear lobe. "I'm not through with you yet." you don't reply just yet, because you know she still wants to have a go at you, and she will no matter what. You grumble a small yes at her as she picks you up bridal style and moves you to the bedroom, kicking your discarded clothes out of her way.

What could she say? Abby lives to please you, and you live to please her. And both of you are thankful for having each other to help whenever, whether that is with lunch and everything the other person needs.

whoaah, who wrote that🤔anyways, lmk what you guys think of it and ofc send me more asks abt Abby<33

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x you #abby the last of us #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby tlou #abby anderson smut #abby anderson fluff #abby x reader #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson headcanons

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