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kindahoping4forever · 2 years

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There's Just No Getting Through Without You // Ashton Irwin

There's not much excuse explanation for this one tbh - I saw the crochet hat/beard/tank selfie and not only did I (obviously) lose it but this entire narrative inexplicably spun itself in my mind and I wrote a good chunk of this fic in one sitting (secretly because I was actually supposed to be finishing up the edits on the collab series Cass and I were about to be posting 😌🤫). More than ever, thanks to @cal-puddies for indulging my breakdown. 💙

Warnings: Boyfriend on tour!Ash. Slight angst (no conflict, just emo feels) that is happily resolved. Backstage comfort sex including female receiving oral and unprotected sex in an established relationship. It's a soft one, friends.

Word Count: 5050

Masterlist // Ko-Fi linked above

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

Ashton grumbles to himself as he flops down onto the dressing room couch. He loves being on tour - traveling the world, meeting people and playing music are some of his greatest passions and greatest pleasures - but days like today still have the ability to make part of him wish he had taken on a simpler vocation.

He’s not sure what city they’re currently in but he is sure he never wants to visit again because the experience has been such a nightmare. The band stayed at a hotel in the last city because the ride to the next one was only supposed to take a few hours. It was a literal rude awakening when their tour manager banged on each of their doors at 4am to announce there were new road closures on the route and everyone now had one hour to load onto the bus before they had to leave to make up the time.

Unfortunately, leaving early made little difference as the detours impacted traffic throughout the city, meaning they were still late to the radio station they were stopping by to promote the gig, which meant they were also late to the venue, one of Ashton’s least favorite things to be. They would’ve been late to soundcheck as well but fortunately? Unfortunately? Perspective is relative at this point but the fact of the matter is they are currently unable to soundcheck because now inclement weather is of concern at this outdoor venue and the promoters are asking for the show to be pushed back at least an hour, maybe two, in hopes that the worst of it passes. It’s not like it matters, anyways - the trucks with their equipment got caught in traffic as well and the crew just began unloading.

Topping the list of Ash’s complaints, the worst part of his day, hands down, was saying goodbye to you. You’d spent the past week and a half on the road with him and he knew you’d be leaving this morning but that didn’t make it any easier. Not to mention that because of the change in schedule, he’d had to leave you much earlier than originally planned. He expected to have one last breakfast with you, maybe a shower, some sort of properly improper goodbye. Not you, bleary-eyed and disoriented, having to run around the hotel room to help him find his phone charger before he left you with a rushed kiss at the door while Calum texted empty threats about the bus departing without him.

He hopes you’re having a good day, that you aren’t too nervous on your flight. He knows you hate it and he hopes he’s made it clear how much he appreciates you enduring to come see him, that he’s proud of you for overcoming that anxiety. His fingers twitch, instinctively wanting to send a quick text to tell you all that but he stops himself, lacing his fingers together across his chest to keep from reaching for the phone. He knows if he messages you, you’ll keep talking to each other until he gets called to stage and he wants you to rest, focus on staying calm while you’re in the air. He hopes you were able to get back to sleep after he left this morning. He hopes you’re napping now. Actually, that wouldn’t be a bad idea for himself either.

He makes himself more comfortable, shrugging off the button down shirt he had over his tank, adjusting the pillow behind him, kicking off his shoes. He checks the volume on his phone - when the show was delayed, everyone else went to the hotel while he opted to stay at the venue, partly out of obligation and partly because he just wanted to be alone - and finally, he tugs his hat down over his eyes and takes a deep, cleansing breath. He’s usually not one for using sleep to escape, he believes in facing the present head on, living viscerally and in the moment. He tells himself he’s going to sleep for practical reasons, that it’s already been a long day and he needs to recharge for the show. But if he’s honest, he’s taking a nap because he knows you’ll be waiting for him in his dreams. Having you with him always makes things better and even if it’s just for a little while, he’ll take that in any form he can get it right now.

***

The backstage corridor echoes with the sound of your long, tired exhale. You’re exhausted, you’re frustrated but at least you’re here. The tour manager said Ash was resting in the back dressing room, the one with the extra trunks of clothes, the ice bath, the catch all for the auxiliary supplies the band doesn’t want crowding their main space. You held back a wince when you heard he was back there, you know that means he’s having a bad day and doesn’t want to be bothered.

You take another deep breath as you make your way down to the opposite end of the hall. You’d run into Luke when you stopped by the hotel just now and he gave a brief summary of the shitshow they’d been through since you parted ways earlier that morning. You hope Ash is okay, that he’s being kind to himself. Nothing that happened today was his fault but you know him well enough to know that isn’t enough to keep himself out of the line of fire when he’s ruminating on the day’s events. And you know he’s ruminating.

So many things have gone wrong today, you half expect the dressing room to be locked when you reach it but the handle on the door easily jiggles when you try it. You knock quietly and after a few beats of silence, you give another series of taps as you crack the door open to take a peek. You’re instantly met with the sound of snoring and you feel both endearment and relief at the discovery. At least he’s resting, at least if he’s asleep then he’s not stressed.

Trying to minimize your chance of disturbing him, you slip your shoes off and leave your backpack by the door. You tiptoe into the room slowly, walking around to the front of the couch, and stop dead in your tracks as your boyfriend comes into view. You never knew people actually swooned in real life but you feel yourself go weak in the knees when you see him lying on his side, bare feet tucked together in between the seat cushion and the back of the couch, bulky arms hugged tightly around himself, making his large frame look downright small.

His bright orange crochet hat peeks out from where his face is buried in the back of the couch. serving as a makeshift eye mask, its floppy bill stretched down to obscure half his face; you smile at the memory of him immediately spotting it in the pile of fan gifts from the previous show, how he excitedly pulled it on while he read the note from its creator and followed them on Twitter. Surely the scenario you’re currently observing was not its intended use but kudos to him for being innovative.

You’ve done your best not to wake him thus far but the urge to curl up with him is too strong to ignore and you ease yourself onto the couch behind him. You tuck one arm under your head and drape the other gently across his chest, flattening yourself against his back. Lying with him is an instant comfort - breathing in his scent, feeling the warmth of his body, the chemical satisfaction of your skin on his, even if it’s just what your tank tops will allow.

You indulge one more impulse and press a kiss to his bare shoulder, making sure your lips hit a particular pair of freckles. You feel him begin to stir and you freeze but your caution quickly turns to heartache when he breathes out a soft sigh that resembles your name, as if feeling your affection wasn’t unexpected, despite your departure. You watch the surprise set in when he instinctively grabs your hand resting on his chest and his head cocks to the side, as he realizes where he fell asleep and that he should be alone.

“...Baby?” Ashton whispers curiously, lifting his hat and peering over his shoulder to find your patient expression. His eyes widen at the discovery and he turns onto his other side to face you, still holding your hand. “Baby, why… wha… How are you real?”

You chuckle softly, squeezing his fingers. “They started delaying flights because of the weather and I was quick enough to hop on one here before the storm came this way. Figured if I was gonna be stuck somewhere, I’d rather have it be with you.”

A variety of emotions cross his face and he ultimately lands on concern. “Aww, sweetheart, I’m sorry… are you going to be OK with work and everything?”

“I’ve been texting my boss but like… it’s weather, there’s not anything that can be done, you know?” You rub his arm, wanting to curb any misplaced guilt he might have brewing.

“Yeah…” He trails off, going quiet for a minute before touching your face, looking like he needed additional confirmation you’re really in front of him. “Well, I’m sorry your plans got ruined but I’m very grateful you’re here.”

He leans in, placing possibly the softest kiss you’ve ever felt on your lips. “Me too, babe.” You say quietly, lifting his hat off so you can brush his hair back. “I dropped my stuff off at the hotel and Luke told me a little bit about how the day’s been. Sounded frustrating, I’m sorry.”

“Ugggghhhhhh,” he grumbles, running his hands over his face. “Baby, you can’t even imagine…”

Ash launches into the unabridged version of his tale of woe, complete with impressions of various management, event hosts and band members. You giggle, ooh and aww at all the appropriate intervals and you can tell that sharing his experience with you is giving him the catharsis he needed. By story’s end, he’s moved onto his back and pulled you onto his chest. One hand strokes gently through your hair, the other rests on your hip, undemanding but keeping you close. His voice, tired but warm, has gotten noticeably quieter since he took you into his arms and as you lay with him, you can feel his body relaxing against yours, the stress of the day fading as he melts into you.

The more relaxed he is, the less he has to rant about and soon, the quiet whir of the air conditioner is the only noise that fills the room. You run your fingers up and down the long chain from his pendant necklace, appreciating that the rise and fall of his chest seems to be getting deeper, that he’s continuing to calm down.

He kisses your forehead, smiling against it as he murmurs, “When you got here, I was dreaming about you.”

“Oh?” You prop yourself up to look at him, smiling sweetly.

“Yeah… we were in bed --”

Your smile turns to a smirk and you raise your eyebrows suggestively.

“No, not like that… well… I don’t know, maybe,” he giggles, pinching your ass. “Nothing was really happening, we were just touching and talking like this.”

“But in bed?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Naked?”

“There were sheets but my brain is pretty fond of you naked so my guess would be yes.”

You snuggle in tighter to him, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. “Sounds like a nice dream.”

Ashton cradles your jaw, thumb stroking affectionately over your cheek. “I hated that I had to leave without saying goodbye this morning,” he admits.

“Well… you did say the word goodbye to me,” you point out with a grin, trying to lighten his mood.

He smirks and continues your implication. “Yeah, but my mouth usually puts in a little more work than that, doesn’t it?”

You giggle wickedly as he slides his hands in your back pockets to push you up his body and into a playful kiss. You scratch your nails along his beard, longing to hear the noise he always makes when you do; he delivers, deepening the kiss as he groans, one of his hands moving from your pocket to slip up the back of your shirt. His fingertips are still raw and cracked from drumming the night before but it’s Ash so you love it and you shiver at the rough designs they trace on your skin.

His bottom lip between your teeth, you pull away and coyly ask, “How would you have wanted the morning to go if we’d had more time?”

He matches your teasing tone, answering, “Oh, I had lots of ideas.”

You peck along his jaw and when you reach his ear, you whisper, “Gimme your Top 3 then.”

“Hmm… definitely would’ve slept in. Then maybe a nice stroll to that cafe we found across from the hotel? Pancakes and coffee.”

“Mmm, that sounds lovely,” you coo, nipping at his ear, tugging gently on the gold hoop he wears, earning a murmur of acknowledgement. “Number one?”

“Oh, my number one choice definitely would’ve been spending as much time as I could with my face buried between your legs.”

The casual way he delivered that statement is as surprising as it is hot and he lets out a low chuckle at the way your breath catches. Desire obvious in your voice, you egg him on with a simple, “Oh?”

Ash shrugs, trying to feign nonchalance but unable to keep a self-satisfied grin from spreading across his face. “At least long enough for you to feel the scratch of my beard on your thighs all the way home.” He brings you into a heated kiss and you moan, feeling his tongue dance with yours and imagining it moving like that on your pussy. “Long enough to taste you on my beard for the rest of the day.”

“Jesus, Ash,” you groan, pressing your hips against his. He parts your legs with one of his, providing just enough pressure to get you whining into his mouth as you make out. He kisses you slowly but with purpose, his hands and lips focused on all the ways he knows make you feel most loved and wanted by him. By the time his hands have moved down to grip your ass, slowly rocking you on his thigh, you feel irredeemably needy for him.

“So happy you’re here, love,” he murmurs against your lips. “So glad I get some more time with you… appreciating you… loving on you.” He punctuates each of these declarations with a kiss and a soft squeeze of your hips, pressing you onto his leg.

“Nowhere else I’d rather be, babe,” you say honestly, breathlessly, rolling your hips, openly looking for friction now.

His lips curl into a mischievous smile. “There’s someplace I’d rather you be though,” he responds, bringing a hand up to stroke his beard. “Climb up here. Let me drown in you, baby.”

It’s not the filthiest thing he’s ever said to you but the sincerity in his eyes makes his request unbearably hot, you can tell he’s craving your taste in this moment. You get up off the couch, whimpering at how instantly chilly you feel without his body heat against you, and hastily kick off your pants and underwear. You climb back up, sitting on his chest, waiting for him to be ready.

He settles back against the pillow, running his hands over your now bare thighs before narrowing his eyes in thought. “How would you feel about losing this?” He asks, tugging at your oversized tour tee. Your hands reach for the hem while your eyes momentarily flit in the direction of the door, unsure if you locked it. He notices your hesitance and reassures you, “There’s no one here, baby, and anyone who is knows to leave me be.”

Your desire to feel him on you outweighs any concerns you have and you peel your top off, tossing your bra aside as well. Your decision is immediately rewarded with Ashton’s warm touch tracing up your sides before landing on your breasts, his large hands kneading them appreciatively. “Was mainly concerned for your sake,” you tease, placing your hands over his and squeezing. “Getting girls naked backstage? Thought you were all grown out of that phase by now.”

He giggles at your jab, tweaking your nipples in retaliation. “Appreciate you lookin’ out for me, love,” he jokes. “That mean you’re planning on keeping quiet too?”

You bite your lip, watching him eye you smugly as hand drifts between your legs. “Of course, I would never embarrass us like that,” you say, barely able to keep a straight face, thinking of the hotel noise complaint you received the first night of your visit.

He smirks, dragging his fingers through your wetness before drawing slow, feather light circles on your clit. You, of course, let out a low moan at the much anticipated contact. “Bold of you to assume I’m not proud of how I make my girl feel so fuckin’ good she can’t help but scream.”

His fingers increase their pressure and you moan again before leaning down to capture his lips in a charged kiss. “Mouth’s doing a lot of talking but not much else,” you sass, rolling your hips on his hand.

He grins, giving a quick slap to your bottom. “Anytime, baby,” he laughs, bringing a hand up to frame his mouth. “Your throne awaits.”

The both of you giggle as you move up to hover over his face. You look down and feel your heart begin to race, seeing the love drunk way he’s staring up at your body, licking his lips, caressing your thighs. “So fuckin’ beautiful,” he rasps. “So wet, so perfect, so ready for me… always so happy to eat this pussy, baby, so grateful I get another chance before you leave.”

You sigh his name as you lower yourself, gasping as your body makes contact with his mouth. He grips your thighs, pressing teasing open mouth kisses up and down your folds, making sure no area of your pussy feels unappreciated, while strategically stopping short of paying any attention to your clit. You impatiently wiggle around, trying to direct his movements by tangling your hands in his curls, trying to force some kind of stimulation but he’s too familiar with all your tricks and too stubborn to let you employ them.

“Ash,” you start, fingers pulling in his hair.

Muffled giggles sound out from underneath you. “Love, I’ve just started, you can’t be that impatient,” he laughs. He nips at your inner thighs and you feel him smile against your skin as you react to the feel of his beard. “Gimme a chance, let me work my magic.”

“Magic, eh?”

He scoffs, accepting your unspoken challenge. He makes his way up and down your center again, this time slowly dragging his tongue, making sure to trace every intricate detail of you. When he reaches your clit, he makes up for ignoring it before, lapping short but stiff strokes before wrapping his lips around it, providing loud, firm suction with complementary flourishes of his tongue circling you.

“Oh god, Ash,” you whine. He murmurs something in response and the vibrations of his voice against you add extra stimulation. You jump at the feeling of his tongue switching to a rapid fluttering motion and his grip on you tightens. You let him hold you, grateful for the support - he’s making you feel so good you’re not quite sure what to do with yourself and your hands indecisively alternate between your tits, your thighs and his hair.

Ash’s hands come around to your ass, squeezing as he pushes you up to check in. “Baby… first it wasn’t enough and now it’s too much?” He asks, tone half-curious, half-teasing.

You take a deep breath, shrugging. “Not too much, just really really good.”

His touch roams your body, moving from your ass to rub at your thighs to cup your tits. He asks with a twinkle in his eye, “You want me to stop?”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you laugh, playfully yanking his hair.

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to the inside of each of your thighs. “Think you should ride my face, love,” he suggests, suddenly licking a fat stripe up your pussy, enjoying the way your body jerks in reaction. “Your thighs are barely red, baby, it’s time to put in work.”

You grin and joke, “How else am I gonna remember you and this encounter without marks on my body?”

He giggles, positioning you back over his mouth. “Exthacthly," he says, speech impaired by the way he exaggeratedly has his tongue flattened and hanging out of his mouth, somehow making it look even wider than it already is.

You laugh at his goofiness but it gives way to a low hiss when he sucks your clit back between his lips. You begin working your hips, trying to match the rhythm he’s already using. The two of you communicate through grunts and murmurs, working together to find a pace that makes you breathless.

“Mmm… Ash…” You pant, pulling gently at his curls. He relaxes his tongue and the change in pressure makes you gasp. You groan quietly as you grind against him, leaning into the way he’s sloppily kissing your pussy. “Feels so good… you make me feel so good. Always do.”

A pleasantly painful burn warms your thighs, the result of both beard friction and muscle exertion as you continue to ride his face, the promise of your climax stirring within you. He grabs your ass, massaging your cheeks as you speed up to chase it. The more frantic your movements become, the tighter he grasps you and you cry out at the realization he’s leaving marks there too.

“Ash… babe… God, I’m… fuck, Ash, fuck,” you ramble, your orgasm suddenly threatening to wash over you. He keeps it consistent, letting the sensation build and build until he feels your legs tense around his head. You whine and huff through the waves of pleasure, Ash’s grip the only thing keeping you steady as your hips slow and your body goes slack.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart, I’ve got you,” he soothes, gently rubbing over your skin until you’re ready for him to help you down. He lays you on his chest again, wrapping his arms around your naked body, wanting to keep you warm. “Taste so good, rode my face so well… sound so beautiful cumming for me, love. Thank you.”

You weakly push yourself up, in search of a kiss. You groan at the taste of yourself on his tongue and again when you pull back to see his lips swollen and beard glistening as a result of your activities. “You’re good at that,” you say simply, brain too frazzled to think of a better way of putting it. He chuckles at your compliment, laughs becoming louder when you start to snuggle but stop to tug at his tank top and frown. “Why is this still here?”

He heeds your complaint, raising his arms to discard the offending clothing. He tries to pull you back into his arms but you continue to pout, eyes darting to glare at his jeans before looking up at him again. He snorts, pops the button and starts to shimmy them off. “If you wanted me naked, baby, could’ve just said so.”

“How do you not know by now that’s always implied?” You tease, finally curling up on him, lips immediately pressing to his chest, hand immediately wrapping around the bulge in his boxers.

“You’re right, baby, that’s my bad,” he laughs, running his hands up and down all your bare skin he can reach. He coaxes you into a slow kiss which easily becomes a lazy make out, the two of you unhurriedly touching each other. Your fingers dip inside his waistband and he pecks your lips, insisting, “I’m fine, sweetheart, you don’t have to.”

You nip at his neck and reply, “Don’t have to but want to.” You squeeze his cock, using the precum already formed at the tip to ease the slow strokes you begin on his length. He exhales deeply, eyes fluttering as your thumb rubs that spot just under the head like he loves. “How can I make you feel good, babe? Anything you want.”

“Mmm…” Ashton sighs. He closes his eyes and catches his lip between his teeth as you spoil him with affection: one hand twisting on his shaft, the other tracing an intricate design around his nipple. Your mouth marks a bright red spot onto the dip of his shoulder, careful to follow along his tan lines so it’ll stay covered on stage. “Think I wanna feel you around me.”

“I can do that,” you murmur, kissing up his jaw to his lips. You can tell he’s about to try to turn you over and you shake your head as you tug down his boxers. “Nah, just relax, babe. It’s my turn.”

You swing your leg over to straddle him and pull his cock away from his stomach, ducking down to lick over the drops of precum that have stuck to his tummy; he moans at the contact and you moan back, loving the way you can feel his breath shudder under your tongue.

Holding his gaze, you reach between your legs and run his length through your folds, coating him in your arousal. He realizes he’d been holding his breath and he puffs it out loudly, hands rubbing over your thighs in an attempt to ground himself. You press the head of his cock against your entrance, slowly pushing him inside as the two of you groan in unison.

Ash’s fingers dig into your hips as you sink down on him with remarkable restraint, inch by inch, torturously slow. You finally allow him to bottom out and your head lulls back as you squeeze your eyes shut and lick your lips, relishing the feeling of him filling you up. His hands travel up your body to grab your breasts, massaging them firmly.

“You alright, love?” He asks, slightly concerned you remain unmoving.

You nod as you lean in to give him a hungry kiss. “After this morning went the way it did, thought I wouldn’t feel you like this for a while,” you explain, stroking his beard, smiling into another kiss. “Just enjoying it.”

He wraps his arms around you, holding you tight against him while he remains buried in you. “Good, baby, me too.” You begin rocking your hips at a leisurely pace, letting him slide in and out while you continue to press kisses to his mouth. His hands travel down to your ass, squeezing your cheeks as he helps you grind on his cock. He sighs dreamily, “Fuck, I love you.”

“Love you too, babe,” you breathe, nipping at his jaw before righting yourself, running your fingers along his chest hair, massaging his pecs as you start more of a bouncing rhythm. You chuckle watching the large pendant he’s wearing dance across his chest as you move on his body. He tries to bring a hand between you to work your clit but you intercept it, interlacing your fingers and kissing his knuckles. “Wanna focus on you… I’ll go again later at the hotel.”

He moans, maybe it’s from the way you’re rotating your hips, maybe it’s from the knowledge that this doesn’t have to be the last time he has you before you leave, that your goodbye can last all day long, maybe into tomorrow if you’re lucky and the weather doesn’t clear up. Whatever the cause, you recognize the tone and know he’s getting close. You pick up the pace and his hands return to your tits, eager to hold them while you ride.

You lean back, bracing your hands on his thighs, arching your back and giving him quite the show as you work your bodies faster. Ashton now has a clear view of his cock disappearing inside you and as he becomes hypnotized watching you take him over and over, he lets out a low hum that becomes more and more whiny as it goes on.

“Baby…”

“I know… Want you to… Wanna feel…”

A series of whimpers escape his throat and then with a final grunt, he throws his head back, mouth hanging open in a silent cry. You feel his thighs tense under your touch and his hands desperately tighten around your breasts as his cock begins pulsing inside you. You coo soft praise and encouragement as he cums, caressing his chest, watching him closely for the signal that he needs you to stop moving.

He meets your eyes again, grinning as his hand trails over your stomach. “You sure, love?” He asks, fingers ready to continue their journey down.

You smile softly, insisting, “Just want a cuddle, to be honest.”

“Oh fuck yeah, sweetheart, me too,” he agrees, flexibly reaching behind himself for the tissue box on the end table.

You giggle at his enthusiasm and he smiles dopily as he cleans you up and lays back down so you can relax into his open arms. You snuggle into his side, laughing, “Guess you’re gonna have to think of some new goodbye sex ideas now.”

“OK well first of all, that wasn’t the goodbye sex. Trust me, you’d know if it were goodbye sex,” Ash protests boastfully, giggling as he squeezes your ass. “And second, as long as we’re naked, no thinking about saying goodbye or leaving or not being together in any way will be permitted, thanks.”

“My bad.”

“Them’s the rules.”

You poke the tattoo on his rib, teasing, “How can we have goodbye sex if we’re not allowed to think about goodbyes when we’re naked?”

He snorts, struggling to keep his serious expression. “Them’s the rules.”

You shake your head and peck at his chest. “Well, maybe we’ll luck out and that storm warning will be extended and I’ll get stuck again.”

He holds you tighter and sighs. “Here’s to hoping for another bad day.”

#5sos smut #5 seconds of summer smut #ashton irwin smut #ashton irwin fic #ashton smut #kindahoping4forever #smut #kh4f fic #there's just no getting through without you #no clue where this came from but i'm not mad about it lmao #the doc title for this one was 'floppy hat snugg daddy'#so. that tells you where my mind was at #pls lmk what you think!#feedback via asks and reblog tags are v v much loved and appreciated

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orchidyoonkook · 7 months

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Saw this today. And I kind of just sat for a moment in shock.

A fic with over 640 THOUSAND words.

A fic with over 84 THOUSAND hits.

And less than 1000 kudos??

Less than 250 comments??

This isn’t it guys. Fic is dying by the looks of these numbers. This author is putting their all into this story and not even 1000 of the 84000 people who opened the work could’ve been bothered to click one button to leave a kudo?

And this isn’t me bitching about me. If you know me you know I never expect likes or comments or reblogs on my work. But when I get them I’m over the moon. I’m showing my friends, my partner, my mom even my grandparents on occasion. I’m ecstatic.

But I don’t need them like other authors might. Like other authors may need them to know to keep going. To know their work is appreciated. To know what they are doing is worth doing and to stick at it.

So remember to be kind today. Leave a kudo. A comment. A reblog with a “I love this” in the tags.

It may not be much to you.

But it is everything to the writer.

#I’ve never felt the need to make one of these posts until I saw this #eighty four thousand people.#eighty four. thousand.#and only 919 of them bothered to let the author know they even liked it.#i just #when the numbers are like mine and small (which I am perfectly happy with so not mistake me)#do* not.#it doesn’t really matter as much to me cuz I don’t expect a huge amount of feedback and again that’s fine. that’s perfect. i love every #person who decided to read and leave a comment or like or reblog or review. like. that’s all I could ever ask for #but soemthing like this!??? that HAS the numbers and the following to be treated like this??#idk I felt the need to say SOMETHING. anything. fic didn’t used to be like this and even tho I say that like every other creator.#remember #I was a LONG TIME lurker before I ever posted something. but I always left a kudo or a comment.#always.#let people know their work is appreciated #yoons ramblings

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scumcoin · 1 year

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Pondering and Rambling About Isekai A Little Bittttt.....

Rewatching VS Knights of Lamune & 40 Fire. (mouthful of a title, henceforth 40 Fire)

For the unfamiliar, the Lamune series is SD mecha anime series, comparable to Mashin Eiyuu Wataru and Madou King Granzort. in both TV anime the hero is some bozo kid who gets sucked into a video game (in 40 Fire's case, a CD-ROM game that was inserted into a console that suspiciously resembles a playstation) only to be gilded with the title of the great hero Lamuness: in this case, our new protagonist Lamunedo is christened Lamuness the Third. It's pretty much text that Lamunedo is the son of the previous hero... I honestly don't wanna think about it too hard so I won't but his parents look like Milk, the last show's heroine and love interest, and the original protagonist.

It really be like that.

Given I've already watched this show (albeit over a decade ago and never in Japanese, and I suspect heavily censored as well), I probably won't be doing a lot of posts on it, but I recently rewatched a chunk of the original and I've been thinking about both shows approach to isekai and hell, the approach many other isekai shows take. Shows like this, Fushigi Yuugi, Those Who Hunt Elves, et cetera. There... wasn't much "I died and now I'm permanently in another world"... was there? But I'm not really thinking about those shows because I have seen neither, we're talking about Lamuness, a series aimed at kids. There's a lot to unpack about modern isekai's penchant for escapism in a Japan that's settled into its post-Bubble Era woes, but I'm not qualified to talk about something so culturally heavy nor is it super related. But I do wanna touch on the "method" of being spirited away into another world, and the story structure.

Like I said, it's anything but permanent. There's no truck, no sudden heart attack from overwork. Come, Lamuness, time to save the world. There's no time to waste. Get in the fucking TV. The method is an incredibly accessible one, arguably: getting sold a shady CD-ROM for like a dollar and getting whisked away when it boots.

The premise of this series is very goal-based, and it would not be an exaggeration to say that even if the person in these kinds of older isekai in general comes to love the world and decides to stay, there is always the goal of "get back home". Lamunedo has the hefty weight of defeating the demon god's henchmen before they revive him, and when it all ends he gets to go home (sorry for spoiling an anime that's like 25 years old at this point, but that's how most of these ended). In contrast to newer isekai shows where the story begins with the protagonist's life ending, cementing that this is their new life and that they have no real grand goal... unless the goal is to not die. You have to live your new life, effectively an escape from the old life lived previously. The protagonists often skew older in their original lives, office workers over the age of 20 or NEETs who have wasted their lives and what have you. The issue with a lot of newer isekai media is not that they're paint by the numbers, but that because there isn't much of an immediate goal in most, many cannot deliver on the breadth of the premise or many would consider a gimmick. They drown in trying to tick boxes of "you should know the genre the protagonist is stuck in if you've picked up this book/manga/anime, so I'm not gonna think too hard about it either". It's not a diss or anything, but if your protagonist is just going to live and adapt to a new world and you make it the entire premise then you better have thought of the world building at least a little, or give it an actual plot structure to follow that isn't just you going through a buffet table and piling on more cute girls/boys/etc onto the protagonist's plate. They overwhelm with technicalities like video game stats (STOP!!!!!!! STOP PUTTING STATS IN YOUR SHIT I'M GOING TO KILL MYSELF AND YOUR NAME WILL BE IN MY NOTE) and are indulgent in a lot of the wrong ways that may alienate those who do not consume the inspiration of the isekai much.

The best isekai that don't get immediately lambasted by the audience are isekai that dive right into the story without treating the outsider protagonist like someone standing behind the fourth wall at all times, and the rest of the world actually matters. Drawing attention to the fact that other characters are NPCs is tiring and makes me think I'm not supposed to care about them. It creates a vacuum where the only real person in the story is the protagonist and it's difficult to feel for a protagonist when everyone else is treated like an object. Both a literal object to interact with in a video game sense and in many cases a sexual object. Most good isekai will have you forget that the setting is based on something previously assumed to be fictional. It's not enough for the protagonist to be invested in the world, by the way. That's why shit like Shield Hero sucks ass even when you ignore the slavery shit (why would you though?!). I find that I prefer when it seems like the protagonist is in the story just like everyone else, rather than someone who consistently pushes against it. Of course there are many different ways to do it. This is a topic that's way too deep for me, and contrary to what my tone may convey I think that the genre is painted with an unfair brush so a lot of good shows slip through the cracks.

Or to be honest... the fact of the matter is that people are biased and judge stuff harshly just because they're a genre that's in vogue right now. Go figure. <-guy who hasn't even watched that many newer isekai shows

I'll make myself clear here: both old and new isekai are escapist fantasy and I dislike it when people try to paint escapism as a pathetic thing that only the NEW bad isekai shows employ. What's more escapist than being sucked into a video game and being told you're the hero that will save the world? You, a normal kid. What I find refreshing about the Lamuness series that I think newer light novels could learn from. There isn't any "I'll use my experience from the old world". Because Lamunedo is a child, and hero can never be an adult.

So that's a modern isekai shorthand immediately eliminated. (Note that I haven't once called anything a cliche in this post, I don't have that kind of scorn for the genre. I think it'd be good for actual critics to remove this buzzword from their vocabulary unless they truly face off against something that is an actual ripoff, because people have now taken the word cliche and turned it into an entirely negative thing, same with the word trope. But I digress.)

The entire point of the series is to be an escapist fantasy for little kids who love RPGs, but you'll never once see a stat block nor will you hear much of bosses in the video game sense. Sure, maybe the tyke will wonder about home every now and then but after this point you're set off into the story with the express goal of saving the world. There's nothing deep to think about. Traversing through different "space"s and RPG village-like places is a given, and it seems like they're made up as you go unless they're on a map explicitly (they are supposedly, but they still feel made up). You won't hear much about what Lamunedo thinks besides the fact that his (and Da Cider's) BIG COOL MECHA has his blood pumping.

This is what I mean by goal driven: it ironically feels much more like a video game without constantly bringing attention to the fact that it's supposed to be a video game. A big greater goal punctuated by smaller goals and pitstops is how a lot of JRPGs progress. Perhaps it's prescient to compare a lot of newer isekais to an open world game: you're doing... something, there are story important cutscenes, but you meander around until you hit them and often you are sidetracked. It works when you're the one doing it, but when an isekai story is overwhelmed by the lack of nothing it is accomplishing that's when the audience disengages and starts wondering why the protagonist is a fucking idiot, and why they won't do something that actually matters. Have you ever watched someone dick around in Skyrim? Unless you really like Skyrim in my opinion it's not very fun to watch.

I find that this is why villainess isekai is so popular. Many employ the otome genre, which are much more linear in comparison. Sure, you make choices that lead you off to other routes and affect what ending you get, but everyone who plays Norn9 for example is playing the same Norn9 that the next person plays. Even with linear RPGs, you could be underleveled, you could favor certain characters, your experience can still be somewhat varied. Therefore, in a villainess scenario where the base is an otome game, there is an enforcement of an in-game clock where events will happen regardless of how much you dawdle. In fact, slacking tends to be punished. I'm aware that there are similar premises that don't employ a villainess or are based on other genres that are associated with women like management sims and mobile games, but in general they tend to emphasize proactiveness (also I'm speaking very broadly). Even the characters are treated with care. Sure, the heroine may casually spoil their supposed fate and metagame with previous knowledge, but they feel like actual characters.

In any case, as I've stated several times I carry no ire towards the genre. You'll catch me dead before I watch crap like Mushoku Tensei and Shield Hero but there's plenty of isekai manga and anime that I've either enjoyed or am looking forward to enjoying, past or present. But rewatching the Lamuness series got me thinking a lot about it. I wasn't even intending on writing most of what I wrote and I'll be honest when I say I don't consider myself a writer: I'm not the most eloquent and I struggle to express how I feel but by god do I express.

#general thoughts #cullen rewatches 40 fire #isekai #any comments feedback and reblogs appreciated :pleading:#anime essay #essay #isekai is such a fascinating genre even though i dont have much exp with it

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sowhathoe · 2 years

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The Weeping Pestilence returns

WEEPING for KOIIOK-tober

From KOllOꓘ (EP. 1x20)

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t-lostinworlds · 1 year

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#ignore this lol #i'm just in my feels atm #but yeah kinda sucks being on here tbh lmao #idk if this is just a weird phase or whatever #but been thinking about moving my writing somewhere else idk #it's just disheartening to still be so excited writing about a character #but that excitement quickly gets shat on the minute u post the fic #and don't get me wrong #i appreciate every single one of u who've supported me #and who always ALWAYS leave a comment on my stuff #i always rememeber ur users and icons bc u guy keep me going #but u know when you're excited to tell someone something #and u just get that forced smile and 'yeah that's great'#it sucks bc i'm still enjoying writing so much #i'm still so so so excited with my wips but i don't think it's worth posting anymore #bc every time i do that excitement just.....flops lmao #and like u just cant help but feel even more like shit #when u see other ppl get feedback with no problem at all #bc trust me when i notice that same username who only liked my fic but reblogged and commented on others #and it sucks to see bc obvs they have no problem leaving feeback #unless its your fic and it happens to me ALL the time #so u can't help but think it's obvs bc of you right? and ur writing just isn't it? lmao #so maybe i'll just keep everything in the docs from now on #and maybe send some links to ppl who want to read it #but other than that...idk anymore

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taegularities · 8 months

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Is cmi going to continue?🥹

hi there!! i really want it to, but it depends a lot on you guys, too 🥺 so far it's not going too bad or super great, but i also don't wanna say or decide anything yet – i'll wait a lil, since it's a long chapter and it might take people some time to get through it!! will see how things are in a week or so. in any case, support it a lot, loves. i do mean it when i say you can absolutely spam me.. definitely don't wanna abandon them <3

#and i promise i usually don't do this but this time i had to bc life just got SO busy 😭 so there's barely any time left to write #so just wanna make sure i use that time for wips that we truly DO want yk!! yall send so many sweet messages every day 🥺#about anything!! only the fic ones lessened a lil somehow but yeah i appreciate all you have to say hehe questions or praise or anything #also nobody has to do it ofc but i also appreciate it so much when some of you drop by and lmk they'll still read later bc they're busy #shows me that you really care and do want to support it and yeah 🥺#don't be shy keep giving it love <3 meaning reblogs feedback asks.. makes me so happy mwah #also 😌 cmi11 is fkn awesome and cmi12 even more just saying hehehehehe 😌#notes for rid 🌹#anon #fic: colour me in

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farmerlesbian · 2 years

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ftr i only tag like (reclaimed) slurs on here bc i feel like this is a ~big blog and has (what to me feels like) a lot of followers. i dont tag them on my personal blog bc i do what i want there.

starting to kinda question this decision like mini policy i made for myself and if it really makes sense. for me it feels bad and i dont particularly like tagging all uses of them but idk idk what do you guys think? how do yall feel? really would like more input on this. i see both (? i think there's only 2 sides but idk) sides but neither option feels great.

#reclaimed slurs #slur reclamation #tagging slurs #uh #not farmer lesbian content #mod alfalfa #i kind of intended this blog and see it as a community space more?#and not really a personal place so i just don't feel as much ownership to make choices like i want this to be #hmmm as... inclusive? as it can be for lack of a better word #i do hope yall can tell i like to call myself a dyke based on how much i reblog stuff with that in it #maybe its a bad sign if i'm only tagging it bc i feel obligated?#euughh bad options all around #again pls do give ur thots n feedback much appreciated lov u all #i don't know if theres a right answer #i just want to know how my followers feel about it like what yall would prefer / be ok with #about

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acacia-may · 1 year

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Why do you follow me and/or what content and/or fandom do you follow me for? Please consider sending in an ask letting me know. Thank you! 🥰

(A/N: I saw something akin to this floating around for a bit but never reblogged (and now I can’t find it 🙈) so I’m making my own because I’m having a bit of blog identity crisis and also trying to decide what to do with this blog going forward… 😅 This blog became way more multi-fandom than I was anticipating when I made it and I’ve tried out a lot of different things here, so I’m really curious. Any feedback would be appreciated, but no pressure if you don’t want to participate. Thanks for playing! 💖)

#thank you so much friends!! 🥰#having a bit of a blog identity crisis tbh 🙈#trying to decide what do going forward so any feedback would be appreciated #also feel free to reblog if you’d also like to play

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pogueszn · 1 year

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i say u should come back 🤭 no one does it like you-🪴

this is so sweet 😭😭 thank you lovely!

honestly i’ve been thinking over the weekend of possibly doing a soft launch and posting something and seeing the feedback and see if it’s worth returning bc posting work and then not getting any feedback other than just like is a bit demotivating so maybe! i might just lurk on here and answer any questions for a while until i decide if i’d want to!

#🪴anon #answered #anon #give your favorite writers on here feedback! it’s much appreciated!#give ‘em a little reblog and let em know what you liked about it #it’s like giving em a lil kiss on the forehead 💜

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jonismitchell · 2 years

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#arden speaks #flame*#spilling ink #tumblr poetry #poets on tumblr #writeblr #writers of tumblr #anyway. likes/reblogs are appreciated feedback is appreciated thank you all very much!

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kindahoping4forever · 2 years

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You Feel Like A Holiday // Ashton Irwin

Of course the cabin would find its way into the Stage!Ash universe at some point! I was so excited when I came up with the concept for this Christmas fic last year, I actually paused writing the Halloween fic to start on this one lol. Thank you to @cal-puddies for enduring endless drafts of this and to everyone who requested the return of Stage!Ash over the past year, I always knew I'd get around to finishing these "lost" fics but I don't know that I'd have the confidence to post them so belatedly if it wasn't for the support and affection for this series.

This is somewhat of an ending to this series - I'd say it's enough of a conclusion to the emotional thread that if I never wrote this couple again, we'd all be satisfied but it's still open-ended enough for me to continue if it felt necessary. I'd love to know your thoughts on this!

Warnings: Boyfriend!Ash, Stage!Ash: Christmas Getaway Edition. So much soft, romantic shit it's actually embarrassing, like I was clearly going through something. Brief mention of weed use, 69 (simultaneous oral sex), needy sex by the fireplace, cockwarming. Seriously, though, this fic will absolutely call you single. I'm the person who wrote it and it hurt MY feelings.

Word Count: 12k

Encore: A Stage!Ash Series Masterlist

Masterlist // Ko-Fi linked above

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

You rub your tired eyes and roll over to face the chuckling man laying in your bed beside you. “Wait… what? Are you serious?”

Ashton answers with a soft smile as he reaches over to run a hand gently down your back. “Baby, you’ve been dealing with a lot of stress already before this back-and-forth game you have going on with your parents. ‘Can’t wait for you to come home for Christmas… no, actually don’t, it’s not safe… OK, come home but don’t bring guests… and since you’ll already be here, might as well all quarantine through New Year’s and spend that together’,” he recaps the past couple weeks of messages you’ve relayed to him.

“I guess it has been a lot,” you admit.

“Soooo, would you want to go up to the cabin, turn our phones off and spend Christmas just the two of us?” He repeats his suggestion.

You frown, thinking. “I dunno, Ash… didn’t you say Mike was having a thing at his place? Since you can’t go home, you should still be with family.”

“I would be,” he says simply.

As if his offer wasn’t enough to floor you, the casual way he notes how close you’ve become leaves you speechless. You stare in dreamy disbelief at your boyfriend; even after dating for half a year, you’re still not sure how to respond when his earnestness catches you off guard like this.

Ashton is unfazed by your silence, leaning over your pillow to press a kiss to your forehead. “You deserve a break and you know your parents will be thrilled to see you no matter what date the calendar says.”

He starts to lay back down but you stop him by taking his face in your hands and kissing him. The look in his eyes when he pulls away tells you he understands how much this conversation has meant to you. “I have been wondering when I’d get my invitation up there,” you tease.

“Well, this is obviously a pity invite,” Ash giggles, unable to keep a straight face. “Plus, it’s way too cold for Calum this time of year.”

You land a few playful jabs to his side before he scoops you up to lay on his chest and the two of you discuss logistics until you fall asleep.

You decide to head out a few days before Christmas since there’s a storm making its way up the coast and you want to be settled before any rain or snow starts up. Telling your family about your change of plans goes much smoother than you expected and by the time you’re sitting in Ash’s passenger seat, tucking into a hot coffee and breakfast sandwich, you’re feeling relaxed already.

“It’s an easy trip up, just a couple hours,” he explains as he climbs in the car, waiting all of 8 seconds before planting his hand on your thigh. He queues up the playlist he put together for the ride and mentions, “There’s a market just down the road from my place, figure we can make a quick grocery and firewood stop on the way.”

You raise his hand to your lips, kissing it before placing it back on your leg where it belongs. “Sounds like a plan,” you chirp enthusiastically.

As promised, the drive flies by - it’s always easy to lose track of time when you and Ash get to talking. At the store, you stroll the aisles together, breezing through the necessities list you made on the ride there. As you’re tossing the last of your items onto the checkout counter, Ashton casually announces he forgot something, hands you his car key and credit card and vows to meet you outside. Your curiosity outweighs your suspicion and you play along, paying the bill and pushing the cart out to the parking lot.

Midway through putting the bags in the trunk, you laugh to yourself as you realize you’d recognize the sound of his keys jangling on his belt loop anywhere. You turn around to see a grinning Ash headed towards you with a boxed artificial Christmas tree hoisted over his shoulder and two bags containing ornaments and lights hanging off his arms.

“Ash,” you sigh. “You didn’t have to do this.”

He cheerfully brushes off your comment and carefully fits the box in the car. “Well, what’s Christmas without a tree?”

“We’re literally going to a forest,” you reply playfully.

He giggles as he pokes your side, unwilling to let you deflect from how touched you are by his gesture. “You’re welcome, baby.” He pulls you in, kissing your temple.

It only takes a few more songs on the playlist to arrive at Ashton’s cabin and it's as peaceful and cozy as you’d hoped it would be. The pictures you'd seen and stories you'd heard definitely made it seem like an idyllic getaway but as you follow Ash into the charming avocado green house, you’re still surprised by how instantly at home and welcome you feel.

“Lemme get this fire going and then I’ll give you the grand tour,” he promises, quickly unpacking the supplies from the market.

You nod agreeably, watching as he shrugs off his coat and starts working to set up the fireplace. The way his large frame contrasts the small living room, how he so easily hauls the wood around, how carefully his hands work to arrange everything - it all makes you want to curl up into him and let yourself drown in his warmth. You know there’ll be plenty of time for that later so for now, you just admire from afar.

With the fire now warming the cabin, Ashton shows you around, beaming as he points out which features are his favorites and what he thinks you’ll love. It’s not a large property by any means but it takes a while to move through the space since of course he has an anecdote for just about every piece of art or furniture he selected.

“I hope it isn’t too cold to hang out back here. At night we’ve got heat lamps and the fire pit and in the mornings, the sun hits everything so perfectly,” he comments as you follow him onto the large deck. “Having the forest right there, almost like it’s my backyard… I could stay out here for hours. Writing, smoking, just thinking… it’s perfect for just about everything. There’s nothing like this view.”

“I’ll say,” you flirt, sliding your arms around his waist and snuggling into his side.

He laughs, giving you a squeeze. “That’s so cheesy!”

You shake your head. “It’s true! I love watching how you get when you’re passionate about something.”

“Well in that case,” he says, smoothly bringing you into a slow kiss.

You giggle as you pull away, “That was cheesy.”

The two of you work together to unload the car and get your belongings somewhat organized. The weather stays agreeable enough for Ash to fire up the barbecue and grill some burgers for an early dinner. The evening is devoted to moving the furniture around so there’s room to assemble and decorate the Christmas tree you both now apparently own.

“You realize we’re going to all this trouble just so we can undo it all in a couple days and lug everything all the way home?” You tease as you grab the popcorn out of the microwave, emptying it into a bowl to cool before you string it.

“Nah,” Ashton jovially shrugs off your remark, stepping back to admire the lights he’s just finished wrapping around the tree’s branches. “It’s fake so we can just leave it up and deal with it next time we visit… stick the box in the spare room and it’ll be here waiting for us next Christmas.”

There it is again: the way your heart skips a beat, that familiar warmth that floods your veins whenever he talks about the future. You’ve been together a matter of months and yet he so easily references being with you in a year’s time, like it’s a given - not that he takes your presence for granted but that it’s only logical you’d be spending another holiday season together. You’ve found each other and you belong with him now, your plans are his and his yours.

As your mind processes these thoughts, you cross the room and do what you’ve become accustomed to doing when you’re feeling overwhelmed: you slip your arms around your boyfriend and bury your face in his back. The knitted sweater he’s wearing is scratchy against your face but you don’t care, you press yourself harder against him, inhaling deeply, letting both his scent and his body heat ground you.

You can tell Ashton’s not exactly sure why you’re feeling the way you are but he knows enough to let you take what you need from him in this moment. He separates your clasped hands from around his torso and takes one in each of his hands, holding them tightly as he crosses his own arms around himself, essentially helping you hug him.

He sways with you for a moment before gently breaking the silence because it’s in his nature to. “Popcorn smells good.”

You smile into his back, pressing a kiss to the center before loosening your hold on his body. “I was thinking about throwing another bag in to snack on while we decorate. We’ve got plenty.”

He turns around and cups your chin to kiss you softly. “Perfect.”

The next morning, you roll over, intending to curl up against Ash but instead are met with the feeling of cold sheets and an unoccupied pillow; your eyes shoot open, lips forming into a pout. The sound of an acoustic guitar strumming in the distance softens your mood instantly and you get out of bed, sliding your feet into a pair of slippers and draping a blanket over the shoulders of the henley you stole from Ash to sleep in, and you follow the music out onto the deck.

You step outside and discover that not only is the weather surprisingly mild for a December morning, it’s apparently warm enough that Ashton is out here, barefoot and in his bathrobe, spread out on the patio couch with his guitar. As you walk over, you note the empty coffee mug, picked over bowl of fruit and half-finished joint in the ashtray sitting on the fire pit ledge - it looks like he’s been out here a while.

“Mornin’, baby!” He greets you cheerfully, moving to a cross-legged position to make room for you on the couch. “Hope the music wasn’t too loud?”

“The music was nice, the bed was just too cold without you,” you explain, giving him a quick kiss before you sit down, murmuring at the combination of coffee, smoke and citrus on his lips.

“Aww, poor baby,” Ash playfully pouts, reaching over to squeeze your knee through your flannel pajama pants. “I wanted to make sure I got some writing time out here before the storm, my creativity is always so different up here. I didn’t think you’d be a fan of the early wakeup call, so I let you be.”

“My hero,” you grin, leaning over to kiss him more thoroughly, happily scratching over the fresh stubble adorning his previously clean-shaven cheeks. “Mmm, can one of my Christmas gifts be you not shaving while we’re here?”

“Didn’t even consider bringing a razor,” he laughs, leaning into your touch.

You settle back and relax on the couch, listening to him skillfully pluck the steel strings of his guitar while you help yourself to the breakfast he abandoned. Ash was right, the morning sun hits just right, warming your skin and casting a luscious glow across the deck. He pauses his playing to scrawl something into a notebook and you study him as you pick up the still burning joint from the ashtray and take a puff. The way the sunlight catches the natural highlights in his hair, that one particular curl hanging over his furrowed brow as he writes, his jaw clenching and unclenching in concentration. You weren’t kidding when you said this was your favorite view.

He reaches over to set the guitar aside and you feel your eyebrows involuntarily raise at how it causes his robe to pull open slightly, exposing even more of his bare chest. His dark chest hair is already a tempting invitation to touch but the gold medallion resting between his pecs somehow makes him look even broader than usual and you find yourself unable to resist any longer.

You take another hit and scoot closer to your boyfriend, brushing the hair out of his eyes as he leans over his writing. “Hi,” you coo innocently, placing the joint between his lips, letting him take a puff before you return it to your own mouth.

“Hi,” he responds, simultaneously suspicious and amused as he watches you reach for the ashtray. “What’s up?”

You bat your eyelashes coyly, running your hand through his curls and down to cradle the base of his neck. “Nothin’... just like watchin’ you.”

He smiles sweetly, clearly basking in your attention. He plants a playful kiss on your lips before pulling away to laugh, “I almost said ‘good thing I like being watched’ but that sounds like a conversation for a different time.”

Surprise and desire light up your eyes as you pull him in by the collar of his colorful robe. “OK, so we’re definitely revisiting this topic,” you giggle naughtily. You don’t mean to kiss him with the full force of the hunger you’re feeling, you meant to play it cool for a little while longer but it’s hard not to get carried away when you’re with him. He meets your energy, tongue playing with yours as his fingers nimbly unfasten the buttons of your shirt, making room for him to slide his hands inside to paw at your breasts; your hands dip inside his robe, rubbing at his defined chest, brushing through the hair you’d been so eager to touch.

Your hands eventually travel further down and you chuckle as it dawns on you that you don’t feel the waistband of his underwear. “Excuse me, sir, are you seriously out here naked under this robe?” You cackle, tugging at the belt until the fit loosens so you can explore more.

Ashton shrugs, proudly declaring, “Just tryin’ to be one with nature.”

“Hey, I thought the cold was supposed to make guys smaller,” you joke as you let your fingers graze his cock.

He replies with a smirk, “Well that clearly doesn’t account for those who have their gorgeous beyond belief girlfriend with them.”

The grin you’ve been wearing is so wide by now, your face almost hurts. “Well played, sir. Well played,” you nod, shifting down the couch to position yourself on your knees, between his legs.

“We should also revisit the topic of you calling me ‘sir’,” he quips, his laugh turning to a groan as you open the robe fully and dip down to roll your tongue over the head of his cock.

He starts, “Baby…” but never finishes the thought, the rest of his words swallowed in the deep breath he takes while he watches you ghost your lips up and down his shaft, the both of you relishing the feeling of him growing harder as you work. He presses back into the pillow resting against the arm of the couch and softly runs a hand through your hair, letting his touch tell you how much he appreciates you.

Your eyes flit up to meet his when your lips close around him and glide down his length. You both keep eye contact as your warm mouth begins moving up and down, until you close your eyes to concentrate on taking more of him but even then, you can feel his gaze steady on you, his attention focused on every bob of your head and swirl of your tongue. You hear him sigh your name as he hits the back of your throat before you sloppily pull back up, letting your spit fall freely, dripping onto his cock, making him shiny and wet for you.

You lock eyes with Ash again as you lift your head, stopping to suck at his tip, making sure to exaggeratedly pout your lips to emphasize how wide you have to open your mouth to accommodate his size. Judging from his glassy-eyed, slack-jawed expression, it’s no surprise to you when his lips move as if he intends to praise you but no sound emerges. Leaving Ashton speechless - especially during sex - is no small feat and you feel both pride and confidence surge through you as you pull off with a loud pop to address him.

“Seems like you’re a fan of watching me too, aren’t you, babe?” You tease, pumping him slowly.

He blinks rapidly, as if the process will reset his weed and lust clouded mind. He finally gives a chuckle of your name as he lolls his head back. “Just look so fuckin’ amazing when you take me,” he purrs dreamily. “Can’t keep my eyes off you. Love watching you be so good to me.”

His compliment immediately stokes the fire in you and you don’t want to waste another second not pleasing him. “Well then, you’ll definitely love seeing this,” you promise. You brace your hands on his thighs as you lower your mouth on his cock again, this time determined to take him into your throat as much as you possibly can.

“Jesus, love,” he whimpers as you sink further and further on him. You flutter your tongue while you work him down and out of the corner of your eye, you see his fist clenching the material of his robe as he fights the urge to thrust into your mouth. “So fucking good, baby…”

You reach your limit and start to come back up, lungs burning as you repress your need to breathe in favor of maintaining a heavy suction on his cock while you pull off. As soon as your lips are off him, Ashton’s hands are on you, holding you as you pant, pulling you up to him.

“C’mere,” he coaxes, thumbs tenderly wiping at the tears on your cheeks and the drool on your chin. His lips peck at your neck as you catch your breath and as he moves in to finally slot his lips with yours, you hear the breathy “good girl” your mind has been craving.

“I’m not done yet,” you quietly protest against his lips.

His teeth tug at your bottom lip as he pulls away. “I know,” he grins. His hands travel down your back, slipping inside your pajama pants to squeeze your ass. “You were just making me feel so good, I was getting impatient to show you my appreciation.”

“Well… that’s fair,” you say with an air of mock arrogance before melting with a half-moan, half-laugh as he nips at your skin.

“Can I take these off?” He asks, hooking his thumbs inside the waistbands of your pants and underwear. You nod and the two of you fumble and giggle trying to undress your bottom half; you’re finally freed of the offending clothes and Ash lets his hands roam your bare ass as he gives you a kiss that’s somehow both calming and frantic in its passion. You gasp into his mouth as he brings his hand between your legs, gently tracing through your wetness. He rasps, “Yeah… I thought so, baby… knew my girl was needing some attention.”

You quietly whine and rock against his hand, wrestling with your desire to finish the blowjob but now also tempted to seek out your own orgasm as soon as possible. “Always need this kind of attention from you,” you admit, sighing as he leans forward to bury his face inside your shirt, mouthing over your tits.

He kisses you, wild with need, before looking up at you with fire in his eyes. “I have an idea if you’re up for trying something?”

You agree with a cautious laugh and then Ashton is helping you to turn around so that you’re straddling him but facing away. About halfway through following his direction, a switch flips inside your brain and you realize what he’s suggesting. You eagerly get yourself into position, propping yourself up on your hands over his crotch while you scoot the rest of your body down until you feel his breath between your legs.

“Good girl,” he praises in a quiet voice, deepening with desire.

“This experiment is gonna be over pretty quick if you keep calling me that,” you crack, reaching for his cock. He laughs, giving a playful slap to your ass. You laugh with him, “Or if you keep doing that.”

He chuckles, using his hands to encourage your body down within range of his face. He tentatively rubs his scruff around your inner thighs while you test your position by pressing chaste kisses to his balls. He checks in, “Comfortable, baby?”

“Except for when I think about the extreme close-up view you're getting of my asshole right now," you joke.

"Another topic we’ll revisit at a later date," he cackles, massaging your cheeks.

“Oh my god,” you laugh at his comment. Before you’re done giggling, he flattens his tongue and gives a long lick up your pussy. You groan out a surprised but relieved, “Oh my god.”

He continues, humming happily as he licks, nips and sucks at you, exploring how to best please you in this angle and position. You admit you were skeptical about this at first but as you subtly roll your hips over his face while you sink your mouth down on his cock, you think to yourself that your boyfriend might be a genius.

You easily find a rhythm with each other, communicating through murmurs and muffled sighs and you quickly get lost in pleasuring each other. Ash’s tongue diligently licks away at you while yours runs along the underside of his cock as you bob up and down. He’s the first to pull away, moaning your name loudly when you pull up and start lapping sloppily around his tip.

“Mmm, baby… that’s… yeah,” he rambles, letting out a long breath as your hand starts lightly working over his balls.

Ashton regains his composure and continues his efforts, teasing your entrance before moving towards your clit with a slow drag of his tongue. He flicks over it a few times before fitting it between his lips and sucking gently. He increases the pressure, buzzing appreciatively and you’re not sure if he’s responding to your taste or the work you’re doing on him but the shiver it sends down your spine has you whining around him.

“Ash…” You sound desperate and slightly unlike yourself but the way he’s eating you feels too good for you to worry with self-consciousness. “God, keep… that… that, like that.”

He follows your jumbled instructions, fingers digging into the skin of your thighs as he struggles to hold your bucking hips still above him. You breathe deep to steady yourself before you take his cock into your mouth again, moving down his length in time with the strokes of his tongue on your clit.

Your head spins as the entire situation threatens to overwhelm your senses: the cool morning air raising goosebumps on your exposed body while the bright sun and constant touch of Ashton’s hands work in tandem to warm your skin. The taste of the precum steadily leaking onto your tongue, the muted groans of praise coming from the man underneath you. The feeling of your body rocking back and forth, grinding against his face while sliding your mouth on his length, your mind on fire from both receiving and giving pleasure.

You pull off to lick up and down the sides of his cock, needing a moment to catch your breath but also needing to keep tasting him, keep pleasing him, keep hearing him fall apart for you. Ash’s tongue picks up speed, fluttering over your clit so rapidly you can’t do anything but bury your face in his thigh and moan.

“I know, I know, love… taste so sweet, baby, I feel like I can’t get enough,” he praises, pecking at your pussy softly. He rubs the small of your back soothingly, watching you try your hardest to keep stroking him despite being so close to the edge yourself. “Your hands always feel so nice on me, baby… make me feel so fucking good.”

You visibly perk back up from his compliments. “Always want you to feel so good, Ash… you deserve it,” you huff against his leg, hand determined to keep working him. “Always make me feel incredible… you should feel that way too… love being the one who gets to do it.”

He kisses your legs sweetly, loving your half-stoned, half-love-drunk ramblings. “No one else could ever make me feel like you do,” he declares. He gives your ass a squeeze before asking, “Think you’re ready to cum with me, baby?”

You let out a weak but agreeable mewl and right yourself, raising your head over him again. Your brain tries to formulate a sexy reply or a flirty joke but all you can think about is how badly you want to feel his tongue on you again, how you can’t wait to taste his cum splashing into your mouth. These thoughts swirl around your head as you lean in to swirl your tongue around the head of Ash’s cock. The whine it earns you from him is so viscerally satisfying to you, you briefly wonder if you might beat him to the finish line right now this second.

Your hands and mouth work over Ash while he resumes worshiping you with his tongue; he tightly grips your ass, pressing you further down onto his face, completely burying himself in your pussy. The wide surface of his tongue lavishes over every sensitive inch of you and as his lips close over your clit, you feel that familiar fire starting to build in your belly. You hollow your cheeks, doubling your efforts on him, determined to push him over the edge first. In an inspired moment, you decide to carefully run your nails over his inner thighs, knowing he might appreciate the surprisingly sharp feeling. You hear his muffled reaction from behind you and when you press down just a little bit harder, you feel his cock jump on your tongue.

The both of you expertly work each other’s bodies, tirelessly sending the other barreling towards their release until finally it’s as if time slows down, allowing you to feel everything happening at once. Your hips jerk over his face and you feel the pleasure start rippling through your core. Ashton groans against you as his cock begins pulsing, flooding your mouth with his cum, the vibrations of his outburst amplifying the sensations of your own climax. Your brain and body feel overloaded with stimulation as you try to concentrate on swallowing all that he’s giving you while still losing yourself in the endless waves of your orgasm.

The intertwined sounds of your combined satisfaction eventually fade into blended gasps and pants and you feel Ash tenderly stroking the backs of your thighs as your upper body suddenly goes slack, your head falling onto the couch, exhausted. He sweetly pecks over your skin for a beat, letting you have a moment before gently tapping your leg, saying, “Come kiss me.”

You smile into the couch cushion at the simplicity of his request; the joy that washes over you in that moment gives you the strength you need to pick your body back up and turn yourself around to lay on his chest.

“There’s my girl,” he coos, gathering the fallen sides of the robe he’s wearing and wrapping them around you, cocooning you to him. You press your lips to his and neither of you comment on how the taste of one another lingers on each other’s tongues but the revelation is so simultaneously filthy and intimate, you feel absolutely intoxicated by the time the kiss is finished.

You look at him, dazed smile on your face. “That was…”

You can’t find the words to describe it but he agrees nonetheless. “Definitely.”

“I forgive you for leaving me alone in a cold bed,” you tease.

He cackles loudly. “Oh? Never would’ve guessed.”

That blend of goofy tenderness becomes the brand of the day. You finally make it off the couch and inside to share a more substantial meal and a hot shower. After checking the forecast, Ashton excitedly shares that the inclement weather isn’t scheduled to hit until late night, so you decide to make a quick trip down to the store for a few things you’d wished you’d bought yesterday.

You’re steering the cart towards the parking lot when, just like your previous trip, Ash tosses you the key, saying he has to go back for something.

“We don’t have room for another Christmas tree, Ash,” you tease.

He mockingly repeats your joke before kissing your cheek and taking off in the opposite direction. There’s only a few bags to load into the trunk this time so you’re all packed up before he makes it back. You lock up and turn to push the basket towards the return aisle at the end of the row when you see Ashton emerge from the store holding a bouquet of roses. You feel your face warm instantly and you stop, holding onto the cart tightly to collect yourself. You realize you’re swooning as you watch him, looking sleek in his long trench coat and boots, bright smile adorning his face as he joyfully brings you fresh flowers for seemingly no reason, and it hits you that you've lost track of how many times he’s made you literally weak in the knees.

You finish putting the cart away and you start towards him, figuring you’ll meet him halfway. He spots you when he makes it onto your row and smoothly moves his hands behind his back to obscure the gift but as you get closer, he reads your expression and accepts defeat.

He laughs and calls out, “You saw already, didn’t you?”

You grin, nodding sheepishly. “Didn’t mean to but you caught my attention… so unlike me, I know,” you giggle, skipping your steps a little to get to him faster.

As soon as he’s within reach, you wrap your arms around his neck and bring him down to your lips, unwilling to wait another second to show him your appreciation. He happily reciprocates your affection and holds you tightly to him with one arm as he pulls away to give you the flowers.

“I don’t know… I saw these on our way out and thought you should have them,” he shrugs, almost blushing and it’s so adorable you’re having a hard time not immediately interrupting him for another kiss. “Think they’d look nice on the nightstand on your side of the bed.”

“They’re perfect,” you gush, gleefully inhaling their sweet scent. “And you’re not so bad either.”

The rest of the afternoon is lazy and comfortable. The two of you head back out to the deck and hang out in blissful silence: Ash occasionally strumming his guitar but mainly writing in his journal, you busy with the holiday needlepoint kit you bought at the market because it seemed like a cabin-y activity to try and you figured you could send the finished product home to your parents.

When it gets a bit too cold to stay outside, you help Ash move and cover the patio furniture for the storm and start discussing dinner. He picks out a record to play and gets the fireplace going while you throw some soup on the stove because it’s easy and sounds cozy on such a chilly night. You eat and talk and when you’re done eating, you sit at the table and talk some more. Since you cooked, he suggests you go relax by the fire and he’ll tackle the clean up; you put on another album, grab your needlepoint and a blanket and stretch out on the couch.

He comes into the living room a while later, carefully carrying two mugs of hot cocoa and the bag of mini marshmallows you bought earlier. “Didn’t know how many you’d want,” he explains, dropping the bag in your lap as he sets the mugs on the coffee table in front of you. You murmur your thanks as you curl your legs under you so he can sit down. After a short but heated debate over the proper amount of marshmallows that belong in a serving of hot chocolate, you sit quietly and enjoy the fire together.

Ashton gets up to throw another log in the fireplace. He looks back at you, snug on the couch with your project and smiles, asking thoughtfully, "Do you think you could ever live like this?”

“Is this a romantic ‘what if’ scenario about the two of us specifically or like a value based, practical conversation?”

He laughs, lifting your legs and setting them in his lap as he sits back down. “Practical.”

You take a sip, thinking. “I don’t know… I love how quiet it is up here, love how remote it is, how removed it feels from everything. Obviously it's gorgeous. But I definitely feel like there are things about ‘city life’ that I'm not sure I'd be able to give up.”

“OK, see, that’s the thing - I feel like I should be embarrassed saying this but… I like the city?" He says, with equal parts passion and incredulity. "I like that anything you want is so readily accessible at any time, I like meeting dozens of new people everyday, I like getting bored at 10pm on a Saturday night and knowing I’ll always be able to find somewhere to go and it’s anybody’s guess if it’s going to be a worthwhile endeavor but goddamn, good or bad, it’s gonna be memorable… No two nights are ever the same in LA and I find that beautiful.”

You rub over his arm, fondly, enjoying his passion. “I feel the same way, if I’m really honest with myself. It’s like the simplicity here is quaint to us now because we're not used to it and we know we’re only going to be here so long. But once the novelty wore off, that monotony would be a tough adjustment for some people."

He plays with the hem of your sweats. “But I think I would like to get to the point where I don't feel like I need those other things. Where I could sustain a life out here, or somewhere like this. Something pure, something free… more natural, I guess.”

“I think you could, you’re very resourceful and adaptable and very at peace with yourself," you muse, nudging him. "I think you’d be able to recreate those 'city' experiences or find something that gives you those same feelings out here on your own.”

“Doesn’t necessarily have to be on my own,” he points out, nudging you back.

You tease, “You really think being in my presence is on the same level of thrills as living in the city?”

“I mean, you’re pretty cool, baby, but I was actually talking about moving Calum out here with me,” he zings, howling as you jab your foot into his side.

You get up to take your mugs to the kitchen and when you come back, he’s still pensively looking at the fire. You sit beside him, spreading your blanket out over the both of you and he resumes the conversation, chuckling, “I was actually meant to spend most of the summer out here. Wanted to give myself kind of a test run, see how long I could make it. Until I met someone who made me rethink the pros of city life." He winks at you, reaching for your hand.

You laugh, squeezing his fingers. “That's sweet, Ash, but let’s not gloss over the fact you were also recording an album with your band that required you to be in the city too.”

He shakes his head vehemently. “Nah, my summer project was gonna be converting the attic into a studio so we could at least lay down demos here,” he shares. “That’s why Cal and I spent that week up here right before we met, we were taking pictures and planning.”

You sit all the way up, staring at him in disbelief. “So you’re saying you fully intended to spend the entire summer in the mountains, renovating your cabin so you could live and work out here and just because you happened to meet some random girl at a party, you scrapped the whole thing and stayed in the city just to hang out?”

He giggles, kissing your temple. “I wouldn’t put it like that - things just kept getting put off because I kept finding other ways to spend my time that interested me more.” Your shocked expression doesn’t waver and the grin he's wearing only seems to grow wider, dimples sinking even deeper into his cheeks.

You shake your head. “Can’t decide if that means you were crazy about me or just plain crazy.”

He shrugs, pulling you closer. “Why not both?”

In the morning you roll over and are pleased to discover your boyfriend still sleeping next to you. While the thought of snuggling into him and drifting back off to sleep is immensely appealing, you decide you have a better idea. You ease out of bed and down to the kitchen where you start preparing eggs, bacon and coffee for the both of you. You hum quietly to yourself as you cook, happy to be able to do something for Ashton since so much of this trip has been about him treating you.

The meal is cooling on the counter and you’re standing at the sink rinsing the last frying pan when you feel the fuzzy fabric of Ash’s robe brush your skin and his arms slink around you. A shiver runs down your body as his scruff tickles your skin as he buries his face in your neck and grumbles, “You’re right, it gets fuckin’ cold in that bed.”

“Sorry, babe,” you sing song, reaching behind you to scratch at his beard, which is filling in nicely. “Wanted breakfast to be a surprise.”

His deep, scratchy morning voice teases, “What if I wanted to eat somethin’ a little sweeter for breakfast?” and he nibbles along your neck while his hands run down your body before tugging at the drawstring on your sweatpants.

A naughty grin spreads across your face and you close your eyes for a beat to enjoy the work Ash’s tongue is doing behind your earlobe. You don’t know if you’ll ever get over the fact that he’s as hungry for you as you are for him. “Play your cards right and you might be able to have dessert for lunch.” You dry your hands with a dish towel and spin around in his hold to face him.

You fling your arms around his neck and he lets out something between a sleepy sigh and a growl when you move in for a kiss. “Love when we compromise,” he jokes against your lips. You communicate silently with your tongues for a moment before he pulls back to coo, “Merry Christmas Eve, baby.”

Breakfast is a bit rushed because Ashton wants to hurry outside to take pictures with you in the fresh snow before the weather gets too crazy. But he’s sure to give your thoughtful gesture its due, exaggeratedly moaning at every bite and offering you multiple hyperbolic compliments during the meal. You stand up to clear the table but he objects, dragging you to the bedroom to get dressed, promising he’ll clean it all himself once you come back inside from seeing the snow.

You know it’s pointless to push back when he’s this determined about something plus it is pretty cute how excited he is, so you humor him, quickly pulling on some leggings. By the time you’re slipping one of his hoodies over your head, he’s already headed out the sliding door to find the best place to set his phone up on the deck railing.

“You want me to grab your coat for you?” You poke your head out the door and ask, puzzled by his choice to go out in just his henley and jeans.

Ash shakes his head. “Nah, we won’t be out here long,” he insists, blissfully unconcerned by the temperature despite his breath instantly forming a frosty cloud in front of him as he speaks.

You skeptically watch him shuffle around the deck for a few more seconds before you pull the door shut behind you. “Babe, you don’t even have your boots tied! We’re not gonna get snowed out in the 30 seconds that’ll take, come on,” you laugh, tugging on his hand.

He lifts your hand to his mouth, pecking it softly, giggling as you yank it away when his cold nose brushes your skin. “I will, baby, I will,” he promises while making a beeline for the stairs leading off the side of the deck. “I just need to check…”

You can only guess what the last part of that sentence is because suddenly he’s disappeared from view with a surprised yelp and you hurry over to the edge of the deck, peering over just in time to see him roll onto his back, laughing hysterically. Judging by the amount of snow shaking out of his beard as he laughs, you make the assumption that he did a full face plant. Stifling your own laughter, you grab his phone off the rail and snap a handful of photos of the spectacle, which only makes him laugh even harder.

“Slippery?” You call down to him with a grin.

Ashton shrugs, laughter still rattling through him. “Slippery, missed a step, should’ve put my shoes on right.”

“Ah, the trifecta,” you tease, making your way down to him.

“Just trying to make this trip as memorable as possible for you,” he jokes. You start making your way down to him and you can’t help but feel soft about the quiet “Careful, baby” he warns you with as he watches you descend the stairs.

You stand over him and he cackles as you click a few more choice pictures. “Come on, baby, help me up,” he requests, casting a hilariously dramatic pout on his face to sell his plight.

“Just one more thing,” you reply before plopping yourself into the snow next to him.

He gasps your name as you settle in next to him, stretching your arms out to take selfies of the two of you in the snow. “Baby, no,” he protests, fussing over the way your sweatshirt has ridden up and exposed your skin to the cold. “We don’t need to both be shaking and wet.”

“Thought you preferred me that way,” you tease, pecking his cheek for one last picture. “Besides, I’m a loyal gal. Stand by your man and all that.”

“Or lay down in the snow by your man?”

“Exactly,” you laugh with him, happily letting him lead you into a sweet kiss.

Although you ostensibly came down to aid his fall, Ash easily gets back on his feet and extends a hand to you, pulling you up alongside him. Even though he’s notably more snow covered than you are, he still instinctively brings you in, rubbing his hands up and down your arms, trying in vain to warm you up.

“You’re basically a popsicle trying to warm up an ice cube, babe,” you laugh, teeth slightly chattering towards the end of your sentence.

He snorts, conceding defeat, and takes your hand, leading you past the deck - presumably to avoid the slippery stairs that led to this predicament - and around the house to the front door.

“Off,” he commands, tugging at your wet clothes as soon as you get inside. He quickly yanks his henley up over his shoulders, steps out of his pants and heads further into the house, moving too fast for you to get a flirty joke out about his advice. You strip down to your underwear and follow him into the living room, where he’s adjusting the fireplace, completely naked.

“I’m gonna selfishly ask you to be careful over there,” you giggle, annoyed that your voice sounds so shaky because of how cold you are.

Your obvious shivering catches his attention and he shifts his gaze over to you. He frowns, gesturing at your bra and panties. “Aww, baby… get those off too and come stand by the fire.” He grabs the flannel blanket off the couch and drapes it over your back, using it to pull your now naked body against his. “I’ll grab us some sweats and something hot to drink in a few, just wanna get us both situated.”

Ashton holds you tight against him, rubbing over your arms just like he did outside, his efforts much more effective with the aid of the roaring fire. Finally warm enough to drop your arms from around yourself, you slide them around his waist, instantly noting how cold and damp his back still is.

“Ash…” You pout, struggling with the blanket around you, fruitlessly trying to pull it to reach more of his body. You offer, “Let’s get another blanket, babe, get you covered too.”

“I’m fine, baby, want you warm first,” he insists, emphasizing his point by rubbing your arms faster.

“Ash, you’re not fine, you’re standing here with your entire ass out.”

“Thought you preferred me that way.”

You can’t help but crack up at both his joke and his stubbornness. You shake your head and sigh, “I love you.”

The words hang in the air and though you said them, you seem to hear them at the same time he does and the two of you freeze and look at each other, wide eyed. You’ve had that thought many times and even considered saying it out loud once or twice but you were never sure if the time was right. You can’t fathom why your brain decided that now, arguing over a blanket while you’re naked and freezing, was the right time for you to blurt it out, but what’s done is done.

It’s only been a moment but the silence feels endless and you’re dying to fill it. You laugh nervously and stammer, mind racing faster than your mouth can speak. “Well. Um. I… uh… I mean…”

Ashton appears to be speechless - an event you’ve only seen happen one or two times since you’ve known him - but he sees the panic on your face and he subtly shakes his head, snapping himself back to reality. He squeezes your hands and brings them to his lips to kiss them sweetly. “Baby… I love you… have for a while,” he says with a soft, reassuring voice and smile to match.

A wave of relief rushes over you, though you’re not quite sure why. You were sure Ash loved you - you feel it every day in the way he smiles at you, the way he cares for you, the way he kisses you - and you were confident your confession wasn’t a surprise to him either. But saying those words and hearing them repeated back still feels monumental. You find yourself overwhelmed and you toss your arms around his neck, pulling him into a passionate kiss. He immediately reciprocates, squeezing you tight to him, humming approvingly.

With your arms around each other, the blanket covering you inevitably falls to the ground but neither of you notice, warmed by the other’s embrace. It’s not until he pulls back to cradle your face that he deduces your trembling is likely due to the temperature instead of emotion.

He sympathetically sighs your name, pecking your lips once more before pulling back to grab more pillows and blankets from the couch, making a quick makeshift bed by the fire. “C’mere, baby,” he coos.

You join him on the ground, crawling under the blanket he’s holding open for you and settling onto your side, snuggling against his chest. He wraps the flannel material and then his arms around you, pressing silly wet smooches around your face before landing one on your lips, which you waste no time in deepening. You kiss lazily for a few moments, still processing everything that just happened but with each kiss, confirming the sentiments that you just expressed to each other.

Ash is the first to finally break away, breathing deep, stroking your hair back as he smiles at you. You smile back, scratching at his beard. “I love you,” you repeat, confidently this time. You laugh, “I’ve stopped myself from saying it so many times, I guess I just couldn’t keep it in anymore.”

He grins, sweetly replying, “I love you too… can’t say this is quite how I imagined telling you but…”

You interject with a giggle, “Oh? And how often would you imagine professing your love for me?”

“Hmm… just about every fucking day the past few months,” he shrugs, with a good natured smile, knowing you’re teasing him but insistent on being sincere. “Probably since you came to that first show and I saw how naturally, how easily you fit in with all the other parts of my life that I love.”

You pout, kissing him because you don’t know how else to respond. You murmur against his lips, “Well. Naked by the fire is pretty romantic. Weird context, but still.”

“Anywhere with you is a dream come true, baby.”

You sigh and bury your face in his chest, suddenly needing to feel engulfed by him. He wraps himself around you, warming you, loving you. He tugs your hair after a moment, raising your head to look at him. He doesn’t say the phrase again but you can see it as clear as the hazel in his eyes. He loves you. You place your hands on either side of his face and deliver a slow but quietly heated kiss to his lips.

Ashton’s touch begins to wander, appreciating the convenience of your already naked body. His hands untangle from your hair and move tantalizingly slow down your back to grip your ass before caressing over your sides to palm your breasts. He pinches and rolls your nipple between his fingers, leaving you moaning into his mouth; you return the favor, rubbing over his chest and he moans similarly. You feel his cock swelling against your stomach and you instantly ache for it.

“Ash,” you breathe, stroking him gently.

He nips at your jaw, groaning. “I know, baby,” he soothes, pulling your leg over his hip. “Need you too.” He runs his hand through your wetness and coats his cock with it, his fingers grazing yours, the both of you working to ready him for you. He grips your waist as you bring his tip to your entrance and gently push him inside.

“Ashton,” you sigh in relief, grabbing onto his shoulder as you continue to take him. He slowly starts rocking against you and you let out a series of low moans in sync with his movements. “Feels so good, babe… so good. I love it.”

“Love you,” he insists, grabbing your ass, trying to get you closer. “Nothing better than being in you, baby. ‘S where I belong.”

Mind and body both overwhelmed, a needy whimper pours from your throat. “Ash… need you like this all the time,” you pant, clinging to him while he picks up the pace. “Never felt like this with anyone. Not just this, I mean… I don’t think I’ve ever felt this much for someone.”

There’s so much more you could say but every thought in your mind has been replaced by a seemingly endless chant of Ashton, Ashton, Ashton. How well he’s filling you, how adoringly he’s looking at you, how desperately he’s rasping your name. His lips on your neck, his thumb on your clit, his fingers gripping your thigh as he raises your leg higher, trying to thrust into you deeper. It’s all too much and your nails drag down his back as your orgasm starts to overtake you.

“Yes, baby, yes,” he encourages, keeping his rhythm steady. “Let me feel it, love. That’s it.” You cry out and he groans alongside you as you squeeze around him. He holds you tight, fucking you through your climax and shortly after, you feel his back muscles tensing underneath your grip; before you have a chance to react, he’s whining your name and his cock is pulsing inside you. He buries his face in your neck as he cums and you soothingly stroke his hair as he relaxes against you. You lay in silence, holding each other in the afterglow, letting your pounding hearts speak to each other, saying all the words you can’t seem to find.

After a hot shower, a cuddly nap and a dinner that the two of you prepare together, you spend the evening drinking cocoa on the couch, the living room illuminated only by the fire and the Christmas tree lights. You trade stories of past holiday memories and share a few dreams for future ones, ones Ashton’s now more confident than ever that you'll be spending together.

The howling wind of the snowstorm wakes you early the next morning; another gust hits, rattling the bedroom’s sliding glass door. Your boyfriend stirs, mumbling something incoherent but clearly concerned.

“Think that’s the sound of a White Christmas, babe,” you chuckle sleepily, reaching over to rub at his bearded cheek.

“Ooh, that’ll be nice,” he mutters. He moves your hand to his lips, smooching it before turning you on your side so he can spoon you.

His warmth - physical and emotional - surrounds you as his arms envelop you and he mumbles sweet nothings against your hair. He shifts closer and the happy hum you’re emitting becomes a suggestive whine as you feel his morning wood nudging your ass. “This a stocking stuffer for me?” You joke, wiggling against him.

“Never too early for a little Christmas cheer,” he giggles, pressing into you more. His voice is heavy with sleep, his joyful laugh octaves lower than it usually is and it makes you feel like you’re on fire.

“Little is definitely not the word I’d use, babe,” you laugh, yawning through it as you turn over. You look at him, eyes tired but hungry. “You wanna?” You grip him through his flannel pajama pants, groaning quietly when you feel how rock hard he is. You love having him in the morning, it quite literally hits different.

“Baby,” he rasps, grabbing your wrist before you add any more pressure. “Always yes but also no, it’s so fuckin’ early… let’s sleep a little more. Soak in the tub together later.”

He leans in and kisses you with a heat that feels contrary to the plan he just laid out. You bite his lip as he pulls away. “Want you now, though,” you murmur, palming him again, just because you love the feeling of him hard, even if it wasn’t your doing.

Ash smiles knowingly. “My girl feeling needy this morning?” You nod with a playful pout that he plants a kiss directly onto. He turns you back onto your side and aligns his erection with your backside again. “Could just slip in while we lay here…”

“Yes,” you cut him off, not needing to hear any more details. He chuckles at your eagerness as he reaches for the bag on the nightstand and you hurriedly pull down your pajamas and underwear. The slick sounds of him spreading lube on his cock riles you up to the point that you look over your shoulder and half-jokingly state, “Babe, if I have to keep listening to that, we’re not gonna need lube anymore.”

He snorts, giving your ass swat before settling in behind you. “Need it that bad, huh?” You nod, proudly owning your desire. His tip nudges between your legs and you bite your lip in anticipation. His fingers dig into your hips as he slides in and the two of you moan together as he moves deeper and deeper until he’s fully inside you. You both adjust and get comfortable and once you stop squirming, he checks in, “How’s that feel, love?”

“Full,” you answer dreamily. He nuzzles the back of your neck, sliding his hands underneath your sweatshirt, one carressing your tummy, the other grabbing your breast. You let your head fall back against him and you close your eyes, focusing on the satisfying but grounding feeling of his cock inside you: thick, rigid, undeniable but undemanding. His warm hands on your body, his lips grazing your skin, how his breath syncs with yours as you relax in the stillness of each other. You’re almost caught up by how much emotion you suddenly feel so you just offer him a quiet, “Love you.”

“Love you, baby,” he answers, soft and slow, smiling as he feels you relax in his arms as you drift back to sleep.

You wake up alone a few hours later but before the disappointment has a chance to sink in, Ash is walking through the door with a steaming hot mug of coffee for you.

“Merry Christmas, love!” He greets you cheerily. He sets the cup on the nightstand next to your flowers and leans down to kiss you. “Didn’t want to wake you until I had the fire going out there, something warm for you to drink.”

“Sweet of you,” you pout, pulling him down for another kiss before you take a sip. “What should we make for breakfast?”

“Started some French toast already, thought I’d wait until you were up and around before I put the bacon on so we could eat it crispy,” he reports, beaming at you. You smile back, hearts surely shooting out of your eyes, he’s so cute when he’s excited.

The excitement continues when you join him in the kitchen a few minutes later, after you’re clothed and caffeinated. The Christmas music pouring from the stereo is easily drowned out by the gleeful sing-song of your name he lets out when he sees you approaching. You head for the cabinet, figuring you’ll set the table but Ashton steps away from the stove as soon as you’re within reach, pulling you into a bear hug and smothering your face with kisses.

“You’re touchy today,” you comment, ruffling his hair as he moves back to attend to the food.

“Says the woman who refused to go back to sleep without the aid of my dick,” he teases, reaching back over to give your ass a light smack.

You watch him carefully plate the food and carry it over to the table, where he’s already set your gifts for each other by your placemats. He comes back to the stove and you press your face into his back, placing a kiss between his shoulders. “This all smells delicious, babe. Everything you’ve done for me this week has been so sweet and special and I wanna make sure you know I appreciate it.”

He turns around and answers simply with a smile. “It’s a special time and I’m glad I get to spend it with you.”

You’re halfway through breakfast when you can tell he starts getting antsy about the gift exchange; you’re not sure if it’s nerves or impatience but to be honest, you’re surprised he held out even this long.

“Maybe three cups of coffee before noon wasn’t the best idea for today,” you crack, stilling his bouncing knee.

“Slow day for me,” he jokes, flashing you a sweet but apologetic smile.

You decide to cut him a break and you scarf down your last few bites so you can take the plates to the sink and quickly wipe the table down, ensuring sure your gifts are safe from any syrupy stickiness.

“Do you want to go first?” You offer, handing him the big box on the table addressed to him.

His eyes light up but he tries to play it cool, responding, “Whatever you’d like, baby.”

You sit back and giggle as he oohs and aahs over the wrapping before he tears into the package. He uncovers a plain brown shipping box and makes a big show of weighing it in his hands, shaking it around to see if he can detect what’s inside. He finally opens it, digging through the tissue paper to pull out a vinyl record with a photo of Los Angeles on the cover. He doesn’t recognize the picture so he turns the album over to investigate the track listing and your heart melts at the way his face softens when he sees the back cover art is a photo collage of your past six months together. Pictures he’s taken of you, you’ve taken of him, pictures of you two together, pictures of places you’ve been. His eyes drift to the track listing and he quickly recognizes the selections are of the same theme, highlighting moments of your time together.

“These songs!” He says in awe, reading it over. “How did you even pick these?”

“It was hard to whittle it down so that it all fit on one record. But there were certain songs I knew had to be on our soundtrack,” you answer with a grin. You get out of your seat and kneel next to his, pointing to some tracks. “These are ones I remember watching you rehearse endlessly in your basement over the summer. And these are from that playlist you were obsessed with the first few times we went out.”

“Oh yeah,” he laughs, remembering. He points to another song. “We slow danced to this while I was waiting to get called to the press line at Global Citizen.”

“Mmm hmm,” you confirm, touched he remembers. You run your finger down three titles. “These are from the records you found at that thrift shop we went to and you insisted I come back to your place to listen and that night was --”

“The first time we had sex,” he finishes the memory, smiling. “This first track… did we talk about that song the night we met?”

You nod happily. “Some other song was playing at the party and we couldn’t decide what it reminded us of. You figured it out and played it for me on your phone.”

“Wow,” Ashton sighs, staring at the song titles, snapshot memories of your relationship flashing in his mind. “This is incredible, baby. It’s so thoughtful… I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t need to say anything, then,” you say softly, sitting up to draw him into a tender kiss. “Music just sounds different… better ever since I met you.”

“Baby,” he breathes, quickly kissing you again. He clears his throat and you detect a slight break in his voice as he offers a soft “Thank you.”

You squeeze his leg and move back to your seat, overjoyed by his reaction. You’re curious to know what’s inside the pretty package with your name on it but you want to give him as much time as he needs to process all that he’s feeling right now, so you sip your coffee and watch as he continues to stare at the custom record.

He finally tears his eyes away from it, announcing, “We're gonna listen to this by the fire.” He scoots your gift closer to you, cooing, “Your turn, my love.”

The gift is so beautifully wrapped, you almost feel bad ripping it open but with Ash’s eager eyes encouraging you, you dive in. You toss the gift wrap aside and lift the lid on the box, finding two thick leather bound journals; as you begin to thumb through the first one, you see Ashton’s handwriting filling about a quarter of the pages and it dawns on you that this is what you’ve seen him writing in all week.

He sees your wheels turning and he begins to explain. “So there’s two parts to this: I wanted to tell you how I felt about some of my favorite memories with you so far. That’s what those pages are.” He leans in and flips to a few pages that are blank, save for some dates scrawled in the corner. “I thought maybe you could write down your thoughts and memories of those same days here. And then if you wanted to, you could share your thoughts about any other days you wanted to remember and give it back to me and I’d write about the days you picked and we could just go back and forth like that.”

“Ash, that’s so sweet,” you start, heart immediately warmed.

“And then,” he continues, picking up the second book. “This one is blank. I have one just like it. I was thinking when I leave for tour, we could write in them a little bit every day and then swap when we get to see each other, so we can kind of catch up.”

“Babe.”

He smiles wistfully. “I know we’ve still got a while. And I know we’ll talk on the phone and I know you’ll visit but… I’m gonna miss being a part of your everyday and you being a part of mine. And maybe this can give us a little of that back. And it’ll be nice to see how different our lives are from day to day but the emotions of missing each other and looking forward to seeing each other, that’s gonna be the same.”

“I think it’s a great idea and I love it and I love you,” you enthuse, setting the box on the table so you can get up and climb into his lap. You wrap your arms around him, hugging him tightly. “I can’t wait to read what you’ve already written.”

He giggles, “Wrapped it last night after you fell asleep but after this morning, I had to crack it back open and add a little more.”

You exaggeratedly drop your jaw in faux shock. “There’s saucy content in my romantic journal?”

He snorts, pinching your ass. “Baby, think about our relationship and tell me how many G-rated memories you think we’ve had.”

“Guess you’re right,” you laugh, stroking your chin, pretending to think. “God, why are you such a slut for me?” He jabs your side as you dramatically try to escape his hold, yelping until he silences your protests with a soft kiss.

Hours later, after the two of you have finally taken successful pictures in the snow, cooked another simple but delicious dinner together and taken that bath he promised you hours ago, you find yourself on the couch once again with a mug of cocoa, watching Ash prod at the fire. He smiles at you before he moves over to the stereo to flip over the record you made him, pulling his cardigan tight around his broad chest.

“It got chilly tonight,” he comments as he shuffles into the kitchen to grab his mug out of the microwave.

You hold your blanket open for him in response and he settles in next to you, tucking the both of you in. You rest your head on his shoulder, watching the fire, listening to the music you fell in love to; though the temperature outside is freezing, you don’t think you’ve ever felt so warm.

The record spins the next song and your mind travels back to Ashton’s car the night of your first kiss. A thought enters your mind and you can’t help but share.

“Do you ever think about what you’d be doing right now if we hadn’t gotten together?”

He strokes your hair tenderly as he considers his response. “I try to go out of my way not to think of scenarios where I’m not with you,” he admits.

“I mean, it’s not my favorite topic either but it crosses my mind sometimes,” you shrug. “I probably would’ve moved back home over the summer. Lockdown was just so hard… I got so lonely and discouraged… felt like I was in freefall. I didn’t really have anything to keep me here, to ground me until I met you.”

He kisses your neck with a tenderness that suggests he believes he can retroactively heal the heartache you felt before he knew you. “I don’t really know where I’d be right now… I’d be trying my best. Like I was before I met you. And my life would have joy, I’d make sure of that. But the kind of peace I feel knowing you, the happiness that comes from my soul being recognized by yours every day that we’re together… I can’t imagine being fulfilled like that without you with me.”

His words hit you like a ton of bricks and you reach for his hand, squeezing it tight as if it’s the only anchor you have to keep you from drowning under the weight of his sentiment. “I wish I could think of a better word to describe it… ‘magical’ seems so trivial. But that’s what it feels like,” you muse. “How many things had to go right and wrong, how many choices we had to make and not make, all for our lives to line up perfectly so that we would meet and end up here? How can that not be magic?”

“I was meant to be on tour this summer,” he says quietly.

“What if I’d moved to LA a year earlier? A year later? Made different friends, friends that didn’t know you?”

“If our album had come out in 2019, like we wanted it to, we probably would’ve been on break when lockdown hit… I might’ve been stuck in Sydney this whole time.”

“Even something as simple as: what if one of us had skipped going to that party? I was still getting used to being social again, I almost didn’t go, I was so nervous.”

“Cal and I had talked about going to the desert that weekend,” he remembers. “At the very last minute, he decided he’d rather wait a week. Weather or something. I was only at that party because I went down my contact list texting around to see who wanted to hang out… I was having a rough time and I didn’t want to be alone, I needed to be out of the house.”

You lift your head to look at him. “You never told me that.”

“Didn’t seem important until now. What if someone else had replied first? What if I’d gotten caught in traffic and got there later? You were on your way out when we introduced ourselves.”

You grin at the memory of that night. “What if you hadn’t been wearing an insane looking pair of pants that made me take notice and stop to ask around about you?”

“What if you hadn’t been the most beautiful human I’d ever seen and I hadn’t decided I needed to know you?”

“Ashton.”

“Listen, I’m just recalling that night from my personal perspective here,” he teases, giving you a peck on the cheek.

You snort, getting back to your point. “Any of those things… if anything had been different, everything could’ve been different.”

“Glad it’s not.”

“Me too.”

Ashton sighs, slinging his arm around you, pulling you into his chest. “Don’t know if we thank the universe or the gods or our own intuition but it seems to me that things happened the way they did because we were meant to have this time together.”

“I agree.”

“All the shit that we had to go through… I’d say it was worth it to get here.”

“I agree.”

“I love you.”

“I agree.”

“Hey!” He protests.

You giggle, snuggling into him closer. “I love you too.”

--------------------------------------

Not entirely sure what my plans are re: continuing to use a taglist (would love to know your thoughts on that as well tbh) so keep your eyes open for future updates on that!

@hoodharlow @mashtonasfuck @pxrxmoore @bxcketbarnes @talkfastromance4 @camelliastreet @itjustkindahappenedreally @saywhatnow07 @mymindwide @suchalonelysunflower @findingliam-o @fedorable-killjoys @trix-arent-for-kids @olivia-foster-irwin @calmsweetcreature @onthecliffside-mgc @feliznavidaddycal @himbohood @maggiesupertramp @karajaynetoday @ashtonangst @sunshineeashton @aladyofalbion @youngblood199456 @calumrose @irwindoll @in-superbloom @2fangirl4u @highstwildflower @bport76 @chamaleonsoul

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morkofday · 2 months

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Hey OP just wanted to say your WinTeam + 5 Stages of Love is a beautiful piece of graphic design and though it's not my fandom I wish you'd gotten way more reblogs. It's very very pretty.

thank you for this anon ;; it means a lot! especially when you're not part of the fandom. i always feel like that's a bit special, when i can move someone's heart when they don't even know the source material. i'm so honored i can have that impact on you ♥

#that's how tumblr is isn't it we beg for reblogs #ok jk but it is what it is sigh #i appreciate this ask so much tho #i rarely get feedback outside of the tags i see ;;#so thanks for taking a moment to send this to me ♥#i hope you're having a wonderful day if you see this!!

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deadtower · 5 months

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hi pls let me know what u think of my little pokemon project

#pokemon #giratina #volo #gotta be real this is some of the best writing ive done in a while #any feedback at al would be much appreciated #ok to reblog /#god. i wish i had the mental energy to make banners for these like i used to

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onlyswan · 9 months

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summary: in which jungkook can’t sleep, and he can’t stop kissing you either.

> fluff, suggestive / word count: 2.6k

> content/warnings: alexa play seven by jungkook! mentions of s^x, lots and lots of cutie kisses :( they’re in that afterglow <3 oc’s chest is his pillow :(

> in which masterlist!

note: hi hi. here’s ur slice of pure self indulgent fluff 🍰 i just had to write abt this jk :P there’s a reference to in which you always get what you want and jungkook is dying to kiss you 🥹 reblogs & feedback are vv appreciated. i’d love to hear ur thoughts so feel free to scream or laugh or cry <3

—

a fleeting white light passes through your closed eyelids, nearly blinding, as you hear the familiar shutter of your boyfriend’s polaroid camera.

“jungkook,” you whimper weakly due to the sudden disturbance, burying your face on the soft pillows while pushing the camera away.

“shit, shit- sorry, baby-” he winces, guilty of disrupting your journey to slumber, as he scrambles to fix his mistake. “forgot to turn off the flash.”

he places the polaroid face down on the space behind him to give it the time to develop the photo he had taken. much to your relief, the bedroom falls silent once more except for the quiet humming and breathing of the airconditioner. you return to properly laying your head on the pillow, taking a small gasp of oxygen, and jungkook smiles because of how adorable you are for still refusing to open your eyes.

“can i take more pictures?”

“did you turn it off?” you whisper as you stretch your legs to find a more comfortable position, unwittingly pulling down the comforter and exposing your nakedness to the cool air. this gives rise to goosebumps on your skin, causing you to shiver, but your boyfriend is quick to your rescue. he catches the hem before it could slide past your skimpy shorts.

“i did.”

a chaste kiss is planted on your shoulder before it is returned underneath the warmth of soft layers of cotton and fabric.

you sigh, melting back into relaxation. “okay.”

he re-anchors his elbow into the mattress, resting his head on his palm to admire the majestic view of you. jungkook likes this a lot, he lives for it— lying on the bed face-to-face with his sated lover, spending the rest of the night feeling like his heart is not a big enough vessel to hold all the love he has for you. the lights he is yet to turn off have splashed the dark room with a red glow that engulfs your figure as well, escalating his heartbeat, so hypnotic and tantalizing, he finds himself breathing heavier and heavier behind the viewfinder, or maybe he has stopped breathing at all. the shutter briefly fills the silence.

this is… the arch of your back is burned in his mind and he swears he still tastes you on his tongue, but seeing you like this feels so different.

he was consumed by his pleasure and yours just half an hour ago, admittedly almost blinded by his own sweat dripping from his forehead because he simply couldn’t stop wanting more of you, giving himself to you. you weren’t exactly innocent either, with your provocative touches and coquettish smiles, whispering lewd words that was gasoline to the lust flaring up inside of him. he revels in seeing that you’re just as desperate for it as he is, if not more, purely from the way you beseech him with your eyes mirroring stained glass windows. he knows you love it when he fucks you so good it brings you to tears, welcoming the delightful intensity of his nature, and that you were also trying to tire him out so he’d finally feel sleepy, but holy shit, looking at you right now, he wants nothing more but to hold you with utmost gentleness.

wildly concentrated with his bottom lip tucked in between his teeth, he brushes away the hair that fell on your face before capturing another exquisite memory to be burned into film.

jungkook is greedy when it comes to you.

a disgruntled whine slips from your mouth when the pillow underneath your head is replaced by his thick arm, which is then rudely cut off by his lips crashing on yours.

clearly, you’ve grown too comfortable in this relationship.

“i love you.” he drunkenly mutters, instantly going for another kiss and barely finishing his another- “i love you.” before he’s kissing you again.

“babe-” you chuckle then gasp, holding on to his wrist as his tattooed hand loosely wraps around your neck.

“i love you. i love you, i love y- i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you.” he repeats himself over and over, the volume of his voice gradually getting quieter as he runs out of breath, until his tongue becomes tied. grounded by the feeling of your steady pulse beneath his thumb, he silences himself by tenderly kissing you, soft lips molding with yours for a wordless declaration of devotion this time around.

pure static— there are no thoughts running in your head. your limbs feel numb but tingly. you feel like you’re floating- no, you’re falling. the bed has turned into an abyss and you’re falling endlessly and jungkook holding you close is the only thing that makes sense. you might have to consider this true heaven, nothingness with your everything, when the whole world is lights-out and quiet that it feels like time has been suspended, and the only way to keep track of it is through each pump of your heart.

at last, your eyelids slowly flutter open as he pulls away, and he greets you with that boyish grin. “pretty.”

his hand on your neck moves to stroke your face lovingly, eyes glimmering with various emotions as they wander your features.

“____ is so, so pretty.”

“hm, really?” you hum sleepily, leaning closer to his touch. “thanks to you.”

“me?” his doe eyes widen in confusion.

“you know, for the afterglow. i feel nice.” you giggle brightly at your own half-joke, positively out of your goddamn mind as you hide your warm face on his shoulder.

“ahhh- ah!”

enlightenment then dawns on your boyfriend.

his giggles blend in with yours for a harmony that strikes the same joy as the sound of wind chimes on a windy day.

jungkook tries not to appear too cocky about the compliment, but consequences be damned, he would die satisfying his lover.

“oh yeah, baby? do you now?” there’s a self-satisfied smirk plastered on his face when you take a peek at him, which then morphs into a grin when your eyes meet. “i feel nice, too.”

“nice?” your voice comes out delicate, droopy eyes asking him for confirmation.

“nice.”

he feels a tug at his heartstrings.

“you know what? fucking great… i could never have enough of you.”

it becomes silent for a while. his tattooed hand slides under the comforter, letting his fingers skim across the side of your waist, feather-light touches on your bare skin before he’s pulling you closer to his body.

“i… i don’t doubt that feelings like this can only grow as time goes on but… it’s still amazing that when i think about it, even until now, all the time, i want to be with you.”

he involuntarily breathes out a shaky sigh, ears going red as they do when he’s expressing sincerity from the deepest parts of his soul.

“really, how do you do this…? what is this magic? why- why do i like you so much? i mean, i know why! of course! but, wow!” he squeezes his eyes shut to express his disbelief, clicking his head to the side. “it’s possible for it to be this much? do you get what i’m saying? i just have thoughts like that— love is so fascinating.”

you barely process his words with your brain still in a haze of bliss, but it’s funny, hearing these questions from the same man who has the entire world madly obsessed with him.

oh, this actually sounds familiar. he’s getting all sentimental and philosophical. again. and he’s not drunk. were you that good tonight?

“i won’t give away my secrets just like that. what if you use them on someone else?” you tease him, rubbing your tired eyes and shaking your head as you giggle.

you receive a dirty look from him, clearly offended and uninterested in the thought of putting in the hard effort to impress someone that isn’t you.

“aish, stop talking! i don’t like hearing you talk in that way.”

“then what else am i supposed to do? you’re the one who woke me up.” you retort in annoyance.

but you honestly don’t think there’s any secret to tell. jungkook is in love with you. plain and simple.

“you’re right, i’m sorry. go back to sleep if you want to.”

he dips down to plant gentle pecks on your shoulder, going down on a trail to your neck, and you unconsciously tilt your head to his convenience because he’s bringing the butterflies in your stomach back to life. it feels good, everything he does always feels good.

“you’re seriously not done?” you mumble against his lips, unfaltering with the kisses as if he would run out of them any minute now.

he stubbornly answers with a “no!” as his lips ghost over your cheek.

if only bam was here, jungkook would eventually leave you alone to rest. he would pester him with his late-night burst of affection instead while talking shit about you to your child because you dodged his kiss in your sleep.

“babe, you’re supposed to sleep. you have work later.”

“no, i don’t want to sleep. i… i want to kiss you- baby.” he protests as he continues to pepper your face with kisses, giving your body a particularly tight squeeze when he searches for your lips again.

you blink at him in confusion when he suddenly sends you a look of irritation, eyebrows furrowed and eyes glaring.

“you haven’t even said ‘i love you’ back yet.”

“oh, i haven’t?” you wince innocently. “sorry. i love you.”

but he should be the one apologizing to you, since it’s his fault that you still can’t think straight, or walk for that matter.

you pat around the mattress behind his back until you stumble upon the camera, and it’s jungkook’s turn to be your beloved muse. you scoot away until the lens manage to capture him down to his shirtless abdomen. you watch him in complete awe behind the viewfinder. he squints at you, raising his eyebrows flirtatiously, and he smirks when you chuckle in amusement.

“ah wait- take this! take this! you have to take a good one, got it? i worked so hard on them yesterday!” he eagerly voices out a special demand.

he shuffles to flex his arm infront of the camera, showing off his well-defined triceps and biceps while releasing rich, throaty grunts. totally unnecessary, but so achingly jungkook.

your boyfriend is outrageously, ridiculously sexy— he’s still wearing that stupid black headband he hastily put on in the middle of sex because he got pissed off at his hair and he needed it out of the way so he could ‘properly see his love’s beautiful body.’

you roll your eyes inside your head.

what a fucking tease.

nonetheless, you acquiesce.

the flash goes off.

and another polaroid is crafted into existence that you selfishly want to keep for your eyes only.

“baby, let me see.”

“it’s mine!” you scrunch your nose with a childlike charm, hiding the polaroid behind your back.

he chuckles, hopelessly endeared by you.

“yes, i’m yours.” he coos in response.

and your unguarded heart is once again swept away by the taste of his tongue. the camera becomes an abandoned item. your fingers daintily pushes off his headband in favor of freely tangling them with his silky hair, and it also ends up getting lost somewhere in the sheets as his sweet kisses lull you in a false sense of security… because out of nowhere, that same blazing light burns through your closed eyes for the second time tonight.

jungkook playfully waves the polaroid infront of your face, and his toothy grin is met by your unimpressed expression.

“this is mine!”

he has been waiting to jump into this type of opportunity, to orchestrate a romantic moment to be stolen in film— you can tell by the sparkles in his eyes. reminiscent of that one late night in a tiny photobooth where your younger and clueless selves were cramped in, this is what you and his hyungs often talk about, how much you share the same fondness for the fact that jungkook hasn’t changed at all.

“just how many pictures of you kissing me do you need?” you ask him lightheartedly.

he juts out his bottom lip sullenly, and a few beats pass before he forms an answer. “i always need more for when i miss you.”

you copy his frown. “then what about me when i’m missing you too?”

“hmmm… i want you to always remember me like this, baby.” he melodramatically declares as he picks up the one and only polaroid you’ve taken of him tonight. “can you see my abs too…? oh- it’s not showing yet.”

he looks back at you shyly with a laugh, and he places it back down to let it continue developing.

“i’ll look later. i can’t even keep my eyes open anymore. ‘m so tired.” you sadly sniffle to gain his pity, fluttering your damp eyelashes at him. “let’s go to sleep, please?”

jungkook doesn’t find it in himself to articulate a consolation or protest, not when you’re tugging him down to coax him into laying his head on your chest.

“heaven.” he moans, overcome by contentment.

he adjusts himself a bit to be more comfortable before dragging the comforter further upwards to provide warmth for the two of you, all the while refusing to remove his face nuzzled up against you.

“why are you always like this? can you even breathe?” you chuckle with your eyes closed.

“i love your boobs.” his honest reply comes out muffled, cute for some reason, along with his satisfied hums prompted by your nails lightly scratching his scalp.

“i know.”

he turns his head to the side to look up at you, and he carries on to speak with his cheek squished against you. “i really, really mean it.”

“yes, baby. i believe you.”

a minute of silence passes. the ecstasy still flooding your veins becomes a stepping stone in the pond towards your dreamland, where all is either fantastically perfect or horrifically fucked up.

but then you feel sloppy kisses being deliberately scattered in the middle of your chest, leading down to your stomach, and you get rudely knocked over into the cold, clear waters.

yes, plea- oh no, no, no, no.

“jungkook, baby, stop. i can’t go another round.” you whine pathetically, being driven closer to the urge to burst into tears.

“AH! o-ow- ouch- baby, wha- i swear, i wasn’t even planning on it!” he loudly exclaims in surprise when you harshly pull him away by his hair.

“still…” your voice cracks. “you know i’ll get turned on!”

his chuckles are infuriatingly raspy and of no help at all, ego inflating upon hearing your response and the frustration obviously laced with it.

“okay, okay! i’m sorry! i’ll behave now!”

thank god.

he assumes his previous position, the place that he deems to be the warmest and the coziest. as he wraps his arms around your waist, your fist relaxes into an open palm that cradles the back of his head.

“____?” he mumbles, finally feeling the tiredness seep into his sore muscles now that he’s lying motionless.

“hmm?”

“let’s eat dinner outside after work.”

“…meat?”

“and beer!” he adds, brimming with excitement, and he salivates as he can almost taste them in his mouth already. they are his favorite, after all.

“i’ll come pick you up then.” you drop a kiss on his forehead, and he sighs happily. “but go to sleep or else i’ll kick you out of the bedroom again.”

his sweet embrace becomes an iron grip.

cold and alone, he swears those were some of the worst three hours of his life.

he squeaks in defeat. “goodnight, baby.”

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taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

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#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you

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