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sprenthecreator · 2 months ago

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IMPURITIES EP. 3 | The Poison

Male reader x Kazuha

word count: 11.8k

tags: teasing (a lot), brat zuha with daddy kink is always the best zuha

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Thank goodness the tour was over, and you hadn't died in the process.

To your surprise, all the girls behaved like civilized and responsible people during the remaining weeks. Even Kazuha, who sometimes took it upon herself to give you headaches, had stayed out of the way and hadn't caused any problems with her typical bratish behavior. Eunchae was almost never a thorn in your side; she was an angel 90% of the time. But you were still grateful that she hadn't let the other 10% win.

On the other hand, Chaewon had paid you occasional visits at night to sleep with you, without causing a fuss or being too annoying. Yunjin was very much in her element; she had spent all those days training her vocal skills and composing songs in her room. The one who was arguably giving you the hardest time was, ironically, the oldest of the five. Sakura wasn't lying when she said you'd won over a hungry Yokai, as she made you come to her room at least every other day so you could fuck her in every possible hole. Sometimes you weren't very willing, whether due to mental exhaustion or stress, but you preferred that to letting her become unbearable.

When you returned to Korea, the air was relieved knowing that everyone would be able to get a break. The next comeback cycle was approaching, but you would have two and a half weeks of vacation before then. Neither you nor the girls had travel plans during that time, so you were going to continue living together in the house for a while.

Because yes, you lived together in one house.

During the first year, it wasn't like that. They lived in their usual dorm, and you lived in your apartment ten minutes away. But starting at a certain point in 2023, when Antifragile had already been a global success, the company decided to invest in a big house on the outskirts of the city for the six of you to live there. The explanation had been that this would streamline the work process and cut logistics costs. Although you felt there were loopholes in that excuse.

The girls weren't entirely happy at first, and to be honest, neither were you. Just like you, they valued the privacy of a shared dormitory all to themselves, and by now living with you, they thought they'd be watched at all times. But luckily for them, you weren't a snitch or a weirdo. The solution you implemented was simple: the first floor for you, and the second for them. On your floor, you'd have everything you needed, and if you needed to go upstairs, you'd do so with full notice. That ended up convincing them.

A year later, complaints about daily living were few and far between. They argued more often with each other than they did with you. That wasn't your problem anymore, so you didn't interfere; you simply listened to the shouting from the comfort of your floor. Occasionally, you had to intervene from the stairs to get them to shut up, but generally speaking, you were comfortable living together.

Now, having to cook for five people was a real pain, but you were lucky that Yunjin loved cooking, and she often helped you when she wasn't busy with her own things. Waking them up was also a pain sometimes, since you couldn't get into their rooms using the traditional method. No, you had to blow up Chaewon's phone with calls, and often the idiot left it on vibrate, in which case you had to turn to Sakura to do the job.

But despite the problems, you could safely say that the best time of your life had begun thanks to that, and it had been the sowing of a harvest of memories of all kinds that you treasured in your heart. There was no way you would regret it. Not for a single second.

Even less so recently, when your relationship with three of the girls had taken on a completely new dimension that promised interesting things.

None of them had commented on it, but you knew what they were thinking. The tension was palpable. It was only a matter of time before you received something. Whether it was a visit to your room, a photo, a message, a glance. Anything. And you weren't crazy to think that: days ago, when you were still in the US, Chaewon had let you know that you would receive clues. That you shouldn't expect them to come directly and ask you explicitly and that you should also do your part. You didn't entirely know how you would do that, but in time your mind would open up.

That was another thing. You still weren't entirely sure how to feel about being... whatever you were to them now. It felt wrong. You certainly weren't a prude, and you were crazy about women—especially those women. But it didn't quite feel right. Maybe it was just a matter of time before you got used to it, and you honestly hoped so, because if you dared to waste this opportunity life had handed you on a silver platter, you'd never forgive yourself.

Still, it was a situation that had to be handled with caution, because it was extremely easy for it to spiral out of control. Whether it was due to unrespected boundaries or worse: unintentionally generated feelings. You were very careful about that, of course. But you couldn't control how any of the girls felt, and that made you anxious.

Chaewon was the one you were most careful with, because to be honest, you felt a lot of chemistry with her. A little too much, maybe. And consequently, your treatment of her was... slightly different. Not too different to avoid raising suspicions, but you cut short every little intimate moment you two had after fucking with the classic excuse that you had work to do.

Although if you thought about it, you'd already let her sleep with you more than once during the tour, and a couple of times you weren't even intimate...

You were going to play dumb, yeah.

Yunjin had been the first to desecrate—as far as you knew—the roof you lived under, just a day after you'd settled back there after arriving in Korea. It happened at night, when, after she'd showered and while the other girls were sleeping, she caught you watching Breaking Bad at two in the morning in the living room, wrapped in only a stupidly short towel that barely covered anything.

Aside from that, neither Chaewon nor Sakura made a move. But not for any specific reason; most likely they just didn't feel like it. They continued to behave normally.

But Kazuha was acting strange.

Spending so much time with her over the past year helped you notice the unusual patterns of behavior. Something didn't add up. Mostly, it was small details that led you to think that. Ways of greeting you in the morning, discreet glances for no apparent reason, sudden mood swings when you interacted with her, and even leaving out of nowhere while you were all chatting together. As if being around you made her nervous.

She knew something, you were sure.

They were girls, and they spent a lot of time together, so surely one of the three had told her about their experiences with you. Everything pointed to Sakura, since she was the one she spent the most time with during those days. That was dangerous. If Chaewon or Yunjin had told her, you knew they would have been subtle about it, not sharing too much information or details. But Kura was a different breed. That girl didn't mince words, and you feared she'd have given Kazuha a wealth of details about what you and her were up to. That included how you fucked, where, when, and you were sure she'd even given her details about how big your...

Yeah, bad business. Not only because she knew, which was already a problem. But because you feared retaliation.

Kazuha might have seemed like a chill, carefree girl, with a typical joking attitude. But behind that innocent mask, you knew she was hiding a malevolent being with a meticulous way of acting. She was just the kind of woman who could tell you the best joke in the world and two hours later sell you out to some drug cartel in exchange for an Overwatch skin. A somewhat exaggerated analogy, but one that fit perfectly with her deceitful nature.

Time soon proved you right.

That day you woke up early in the morning, as usual. Sunlight was beginning to bathe the interior patio, forcing you to open your eyes since it was right in front of you behind the glass wall. After rubbing your eyes and gathering your willpower, you got up from the sofa bed you were sleeping on and walked, with the cold wooden floor beneath your feet, to the bathroom to brush your face and brush your teeth.

After finishing your basic personal hygiene routine, you left the bathroom and turned up the air conditioning since you were freezing. Then you walked to the other side of the house. In the kitchen, you went to the far right of the counter behind the island and turned on the espresso machine to let it warm up. While waiting, you sat in a chair at the dining table to quickly check your email and social media once you were sure you didn't have anything important to do.

That time of day was your favorite. Peaceful. Silent. With nothing but the distant sound of birds perching in the nearby trees. In your profession, those moments were to be cherished for how rare they were, and you let absolutely nothing disturb you during them. Not while any of the brats...

Movement to your left, just at the bottom of the stairs.

"Good morning, manager-nim," Zuha said, passing behind you to go to the refrigerator. You followed her with your eyes, your brow furrowed in confusion but also in disbelief. She was wearing only a white T-shirt that barely covered her bottom, and she was barefoot.

"What the hell are you doing up at this hour, Nakamura?" was the first thing that escaped your mouth. "Especially you."

"What time is it?" Zuha asked, her hand on the refrigerator handle. You weren't surprised at how beautiful she still looked without makeup and just waking up.

"7 in the morning."

"Oh, my biological clock must have gotten messed up," she shrugged and opened the refrigerator door, disappearing behind it. Seconds later, she closed it, a small carton of strawberry milk in her other hand. "You don't mind a little morning company, do you?"

Your gaze fell as Kazuha leaned against the refrigerator and put one leg in front of the other, pressing her thighs together and barely revealing her crotch. You quickly looked away.

"I don't care," you admitted, shaking your head. You looked back down at your phone, but a few seconds later, you looked back at her. "Are you just going to stand there or what?"

"Does it bother you?"

You inhaled a deep breath and let it out with your eyes closed.

"No, Kazuha, it doesn't bother me."

"Great."

The ten minutes you usually let the espresso machine heat up had already passed, so you stood up and went to check if it was ready. Once you confirmed it, the next step was to grind the coffee beans, but you kept them in a cupboard right above the refrigerator. You made a move to get it, but Kazuha was in the way.

"Oh, do you need anything?" Zuha asked, sipping the strawberry milk carton through the straw.

"Yes, the coffee beans," you pointed. "Please move aside."

"I'll get it for you! Hold this for a second."

Zuha held the small carton against your chest for you to take and looked up at the cupboard, then stood on her tiptoes, raising her arms, and, consequently, pushing her shirt up enough so you could clearly see her ass and cheeky black panties.

"These here?" Zuha asked, taking the bag. She didn't seem to notice you were staring at her beautiful rear end, and if she did, she didn't care in the least.

"Uh... yeah."

Zuha took them and stood back on her heels. She then took the milk carton from you and handed you the coffee beans. Her expression indicated that she was completely pretending that what happened a second ago hadn't happened. The air inside the house was cold, it was impossible for her not to have noticed.

It was foul play, and at your distinct disadvantage, since you couldn't do the same.

"Thanks," you simply said, and tried to focus on your damn espresso, which was all you'd wanted since you woke up.

As you ground approximately 15 grams of coffee, Zuha disappeared from your peripheral vision. You heard her take steps behind you, and all you heard were her sipping on the straw. It was the typical moment when a lion played dumb seconds before snapping its jaws at its prey.

After grinding the coffee, you picked up the portafilter, washed it, and dried it thoroughly with a dry cloth before adding the ground coffee. Then you picked up the tamper and applied gentle pressure to level the coffee inside the filter. Finally, you prepared to slide the portafilter into the machine.

"Manager-nim, why is Chaewonie sleeping with you lately?" Zuha asked from behind you.

The question caught you off guard, and since your brain wasn't prepared to handle both tasks at the same time, you dropped the portafilter, creating a mess of ground coffee on the counter and the floor beneath your feet.

"Fucking shit!" you cursed, slamming the counter so hard that the side of your fist ached.

"Oh my god! I'm sorry!" Zuha said. Her shock didn't seem to be faked.

"It’s okay, it wasn't your fault."

Yes, it was. But you weren't going to tell her that.

With your teeth clenched in anger, you went to the left, toward the small utility room where you kept the cleaning supplies.

"Let me help you!" Zuha said, hopping off the counter she was sitting on just as you turned the doorknob.

Zuha reached you, and with her back to you, squeezed into the narrow space between you and the door. As she did so, she deliberately pushed her hips back and rubbed her ass against your bulge to enter the room. You froze, staring into space as she grabbed a dustpan and broom.

"Zuha, you don't need to..."

"Bullshit!" Zuha interrupted you, repeating the same process, only this time she stood still for a moment while her ass pressed against your bulge. She looked at you over her shoulder. "Let me help you, grump!"

Zuha stepped away and went to sweep up the coffee grounds you'd dropped, leaving you in a state of horniness that you suppressed as much as possible. But she played another damn trick. For some reason, she found it necessary to bend over to pick up who knows what damn thing from the floor, consequently giving you a glimpse of her panties, specifically, her slit from behind. She stayed in that position for a few seconds, making sure you saw as much of her cameltoe as possible before standing up.

"Nakamura, what the fuck are you doing?" you asked, feeling your cock harden beneath your boxers. You hid it with your left fist, gripping your forearm with your other hand.

"Huh?" Zuha turned to you, wiping the counter with a kitchen towel. "Helping you. Can't you see or what?"

"That's not what I meant."

"Then I have no idea what you're talking about, manager-nim," Zuha shook her head, shrugging.

Damn brat. Why the hell was she doing that? It was now certain that she knew everything. But why tease you like that? Was she resentful in some way? Or did she just like to play with her prey like cats do? It could very well have been a mix of both, which made it twice as terrifying since you didn't know how far she was going to take it before actually dropping the bombshell.

A damn mouse being stalked by a snake. Great.

"Forget it," you sighed, and went to help her with the mess you'd made because of her.

About five minutes later, the floor and counter were as clean as ever. Kazuha carried the broom and dustpan back to the utility room and came back with you as you repeated the same process with the coffee beans, her lower back resting on the edge of the counter to your left. Her gaze was attentive to everything you did, like a curious cat.

"Are you going to learn how to make espresso for the girls or what?" you asked as you started the extraction.

"No, it's just fun to watch," Zuha replied. "It's... relaxing."

"Sure," you nodded, looking up at her as you dusted off your hands. "Are you going to tell me the real reason you got up at this hour, or will you keep me guessing all day?"

"I already told you: my biological clock must have been messed up. I don't know."

You chuckled.

"If I hadn't known you for three years, maybe I'd believe you, Nakamura."

"Are you calling me a liar?" Kazuha raised her eyebrows.

"Yes."

"That's very rude of you, manager-nim," she crossed her arms and pouted. "But I think you're being a bit hypocritical."

"Oh yeah? And why?"

"Remember when I asked you in Chicago why Chaewonie hadn't woken up in her bed, and you told me it was because she had plans with Kura that night?" Zuha pushed back from the counter and faced you, staring into your eyes. "Guess what? Kura-chan said Chaewonie never went to her room that night. Who lied to me?"

Shit. She'd put you between a rock and a hard place. Kura was a damn snitch.

"She must have been playing a trick on you or something," you replied. "I'm pretty sure I saw them together that night."

"Hypocrite," Zuha snapped.

"I'm not lying to you, Nakamura."

"You are," Zuha took a step forward without taking her eyes off you, entering your personal bubble. "And the more you do it, the deeper you dig your own grave."

"Kazuha, I swear I don't know what you're talking about. She was..."

"You're fucking her too, manager-nim?" Zuha blurted out, leaving you hanging. "I know you did it with Sakura. She told me everything. So..." she closed the distance between your bodies, pressing hers against your side and her thigh against your crotch. Her shirt lifted again, and you caught a glimpse of her left buttock. "Are you going to tell me the truth, or are you going to make this more complicated for yourself?"

It took a tremendous amount of willpower not to touch her, as her toned body felt way too good against yours. Her hot breath against your neck didn't help either.

"So what if I did?" you asked, trying your best not to look at her as Kazuha rubbed her thigh between your legs. "Are you going to tell PD Nim everything or something?"

"No way. I'm not a snitch," Zuha retorted. "Come on, stop being a damn liar and speak."

As much as you wanted to, her damn thigh was being a severe distraction, keeping your thoughts from organizing. Kazuha knew it, and that's why, apart from her thigh, she reached down to grab your already hard cock and gently squeezed it to short-circuit you.

"Did the cat eat her tongue, manager-nim?" Zuha murmured near your ear, tightening her fingers around the outline of your cock through your sweatpants.

"Shit," you gasped, closing your eyes as you pressed your lips together. "Nakamura, stop playing..."

"I'm not playing," Zuha retorted, reaching inside your sweatpants and boxers for your cock. "You wish I was playing."

How easy it would be to lose your temper, grab her by the waist, and fuck her from behind against one of those countertops. For God's sake, you were going to go crazy.

"Yes, Nakamura, I fucked Chaewon," you managed to say, but very quietly as Kazuha massaged your cock beneath her fingers.

"Excuse me?" Zuha brought her ear to your mouth, then pulled your cock out of your sweatpants and masturbated you with her five fingers at a pace that felt too good. "I don't think I heard you quite right."

You brought your hands to your head and let it fall back, feeling all your sanity drain from your body. The situation reminded you of when Chaewon and Yunjin forced information out of you at the hotel pool in New York. Same damn helplessness.

"You're a damn..." you trailed off as she moved her wrist faster.

"What did you say?" Zuha tilted her head, and before continuing her handjob, she spat a decent amount of saliva into her hand.

"F-for God's sake! Fine! I fucked Chaewon!" you finally managed to spit out loud and clear enough for her to hear.

Kazuha then stopped abruptly. Something inside you told you that you should have expected that given how everything had played out, but you still groaned in frustration. She quickly took a couple of steps back, knowing that in the midst of desperation you could try something.

"Good to know, then," was all she said, her lips curled into a damned smirk at having gotten her way. "I think I'll go back to bed, manager-nim. Sleep hit me again."

"You fucking..."

"I'll see you later!" Kazuha said, and upon reaching the other side of the kitchen island, she turned her back to you and took off her shirt, revealing her magnificent, perfect ass and completely bare back as she walked toward the stairs, her T-shirt crumpled in a line that covered her small tits.

When Zuha came back up, she left you there alone, cock out and horny as hell. You had no choice but to finish the job she'd started, using the saliva she'd left on your shaft to do it.

And well, it was the best jerk-off of your life. Why deny it?

After cumming and cleaning up the embarrassing mess you'd made, you finally settled down to drink your damn espresso, with the damned uncertainty of not knowing what the hell Kazuha wanted from you. She'd already gotten what she wanted, and you suspected it was nothing more than a green light to act without any qualms. A position that only harmed you, of course.

For the next two days, you and her didn't talk much, but that was exactly what she wanted, since she knew your attention was going to be on her anyway. Kazuha wandered around the house, usually without pants or wearing clothes that were too tight and without a bra. Like any intelligent person, you tried not to pay too much attention to her, but she had her ways of making sure you always saw her, like walking right past you while you were using your laptop or bending over in ways that forced you to lift your head.

It was a damn torment you weren't sure how long you could endure, and that Kazuha could prolong as long as she wanted until you were begging for pussy. Maybe that was what she wanted after all: for you to lose all dignity and get on your knees before her and act like a pathetic, desperate dog. You were better than that, luckily.

That day was Friday night. Chaewon, Kura, and Eunchae had recently gone out to dinner, and it was just Yunjin, who was locked in her room, you, and Kazuha, whom you hadn't heard from all day. In Chaewon's words, she was spending the whole day to herself, and they had decided to leave her alone and not bother her.

Which meant you were certain no one was going to bother you. By the time you lay down on your sofa bed, you'd already eaten dinner and taken a shower, and were snuggled up under your blanket, reading a book with ambient noise in your AirPods to help you focus.

A while passed, and you were completely immersed in your reading, already feeling relaxed and ready to sleep in a couple of hours.

Until you felt a couple of taps on your right shoulder that nearly made your heart leap out of your body. The shock was such that your book fell into your lap.

"...Sorry!" was what you managed to hear. Taking out your AirPods, you looked over your shoulder to find Kazuha standing behind you, dressed in a tight black tracksuit consisting of tiny shorts and a sports bra under which she was wearing nothing. She was all sweaty, her hair tied in a high bun. It was probably the hottest thing she had ever looked.

"This better be important, Nakamura," you gasped, feeling like your heart was going to jump out of your chest from how fast it was beating.

"Did I scare you that much?"

You didn't even respond, just stared at her, lips set in a line and eyes expressionless.

"Okay, okay, sorry. Well, I came to ask for your help with something."

Kazuha was breathing a little ragged; she'd probably just finished training a little while ago.

"I was going to sleep in a bit."

"It'll be quick! I promise!" She clasped her hands together in a pleading gesture. "I just need you to help me with my stretches."

You let out a deep breath. This wasn't going to end well for you, you were sure of it. It was the perfect excuse for her to tease you even more. The option of refusing was growing stronger inside you, but fuck... what a damn sexy body. Tight in every corner and glistening with sweat. It wasn't fair at all.

"Okay, Nakamura," you nodded with a sigh, swishing your feet off the couch to slide them into your Crocs. "But hurry up. I'm already sleepy."

"Hai!" Zuha nodded, and ran to find a yoga mat she'd left nearby to spread it out in the space between the carpet and the glass wall that led to the inner patio. "Just stand behind me, okay?"

"Behind... you?" You wrinkled your brow, taking hesitant steps to stand on the mat with her.

Kazuha was the one who turned around so her back was to you. Your gaze inevitably dropped to her ass, and then quickly back to her when she looked over her shoulder at you.

"Hey, focus," Zuha chided you.

You raised your hands and shrugged.

Zuha looked straight ahead again, and took a couple of small steps back to be as close to you as possible, her ass rubbing against your crotch. Then, she opened her feet to the sides and bent fully forward to plant her hands against the mat, stretching her back. But it also gave you a prime view of that beautiful ass you were tempted to grab.

"Put your hand on the center of my back and push down, manager-nim," Zuha said. "I hope you don't mind the sweat."

You didn't mind in the slightest. Not when it came to her. To be completely honest, you could perfectly well lick every drop without objection.

Carefully, you placed the palm of your hand above Kazuha's lower waist and pressed down. Kazuha let out a low, almost inaudible moan and proceeded to stretch out on both sides, touching her toes with her fingers. A couple of seconds later, she straightened and turned around. You were so close that her body heat spread to you.

"Hold still," Kazuha said, taking a couple of steps back before bending forward again, this time keeping her back in a straight line before holding onto your waist. Her face was dangerously close to your bulge. "Do the same to my back."

You weren't sure it was necessary; she seemed to be doing all the work herself. But you didn't hesitate, placing your hand in the same position as a moment ago to apply gentle pressure. Kazuha groaned again, and you were petrified when she craned her neck slightly and pressed the tip of her nose against your bulge.

"Nakamura..." you said under your breath, but she didn't seem to hear you.

Kazuha craned her neck a little further and pressed her mouth against it before standing up again, an amused look on her face.

"Are you finished?" you asked with a glimmer of hope, feeling yourself starting to get hard.

"Almost there," Zuha replied, turning her back to you again to kneel on the mat. "Come on, behind me. Above my heels."

You sighed and obeyed, kneeling with her heels below your crotch, which was essentially rubbing against her ass. Kazuha must have sensed how hard you were, because you managed to catch a hint of a smile on her face.

"You'll do the same to my back," Zuha said, before bending her upper torso down, arms stretched out in front of her, head between them. Her ass looked delicious again under your eyes, round and firm as it was raised. Besides, the tiny shorts made part of her asscheeks peek out. If only you could pull those damn shorts down and...

With your eyes closed so as not to lose control, you placed your hand where Kazuha indicated. But this time, just to treat yourself, you pushed your hips forward a little and pressed your hard bulge fully against her ass. Kazuha moaned under her breath as she discreetly pressed her ass against you as well. She wasn't even stretching properly anymore; she only cared about whatever you were doing at the moment.

"Wah," she sighed, finally sitting back on her heels a few seconds later. "That feels so good."

"Are we done?" you asked, looking away with your hands in your lap. You had no idea why you were covering your boner if you'd already made her feel it on purpose, but you did it anyway.

"No, but all that's missing are my legs," Zuha replied. "And that's the most important thing."

"Of course it is," you said, tired.

Kazuha gestured for you to move to the side. As you did, she lay back on the mat facing you, her arms tucked into her body and her legs together. Then, she brought up a bent leg and grabbed the top of her calf to press it against her torso.

"You know what to do, right?" Kazuha asked, peeking out from behind her knee to look at you.

"You're assuming I know more than I actually do," you replied, kneeling beside her.

"Just press my thigh as far toward me as you can. It's easy."

"What if I hurt you?"

"You're not going to hurt me, silly. Come here."

You could have done that perfectly well from where you were, but Kazuha patted the opposite thigh. She wanted you to sit there, probably because it was the closest your crotches could be to each other. A meticulously malevolent being, you weren't wrong about that.

Cursing under your breath, you went and straddled her where she'd said, pressing her thigh toward her body with both of your hands. Aside from the cold sweat, her flesh felt firm beneath your fingers, the product of years and years of her ballerina training and now her workouts.

"Mmm, I think there might be a better angle for this," Kazuha murmured, and writhed beneath you to lower her position, consequently pressing your crotches together. Only then did you realize her pussy was poking through the fabric of her shorts, and your painfully hard bulge was rubbing against it.

"Fuck, Nakamura," you gasped, your fingers circling the back of her thigh. "Is this really necessary?"

"You agreed to help me, didn't you?" Zuha asked, glancing at your privates rubbing against each other.

"Yes, but..."

"Then don't complain. Now for the other leg."

You let go of her thigh so she could stretch out her leg and you could straddle her. She then brought her other leg up, and you held her thigh towards her body. The torturous process was the same. Now your cock was throbbing, and you didn't know where to look to hide your embarrassment.

"Having fun, huh?" Zuha ventured, and you knew what she meant without even looking at her.

"I think we have different concepts of what having fun is, Nakamura," you replied.

"You're wrong. It's the same for both of us. You're just more closed-minded about it than I am."

You chuckled. What a damn nerve she had, saying that.

Before you could respond, Kazuha lifted her hips and deliberately began grinding against your bulge. She even made you release her thigh so she could get better range of motion. Her crotch then began massaging your cock up and down, making you gasp.

"This is your concept of fun?" you asked, looking into her eyes.

"I don't know... you like it?" Zuha tilted her head and looked down at your bulge. She bit her lip. "No, you definitely like it. That's a silly question."

It was about to happen, you were sure of it. There was no way out. And since there wasn't, you finally dared to take a step forward.

Somewhat hesitantly, you placed your hand on Zuha's toned abdomen, then slowly lowered it until your thumb was touching her pussy. Zuha smiled, biting the tip of her tongue, and moaned when you circled near what you knew was her clit.

But just when you thought she was reaching out to return the favor, she put her hand on your abdomen and pushed you back with unexpected force. You fell onto your ass as she pulled away.

"You've got to be kidding me..." you said through gritted teeth, feeling the anger grow up within you.

"Thank you for your help, manager-nim," Zuha said, standing up. Her mischievous smile made your blood boil. "I know you must be very sleepy, so I'll let you go to bed."

"You're fucking despicable," you said as she picked up the mat, pulling it out from under you.

"And what are you gonna do about it?" Zuha raised her eyebrows, rolling up the mat. You didn't respond. "Yeah, I thought so."

Zuha then tucked the rolled-up mat under her arm and blew you a kiss before heading back the way she came, leaving you once again with a painful boner under your shorts and horny as hell. You cursed under your breath. It was partly your damn fault, for not having the balls to take charge of the situation. But what could you do? It was just common sense, since your position didn't give you the freedom to do whatever you wanted. Caution, you called it.

But your reasons for caution were running out, as was your patience. It was clear she wanted you to do something, and she wouldn't be like the other three girls, who would make their wishes clear from the start. No, Zuha wanted you to take the initiative, and she was poking you with a stick like a sleeping animal, just to see how long you could hold out until you swallowed your pride and gave in to your anger.

You had already swallowed your pride when you touched her a few moments ago. Now it only remained to see how much further your patience threshold could extend until you exploded, and that wouldn't be far.

That night you slept bitterly, not even wanting to masturbate to appease how horny you were. You would save yourself for her, for when the time came.

The next day passed peacefully. The girls had arrived from dinner in the early hours; you knew this since they woke you from your sleep just to notify you. They slept until 2 p.m., and later everyone—except for Eunchae, who went to visit her parents—was getting ready downstairs to party.

"Kim Chaewon, don't you dare turn off your phone," you warned, walking beside her as you escorted them out. Sakura, Yunjin, and Kazuha went ahead. "Keep me up to date as much as you can. I get anxious when you all go out."

Chaewon stopped and took your hand, careful not to let the others notice. That made you look at her.

"I promise to keep you updated, sweetheart," she said softly, taking a step toward you that immediately made you nervous. Her eyes landed on yours. "Stop worrying so much and trust me."

All the anxiety and worries subsided with that. A strange sense of relief washed over you through her sweet tone of voice and sparkling eyes. Hell fucking no. If you started having feelings for that girl, you were screwed.

But instead of drawing a line and making your position clear, you squeezed her hand in gratitude and gave her a small smirk. It felt good to do so, so you didn't regret it. At least not yet.

"Fine, sorry," you nodded, letting go of her hand. "What time are you planning on coming back?"

"Around 2 am," Chaewon replied. "Depends on how quickly we get in. I don't think it'll be long."

"Take care, then."

Chaewon glanced quickly at the girls, and when she confirmed they weren't looking, she stood on her tiptoes to give you a small kiss on the cheek before joining the others. The spot where her kiss fell felt warm, and now you had the emotional tide against you for not having been quick enough to avoid it.

You quickly said goodbye to the girls and followed them with your eyes as they left the house. But Zuha stopped suddenly and looked at them with a hand on her stomach and a furrowed forehead. On pure instinct, you took a couple of steps forward, worried.

"Huh? What's wrong?" Kura asked.

"Cramps," Kazuha replied, slouching slightly. "I think I need to go to the bathroom."

"Oh, we'll wait for you then."

"No, no," Zuha shook her head, putting one foot back inside the house. "I know this won't stop for a while. Go without me."

"Are you sure? You've been saying all day you needed a drink."

"I'd rather have my stomach healthy than a drink."

Kura pouted.

"As you wish," Kura took her hand in a rather motherly manner. "I'll call you later to check on you, okay?" Then she looked at you. "Manager-nim, make her some chamomile tea, will you?"

"Sure," you nodded.

Kazuha hugged the girls goodbye and closed the door herself. You stood there in the hall, waiting for her to turn to you.

"Do you need anything else?" you asked her as she walked toward you with a pained expression. "I'll make you the chamomile right away."

"I'm fine," Zuha replied, passing by you. "I just need that and rest. Thank you."

Zuha hurried up the stairs to the second floor, and you went straight to the kitchen to prepare her chamomile. Minutes later, the water was boiling, ready to put the sachet in. You would leave it for about ten minutes to let the flavor settle. While you waited, you decided to text her.

The minutes passed, and there was no response from her. You didn't find it strange; she was probably feeling really bad and had her phone away. It was best not to pressure her.

When enough time had passed, you took out the chamomile sachet and threw it in the trash. Then, you went to the fridge to find a lemon and cut it in half, to add a small splash of juice to your tea. Finally, you poured the tea into a porcelain cup and added sugar, not too much so as not to overpower the chamomile and lemon. The smell made you want to take a sip yourself.

You were about to take the cup to her when you received a message. It was her, and you almost slipped on the first few steps. There was a damn tap-to-see photo.

If you had dropped your jaw any further, you probably would have opened a hole in the floor. The photo was of her in a hot, skimpy lingerie set that you couldn't figure out how she managed to put on so quickly. It consisted mostly of interconnecting black velvet straps that ran all over her naked body, forming a triangle above her navel, from which two straps branched off on either side to connect with those that ran down to the sky-blue lace bows she had around each thigh, while the third went up to connect with the straps that circled the outline of her small tits to form a choker around her neck. The panties also consisted solely of straps, which highlighted her beautiful, perfectly shaved pussy. The icing on the cake were the lace details here and there: under her breasts, on her shoulders, the bows that encircled her thighs, and a small piece between the square formed by the straps over her pussy.

Very hot, yes. The boner had been instant. But you were overlooking something very important: that damn slut had fooled you all.

You hurriedly left the cup of chamomile tea in the kitchen and then ran to the second floor. Up there, you moved with long, impetuous strides, breathing like a rabid bull. When you reached the room Kazuha and Chaewon shared, you flung open the door and entered like an unstoppable force of nature, slamming it shut. The mythomaniac princess was on her own bed, face down, her back to the door. From there, the view of her naked ass was perfect.

Hearing you enter, Kazuha looked over her shoulder at you. She raised her calves to cross her feet and block your view of her pussy.

"I'm so fucking tired of you," you said, taking slow steps toward the bed.

"Yeah, but does this lingerie look cute on me or nah?" Zuha asked.

That was it. You couldn't take it anymore.

Almost without thinking, you took off the sweater you were wearing and threw it on the floor, striding toward the bed. Kazuha rolled over and positioned herself on her back, just in time for you to pounce on her and crash your lips against hers.

Kazuha moaned as she received your kiss, immediately wrapping her arms around your neck and her strong legs around your torso. She arched her back, pressing your bodies together and giving you the space to slide your hands underneath. You ran your hands up and down her back, feeling every muscle beneath your fingertips. Then you moved down to her thighs, pressed on either side of your waist, squeezing and rubbing them with the palms of your hands, careful not to damage the lace of the bows.

"Mmm, you took a while," Kazuha moaned against your lips, and reached between your bodies to grasp your cock through your sweatpants and knead it. She quickly got you hard. "You even made me use my last weapon."

"Last weapon? You've been running away from me all these damn days, what the fuck did you expect me to do?" You snapped, as Kazuha pulled down your sweatpants and boxers a little, freeing your hard cock.

"Have I really been running away, manager-nim?" Zuha asked between kisses. Her fingers wrapped around your shaft, rubbing it slowly. "Or is it that you just didn't have the balls to tame me this whole time?"

Oh, so that's where it was going, huh? Good.

"You're a fucking insufferable slut," you murmured, testing the waters.

"Mmm, yes," Zuha moaned, and moved her hand faster on your cock. "Tell me that again."

"I said two things. Which one? You're more of one than the other."

"Oh come on, stop playing around, manager-nim," Zuha gasped. She really wanted you to repeat it.

"You wish I was playing around, Nakamura."

You pulled away from Kazuha's lips and went straight down to her small breasts. Kazuha inevitably had to let go of your cock to place her hands between your neck and jaw, moaning as you took one of her nipples into your mouth and licked it with the tip of your tongue. There you sucked until her mound was covered in saliva, then moved on to the next. And after attending to each breast, you decided to indulge in a kissing spree all over Kazuha's upper body: collarbone, shoulders, arms, and finally her abdomen.

Kazuha gently gripped your hair as you ran your tongue down her stomach and placed wet kisses around her navel, your hands resting on her thighs. From there, you moved down to her lower abdomen, and then to the point where the straps and lace blocked the path to her pubis. You had to lower your body further to be between her legs, but not to eat her pussy, that would have been what she wanted. Instead, you opened her legs and took them behind her knees to kiss the inside of her thighs, teasing her with a touch of her pussy but always staying mere millimeters away.

"Is this fucking revenge or what?" Zuha asked with a whimper, still even though you didn't have her so tightly in her grasp. She was right where she wanted to be. "Do you think I don't deserve to have my pussy eaten?"

"No. You don't deserve it," you replied flatly, happy just to kiss and feel her soft skin and firm muscles against your lips.

"I only got you horny twice!" she protested, as if it was nothing. "You could have done something about it, but you didn't have the balls."

"You better shut up, walking microwave," you warned, standing up to remove your sweatpants and boxers. "Don't make this any harder for yourself."

"Or what? You'll just stand there and watch me have my way again?" Zuha chuckled, but the smile faded when you spat on your cock and took the tip into her pussy. "Oh wait! Fuck!" she moaned.

Her pussy was as tight as you imagined, but it didn't take much effort to fill her stifling walls with every inch of your shaft. It felt so stupidly heavenly that you rolled your eyes with a moan.

"You've been playing with yourself today, huh?" you asked, your hands pressing her thighs back, noticing how easily your cock slid in and out of her.

"Maybe," Zuha managed to reply between soft moans. She brought a finger to her mouth and nibbled on the tip as she watched you slowly fuck her.

"You knew your plan would work out perfectly, and you prepared for when I couldn't hold it in anymore. Fucking slut."

Without realizing it you'd repeated the word, and it quickly sank into Kazuha's body. She arched her back a few inches off the mattress and placed her hand between her breasts, sliding it down her abdomen to her pussy, rubbing circles over her clit. But you were quick to grab her wrist and pull it away, bringing both hands above her head to pin them to the mattress.

"I didn't say you could do that, did I?" You raised your eyebrows, looking down at her since her face was right under yours.

At that moment, a spark seemed to ignite in Kazuha's eyes, which softened and lost the arrogance of a few minutes ago.

"You're right, daddy," Zuha purred. "You never said I could touch myself."

Well, great. Not only was it enough for Chaewon to use that little word with you, but now Kazuha would also join the club. You weren't going to complain tho. It was simpler and more fun to accept the role with open arms.

"That's a good girl," you gasped, and with both hands holding her wrists against the bed, you began to fuck her like you'd been wanting to do all these days. Hard, and rough. Above all, rough. Seeking to release all that pent-up frustration she had sown in you.

Zuha's moans began to flow freely through the room, in perfect harmony with the sound of your gradually faster thrusts. She kept her legs wide open for you, and offered no resistance to your grip on her wrists in a show of pure submission. Too bad you didn't have handcuffs handy.

Zuha begged for a kiss with her gaze, which jumped from your eyes to your lips. To please her, you flexed your arms and lowered your body, meeting her cute, parted lips. The angle now forced you to move your hips slower, but at the same time, you were hitting spots in her pussy you hadn't previously reached, causing her to stifle whimpers against your lips.

"Yes daddy," Zuha moaned. "I fucking love that, keep it up please!"

Zuha pursed her lips, closed her eyes, and arched her back, her tits now brushing against your chest. She was close to her orgasm; you could tell by the way she made a show of closing her thighs around your torso and by the way her moans faded to give way to heavy gasps. You would have allowed it with Chaewon, but you weren't going to be so forgiving with her after she'd made your life miserable for so many days. So just when she thought she was about to cum, you released her wrists and pulled out of her.

"Daddy, no!" Zuha protested. Her eyes filled with tears. "No, please! Let me cu-"

Her protests fell short of nothing when you knelt to her left, grabbed the back of her neck, and guided your cock into her mouth. Kazuha took it with a whimper, but hollowed her cheeks as she pumped her head and sucked on your cock.

"I decide when you can cum," you said, brushing her hair behind her ears and then tying it back into a ponytail with your left hand. "Is that clear?"

Zuha looked up at you as she pumped halfway into your cock and nodded. You let her do the work at first, just to give your lower body a rest, and she was doing an excellent job with her mouth and tongue. She took you out for short periods of time to lick your tip and kiss your shaft all over, trying to please you enough to soften you up. It almost worked. But before she could continue, you made her stop so you could take control and fuck her mouth.

"Be a good girl and take all that cock for daddy," you panted as you pushed a few more inches into her mouth. It didn't fit all of it: you soon ran into the natural barrier that made her gag. But it was more than enough. "Oh fuck yes."

With one hand in Zuha's makeshift ponytail and the other on the right side of her neck, you began pumping your hips back and forth at a steady pace, getting faster as the seconds ticked by. You could tell Zuha wasn't used to that sort of thing, but she was enjoying it despite her gag reflex triggering over and over again and making a mess of her own saliva.

Soon your thrusts became aggressive and frantic, causing the pool of saliva building up inside Zuha's mouth to soak your cock and spill in thick drops onto her small tits. Zuha didn't bother asking for a break, whether out of pride or to show you she was a good girl. Either way, you gave her a hard time when you pushed her head down onto the base of your cock. She gripped your thighs out of inertia, closing her eyes as you nuzzled your tip into her throat. A few seconds later, you were forced to pull out when Zuha started coughing.

"Now it's not so fun leaving me hanging, huh?" you asked, letting go of her hair and neck. Zuha's head fell and bounced against the mattress as she coughed.

"If I hadn't, you wouldn't be like this right now," Zuha gasped, coughing again. Then she grabbed your cock and moved her hand over it slowly, not caring that it would get drenched in the thick layer of saliva covering your shaft. "It's perfect."

You pulled out of her and went back between her legs to lie on your stomach, wrap your arms around her thighs, and finally plant your mouth on her pussy. Zuha arched her back and sighed in relief, as if she'd been wanting it for a long time—which she probably had. The case wasn't much different for you: tasting that delicious meat dish went straight to your deepest fantasies, repressed by what you thought was the harsh reality of never being able to achieve it. But now you couldn't be anything but grateful for the twists of fate, because her folds were so soft and delicious that in a normal situation it would have taken an entire construction crew to pry you away.

"I thought I didn't deserve you eating my pussy," Zuha said, stroking your hair.

"Let's just say you've done enough to earn it," you replied, and proceeded to go up to her clit.

"Also to cum?" she asked, but you didn't respond.

Following the canons established by your past fantasies about her, you ate her pussy as if it were the last chance you'd ever have. A little over a minute passed when, in the same characteristic pattern, Zuha was about to cum. You continued as if you knew nothing, with a relentless emphasis on her clit. You took her to the very limit.

Close...

Until you rose up to leave her pussy and let her orgasm hang.

"Oh my god, no!" Zuha whimpered, desperately trying to grab you and return you to her pussy, but you slipped away. "Please daddy, no!"

"I said you deserved me to eat your pussy," you said, grabbing her left leg behind the knee to push it back and insert two fingers into her pussy. Zuha whimpered. "I never said anything about cumming."

"And how do you expect me not to cum if you do that?" Zuha asked, as you began pumping your fingers in and out of her.

"That's your problem, not mine."

"But-!" Zuha bit out a protest as your fingers sped up. She had to take a moment to gather her words. "But daddy, I'm so close! I can't hold it!"

"Yes you can, and you'll be able to," you threatened, your left hand fingers digging into the back of her thigh. Your fingers were fucking her wet pussy fast. "So don't you fucking dare cum until I tell you to."

"But I want to cum!" Zuha whimpered, her hands clutching the sheet. Tears pooled in her eyes again, and one trickled down her cheek. "Please!!"

"Stop whining like a brat and hold it!" you snorted.

Another tear or two trickled down Zuha's cheeks as she looked everywhere but down. She brought a hand to her mouth to stifle her screams, and bit down on that same hand when it balled into a fist. Her breathing, on the other hand, showed how desperate she was, as her chest rose and fell like a bellows about to burst. It was admirable, to be honest. In her position, you wouldn't have lasted two seconds.

"Please!!" Zuha insisted, now truly crying because of the way her lower lip trembled.

"A little more..." you said under your breath, staring at her. Your wrist was starting to tire. "Hold on... Now cum, slut."

Zuha exploded with such force that she tore the sheets off their edges and let out a scream so loud you were sure it could have been heard on the street at that time of night. Her violent orgasm was accompanied by a pleasant surprise: an intense jet of squirt that you let out freely as you pulled your fingers out of her, soaking her buttocks, the sheets, and part of your knee.

"What a good girl," you praised her, watching her thighs tremble. "You made a whole damn mess tho."

Zuha looked at you with tear-filled eyes, arms open at her sides. She hadn't bothered to wipe her cheeks. Her buttocks and thighs were soaked with drops of squirt.

"Keep fucking me, daddy, please," she said in a small voice, bringing two fingers to her pussy, rubbing them a few times between her folds, and then bringing them to her mouth to suck on her own fluids. "I can handle it like the good girl I am."

"Let's put that to the test then. Turn around."

Zuha rolled over and onto her stomach. Her sweet spot, that firm, round ass, was now entirely at your disposal. You placed your hands underneath her and made her raise her hips. She got the message and spread her knees to the sides, lifted her ass, and arched her back, leaving only her chest and hands against the mattress. It was the perfect backshot position, and the damn lingerie still intact only made it much better.

Without wasting time, you grabbed your cock and drove it into her pussy, in a single smooth motion that made you both moan in unison. Her pussy walls embraced your cock from all directions, squeezing it hard and warming her up. Zuha, with her head resting on her crossed arms, looked over her shoulder and locked eyes with you. Then you, with your hands on her waist, began to fuck her.

Going slow at first was something you did on purpose, mainly to feel every possible texture of her pussy in detail, but also to admire the view of her perfect raised ass with a cock constantly disappearing between her butt cheeks. But that soon became insufficient for you. So you made a sudden change of gear.

"Mmmgh, does my pussy feel good when you fuck it like that, daddy?" Zuha whimpered, now being pounded and jolted by your thrusts.

"It must feel better for you, right?" you asked through gritted teeth, and you slapped her left butt cheek before squeezing it. "This is what you've been wanting for days."

"Oh, you have no idea," Zuha replied with a sigh. "I haven't been able to stop imagining how well that cock could fill me up ever since Kura-chan told me everything."

"That damn snitch," you grumbled.

"Thanks to that damn snitch, you're fucking me hard from behind like a whore, don't forget that. Mmmgh!!"

You gripped her waist with your fingers tightly gripped and your pelvis collided with her ass with hard slaps. Zuha opened her arms from under her head and extended them to the sides, elbows bent, to crumple the sheets between her fingers. She understood that she no longer had any restrictions on cumming, and she did so after a few brief seconds.

But you felt in perfect shape to continue, nowhere near cumming even though your engine was revving at full power and she looked that hot.

Zuha squealed in despair as you continued your thrusts through her orgasm. Now you had one hand on her bare, muscular back, and seconds later you reached up to grab a handful of her long, black hair and pull her head back. She came again after a few seconds, and the spasms forced her to drop her hips back onto the mattress. Your cock inevitably slipped out of her pussy.

"Do you need a break?" you asked, slipping out of character a little since she looked exhausted.

"I appreciate your concern, but no," Zuha replied, bringing her legs together so her buttocks squeezed against each other. "I said I could take it. So don't be so kind to me, daddy."

"Well, if you insist..."

You straddled her thighs and guided your cock between her buttocks, rubbing it between them before returning to her pussy. As you went back inside her, you leaned forward to lie flat on top of her, grabbing her chin to turn her head and kiss her. Zuha moaned against your lips as you fucked her with slow, deep strokes.

After kissing her for some long seconds, you braced your hands against the mattress and lifted yourself up to move harder, thrusting up and down. Zuha dropped her head and let the right side of her face rest against the mattress.

"Oh, daddy, you're filling me up so good," Zuha moaned, glancing at you. She reached out and found a pillow to hold onto. "I can't wait to feel all that hot, sticky load inside me..."

"Can you stand up?" you asked between gasps. "There's a particular way I'd like to do it."

"I think I know what you mean," Zuha nodded. "Let's do whatever you want, daddy."

You immediately pulled off her and helped her stand up off the bed. Her wobbly legs made you hesitate about whether it was a good idea or not, but she didn't seem close to giving in to them. And instead of complaining, Zuha did her iconic Antifragile leg lift as soon as you stood between the beds, only instead of lowering it back again, she rested it against your left shoulder and let her calf fall behind your back.

"Oh... my... god," you said to yourself, amazed not only by Zuha's flexibility, but also by the stamina she had in her support leg and how hot her pussy looked.

"Is this what you had in mind, daddy?" Zuha asked, one hand on your chest and the other resting against the wall for balance.

"Oh, that's perfect," you nodded, placing your hand on her thigh to rub up and down while the other rubbed her abs. "Are you sure you can hold yourself like this?"

"I can," she agreed. "But you'd better hurry or my legs might give out on me."

Without needing to say anything else, you grabbed your cock and guided it back inside her. The sensation was completely different now: it was tighter inside her, much tighter. It was like putting your cock between two damn hydraulic presses that threatened to crush it. And god, it felt fucking delicious. If you thought your climax was still far off before, you had to reconsider that now, because as soon as you started fucking her in that position, your body entered a state of ecstasy you'd rarely felt in your life, as if all your blood was flowing faster to give you a surge of energy.

For Zuha it felt just as good, or at least that's how it seemed from the way she moaned louder than she had a moment ago and dug her natural nails into your abdomen. Her legs didn't seem close to giving way, but it got really tough for her when she came again, and her supporting leg wobbled. You held onto the leg she had draped over you as tightly as you could, keeping her from falling to the floor. In the process the lace bow on her thigh loosened, but the straps were intact.

Zuha's solution was as simple as it was perfect: she sacrificed the balance the wall gave her to press herself against her own leg and clung to your neck with her arms, so that her head was next to her knee and your faces were inches from each other. Of course, you kissed her, concentrating entirely on how good her pussy felt amidst such hard, fast thrusts.

After a moment, you entered the downward spiral. One thrust after another against that tight pussy with every inch of your shaft, Zuha's moans against your lips, your bodies now sweaty. It all resulted in the most mind-melting and electrifying orgasm you'd experienced to date.

"Oh my fucking god!" you moaned, shooting spurt after spurt of thick cum into that tight Japanese ballerina pussy.

"Oh daddy that feels so good," Zuha sighed, letting her head fall back. Her fingers gripped the back of your neck. "Actually I think I'm going to... Mmmgh!!"

Zuha went through her own sensual orgasm as you emptied your balls inside her and felt her muscles and pussy contract. You kissed her long, luscious neck, still moaning to yourself until your climax subsided. Then you stayed like that for a while, balls deep inside her and holding her close to catch your breath.

"You came a lot, daddy..." Zuha whispered in your ear. "You've been saving yourself for me, haven't you? That's adorable..."

"I'd rather not answer, Nakamura," you replied, placing more kisses on her neck and jawline. "All I know is that you're so fucking hot."

Zuha pulled you in for another kiss, this time slower and more passionate, and gave you a gentle push back to ease you out of her. You both looked down to see your cum spilling onto the carpeted floor beneath your feet.

"You know this floor is a fucking pain to clean, right?" you asked.

"It's not like you clean it regularly," Zuha retorted.

"And neither do you."

"Yeah anyway," Zuha looked up and met your gaze. "Will you sleep with me for a while, daddy?"

"Just a little while," you nodded. "Do you want me to help you take all that stuff off?"

"Oh yeah, please," she sighed. "Putting it on was a pain in the ass."

"No surprise there."

Zuha pulled away from you and sat on the edge of her bed. You helped her remove the entire piece of lingerie, being careful not to pinch her with the straps. It wasn't until Zuha was completely naked that she lay down on the bed, facing the wall, with her back to you. And as soon as you lay down next to her, she pushed her ass back to be your little spoon. The mattress didn't have a sheet, as she'd pulled it out from the edges while you were fucking her, and it was all wrinkled in one corner, so you could snuggle up comfortably to close your eyes.

But you couldn't afford to get too comfortable and sleep too much. Zuha still had a lie to maintain, and if Chaewon caught you there, it was going to be a huge mess for her. So you never really got to sleep.

After a couple of hours, you woke Zuha up, and together you set about making the bed and cleaning as much as you could. By the time the girls returned, everything was in perfect natural order: Zuha asleep in her bed in comfy clothes, and you lying on your couch.

No one ever suspected a thing.

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

#lesserafim smut #le sserafim smut #kazuha smut #kpop smut #smut fanfic #male reader smut #male reader insert #x male reader smut

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ahundredtimesover · 3 months ago

Text

Something About You (01) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: friends au, vacation au, slow burn, romcom-ish vibe; adulting; inspired by AYS; PE teacher!JK and researcher!OC; fluff, comfort, smut (?)

Chapter Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption, mentions of cheating (JK’s ex) (18+)

Word count: 11.4k

Series Masterlist

Status: Complete

Series Summary: You and Jungkook have been friends for a decade. And while he’s the charming and dependable, often reserved boy-next-door, he’s also just been a friend - a constant in your life, a part of a whole, and someone who’s seen all the flawed and probably unattractive sides of you.

A resumption of your friend group’s out-of-town trips has caused you to spend more time with him. And somewhere in between the morning coffee in the forest, running around in the snow, and watching the sunset on a boat, he’s become something more. And you’re not quite sure how to deal with it.

🎶: Beautiful Soul by Jesse McCartney || Yes or No by Jungkook

A/N: Hi, it's here! This is a tribute to my group of friends. BTS is comfort and I love them so much 💜 Other female characters are inspired by some other fictional characters (tell me if you know who!) Also to Kim Namjoon, I'm sorry 🤣 (you'll get it). Please enjoy!

Your eyes dart to the time on your laptop screen.

4:17 PM.

This online meeting was supposed to end half an hour ago and you planned on clocking out right after so you could get to where you need to be but you should’ve known better. Your research team had taken so much time discussing operational aspects of the project that you are in charge of and you had to keep everyone on track. It worked for the most part.

But while your work chat is still buzzing with questions that you state you’ll respond to next week, your phone’s group chat is being bombarded with messages from your best friend.

[from: jiminie pabo] yooo ___ are you on your way??

[from: jiminie pabo] you better not flake on us or else tae will wrestle you

[from: jiminie pabo] reply to me!!

You manage to keep your expression neutral as you sneakily reply and say that you’re still stuck in a meeting and it’ll probably take you another 30 minutes before you could leave. Your car’s in the warehouse after a little accident so you’re gonna have to book a ride. It’s rush hour on a Friday so it’ll be tough, but you’re managing this team and you can’t just end the meeting without your members having ironed their thoughts out.

[from: jiminie pabo] kook is just finishing up. i asked him to pick you up from your place

[from: jiminie pabo] your carriage is on its way. you’re welcome

You sigh in relief internally at not having to worry about transportation. And it’s shortly after when the man in question sends you a text message to say that he’s just left the gymnasium and will get to you in 40 minutes max.

That’s enough time for you to get ready and make sure you have all your things packed and your mind devoid of all things work-related because as you’ve promised yourself, you’ll try this whole work-life balance madness and shut off for the weekend.

But then again, you don’t really have a choice when you’ve got that trip planned with your friends in the mountains. Or was it the forest? You’re not sure; the outdoors are all the same to you.

Taehyung had just arrived after a year and a half in London where he was making waves in a few theater productions. He wanted to immediately spend time with your group of 12, and a little vacation was planned right away, just like how it was in the old days.

The camping-turned-glamping weekend was because you convinced everyone that setting up tents was just gonna waste your time, and the point of the trip is to spend it together. You pretty much pouted your way through it, but they also know you well enough that not sleeping on a bed and not having proper running water just isn’t your thing. Doing it once was enough, and the last time you camped, you were miserable.

Hoseok luckily found a property that operated cabins with all the comforts of home. You saw a bed and bathroom and you locked in, and you’ve been waiting for this weekend since your older friend laid out all the activities you’ll be doing.

Adulting is stressful enough; trying to make a difference in the world is even more. The time you spend with the people who know you best and who accept all versions of you has become your key to survival.

And yes, that includes your brat of a best friend.

[from: jiminie pabo] get ur flat asses here soon, ok?

[from: jiminie pabo] i just want to eat and drink and pretend I don’t have responsibilities

You decide against defending your not-so-flat ass because it really doesn’t stand a chance against his, and instead say you’ll update them once you’re near.

You head out the door once Jungkook texts you that he’s just turned to your street, and you find him already opening the trunk and reaching out for your bag, just like the gentleman that he is. He’s donned in his usual sweats, a look you’re so used to that you forget sometimes he’s a proper adult with a proper job.

“Did your students win?” You ask as you enter the car.

“They placed, so they’ve got another tournament to go,” he smiles. “They were so shocked but I knew they could do it. They worked so hard.”

“Having a good coach helps, I guess,” you wink.

He chuckles then asks about your meeting, and you narrate how tiring this week - more like this whole month - has been. Between the weekly research conferences you’ve been organizing and the daily management of your teams, you haven’t really had time to rest.

“Is that why you insisted on going for a cabin trip?” He asks. “Honestly, I was looking forward to setting up camp and all that.”

“I know you do that for fun and stuff but why would we do all the work and set up our own tents? This isn’t a team building activity, you know?”

“Isn’t that the point of going on a friend trip? To bond and do stuff together like that?”

“We do enough bonding when we make our food,” you point out.

“Yeah? And what exactly do you contribute?”

“Excuse me, I’m the taster,” you gasp. “Trying the food before you all do is like, a crucial role.”

“You can’t even tell if a dish needs more salt or not,” he chuckles, referring to your obvious lack of food knowledge and your very basic palette.

“Uh, I didn’t know Jimin was the one who picked me up,” you scowl. “Why are you calling me out, Kook? You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“What if I don’t want to be?” he teases.

“You must! Or be the neutral one, then!”

“That’s Tae’s job. I’m just here to enjoy the show. It’s never boring with you and Jimin around,” he smiles.

Your face relaxes at this. At least you provide some form of entertainment to your friends, since you can’t really contribute in any other way. Your clumsy ass and inability to develop practical life skills won’t let you. It’s your shared helplessness that has you and Namjoon bonding every trip.

“Why are you so against camping anyway? You literally don’t even have to do anything.”

“Kook, there are four things in this world that make me angry - heat, bugs, Jimin, and uncomfortable sleeping arrangements.”

“You forgot cold food,” Jungkook adds.

“Because hot food is supposed to be eaten hot. Duh.”

“And Mo-eum’s chewing.”

“Because she eats like a child.”

“And Tae’s headlock.”

“Dude can choke me with those arms,” you exclaim.

“Text that’s not justified also drives you nuts. And indented paragraphs. And non-use of the Oxford comma. And Gill Sans. And—”

“Yah!” You exclaim, smacking his chest with the back of your hand.

He responds with the kind of laugh that Jungkook reserves for your group of friends - squinted eyes, scrunched nose, wide open mouth, and bouncing shoulders. With a 10-year friendship under your belts, you know this is him teasing. And genuinely enjoying it.

“You’re having too much fun making fun of me, huh,” you frown.

He settles into a smile - the cheeky yet comforting one that you’ve gotten used to over the years.

“___, I coached the high school swim team all afternoon. You know how intense those matches get,” he groans. “Getting on your nerves and then telling all our friends about it is my chosen relief for tonight.”

“You make me sound like I whine a lot,” you pout.

His pursed lips tell you that you actually do, and you smack his arm this time and whine some more.

“I was just making the point that many things, in fact, make you angry. Not just four,” he corrects.

“This is why I’m single,” you sigh, sinking into your seat. “And why I forever will be.”

Jungkook turns to you and your faraway eyes tell him you’ve fallen into that corner of your mind again that always drowns in thoughts. He doesn’t know how you went from thinking of what makes you angry to believing you’ll forever be single but that’s how conversations with you go all the time.

Your mind goes from one realm to another.

And you ramble. A lot. A moment of being lost in your own mind is immediately followed by a period of vocal self-reflection and bouts of existential crisis, which is odd for a person who seems to be so sure of herself and what she stands for.

But that’s how you are. You could go 30 minutes straight just talking about one of the research projects you’re working on without breathing. One time, Hoseok asked you about what was going on with the women’s protests and you ended up presenting a whole ass thesis about social movements, complete with some conceptual framework and other things Jungkook didn’t understand.

And while your friends looked at you in bewilderment - except for Namjoon, who probably had read that same piece of work and was giving side comments during your impromptu lecture - Jungkook applauded you internally. You were very passionate about it. And you clearly knew your shit.

When he met you during your first year of university after Jimin, his best friend from middle school, brought you and your best friend Mo-eum to dinner, Jungkook thought your rambling was typical of a political science major who just had too much to say. He later on realised that you were actually one of those rare types who had such a rich, active mind with the ability to eloquently express all her thoughts. Majority of the time at least, but even if he couldn’t always grasp what you were saying, he knew it was substantial.

And much as he enjoys teasing you about all these quirks you have, it’s also his job as your friend to assure you that you’re doing alright.

You’ve already got your legs folded on the passenger seat and your face distorting with every new thought that crosses your mind, so he nudges you with his elbow.

“Yah, your being single has nothing to do with your grocery list of things that make you mad,” he says. “They’re harmless, okay? Plus, being angry isn’t always a bad thing, right? Like the great Kim Namjoon said - anger is necessary. It’s our history because anger has changed the world. And while you may be angry at all these little things, you and I know it’s that same fire in you that makes you good at what you do. And it’s what makes you a good person and a good friend.”

Your eyes turn to the man next to you, no doubt exhausted from a full day of teaching middle school kids and coaching the high school swim team but breezing through traffic while dealing with your whiny ass.

You’re a words of affirmation type of girl. All your friends know that. But you also know that when they assure you about something, they genuinely mean it.

“True, anger is good sometimes,” you nod and smile.

“I mean, who else would willingly fight their friends’ nasty exes and lay all the receipts to their faces?” Jungkook points out. “And you know already that even if I don’t understand half of the things you say about your research projects, I know enough that your work has changed lives. So good job, ___. Not everyone can do what you do.”

“Hmm, says the Teacher of the Year winner for three years in a row,” you say, wanting to be the supportive friend this time. “You’re helping the students a lot in healthily dealing with the world and you don’t even have to expend your energy on anger.”

“But we’re both still changing lives, aren’t we?” He asks you.

“We are. God, how did we even get to talking about this?” You laugh.

“It was Namjoon and his great speech,” Jungkook chuckles. “Imagine if he was a poet or a songwriter or something.”

“Well, his grandparents decided that his pen game would be beneficial for a future political career and who knows? Speech writer one day, assemblyman the next? Maybe then he’d help us dismantle the patriarchy and make this place safer for women,” you start. “Because actually, men’s role in addressing gender inequality is so understated and—”

Your eyes meet Jungkook’s and both of yours are saying the same thing - here you go again. You both laugh in understanding and you shake your head in submission, stating that you just want to chill and won’t go into one of your rants this time.

It does give Jungkook an opening to tease you about another thing, though.

“Speaking of Namjoon, I still think you two would’ve made a good couple.”

“Yeah, but who’s gonna cook the food? Slice the fruits? Change the frikkin lightbulb? Repair whatever breaks in the house?”

The thought of how helpless you and Namjoon would be cracks Jungkook up.

“True. Clumsy people can’t be together if we want world peace,” he hums. “He’s proof that God is fair. He saw the brain and dimples and thought, yeap let me mould him into a klutz.”

“And you are not wrong,” you laugh. “Plus, we’ve known each other for a decade. How does one decide to just… date their friend?”

“That kind of normally happens, ___,” Jungkook rolls his eyes. “That’s literally how Seokjin and Hayoung got together. Met at college, became good friends, and then boom, went to a concert together then realised they like each other. And now they’re engaged.”

The thought brings a smile to your face. Thinking about your cousin’s love story with the most handsome and thoughtful man you’ve ever met gives you hope. You’re glad you entered the same university two years later than she did, in time for you to witness that friendship blossom into something more. And of course, to meet her other equally awesome friends.

You’re just not quite sure if that kind of thing is for everyone. Your two former relationships had been whirlwind romances, but the flame died as quickly as it sparked. You keep a small group of friends and none of the men, including the one next to you, had ever been a prospect.

Your thoughts are interrupted when your phone rings.

“Gyu-rim and I are at the supermarket right now,” Yoongi says, straight to the point as always. “We’re buying all our food already. Can you pass by the one nearest Seokjin’s house so we can put some of the drinks in Jungkook’s cooler?”

“Got that, uncle,” you reply, with the man no longer reacting to your term of endearment for him. “Can you get me a whole pack of sour gummy worms please? Thank you!”

You drop the call and instruct Jungkook to turn the corner. You meet Yoongi and Gyu-rim, who haul half of the groceries in the trunk. You place your pack of gummies in your bag, but you catch Jungkook eyeing it, so you ask him if he wants to nibble on something or if he’s hungry.

“I’ve got red bean bread with me,” you say. “Do you want some?”

“We’ve got a long drive so might as well,” he says. “I didn’t really get to eat during lunch because the kids were too nervous to eat and I didn’t want to show them that I still had an appetite.”

“I’m sure Seokjin and Tae’s parents prepared something for us like they always do,” you say.

There’s a reason why their house is your meeting point before every trip. Other than it being your hangout spot throughout your university years, their family also always serves a lot of food when you’re all around.

You offer Jungkook your container of the bread and he picks up two, devouring them immediately before eating another one in two bites. You grab his water jug from the backseat and hand it over to him. Just as he finishes, you enter the village and arrive at the house.

You pinch and pull his cheek as you often do to express your thanks, and you get out of the car before he pinches you in return.

You enter the living room and the scene before you is one you’ve seen hundreds of times over the past 10 years.

There’s Jimin being dramatic over losing in Mario Kart, Mo-eum being happy just placing higher than him, Hoseok laughing hysterically even if he’s second, and Seokjin cheering for himself as the winner like always. Hayoung and Suhyeon are busy chatting, Yoongi and Namjoon are munching on something while trying to convince Gyu-rim that it’s still possible to find a decent man in their thirties, and Taehyung is at the center, singing opera just because.

But once they see you, they stop what they’re doing, accept the hug you always give them, and ask you how you are. Even the not-so-affectionate ones have learned to give in. It’s the perk of being everyone’s baby, you think.

Being the youngest of five kids and with large age gaps with your siblings, it was natural for you to seek and receive affection from your friends, just as it was natural for them to take care of you. That’s mostly because you’re clumsy and clueless about many things, and you’re used to convenience and being looked after.

It’s nothing they’ve ever complained about, and you’re just glad that you found people who genuinely love caring for you.

Taehyung gives you the tightest hug instead of the headlock he greeted you with the last time. You’re still not used to his large arms wrapping around you, but the warmth hasn’t changed. He bulked up for his role in that West End production, and somehow he got even bigger since the last time you saw him, which was four months ago when you went to London to watch his play.

The welcome of Jungkook is a lot less doting than yours. Even if he’s the youngest amongst everyone, they know he doesn’t require the same affection as you do.

In fact, they depend on him more than anyone, and it always amuses you how, despite being the baby of his family as well, he developed life skills that allow him to naturally figure things out. Perhaps it’s his being a teacher but he’s always been like this since you met him - an all-rounder who seems to know what to do in every situation.

It’s not long after when Yoongi suggests you should all get going. It’s a two-hour drive to Chungbuk, after all, and it’s predicted to rain on your way there.

You get in Jungkook’s SUV with Jimin and Mo-eum while the older ones get in two other cars. Taehyung delivers a bag of food to the others before he takes the seat behind you. He hands you a roll of gimbap that his mother had made, and you pop pieces in your mouth while holding the container out for Jungkook to eat while he drives.

Despite the long day and each one of you having full time jobs, the ride is still filled with banter and karaoke sessions. Taehyung has to referee when you and Mo-eum butt heads with Jungkook and Jimin, as the boys always like to tease and push your buttons.

All that is temporary though, as at the end of the day, you stick to each other like glue. The five of you always opt to sleep together in one room or one suite and in this case, one cabin, even if you have to make adjustments with the sleeping arrangements.

“So…” Jungkook starts, his eyes darting from one end of the cabin to the other. “Us boys are definitely not gonna fit in that.”

The bed by the window is the larger of the two, but it’s still too small for the three of them, not with their build and ways of sleeping. It’s a situation you’ve had before, so you go with your backup combination.

“Jimin can sleep with me and Mo-eum,” you state. “Kook, you and Tae can take the loft bed.”

“Sure, that works,” Jungkook nods.

He looks around and appreciates the coziness of your lodging for the weekend. It’s definitely fancier than a tent, but it also just houses the basic necessities. There’s a small table right by the door with three stools and a small kitchen counter and refrigerator across from it. The bathroom is surprisingly spacious though, and he can already guess that’s one reason why you chose this property. He forgot to point out earlier that small bathrooms also drive you nuts.

Next to you, Jimin groans and warns that if you hit him in your sleep again like you’d done before, he’s gonna push you in the river. You can only smile innocently, as not hurting him is a promise you’re unsure you’ll be able to keep.

After that’s settled, you meet up with the rest of your friends outside. The seven of them have split up in two other cabins - Seokjin and Hayoung with the girls in one, and the rest of the boys in another. They’ve also just put away their things and it’s time to get dinner going.

Everyone gets to their tasks like clockwork - some are organising all the groceries in the cupboards, some are chopping up ingredients, and some are building the fire. You, Namjoon, and Taehyung - the designated cleaners - decide you’ll at least try to be useful and start assembling the camping chairs.

You surprisingly find it quite therapeutic. Between the scent of rain that just stopped and the sounds of nature, there’s something that feels so healing about doing all this with your friends.

Sure, it’s smoky. The ground is a tad bit soft from the downpour earlier, too. And the bugs are having a party everywhere, causing you to shriek every time one of them gets near you.

But there’s chatter and laughter and anticipation. There’s this calmness despite the chaos, and it’s all this that you’ve missed this past year.

Driving out of town to get away during school breaks was a thing you all did during your university days. When the five of you finally graduated and joined the rest of your friends in full-time adulting, the trips became less. Post-work drinks and weekend hangouts were frequent, but it was difficult to align everyone’s schedules for something that was more than a day.

Taehyung was the one who made sure they still happened somehow, even if it was every couple of months. It’s the first time you’re all complete after a year and a half, and the last trip you had was before he flew out.

Having this again after so long feels like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. It’s as if you don’t feel like you have to carry all your burdens on your own. And seeing your friends’ smiling faces despite their respective high-stress jobs, you know they feel the same way, too.

Your sentimental thoughts are disturbed by Jimin yelling for someone to get something before he disappears into your cabin. You still follow him inside to find out what he needs, learning then that he’s back in the bathroom for the second time since you arrived.

“What does he want?” You ask Jungkook, who stands by the tiny kitchen.

“I asked Jimin to get me gochujang from the guys but he, well… he’s got some business to do,” he laughs. “Can you get it for me, please?”

You nod in response then tease your best friend about not clogging the toilet before you get the condiment from the resident cooks outside. You return to the cabin and watch Jungkook skillfully mix a bunch of things in a pot.

“What’s that for?” You ask next to him.

“We’ll fry chicken later for dinner number two and this is the sauce,” he answers.

“Oh,” you nod. “It smells good. And spicy.”

He sees your slightly nervous face then reassures you that he’ll set aside some for you and Taehyung before adding more chili, knowing your low tolerance for heat. You smile in response, and wanting to know if it’s manageable for you, Jungkook scoops some for you to try.

You take the teaspoon he hands out and taste it. You let it linger before deciding it’s something you can definitely eat.

“Does it need anything else?” He asks.

“Uh,” you trail, your eyes darting from him to the sauce, clearly clueless if there’s more he needs to add, but you act like you’re trying to figure it out.

He tastes it himself.

“Sugar,” he states, then looks at you with a slight smirk. “That’s what you were gonna say, right?”

“Totally,” you lie, but he sees right through you and laughs.

It’s a Jungkook thing, you think - to tease and be a bit cheeky but never overdoing it.

He sets aside a mound of sauce in a bowl before adding more chili powder in the pot that the rest of them will have. He chills them all then says he’ll help prep the rest of the chicken outside and you follow him out. It’s the same time that Jimin opens the door and you fake gag to his face before asking him if he’s okay.

“My tummy’s been a bit weird since this morning,” he groans.

“Take something before it gets worse,” you advise. “Ask Mo-eum. Surely the paramedic would know what to give you, right?”

He nods, and you already feel bad for him with this rough start to the weekend. But you stay with Jimin the whole night. He hates having to skip on the pajeon and chicken because they’re too oily, but you give him half your share of the kimchi stew to make up for it. You also know it’s his favorite.

You serve him water whenever he runs out, and even if he was told to pass up on alcohol tonight, you let him take sips of your beer just so he doesn’t completely miss out. You wrap a blanket around him so he doesn’t get too cold, and he sweetly smiles at you and comments how nice you are to him.

“It’s my apology in advance in case I unconsciously hurt you later,” you sweetly smile back.

Everyone laughs, knowing that’s not far from happening.

The night goes on with the bright stars in the sky and the crackling of the fire pit while you all take turns washing up.

It’s close to midnight when you’ve finally settled in bed, with Jimin laying in between you and Mo-eum. You lost rock-paper-scissors so you’re on the outer side of the bed, even if you argue that you’re more likely to fall off it because you definitely cannot stay in one position when you sleep.

But you’re required to honor the results of the game so you stay on your side, your left arm and leg wrapped around Jimin’s side. Despite the possibility of you pulling him along if you do fall, your best friend lets you; he knows you can’t sleep without hugging something.

Mo-eum lays fetus-curled on Jimin’s right, and both of you have your eyes on his screen as he goes through TikToks that have you three in controlled giggles. You shush them when Jimin snorts, as he sends one of the videos to your group chat. Just then, you hear Jungkook control his laughter from the loft bed, too, prompting you all to laugh even harder.

“Go to bed, you weirdos,” he groans, trying his best to just get to sleep.

“You’re just jealous you’re missing out on the fun down here,” you tease, turning around to stick your tongue at him.

He shakes his head at you.

“Yup, talk about fun when you can’t get your ass off the bed in a few hours,” he counters, making a face before lying back down.

Jungkook starts to do breathing exercises, following the rhythm of Taehyung’s soft snores next to him. It works, as the next thing Jungkook remembers is waking up to his alarm at 5 in the morning.

He nudges the man next to him then heads down the ladder to wash up before your morning activity.

He’s caught in surprise when he finds Jimin sitting on the stool, holding a bottle of Soju on his nose.

“What the heck happened to you?” Jungkook asks.

Jimin groans and turns towards the bed with angry eyes.

“She did.”

Jungkook chuckles because much as he expected this, it’s still funny when it happens.

“Was it her fist or her elbow?”

“Her elbow,” Jimin sighs. “That woman doesn’t even exercise. I don’t know where her strength comes from! Ugh, I should’ve made her sleep in the loft with you instead.”

“And be the one to get smacked on the face? No, thanks.”

“Your nose can handle it,” Jimin teases.

The younger man bends his arm to fake slap his friend who’s nursing a possibly bruised nose. But that’s one of the things Jungkook is thankful for - not being your go-to bed mate, which saves him from any possible injury to his face or any other part of his body. You’ve claimed many of your friends already, and he still doesn’t know how you’re able to do all that in your sleep.

Seokjin and Hoseok enter your cabin to yell that there’s 10 minutes left until you all have to leave for the hike to the nearby mountain in time for the sunrise. You’re the last one off the bed because you were in such deep sleep that it feels like you’re still dreaming.

You’re oblivious to the damage you caused, as you half-mindedly do your morning routine and dress up appropriately for this chilly morning. It’s when you notice Jimin’s slightly red nose and his angry eyes that you realise you might’ve unknowingly done something last night, and his growl when you ask him if he’s okay is your confirmation of that fact.

You try to make it up to him with hugs and a reminder that you’d taken care of him last night but he’s still sore and you’re still sorry.

He dramatically narrates what happened on your way to the mountain, and while most of your friends are laughing because it’s just an insane yet predictable thing to happen, you actually feel bad for him.

Jimin pretends to not care about you during the hike. He stays ahead of the pack instead of walking side-by-side with you because he knows that things like this bore you and you need him to feel entertained.

But not today, as you see him laughing about with Gyu-rim and Suhyeon while you’re stuck at the back of the pack with Yoongi who’s still half asleep and Mo-eum who’s so lost in her surroundings that she barely notices you, even when you trip on stones or shriek because of the bugs.

You groan to yourself.

You love sunrises and pretty skies. You’re just not particularly fond of the early wake up call and long walks you have to make to see them at their best.

Plus, you’re sweating. And because of the energy you’re exerting, you’re starting to feel hot, too. You take a deep breath and try to rein in all your negative aura so you could release them because being annoyed is not how you want to spend this beautiful morning.

You exhale all that and it comes out as another groan.

“I didn’t know you hated hiking that bad,” a teasing voice calls you out. “You could just stay here and wait for us to come back down. That’s an option.”

“Hey, that’s mean,” you pout and try to give your best puppy eyes to the man who’s now leveled himself with you.

“Of course I’m kidding,” Jungkook shakes his head.

He pulls your wrist to continue on the walk, and that’s when you realise that everyone else has gone ahead. And just as your eyes widen in shock that they had indeed left you behind, Jungkook gets to it first and explains that the back group was waiting for you but he insisted that they go ahead so as not to miss the sunrise in case you opt to not continue.

“No one leaves anyone behind, you know that,” he says. “And for the record, Jimin was the one asking if you were okay and then ordered me to check on you and make sure you get to the top on time. So yes, he’s worried even if he’s still upset that you elbowed his nose. Especially since Joon accidentally hit it with his backpack.”

You stop yourself from laughing because Jimin just really can’t catch a break, but you also truly feel bad for him that he has to suffer in more ways than he deserves.

“Fine. Drag me up this mountain, then. My legs will give up soon,” you grunt.

“Stay upright for me, yeah? I don’t really plan on carrying your ass all the way up there,” he chuckles.

You make a face and he just laughs again, then proceeds to take the bag off your back and swings it over his shoulder.

You make it to the top in time, just before the sun begins its slow ascent up the sky. It’s much cooler at the peak and the thick fog covers the quaint town below. It’s much more peaceful here, too, and you embrace the tranquility alongside your friends, as the view has left everyone speechless. You snap some photos - enough to remind you of the moment - and then settle on a rock to watch the sky change its colors.

“So pretty, isn’t it?” Hayoung sighs in awe as she sits next to you. “Just like the ones our grandparents would drive us to see.”

“I’m sure they’re enjoying this from up there,” you smile in response, recalling your summers in their home with the rest of your cousins, when life was simpler and you didn’t have responsibilities that weighed you down.

Once the sun has found its place above the clouds, you all gather on a flat area of the mountain and get your portions of the rice cake soup that Seokjin and Yoongi prepared this morning. Coffee is passed around and Jimin is the one who hands you your cup. He sits next to you and shows you your work of art on his face, and you both decide that having Mo-eum’s curled body in between is the best option on your last night. She fortunately agrees.

It’s close to 8AM when you get back to the cabins, as all of you took much longer on the hike down. It’s an hour of hanging outside and by the river before you’re all driving out into town for some lunch. The nearby market had you buying fruits and clams for tonight’s dinner while your ATV ride in the afternoon had you squealing in both excitement and fear.

It was your first time driving on your own, and after Jungkook had taught you which buttons to press, he drove away at maximum speed. Much as you nag him for his risky tendencies when it comes to things like this, you’ll admit it was refreshing hearing him scream in exhilaration.

All your friends like to have fun and that includes you. It’s why you go on trips like this - to try new things and get your heart racing, maybe live on the edge a little and sustain that passion for life that you all promised each other you’d find and live out outside of your respective careers that you put your whole selves into.

Adulting, you’ve learned, is about maintaining that part of yourself that still finds joy in changing seasons and pink-colored skies. It’s about carrying out your responsibilities while parking them on the side for a weekend over good food and bottles of beer. It’s about planning for the next 10 years while living in the moment. It’s not easy, but perhaps you’re able to do it because you all have each other.

And so watching Namjoon’s tense face relax in enjoyment, seeing a timid Suhyeon let go a little, and hearing Seokjin and Hayoung giggle in their shared ride are things that give you energy, because you know they’re enjoying this moment right here with you.

You finish right before sunset and return to your accommodation exhausted yet still somehow refreshed. There’s less to do now, as much of your dinner is grilled meat and seafood, so Jungkook suggests watching Halloween on the outdoor projector. It’s one of the features of the property that you were excited about, but you didn’t really consider a slasher movie for your last night in the forest.

No one else seems to do so aside from Jungkook, who insists that it’s all part of the fun. While a part of you thinks this is a stupid idea, you also don’t know what else could be more perfect than a thriller film in this environment. So you support him and it’s not long after when you find yourselves in front of the screen, with plates of meat and clams, bowls of rice, and cups of ramyeon around you.

There were definitely jump scares and men and women alike shrieking, either because of the movie or some sound from the woods. Seokjin dropped his can of beer more than once, and Hoseok gave up midway and hid behind Namjoon for the rest of the movie. You were seated next to Jimin on the outdoor couch and yelled in his ear several times that he banned you from being close to him for the rest of the night.

It’s how you found yourself next to Jungkook on the picnic bench where he was so unbothered while you cussed out every time you were surprised, either because of the movie or because of him. Which was many times.

Your heart is pumping by the end of it but you admit it was still fun. It’s the kind of stress you don’t mind feeling every once in a while.

It seems that everyone else felt the same, as the reactions and string of curses somehow made up for the unexpected horror of the night. Naturally, you all gather towards the fire pit.

The air is chilly and despite the tension from earlier, everyone seems relaxed and at peace. Conversations go from Seokjin and Hayoung’s wedding plans, to Taehyung’s audition clip that he sent for a Broadway production in New York, to Jimin’s recent blind date. The latter topic leads to Gyu-rim stating how hard it is to date in her thirties, an exchange she was having just a day ago.

“You literally just turned 30,” Yoongi nudges her knee. “You have a decade to go before you can be sure it’s really that difficult.”

“Well, I don’t have that many options to start with,” she counters. “You’re my only friends. People at work are shit. And my mom’s friends’ sons are either too young or too old.”

“Don’t you have that cute neighbor?” Mo-eum asks. “Or what about the owner of your favorite cafe? Doesn’t he leave little smiley faces on your cup every morning? Or the guy from the gym!”

“Well, the cute neighbor orders so much beer and chicken, it might be an obsession. And the cafe owner might just be flirting with all his female customers with doodles, who knows? And gym dude with nice hair talks to his mom all the time. That’s not exactly a green flag.”

“Now you’re just projecting,” Namjoon states. “You’re calling out red or yellow flags that might not actually mean anything, and you’re only doing that because–”

“I dated someone with a weird food habit, liked someone who turned out to be a serial cheater, and got dumped because this guy’s mom told him to,” Gyu-rim finishes. “In short, you never really know something’s wrong until it goes wrong, and when it does, it sucks like hell.”

“That’s why you get to know someone,” Yoongi says. “You date and then learn things about them and then break up if you don’t like what you see. You know they’re the one when you like them despite it all.”

“It’s just too much effort,” your older friend sighs. “And yes, I know that’s what relationships are supposed to be about but like, I want to work on communication and learning how to understand someone… not accepting some ick or skeletons in the closet type of shit. Those are things I want to know before I decide I’d like to date them.”

“Well, I guess it’s hard when there’s no one to vouch for them,” Suhyeon chimes in. “I mean, we knew Seokjin’s a good guy because we’ve known him for years. It wasn’t hard for either him nor Hayoung to make that decision about dating. Maybe that’s what makes it hard at this age and our prospects are people we barely know anything about. You’re kinda going into it blindly.”

Her words feel like a slap on the face to you, something Suhyeon is totally unaware of because these are the questions you’ve been having about your own past relationships that just live in your mind.

Your exes have been people you dated shortly after meeting them. The attraction was immediate and when two people gravitate towards each other that intensely so soon, it usually means something really special. Somehow you thought that feelings that strong and that certain meant you could overlook the flaws and imperfections of the other person.

Both times you were wrong. And while you’re glad you got out before you got in too deep, both times you still wondered if it would’ve worked out if you just held on a little longer, or if it would’ve even started had you known fully what you were getting into.

But the unknown excites you, at least when it comes to relationships. It’s kind of like research - you learn a bit about the person, make a hypothesis, then test it. You could be totally off mark or very close to it. Still, the process is always different. It keeps you on your toes because you don’t know what to expect even if, ironically, you already had an idea of what you wanted out of it in the beginning.

Perhaps that was your undoing - focusing on the high, anticipating the excitement of being right, then copping out when it wasn’t what you expected.

It’s not something you’ll say out loud though, at least not right now.

So you stay comfortable in your seat with a jacket over your tired body. You listen to your elders with two years more experience hash out what went wrong in their past relationships, and if they think they’ll end up settling for someone they know or are comfortable with, just for the sake of having a companion in this life.

It gives Jimin the opportunity to pitch to Yoongi and Gyu-rim this “40 and still single” pact, where they should just date if they don’t have anyone by that age, but both of them just look at him incredulously and shake their heads.

For some reason, your best friend is an advocate of friends-to-lovers type of stories even if he goes on blind dates all the time. He’s said he believes in it for other people but not really for himself. You share a mind like that - intense feelings from the onset are genuine and unmistakable. Sometimes you meet someone and immediately just know. You may have been wrong both times but it doesn’t mean you’ll always be wrong.

Who knows? Your future husband might be on a camping trip in some lakeside area not far from here, and you meet him in a chance encounter and things pick up from there. Suddenly the thought excites you again, but it’s something you keep to yourself.

You all make a toast to your existent and non-existing love lives. It’s enough to keep the energy hopeful until you all decide to retire for the night.

You lay in bed with thoughts suspended in your mind, just like the stars spread across the sky. Your eyes wander to their twinkling lights as you stare out the skylight.

That is, until you hear a voice whispering your name. You look upward, towards the left, and there’s Jungkook and his head peeking from the loft bed’s railing.

“Can’t sleep?” He asks.

You shake your head in response.

“Got any tips?” You ask, the tiredness hitting you once again.

“Tense your muscles and then relax them slowly. Do your 4-7-8,” he instructs. “Works like magic.”

“You’re just tricking me into making weird faces,” you frown.

“You do that even without me saying it, ___,” he chuckles. “Just try. You’re thinking too hard, I can almost see the thought bubbles appearing over your head.”

You roll your eyes this time but you follow his advice. You feel your muscles loosen and that does something to your brain, as if it, too, is relaxing on its own. And it works.

The next thing you know, your eyes are opening to the sun’s bright light, and there’s those same doe-eyes from last night, somehow content because maybe even he can see it - you had a really good sleep.

You wait for your mind to fully wake up while you curl under the covers. Mo-eum’s in the same position as she was last night and Jimin seems to be peaceful and unhurt. That appeases you at least. Up in the loft, you can see Taehyung already taking up the empty space next to him.

The bathroom door opens and Jungkook exits with his hair sprout bouncing as he walks, prompting you to giggle.

“What’s funny?” He asks with furrowed brows.

“You look like a baby with your hair,” you say.

“It won’t go down,” he groans, attempting once more to flatten the top of his head.

“Just tie the whole thing then. At least it’ll be intentional.”

“Yeah, so you can make fun of me some more?”

“Maybe,” you playfully shrug.

He walks towards you and flicks your forehead, and you try to kick him without disturbing the two people still asleep next to you. But Jungkook, like the athlete that he is, manages to grab your foot wrapped in your blanket before it hits him, and now you’re his hostage.

You glare at him - half pleading and half threatening - but he just makes a face at you. His grip on your heel is a little hard but it seems like it’s what you need, as the hike from yesterday morning has your leg and feet feeling a little sore.

“Hmm, Kook. Massage it please,” you moan, pushing your limb towards him.

“Only if you massage mine.”

“But I don’t wanna touch your toe socks,” you whine.

“Hey. Don’t be mean to them,” he frowns, eventually giving in as he starts massaging your calf.

“It’s just funny. That’s what my nephew wears. And he’s four,” you giggle.

“Toe socks know no age, you brat,” he says. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Your chuckle turns to another groan at the expert way he kneads your muscles. You could easily fall asleep with this, but just when you think you’re about to, Jungkook pinches your leg and you cover your mouth before you yell out your expletives.

He giggles in that child-like way he does when he teases, and all you could do is glare at him. But he makes it up to you with another minute of massaging, and you softly smile at him in thanks.

“So, no incidents last night?” He asks, gesturing towards your bedmates.

“None, although I think Jimin went to the bathroom again in the middle of the night,” you respond, raising your arm for Jungkook to pull so you could get the energy to get out of bed.

“Poor guy,” he shakes his head. “Goes on a trip only to get hit in the nose and get a stomach bug.”’

You shake your head at the absurdity of things but then again, if there’s anyone who’d roll with the punches and even laugh at his own misery, it’s Jimin. That’s always been the kind of optimism and easygoing energy you need in your life.

You and Jungkook head outside to make coffee. You’re one of the first ones awake even if you were both probably the last ones to fall asleep last night. It’s your last day here and you want to savor as much of the air and the tranquility as much as possible.

You sit next to him on the picnic bench and watch him pour hot water over the filter for the drip coffee, alternating between your cup and his. The scent is relaxing, so is the cool breeze. You shift your body to be parallel to the seat, and with your head on his shoulder, you stretch your legs and arms out to try to get a bit of sun.

“Wow, you got yourself a coffee maker and a makeshift lounge chair,” he huffs. “Let’s not forget a driver.”

“I’m photosynthesizing. You always tell me to get my vitamin D,” you explain. “And also, I’ll make it up to you. I’ll treat you to a really nice meal, I promise.”

“Why, what else do you need?”

“A ride to this event I need to attend in Cheonan. On Saturday. Please?”

You turn to him with your best attempt at puppy eyes.

“My car won’t be ready for another two weeks and I don’t wanna stress over how to get there since, uh, since I’m a panelist for a session. And it’s my first time to speak to a large audience about my research and I’m starting to freak about it and–”

“What! ___, of course I’ll drive you! That’s huge!” Jungkook exclaims.

You don’t miss his proud smile and the excitement in his eyes, and it somehow makes it all so real.

“Why aren’t we celebrating that this weekend, then?” He asks. “I wouldn’t have risked you getting attacked by bugs during the hike had I known.”

“Because I’m so nervous and talking about it makes me even more nervous,” you explained. “Mo-eum convinced me to not think about it this weekend because I’ve been stressing about it like crazy so I’ve just been trying to keep my mind off it to calm myself down.”

“And is it working?”

“Surprisingly, it has,” you nod. “I’ve had my talking points ready for a month now. I’ve been practicing for weeks. I had to be intentional in really switching off this weekend and it’s helped. It only entered my mind because the warehouse messaged me earlier about my car needing another few days in there so I’ve just been thinking about how to get to the venue after my field work in the morning.”

“Sure. I was just gonna stay at home and play games but a drive south isn’t bad,” he says. “I can stay around and drive you back home, too.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, relieved at not having to worry about your commute at night.

“Yeah. I mean, you did mention a really nice meal, so…”

“I did,” you laugh. “My session’s in the afternoon and I won’t stay long after. We can grab dinner on the way back.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Thanks, Kook. I would’ve asked Jimin but he’s got an important shoot and Mo-eum’s on duty,” you reason.

“Being a third option isn’t bad,” he chuckles. “So if you’ve been successful in keeping your mind off it, does it mean that’s not why you were so quiet last night? You barely spoke after the movie.”

“You mean when we were talking about failed relationships and possibly being single for the rest of our lives?” You laugh dryly.

“Well, it’s what twenty and thirty-somethings worry about. You were rambling about that in the car the other night,” he reminds you.

“True. Let’s just say when I’m around more experienced and mature people, I prefer to just listen and reflect,” you say.

“And what did you reflect on?”

“Just things I’ve already thought of before,” you shrug, somewhat ready to verbalize them now. “I get intense and excited when I have a new relationship and I overthink but at the same time, I don’t think at all. It’s nice and fun then I see something I don’t like then I just… get out of it. I think what got to me was what Suhyeon said about going into it blindly,” you continue.

“Like, we enter a relationship with someone we’re interested in because we want to get to know them but we don’t know if we’ll actually like the person we’ll get to know. Kind of tricky, right? I mean, do we date to get to know them, or do we date them because we already know them?”

“Does it even matter?” Jungkook asks. “We have to make the decision to stay if we want it enough either way.”

“Even if we don’t like certain things about them?”

“Depends on what you can tolerate. Or what you think you deserve,” he replies, his tone a little weary at the memories rushing in. “We don’t really know anyone well enough. A friend or a colleague or whatever becomes a different version of themselves when they become your lover and you have to deal with that, and then stick around or walk away.”

Jungkook’s face falls and you apologize for bringing it up, knowing it’s quite a touchy subject.

“We’ve talked about this before. It’s nothing new,” he assures you. “You don’t have to feel sorry. Joo-yun went from pursuing me one day to deciding she didn’t want me in her life the next, and then imposing some shitty deadline. And Si-an, well, you know how that went.”

You and Jungkook don’t have deep conversations that often. You tend to reserve your deepest thoughts and feelings for your best friends and he was never really the type to talk about his. He was with Joo-yun for the most part of university so you spent more time with the other guys. She was also the jealous type so you always found yourself being cautious around Jungkook when she was there.

But you remember when he opened up about the breakup, on the night of your graduation. You all slept over at the Kims’ residence and you, Jungkook, and Jimin stayed up until dawn, just talking about your shared pain over soju and beer.

Joo-yun wanted to go abroad and didn’t want to have a long distance relationship, so she told Jungkook they could only see each other until they graduated, which was three months away. He broke it off right then. It was in the same month when you broke it off with Jeong-su after your nth fight over your busy schedule.

Three years after that, you were saying goodbye to your shared apartment with Mo-eum and starting a new role at the research firm. Everyone was at your place to celebrate. It was when you casually said that you’d broken up with Seungho - the guy who worked at your building and that you pined for two weeks before you asked him out. It was also when Jungkook had drunkenly shared that he broke up with Si-an the night before because he caught her cheating on him. You let him stay over then drove him to his place the next morning. He never really talked about her after that.

Your mind drifts to those years. They feel so far away even if some of the thoughts and feelings from that time still linger. Breakups are never easy but somehow you always manage to get over them quite easily. You suppose it’s the insecurity and self-doubt that follows that you couldn’t really move on from.

“So on both times, did you break up with them because you knew what you deserved?” You ask Jungkook.

“Thinking back, I tolerated them longer than I should have,” he hums. “Joo-yun was a bit controlling at times and I always just justified her tendencies in my head. I think she wanted me to beg her not to leave or to take me with her but I didn’t. And that hurt her pride so she lashed out then I broke it off.”

“I always felt like she dimmed your shine,” you sigh. “You’d turn quiet and not be your bratty, fearless, dumb self. It was kinda sad.”

They’re terms of endearment you always use with the younger guys. Jungkook knows this, and he agrees. He also agrees with your observation because it was true. He couldn’t joke around or have fun around his friends when she was there. She dimmed his light like you said. No one ever really put it into words like that.

“And Si-an was just foolish,” you add. “I have so many other mean words for her so I’ll just shut up.”

So does he so he laughs in response.

“For the record, Jeong-su was too up in his ass and too lazy to make time for you, and Seungho rubbed me the wrong way,” Jungkook says now. “Not acknowledging waitstaff is a red flag to me.”

“I agree,” you smile, knowing that unlike Jimin and Taehyung who always had a field day shitting on your exes - and for good reason - Jungkook isn’t the type to say things like that unless he feels it intensely.

There’s a brief moment of both of you drifting away while sipping your coffee until the cabin door opens. Your three roommates exit and start bringing out fruits and cold cuts for snacks before your morning trip to the lake. Soon enough, the others gather around your table, too, and the somber mood from earlier immediately switches to something more lively and positive.

And you’re glad it does. You’re not used to seeing Jungkook dispirited or looking dejected over a memory and you try to erase that from your mind by taking a good look at him this time.

Donned in his black sweatpants, oversized shirt, and a bucket hat, sometimes you forget he’s a 28-year old man who does teaching for a living, only because anyone could easily mistake him for being one of the students. But that’s his charm, you learned over the years.

There’s something so relatable and wholesome about him. It’s in how he pokes your puffed cheeks full of watermelons and in how he chases a frog that’s hopping towards the other side.

Yet he’s also dependable and possesses this certain level of maturity. It’s in the way he prepared coffee then unfolded the camping chairs for the rest of your friends earlier. He’s pure-hearted even if he’s cheeky and playful, as he now asks you to collect stones with him so you could both make a tower and make a wish for your peace of mind and his students’ win and for the toxins to be removed from Jimin’s body so he could eat properly today.

You let that image of Jungkook linger because seeing your friends happy makes you happy, too. It’s what this trip is about, anyway, regardless of the thoughts that plague your mind.

You take the mid-morning drive to a lake to kayak. It’s the perfect day for it, as the skies are in a stunning shade of blue and the clouds look overwhelmingly soft and pure.

Hoseok and Yoongi, who aren’t fond of the water, sit out. The rest of you play rock-paper-scissors on who gets to ride solo and in pairs.

To Jungkook’s dismay, he ends up getting paired with you.

“We literally had a heartwarming conversation earlier and now you’re acting like your life is cursed because you’re riding a kayak with me,” you scowl at him.

“___, I might as well be rowing alone because you suck at it. And now I have to do it with more weight,” he complains.

“Yah!” You smack his arm. “I’m not that bad.”

“You barely made it past the dock the last time we did this,” he deadpans.

“And that was five years ago. People can always improve, you know?”

He deep sighs and frowns at you to the entertainment of your friends, and while you’re a little nervous of what mishap you’ll cause again, you also can’t wait to get in the water and maybe prove to him that you’re not that clueless about things like this.

Except you might actually just be, because not long after you get on the kayak and start paddling, it slowly tips over until it capsizes.

You panic for a moment but manage to get your head out of the water where you’re met with a frustrated Jungkook and a yell of your name. You’d say sorry if you could but you’re halfway through an apologetic smile and a restrained chuckle over how he looks but the latter wins. And you laugh.

“___, Kook!” Jimin, who was just about to get on his kayak, yells out from the dock. “What happened! Are you both okay?”

You turn around where the staff are telling you to swim back and the captain is requesting another boat.

You look back at Jungkook again with his damp hair and his baby boy pout and you try to hold your laughter in again but you just can’t. He looks so upset that it’s actually adorable. It helps keep your mind off the fact that you’re soaking wet and it feels incredibly uncomfortable.

But he finally cracks a smile and he playfully shakes his head before splashing water on your face with his hand.

“Why are you like this, ___?” He groans, but you can tell he’s not upset anymore, even with the way he pulls you by your life vest as you both swim back to dry land.

“I don’t even know what happened,” you exclaim. “Everything was so fast!”

“Your center of gravity was off,” Yoongi explains, as he stands on the edge, helping you up. “And you paddled right away before being stable and then… yeah. Hoseok caught it on video.”

“What!” You shriek, walking to your older friend, with Jungkook following.

Hoseok shows you the clip and even the man behind you can’t stop laughing. One second you were both there and the next, you just disappeared.

Jungkook feels uncomfortable in places but there’s not much he can do now. He just really wants to get back in the water and paddle out there.

You first insist that you’ll just stay behind. When Jimin encourages you to still go because you’ve been excited about this, you then say you’ll just do the individual one so Jungkook can, too, and he can catch up with the rest of your friends who, from a distance, are still laughing.

But like the good friend that he is, he says it’s fine, and that going together means you’ll both actually get somewhere. You just have to let him take control and do what he says. And sit properly.

So you follow his and the instructor’s orders. You keep yourself seated at the center and align your arms, making sure you have a good grip on the paddle and are following Jungkook’s counts. You know you’re not doing as well as he is but he still tells you that you’re doing fine. He’s good at instructing so you find a good rhythm, and soon enough, you catch up with your friends who tease you endlessly.

“It was still funny even from here,” Seokjin teases. “But are you okay? We know how much you hate being soaked in your clothes.”

“I’m dying inside,” you admit. “But yeah, I’m okay. I think Jungkook’s halfway there.”

“I’m good,” he assures you. “At least we get to see the view from here.”

He points towards his right where the scenery of the sun atop the mountains and against the clear skies is so beautiful. You’re definitely a long way from dry land but you feel so stable. It was definitely worth getting back on the kayak despite fearing another tragedy. Jungkook made sure you were okay and that you got to enjoy this, too.

Jimin takes pictures and you all explore some more. Once you’ve seen enough, you paddle back and your friends watch the video and chuckle in amusement. It’s another one of those that’ll come up in your group chat’s memory and you’ve already accepted that it’ll be a story they’ll share and bring up.

“You two get washed and dry up, okay?” Hayoung says. “They have a shower room here and I’ve got towels in the trunk. You can just buy some clothes at the shop right there.”

You follow your cousin’s advice and find the locker rooms. Mo-eum hands you a pair of shorts and a shirt she got from the store then heads out with you where Jimin offers you a cup of fresh juice. Standing by the car is Jungkook with a pair of shorts and the same crab shirt you’re wearing.

“Why’d they have to get us matching clothes?” He laughs as he enters the driver’s seat.

“They probably think it’s cute,” you shrug, taking your seat in the passenger side. “Or it could be a peace pact, I don’t know. I mean, you were getting angry at me earlier after all.”

“I wasn’t angry,” he rolls his eyes. “It’s like, I expected it but I was still surprised you made us fall over. Like, why does it always happen to you?”

“Well, God is fair. He gave me the brains but said, ‘let's also make her dumb.’”

This causes him to laugh.

Jungkook isn’t the type to voice things out but he truly finds you endearing. Even when you’re being clumsy, or asking him to do stuff, or making fun of him, or complaining about a hundred things at once, there’s something so genuine about you. You can get a little intense about things you’re passionate about, which he admires, but you’re also able to roll with the punches and find joy in things once you’ve calmed down.

He pats your head as his form of affection and you smile at him. He finds that endearing, too.

You all make your way back to the cabin to make some lunch. The resident cooks prepare black bean noodles and marinated ribs while the rest of you start packing up. It’s a breezy afternoon despite the sun, and it’s a perfect last meal in the mountains before you do the last thing on your itinerary.

It’s a short trip but you feel like you’ve done so much. It used to be like this during your university days when you’d just drive out to somewhere, do various things in town, soak up nature, and eat your hearts out. There have been changes, too, like preparing your own meals, no longer getting passed out drunk, and spending time just talking and reminiscing. Your respective jobs and other responsibilities don’t give you much time or space to enjoy being around people, and you’ve always found peace and comfort in each other.

It’s not a long drive to the pier where you’ll go on a yacht cruise. It’s a size that comfortably fits all 12 of you, and it’s a perfect last hurrah, as you all lounge by the deck and enjoy the wind and the changing skies. It’s mostly quiet by now, as everyone’s energy has slightly drained, especially with Monday right around the corner.

But it’s still peaceful, as you take in the fresh air and scent of the lake and the seagulls flying about. You let these last few hours be your reprieve, before another week rolls ahead and that panel discussion becomes your reality in a few days.

You watch until the last of the sun disappears, then it’s back to the car for a trip back home, and a dinner at a restaurant as your pitstop.

With your apartment being a 15-minute drive to Jungkook’s without traffic, he offers to take you home. He carries your bag and walks you to your door like the gentleman that he is and with your droopy eyes, he wishes you goodnight with a pat on your head.

“Get some rest, okay?” He smiles. “I’ll see you on Saturday.”

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kaciidubs · 27 days ago

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A-B-C

✧ Summary: Secret baby questions and lazy Sunday afternoons, you wouldn't have it any other way. ✧ ✧ Word Count: 659 ✧ Warnings: Slice of life, fluff, mention of Bubble, pregnancy, Chris is a lovable goofball ✧ ✧ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ✧ ✧ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, and Fiance, Reader is referred to as Fiancee, this could be faintly related to Confiscated, so take that as you will, lightly edited ✧ Stray Kids Masterlist ✧ General Masterlist

| How did you learn the ABC song?

Pursing your lips, you peeked above the top of your phone to stare at the man sitting on the opposite end of the couch, his left hand gently massaging your left ankle as his thumb slid across the screen of his phone.

“Chris, you did not just ask Stays that question.”

His movements stopped, though you could see the bashful smile fighting its way onto his face despite his best efforts of pretending he didn’t hear you.

“Christopher.”

The playful warning in your voice was enough to make him give up the charade as he looked over at you, embarrassed laughter tumbling from him as his eyes creased into half moons.

“What? I’m just trying to get a bigger scope on this to see if there’s actually a huge difference in these things!”

You had just barely crossed over into the third month of your pregnancy, and with that came the casual, increased conversations of your own respective childhoods and what things you would like to incorporate into raising your own little bean. From family traditions and religions, to stances on co-sleeping and methods of potty training, there was almost nothing the two of you haven’t gone over since those two blue lines came into your life.

“Also,” Chris crossed his arms over his chest, peering at you with a raised eyebrow, “why do you still have my bubble?”

It was now your turn to laugh, before reigning it in enough to muster up a dramatic gasp.

“Is it such a crime to want to support my fiance’s career?”

“It is when my fiancee not only pays for my bubble, but my friend’s bubbles, too – as if she’s not already in a group chat with them where they can actually reply directly to her.”

You hummed, nodding and pursing your lips, “Or, you just don’t want me to catch you asking secret baby questions to Stays!”

The dramatics now transferred to him, his hand flying to his chest as his jaw dropped, “Secret baby questions?! Me?! I would never! I’m just having a conversation with Stays that somehow also relates to one we had a few minutes ago – I think that’s more ironic than anything.”

There was a beat of silence as you stared at him, and him back at you, until you both broke out into a fit of laughter; the sounds of your combined silliness bouncing off the living room walls and dancing in the air in notes not even the finest symphony could recreate.

As your laughter simmered into breathless giggles, you watched as Chris wiped tears from his eyes — still in the clutches of the Sunday sillies — and let out a small, happy sigh.

That was the man you opened your heart to, the man who showed you in more ways than one that he would do everything in his power to make sure you felt loved and safe, the man who got down on one knee and thanked you for everything you brought into his life, and the man who subsequently cried when you gave him the wrapped pregnancy test a minute later — the greatest gift exchange either of you could have ever had.

“I love you.”

His glimmering eyes found yours, and whatever remnants of unbridled joy morphed into something warmer, softer, and inexplicably yours.

“I love you, too,” Chris smiled, his dimple pulling at his cheek as his gaze flicked down to the small bump underneath the wrinkles of your t-shirt. “The both of you.”

Blowing him a kiss, you both settled back into your own little worlds with ease; your phone in your hand and his in his own, his left hand massaging your ankle as if nothing had changed — even when you shook with barely contained laughter as yet another Bubble message popped onto your screen.

| I know it as… A B C D E F G H I J K ellemeno P

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @s00buwu, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @bahng-chrizz, @milknhoneyracha, @hann1bee, @palindrome969, @newhope8, @kpopsstuffs, @starquokka, @wolfs-howling, @laylasbunbunny, @4-chan-inpadella, @butterflydemons, @kimahreummm, @ta3baee, @bethanysnow, @skz-smut-reader

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

#bang chan x reader #bang chan fluff #stray kids fluff #skz x reader #stray kids x reader

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orellazalonia · 20 days ago

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Comedic Relief

Summary: After overhearing teammates call you the "comic relief" and question your seriousness, you begin to doubt your place on the team despite being a genius in disguise. Bucky finds you spiraling in your lab, reminds you of your brilliance, and confesses how deeply he values and loves you. (Bucky Barnes x chaotic!reader)

Word Count: 1.4k+

A/N: Wanted something angsty. I also debated having them run away temporarily and having Bucky find them first, but I liked how this turned out in the end. Happy reading!!!

Main Masterlist | Earth’s Mightiest Headache Masterlist

You weren’t supposed to hear it.

Honestly, you never meant to. You were crawling through the ceiling vent to test your portable gravity-altering boots as one does and accidentally dropped into the hallway by the training center. You didn’t land gracefully. You bounced. Twice.

No one noticed.

You were about to make a dramatic entrance to demand “scientific respect and perhaps a sandwich” when your name floated through the crack of the door.

“She’s just… not serious,” One of the rookies was saying. “I know she’s smart, obviously, but it’s like, can you trust her in a real op? Last week she got distracted mid-mission because she thought the enemy base’s reactor looked ‘like a sexy espresso machine.’”

You could hear someone chuckle before another added, “Yeah, and she asked Fury if ‘thermonuclear’ was a made-up word.”

You blinked. That was a joke. You knew what thermonuclear meant. You’d accidentally built a thermonuclear coffee machine last year that tried to launch itself into low orbit. They made you name it and put it in a SHIELD containment box.

“Honestly, she’s more of the comic relief, you know?” Another said. “Like, she’s the team mascot. Not really part of the brain or someone you should trust.”

You weren’t sure what part of you tensed first. Maybe it was your jaw, your spine, or your heart. It wasn’t a new feeling. Not really. It was just louder this time. More final. Heavier.

Mascot.

The word stuck to you like wet concrete.

You backed away before you could hear any more of the conversation, suddenly hyperaware of every squeak of your boots and every stupid joke you’d ever made this week. The “avocado bomb” prank on Steve. The trivia challenge you crushed but then celebrated by pronouncing “Columbus” as “Co-LUMB-us.” The marble run you built through the ventilation system that made the whole compound sound like a wind chime when it rained.

God. Was that all they saw?

You didn’t go to dinner. You didn’t reply in the group chat, even when Sam tagged you and asked why Bucky was sulking in the corner muttering “Where is she?” like a pissed-off gargoyle.

You didn’t even remember walking back to the lab. Your feet had carried you here on autopilot to your safe place, your mess, your cathedral of chaos and half-finished thoughts.

You locked the door behind you, not that anyone ever came in uninvited. Not unless Bucky had something to smuggle in for you (usually food or a weapon you weren’t technically cleared to modify). Not unless Tony wanted to gawk at your entropy.

The lab lights flickered on automatically. You winced at the brightness.

You moved like a ghost, almost afraid to touch anything. Your hands hovered above your desk, your workbench, the tower of half-functional prototypes stacked like a junkyard Jenga tower. You didn’t sit. You just stared at the avalanche of yourself. Your weird, brilliant, overwhelming mind spilled out across surfaces. Wires like spaghetti. Notes written in both formulae and doodles. Gel pens next to soldering irons. A circuit board shaped like a cat.

It all looked… childish. Stupid.

What were you even doing?

You finally collapsed into your chair, spinning once, twice, then fast enough that the corners of the room blurred. You kicked off the counter and made a loop around the floor, feet dragging. The motion didn’t help. If anything, it amplified the static in your chest.

Mascot.

You blinked hard, squeezing your temples. “No. No no no. Shut up. We’re not doing this today.”

You spun to your desk. Grabbed a marker. Scrawled something on the board.

atomic weight of hydrogen: 1.00784 u. bananas are a lie. you don’t need potassium that bad. you matter. you matter. you matter.

You stared at it for a long time. Then erased “you matter” so hard the whiteboard squeaked. Your hand kept going long after the words were gone. Until it hurt.

You stood. Paced a little more. Opened a drawer. Slammed it shut. You tugged at the sleeves of your hoodie, pacing faster now, muttering in a half joking, half begging, yet all unraveling way. “Who the hell builds a weather balloon to see if birds migrate better with Taylor Swift playing on a speaker? Who sets a toast-loving AI loose in the kitchen and calls it a ‘learning moment’ when it sets off four smoke alarms?”

You knocked into your shelf, and something clattered. You didn’t catch it. You didn’t care.

You backed into your chair and sank again, hands braced on your knees like gravity got heavier just for you. Your eyes burned.

“They’re right,” You said quietly. “I’m a joke. A distraction. They keep me around because it’s easier than telling me to leave.”

Somewhere behind you, the electronic calendar chimed softly:

Reminder: Tell Bucky you love him. (He already knows, but say it anyway.)

Your throat closed up.

You covered your face with both hands and curled forward, trembling. The quiet buzz of your machines felt deafening. You had built this place, crafted it like a cocoon, a temple, a home. Now it felt like a parody of genius.

You didn’t hear the knock at the door. Or the creak as it opened.

But you felt it when Bucky entered, his presence like a storm and a lighthouse all at once. Steady. Warm. Wordless.

He stood there for a moment. Watching. Taking in the wreckage. You hadn’t noticed the tears on your face until he knelt in front of you and reached up, thumb brushing just below your eye. He didn’t say anything right away. He just held you.

You weren’t even sure when your body had folded into his. One moment, you were curled in on yourself, vibrating with self-loathing, and the next, your face was buried in the crook of his neck and his arms were wrapped around you like armor. Like he could physically keep the world out if he just held on tight enough.

You gripped the front of his henley like it was the only solid thing left. It smelled like coffee and the soap he never admitted to stealing from Steve.

“I thought you were joking when you said you could feel my breakdowns in your soul,” You whispered, voice raw.

“I can,” He murmured against your hair. “Like a bat signal but sadder.”

You let out a broken sound, half sob, half laugh.

His metal hand rubbed slow, careful circles on your back; warm from the adaptive heat plates he let you install. The other hand cradled your head like you were fragile, which only made the cracks inside you widen. He never looked at you like you were fragile. Not until now.

“They think I’m a joke,” You mumbled into his chest. “They think I’m just the team jester with a few fun facts and a death wish.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“They’re not wrong.”

Bucky pulled back just enough to look at you, not with pity, but with fire.

“You built a quantum drive in a toaster oven,” He said firmly. “You hacked an alien translator using a flashlight and a Etch A Sketch. You—” He huffed, voice breaking. “You are the only reason half this team is alive.”

You stared at him, voice stuck in your throat.

“But I make everything a joke.”

“Because that’s how you survive,” He said softly. “You think I don’t know what it’s like to be underestimated because people are more comfortable laughing at you than respecting you?”

You looked down. “I just… if I stop being funny, I’m afraid they’ll stop wanting me around.”

Bucky reached up, cupping your cheek, thumb stroking beneath your eye.

“If they can’t handle all of you, not just the jokes and chaos and weird trivia, then they don’t deserve you. But I can.” His voice was low, steady. “I love you. All of you. The ridiculous, the brilliant, the heartbreaking mess of you. You could set the tower on fire trying to build a better microwave and I’d still think you’re the smartest person I’ve ever met.”

You blinked fast, and a soft smile tugged at your lips. “That was one time.”

“Twice,” He corrected. “And the second time, you swore it was intentional to teach Tony humility.”

You let out a breathless laugh, and he smiled. That sweet, rare smile he only ever gave you like you were something secret and sacred.

“C’mere,” He said, pulling you in again, tighter this time.

You curled into his lap and let yourself stay there, finally still, finally quiet. His hands never stopped moving, thumb tracing your spine, fingers gently combing through your hair, grounding you with every touch.

And in that moment, you didn’t feel like a mascot or a distraction.

You felt like someone loved and seen.

#Earth’s Mightiest Headache #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #marvel fic #marvel x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky x you #angst fic #angst #hurt/comfort

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vxnuslogy · 7 months ago

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— 1:43 coincidences.

pairing: kinich x gn!reader

premise: kinich wasn't one to indulge in the creative waters of writing or english. but for a chance to know you, he'd willing jump into the ocean.

— warnings: none

— author's note: this was supposed to be for his birthday but i got lazy half way through so yeah. this is also a part 2 of 11:11 wishes and i highly recommend you read this one first!! art credits to @.n249g on twt. | 2.3k words.

— tags: @ryescapades @mikashisus @https-sourlimes ; if you'd like to be tagged, please fill out the forms in my pinned!!

english—writing class to be specific—was one of kinich’s least favorite subjects in school. not to say that he didn’t appreciate books and stories, he just simply preferred the more straightforward subjects like p.e. and math. he never really could wrap his head around the ideas of using so many literary devices to make a statement sound flowery. why can’t author’s simply say that the sky was blue or that the sun has set? kinich, more often than not, found them all unnecessary.

until you, that is.

kinich met you by coincidence during one of his basketball practices. a loud shout of his name from the stands and an enthusiastic mualani made him cringe internally as his teammates wiggle their eyebrows. with a roll of his eyes, kinich drops his water bottle on the benches and readied himself for whatever mualani wanted to do. his head curiously tilted to the side when he caught sight of you.

you and mualani were the same height, you held her bag in your arms as you scroll through your phone. kinich must have stared a bit too hard. you looked, meeting his eyes with a curious but embarrassed gaze. suddenly all the metaphorical pieces of literature he once found exasperating had an entirely new meaning as you flashed him an embarrassed smile. he found himself captivated–unable to look away even when mualani came to obscure his view of you. with a heavy breath, he tried his best to keep his attention on her words, but he ended up missing the way your lips turned upward and eyes turn into small crescents.

it would’ve been cute, dare he say romantic, with the way you kept stealing glances at him. kinich felt a certain itch at the back of his mind to at least smile back, but he never got the chance to. not when a stray basketball flies past his head and nearly hit you all the way from the stands.

“hey! watch it!” mualani shouts. hands gripping the metal bars tightly, ready to jump down and pick a fight with the player who had nearly hit you.

kinich stood there, baffled and perplexed about you. he found your way of tugging at mualani’s arm amusing as she yells and points an accusing finger at ororon. you shake your head with a sigh and offer him an apologetic smile when he should be the one doing that. with his own heavy sigh, kinich turned around and crossed his arms, a scolding look in his eyes as everyone avoided his gaze.

“kinich you better put your team in place or i’ll do it myself!” the volleyball captain in the stands yelled with an angry huff. she copied kinich’s pose and narrowed down her eyes but she simply looked like an angry kitten.

kinich’s ears picked up on your airy giggle and felt the hairs on his arms rise. karma must be coming back to bite him in the ass because now, at this very moment, he wished he’d paid enough attention in english class to find a way to describe the way you captured him with just one glance.

much his teacher’s surprise, kinich finally began to participate in english class. he would raise his hands to answer questions and when called, he’d try to answer even if he struggled. all of his classmates concluded something must have happened—you can’t really blame them for being curious, after all, kinich only took interest in very few things.

he began to frequent the local bookstore too. drifting from one aisle to another, eyes skimming over the spines of the books he once took for granted. ironically, he found himself indulging in a newfound fascination with how words worked. a certain wish deep in the columns of his chest to find a way to describe you in the same way. that’s when kinich ceased all his skimming. ever since that day, he’s been thinking about you, more often than he should.

he knew you and mualani were close—attached to the hip with the way you grew up together. the council president would often brag about your achievements as if they were her own during breaks from meetings. mualani always had something to say about you—all ranging from nice, embarrassing, and intriguing. you also ate lunch together. kinich would always notice how mualani packs extra lunch and when the bell rings, you’re always outside the classroom. bag slinged over your shoulder, a book under your arms as you entertained yourself with your phone.

during all of these times, kinich’s eyes will always slide over to your figure. trying to capture your mystique on paper with his rookie capabilities in writing. and for the second time, he must have stared too much because you ended up catching his stare. your eyes glossed over the opened book on his desk, the many sticky notes with messy notes, pens and highlighters matching the book cover, and how he keeps tapping his pen on his notebook. his finger’s twitched, heart lurching forward into your arms when your eyes twinkled with familiarity of his actions.

he was doing an activity for english class. and that’s when it all clicked into place.

you flash him a smile as mualani tangled your arms together and tugged you to the direction of the cafeteria. no wonder your laugh sounded so familiar, it was the same sound he heard during english when he paid attention to everything but the lesson. the book under your arms had the same colored annotations as his and even the blue bracelet on your wrist looked familiar. you were the student sitting a few seats back from him.

“what a coincidence,” he murmurs, shifting his attention back to the activity due tomorrow. but his mind betrayed him for the second time because instead of writing down his interpretations in the notebook, the word “beautiful” was instead jotted down. and kinich isn’t talking about the book.

dismissal hours and kinich did not mix well. while others packed their things to go home, he stayed behind to work with the council on the bulletin board. with a thud, he dropped to the floors as the others laugh. mualani ruffled his hair and promised they’ll be quick today, which he highly doubts with the way there was paint on her face and poorly hidden paper planes made out of spare papers. he shook his head in amusement and started getting to work.

by the time the clock hit 5, everyone had bid their farewells and kinich was left alone boarding the last bus of the day. he mindlessly paid the bus fare and looked for any available seats. the grip on his school bag tightened ever so slightly when he caught sight of a familiar mop of hair and blue bracelet in one of the seats. like a sailor being captured with a siren’s song, kinich made his way to you and cleared his throat.

you look up at him with the sun in your eyes. and he wonders if you’re aware of them. “is this seat taken?” a beat of silence passed before he caught the way your eyes widened and shook your head no. kinich swore he could hear the drumming of his heart as the sun sets behind you, casting a golden glow that makes you even more captivating.

“oh no, no! not at all,” you stammer out with a crooked smile. kinich nods in thanks and sits down. this must be the awkward presence of a blooming crush the books he’s read were talking about. he wanted to bury his head in his hand in sheer embarrassment. of course he concludes he had a crush on you as you’re sitting next to him. of course he just had to be awkward as you steal glances at him every now and then, trying to think of a way to strike up a conversation.

“are you done?” you ask and kinich has never reacted to a sound so fast in his life. “with the book review i mean.” another smile, another reason for kinich’s heart to beat. he cleared his throat and looked away, muttering a soft yes under his breath. you don’t speak another word after that and kinich curses mualani for sleeping over at a friend’s house today.

now, kinich wasn’t one to abuse his position as a council member nor did he ask teacher’s for favors–but there’s a first for everything. with a knowing mualani behind him, he takes a shaky breath in and knocks on the faculty door to excuse his english teacher to ask to be partnered with you.

it was such a bizarre and surreal feeling. kinich was simply about to go to bed after basketball practice when mualani had decided to blow up his phone with messages and screenshots. conversations with you filled with all capital messages, numerous exclamation marks, and sobbing emojis he began to associate with you began to fill his mind as his heart started to expand.

“ I WISH HE’D BE MY PARTNER FOR THE BIOGRAPHY PROJECT 😭 😭”

kinich never paid any attention to the project despite having more interest in class—he didn’t have any particular interest in anyone, except you. so for you to wish to have him as the subject of your written creativity, how could kinich resist? and there wasn’t any difficulty in convincing your teacher too. a poorly executed excuse of maybe having your creativity rubbing off on him was all it took for the two of you to be paired up.

when he leaves the faculty, mualani greets him with a knowing smirk, her hands behind her back as the two quietly make their way back to the never ending task that is the bulletin board. the girl made sure not to point out the excited glint in his eyes and how a smile threatened to spill from his lips when you passed by and waved at her.

“you’re such a goner,” mualani teased with a shake of her head. she only stuck out her tongue at him when kinich tried to kick her shin. but he didn’t try to deny anything, all he could think about what kind of questions he’ll ask you in the span of a month.

“blue. you were wearing a blue bracelet when we first met and i really liked it.”

“and”

“it suits you”

“is that a weird thing to say?”

it was embarrassing how quickly kinich closed his phone and put it on silent mode. that was something so unlike him to say—even his punctuations and spacing of messages felt out of place. but could you blame him? that damn blue bracelet complimented the tone of your skin, how light seemed to bounce off it and become a magnet–begging for him to hold.

and was it wrong of him to assume you liked green because of him? he noticed earlier this week that your gaze lingered longer whenever he wore his jersey jacket and this one hoodie xilonen gifted him. “the color reminded me of a calming walk in the forest,” you had said when he sat down in front of you as he asked why you were staring (leaving out the part of the giddy feeling he’s captured your undivided attention with just a piece of clothing. he then wonders what you’d look like if you were the one to wear it.)

could you give his poor heart a break? after all you nearly injuring yourself trying to make it to class wasn’t on his agenda for the day (but he’ll never admit how nice it felt for you to cling to him). he never meant for your fingers to brush as you picked up the papers on the floor, nor did he mean to look away so quickly—missing the way your cheeks turned pink.

kinich’s gaze flickered over to that blue bracelet again as you checked your appearance on your phone, then it moved to your bag, and like a sailor following the north star, he took it from your back and said, “let’s go to class.” his voice was quiet—dare he think shy—as he covered half of his face with a curled fist.

you denied his offer to bail you out of a lecture from your teacher and he promptly agrees. but kinich knows, deep down in the ocean of his heart that you won’t get in trouble when he’s by your side. maybe it was the adrenaline–or maybe just you–he loved to chase. he took steps and steps in your direction to pluck a stray leaf stuck in your hair. he doesn’t miss the whiff of your perfume—woody with hints of citrus and some cinnamon in the mix.

you smell like sunshine and the partner he wants for the rest of his life.

after the biography project, kinich finds himself sitting with you in a park after classes got canceled. you asked him to push you on the swing set and he complied without much of a fight.

“i wish you’d be my partner for this project, and wouldn’t you know, it actually happened.”

“oh, i know.”

kinich laughs, something he does more with you, at your dumbfounded expression. the realization that mualani had snitched on you and that he went out of his way to make sure it happened like you wished for sent your cheeks ablaze. kinich loved the sight of you under the afternoon sun as he goes in front of you, on one knee like those cheesy prince charmings in stories you always gushed about.

“be my partner for life, that was my 11:11 wish today.”

if you were to ask kinich what his favorite season was, he would answer summer within a heartbeat. summer was the season when you met, the colors of the sun bathing you in all his favorite colors as you cheered him on from the stands during basketball matches with his name on your back. the many ice cream runs where you both complain about the heat, or when you drop by the council room to try and cool off because the ac is stronger. summer had you in it, but kinich wouldn’t mind experiencing the other seasons with you too.

#—stellaronhvnters.#kinich x reader #kinich x you #kinich fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact fluff #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin imagines #genshin impact kinich #( 🂡 ) – royal flush of stories .ᐟ

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venusbyline · 8 months ago

Text

Fates ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 22, oct.

(late post)

— pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x wife!reader

— type: smut, dark, Kinktober (House of the Dragon Edition)

— kink: spit kink

— summary: Jacaerys Velaryon had become the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and you had become his Queen Consort. Grief, sacrifice and pain carried the weight of crowns. The daily tragedies would happen forever until one of you died. This was the true destiny of the Greens and Blacks. There were never victors after the war. The eternal unhappiness was the only conquest.

— word count: 2.3k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 22nd day, Targcest (aunt/nephew), female!reader, queen consort!reader, king!Jacaerys, dark!Jacaerys, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, spit kink, rape/non-con, degradation, rough sex, gore, referenced mutilated penis, nipple play, nipple torture, blood and violence, blood kink, vaginal sex, anal sex, hate sex, implied PTSD, biting, hair-pulling, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, VERY DARK CONTENT, hurt no comfort, mild angst, light unconscious sex, ambiguous/open ending (but it would probably be a sad or bittersweet ending), curse words, death threats, sexism, crying, dacryphilia, mild dumbification, referenced permanent injury, mild aftercare (BUT NOT REALLY), past genital torture, Jacaerys also lost an eye, fake character death, emotional manipulation, sadism, breast worship, forced orgasm, marriage of convenience, forced marriage, sexual and psychological torture, survivors guilt, male infertility, Jacaerys Velaryon lives, Jaehaera Targaryen lives, Baela Targaryen dies, forced child marriage mentioned, minor Jaehaera Targaryen/Aegon III Targaryen, past Jacaerys Velaryon/Baela Targaryen, past Aemond Targaryen/reader, mild Stockholm syndrome, age gap (older woman/younger man), Jace's 17 during 131 AC and 21 during 135 AC, reader's 21 during 131 AC and 25 during 135 AC, dom!Jacaerys, sub!reader, canon divergence (The Blacks win the Dance of the Dragons), porn with plot. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @baybaybear1 @blessedbymoon @p45510n4f4shi0n @lina-lovebug @moonnicole @badger-reads @turdettethefirst

— crossposting: AO3

"The King ordered your presence into his private chambers, Your Grace. Immediately."

The maid's voice brought you out of your almost peaceful sleep. Before the war, you loved having the calm to sleep and get plenty of rest whenever you could, away from the trivial duties of Royalty. Before, you loved going to sleep and waking up with your nephews laughing and playing on your bed, trying to wake you up by the most messy and childish possible ways. Jaehaerys, Jaehaera and Maelor were like your children too, you helped your older sister to take care of them, often more present in their lives than Aegon himself, who was always just focused on fucking whores or harassing the castle's servants.

During the Dance of the Dragons, you almost went crazy, also like Helaena. As if the cruel murder of your nephew Jaehaerys was not enough, you were also forced to marry your twin brother, Aemond, who ended up dying during The Battle Above the Gods Eye along with your uncle Daemon, turning you into widow at just twenty years old in that time. Your half-sister Rhaenyra's death was inevitable, as were the deaths of nearly every member of the Targaryen family. However, Rhaenyra's bloodline continued on the throne after the mysterious poisoning of your older brother Aegon II during 131 AC. When the Blacks took back the Iron Throne, your greatest concern would be not only the fact that your other nephew, Aegon III, son of your half-sister and your uncle Daemon, could ascend as the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms at such a young age, but also the fact of what would happen to you and your little niece Jaehaera, who had the tragic fate of marrying the boy even though they were both children, as a stupid attempt at a peace treaty between the Blacks and Greens.

To your surprise, it was not Aegon III who ascended the Iron Throne, much less little Jaehaera or even you. But Jacaerys Velaryon, Rhaenyra Targaryen's firstborn and her legitimized heir, the one that everyone believed for almost two years that he was dead. On that horrifying afternoon, you were sure that the new king would order your death and the death of your niece. Which never happened. You did not know how Jacaerys had survived after the Battle of the Gullet, but despite the possible cruel fate that awaited you, you were grateful that His Grace was a man of his word and swore to keep Jaehaera alive and safe in King's Landing, not breaking up the marriage between her and his little brother, Aegon III, but also giving his word that the two children only would be able to consummate their marriage years later and did not need to act as a couple while they were still so young. After all, Jacaerys might want revenge on your family at all costs, but that did not mean he was in favor of murder or allowing the rape of a little girl, in a certain way.

Even during 135 AC, four years after the coronation of the current ruler, Jaehaera remained alive and safe, protected by her brother-in-law and cousin. Your nephew and husband. The new King. And for that, your fate was forever sealed as the second wife of King Jacaerys Velaryon, the first of his name.

"Lady Wife!" Jacaerys shouted with exaggerated excitement as he lay on the bed, completely naked but covered by the silk sheets. "I see the maids did not disappoint me again this time."

You took a deep breath, remembering the week before when he yelled at the servants for taking so long to bring you to your shared chambers. It had been unnecessary and agonizing to watch how people cowered in the face of his threats. The once kind and sweet Prince Jacaerys had become such a rude and merciless King since the death of his family. You could not blame him, even if you preferred to be able to.

"They were quick to bathe me and get me ready to see you." Your tone was monotonous, without emotion or affection. It was always like this. A slow death sentence you signed for the sake of your niece Jaehaera. You were used to this exhausting routine. Lying with Jacaerys when he was drunk, angry with the duties of his reign and the weight of the crown, as well as the grief that tormented his mind every night, indulging in wine or pleasure houses to try to avoid insanity which was approaching him little by little.

Both of you never knew each other very well before the marriage of convenience. You had interacted with Jace just a few times before the Dance of the Dragons, the last time being at that disastrous Viserys's supper, when Jace tried to be polite and ask Helena and then you for a dance, but his kindness only ended up making Aegon and Aemond jealous about Hel and you, causing more chaos between your families.

You might not know much about Jacaerys. However, it was obvious that the war had changed his personality. Now, he was colder, far from the soft boy who once made you chuckle dancing with him in an almost clumsy way. Now, Jace just saw you as a prize won due to the war, even if you were his second wife. He had lost everyone, even Baela.

Not that he really loved her, but there was affection and protection there. Political marriages that turned into true affectionate feelings. If only Baela had not died during the labor of their stillborn son... Perhaps he would have truly loved her as time passed. Perhaps he would have heirs now and would not need to sleep with you. Or almost that.

"You are so fucking stand-off right now, My Queen." The King muttered mockingly, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he took another sip from the wine cup, motioning for you to approach the bed. With a sigh, you walk in silence, taking off your white nightgown you wore and sitting on his lap carefully, looking at him. Jace had intense marks spread across his body and face, scars that you wanted to caress if only he did not despise you as hell.

This adult version of him reminded you of your brother and ex-husband Aemond. The unexpected parallel between the uncle and the nephew was interesting. Both men missing one of their eyes. Aemond One-Eye, Jacaerys One-Eye. But there was no sapphire inside your current husband's eye socket. After reclaiming what was rightfully his, Jace ordered a black obsidian to be molded to fit there. A sadder version of your brother and ex-husband.

You missed Aemond, even if he was not a good husband and refused to breed you until the end of the war. Jacaerys missed Baela, even if he did not have any romantic feelings for her.

"I wish I could breed you with my heirs." Jace murmured, brushing away the silver hair that was in front of your face, taking in your delicate features for a moment. "I wonder if they would have silky light hairs like yours, or if they would be cursed with my dark hair."

His words made you curl into his lap, biting the lip to ward off a pained whining when he grabbed a handful of your silver strands, as if he wanted to rip them out completely and make you swallow every single one of them later. "I wish I still had my cock, then I would fuck you until your cunt swelled and was sore. I would hear you screaming and crying every night, begging me to stop hurting you while your tight little cunt would be constantly bleeding and milking me. And guess what? I would never stop. I WOULD NEVER STOP! I would be turned on seeing my seed leaking from all your holes and you screaming for my mercy just like the disgusting brothel whores."

The sickly macabre sentences caught you off guard and he pushed you under the bed, climbing on top of you, now without the sheets covering the absence of his cock, just the bad stitches and the almost huge nauseating scar where the Greens had ripped off his big and delightful penis. The length that Jacaerys always boasted about as a teenager. He would probably be the next Realm's Delight, just like his mother had been. But now all he had to content himself with was fucking you with his large fingers or his tongue, kissing you aggressively, always biting your lips or your breasts until they bleed, covered with light scars, just like he did with the whores from the brothels. "You should always be my own brood mare. I should force myself on you and make you carry my children every year until you learned to enjoy it. To enjoy me. TO LOVE ME!"

In that same second, as if he could read your mind, Jacaerys spat in the middle of your breasts and pinched your nipples with both hands between index fingers and thumbs, making you scream as he twisted them hard. "I should rip off your own nipples and make yourself eat them for dinner. I should fuck your nasty cunt with the blade of my sword until your womb tears, being disemboweled from the inside. I should kill you like your damn family killed mine." He shouted angrily, hitting your face once before squeezing your chin, forcing you to part your lips so he could spit the wine-tasting saliva onto your tongue. "SWALLOW IT! THIS IS AN ORDER FROM YOUR TRUE KING!"

He yelled, forcing you to obey after the next three slaps he gave you, without even letting you breathe. You swallowed his spit, your tears flowing in panic and your heart racing from it all. Jace's newly acquired cruelty was no longer a surprise to you, but sometimes your attempt at apathy faded and you let your sad emotions take control. You continued crying as the King spat in your face two more times, not even trying to clean up his disgusting mess on your cheeks and just allowing his hands to hurt your aching cunt, his slender fingers fucking you without any care, probably drawing blood while you bit your lip and closed your eyes, trying hard not to pay attention to anything. Trying hard not feeling anything or thinking about anything. Trying hard not to admire the scars on his handsome face or the dark jewel inside his empty eye.

You needed to keep Jaehaera safe. After the death of your sister Helaena, Jaehaera was no longer just your niece, she was also your daughter now. She was the only good thing in whole your life and you needed to protect her, even if it meant sacrificing your body and mind. You wondered if this was how your Lady Mother Alicent felt everytime your stupid father Viserys fucked her since she was just a teenager girl. In those years ago, did Alicent feel violated? Raped? Disgusted with her husband, with the world and mainly with herself? Did she also feel guilty and think she deserved those so cruel acts? But... did Alicent also feel empathy even about the man who hurt her?

Alicent Hightower was a broodmare for Viserys Targaryen. However, Jacaerys Velaryon could not procreate and get you pregnant with his seed. So you did not know what that made you. Just an object to be used and abused by him? Beaten until one day he finally had enough and murdered you? Until the little Aegon III getting older and inherits the Iron Throne due to his older brother's lack of heirs?

Would this be Jaehaera's fate too? Being just a Queen Consort and a whore inside the private chambers against her own will? Was this the fate of all women?

The hours passed in a blur, despite you being conscious the entire time, you decided to keep your thoughts empty and away from the cruel reality, preferring not to staring Jace. You did not realize how messy and filthy your face was with the King's saliva until you felt Jacaerys's hands caressing your cheeks with panic, trying to clean up the violence he made, his own fingers being full of your cum and the blood that had come out so much from your cunt and from your ass, both tight holes bleeding and hurting like the Seven Hells.

"Gods, I am so sorry." Jace sobbed, keeping to wipe your face. You saw how his eye became even more prettier filled with crystal clear tears, his cheeks red from crying. "I am so sorry, My Queen. I did not mean... I did not mean to be like this. I did not want to be a monster. I just want my family back. I just want to be able to be a good husband, I just want to be a father. I did not want to be that kind of King." Jacaerys hugged your tired and vulnerable form, his naked body shaking from the intense bout of crying as he searched your mouth to kiss you softly, as a way to compensate. The kiss tasted like tears, cum and blood. But you did not care. "Oh, Gods. Please, forgive me. Forgive me, aunt." You let him kiss you with some tenderness while he was apologizing in the midst of despair. You knew everything all too well. All of this would happen again in just a few days.

Jacaerys Velaryon had become the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and you had become his Queen Consort. Grief, sacrifice and pain carried the weight of crowns. The daily tragedies would happen forever until one of you died. This was the true destiny of the Greens and Blacks. There were never victors after the war. The eternal unhappiness was the only conquest.

HOTD Edition - Masterlist

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beastyeastfreak · 1 month ago

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Begging you to make that doomed yaoi with shadow milk and reader

Alright im revisiting that one post i made and doing this

Cw and tags: Hurt/No comfort, angst, miscommunication, fluff (first half), reader and Shadow milk are very in love, PV and reader are good friends

Summary: You were a high ranking vanilla kingdom member, ironically your dearest was Shadow milk. You soon overhear him speaking to his minions and realize you had been used(or so you thought).

🃏 - It was the perfect plan. Pure Vanilla had to pay for what he did and Shadow Milk needed his souljam back. Unfortunately he didn’t want to risk being defeated again if he just strutted right up and took it. He couldn’t go directly attack, so it was plan B which was attacking from the inside. Gain the trust of someone close, learn weaknesses and get close, his favorite sort of pastime. And it just so happens that Pure Vanilla had a lonely, naive little assistant…

🃏 - You weren’t sure why exactly the Beast of Deceit chose you, or what stars had crossed to land you in the same place at the same time that fateful day. It wasn’t something you thought about a lot but for some reason it crossed your mind as he had you in his arms beneath your bulky blankets trapping warmth between you two. It felt wrong, to some extent, to go and help your kingdom and king but turn around and accept the affection of the beast. Yet, Shadow Milk was actually something to look forward to at the end of a work day, you usually just came home to how you left it, quiet and orderly. Now it was always a surprise to see what he did, surprise cooking, blue rose petals leading into the bedroom and filling the vases up with flowers from his now crumbled spire were all on the table. You were unfortunately head over heels

🃏 - Pure Vanilla noticed it too, he had become more observant in this new form. “Is something on your mind?” He’ll ask as you’re taking notes, but before you respond he adds in a teasing tone. “Someone?” You flush slightly, giving a vague answer. He didn’t ask who it was just if you had admitted your feelings and give advice. The irony continues to grow as you unintentionally follow his advice while pursuing his evil half. You eventually get Shadow Milk to open up about his feelings, of course you had to decipher it like code as he seemed to not take it very seriously. Still, it paid off in your eyes.

🃏 - Obviously he couldn’t be seen in public, something about how paparazzi and he was too popular to walk around as himself. He opted for late night walks in the woods, valiantly protecting you from monsters and setting up picnics beneath the stars. He’ll also bring you into that dark place within those portals he brings stuff from. Among random parts of buildings and decorations floating in the dark space you may meet Black Sapphire and Candy Apple. Though you have made it clear you will stay true and wont fall to deceit, he seems actually ok with that?.. Oddly enough when you tell him you don’t want to be a liar, he just shrugs and grins and says “cant win ‘em all!” And continues to talk about something else.

🃏 - You’re knocked back into reality when you feel him shift his arms around you. The room was beginning to brighten slightly as the sun paints a pink sky outside your window. Unfortunately another work day.. eugh. Thankfully the clock reassured you that you had enough time to cuddle some more. Even if you tried to move, he’d probably pull you impossibly closer against him. Rather than move away, you intertwine your legs a little more with his and pull yourself forward until you were chest to chest like how you initially fell asleep. Your arm wraps around his waist and in response, the eyes of the long tendril like strands of hair messily sprawled across the bed open slightly but his face remained the same.

🃏 - “I know you’re awake, you don’t fool me anymore.” You murmur against his neck, the blues of his dough painted warmly in the growing sun dipping through the glass. “Call in sick… i foresee a terrible disaster happening to you,” he grumbled then added beneath his breath, “having to talk to that thief..” You smiled, amused at him. “Fine i will,” you say and his head lifts. “Really?” He asks, quite happy at the thought of you staying home, or perhaps lying to pure vanilla. You chuckle mischievously, “no.” His sleepy excitement turns sour. “Perhaps ill have to cause an issue that makes you have to come back to me,” he says with a plotting grin pulling you closer. “Are you that impatient to see me? Im flattered,” your hands roam over his back. He huffs, “you should be flattered.” He says and places his lips on the side of your face. “Well, its not like i dont have some time before i dont have to go, maybe i can convince you to not turn the castle into Spire of deceit 2.0?” You murmured, breath hitting his dough. “I could… maybe be convinced…”

🃏 - Work was about how anyone would expect it. Thankfully after the Vanilla kingdom was revived the only grueling task really was repairing what was broken. You were overseeing repairs and construction on a satellite island orbiting the main kingdom that had fallen to the eartbread below during the Dark Flour war. You weren’t really needed once you got everyone in their roles and the construction started, after everyone got to work you were sort of just standing around. While you were deep in thought tapping a quill against a clipboard, Pure Vanilla approached in all his brightness. “Busy work hm?” He asks, voice soft. You chuckled “do you need me elsewhere?” You asked, admittedly your mind was rather occupied you had forgotten you were still working. “No, i have handled everything. Take the rest of your day off, go see that special cookie im yet to meet but i can tell you’re dying to go talk to.” He smiles, and you return it, thankful you did not have to admit you were daydreaming. You began to walk back along the path leading to the way up. The unpaved trail crunching beneath your soles. Beneath the sound of your tracks you thought you heard the sound of speaking… but so far from the rubble seemed odd to say the least. Suspecting potential wrongdoers, you draw your weapon and begin to navigate the forest.

🃏 - “Perhaps” Shadow milk thought to himself, “theres a workaround that doesn’t involve Y/N… Im sure theres plenty of ways to get to Pure Vanilla.” Shadow milk thought but was abruptly cut from his thoughts as Candy Apple appeared from the bushes letting out a shrill laugh. “Master Shadow Milk, your plan is working splendidly!” Candy apple exclaimed followed by Black Sapphire who was nonchalantly tapping his mic. “You have this cookie head over heels for you, so what was the trick? Love potion? An arrow to the heart from Eternal Sugar’s little… cupid?” Black Sapphire asks. Candy apple responds, “Who cares about that nobody! Once you steal that souljam and break their little heart it’ll be us tw- i mean three spreading deceit all over the Vanilla kingdom teehehehehe!” Candy apple was practically hopping with excitement. Shadow Milk honestly wasn’t listening to them, too busy thinking about the cookie who’s heart he was meant to break, “Should i pick up dinner for them? Steak jelly sounds pretty romantic, maybe dinner and a show… hehehe.” He thought to himself before snapping back to the conversation, grinning ear to ear. “Thats right, once i get my hands on that souljam, Earthbreads greatest show is back on!”Shadow Milk said followed by cheering from Candy Apple’s cheering and Black Sapphires… hold on what was Black Sapphire looking at and why did he look shocked.

🃏 - “You were using me?” An almost trembling voice from nearby made his stomach drop. Suddenly Shadow Milk wasn’t floating as steadily. He almost dreaded turning around to meet their gaze, Candy apple was about to taunt something but Black Sapphire placed a hand over her mouth perhaps at the sight of his expression. Shadow Milk stared at them finally, their eyes were glistening with the threat of tears, their eyes were wide and mouth slightly agape. He could hear his minions sneaking off to avoid his anger that they had just ruined the entire plan. He didn’t allow the silence to grow or assumptions to fester further. “No! No- Y/N, you dont understand-“ He began to hover towards them. “I think I understood it pretty well,” you respond quickly and step back. “Please, listen it started like that but i don’t want to hurt you, I-!” He tries to reach to you but you slap his hand away. You close your eyes, remaining stoick. You take a deep breath, then look away. “You’re a great liar,” You start. Shadow Milk tries to speak, “For once, for you, i am not lying! Im not lying and it hurts, please-“

🃏 - “I care enough about you not to tell Pure Vanilla. But if you appear in the vanilla kingdom, he will know. Find someone else to use, goodbye.” You say and turn your back to him. You walk with force, each step hiding the fact you were a step away from breaking down. You almost want him to follow you, you expect him to chase you. But he doesn’t, figures. He really didn’t care. When you get back to the Vanilla Kingdom, to your home. You dont bother slipping out of your uniform, you fall into bed and begin to sob into your white pillow, which escalates faster than you could process.

#if yall want part two where they make up then like lmk #shadow milk cookie x reader #pure vanilla + reader #Pv is awakened in this #crk x reader #crk x you #x reader #crk #cookie run kingdom x you

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bokunoheros · 10 months ago

Text

LIPSTICK STAINS & MIRRORS

CHARACTER: SHOUTO TODOROKI

GENRE: FLUFF, SMUT

TAGS/WARNINGS: reader is gender neutral but written to be afab (shouto calls you princess once), reader is implied to be shorter than shouto, y’all are like 20+, married and live together, mirror sex, kissing, so much kissing, i love kissing, oral (m. receiving), fingering (reader receiving), inappropriate quirk usage (temperature play), shouto is a tease but in a loving manner, cervix kissing, chair sex, riding (reverse cowgirl), cumming inside, and aftercare, also kinda lazy ending?? bc i stayed up til 10am finishing this and wanna be done so bad

SUMMARY: you just ordered a bunch of new lipgloss and can’t wait to try it out — subsequently, your husband thinks you look beautiful, but doesn’t know how to verbalize it.

WORD COUNT: 7.7K

🦊’s A/N: this wasn’t actually going to be the first fic i posted here, but i DID just get a bunch of lipgloss i've waited a week and a half for, and would love to do the following <3 anyway shoutout judydoll they didn’t sponsor this but i wish they would. // also i pulled like two all-nighters writing this so i’m sorry if it like. starts unraveling a lil at the end i didnt actually proofread this god bless everyone thank you for giving this fic a chance

you had just ordered a bunch of new lipgloss you’d gotten in a buy 2 get 1 free sale, and it had finally come in the mail! after squealing excitedly and startling your poor husband, and highschool sweetheart, you quickly ran up to your shared bedroom and sat down in front of your vanity. fumbling with the box for a second, you get up to grab a pair of scissors from the bathroom before using one blade to cut through the packaging tape sealing the contents inside away.

once you’d managed to get your greedy little hands on the new products is around the same time shouto had wandered into the bedroom, where he stood leaning against the door frame, watching as you excitedly looked down at your lipstick and wondered which one to try on first.

hm……. maybe the more natural looking color instead of the red..? probably, since it's less likely to leave a stain, you think to yourself, oblivious to your husband's presence — until you caught a glimpse of him in the mirror, that is.

“oh! shouto, just in time,” you grin, waving him over. “which one do you think i should try first?” you ask, knowing he had always shown an interest in the process of how you did your makeup. not that he had actually verbalized said interest, rather, it was something you noticed while you were still in highschool. after months into the actual relationship, you two had finally had sex and you had stayed the night at his house. once this became an almost routine of sorts, you'd begin bringing stuff to stay overnight, and get ready for class in the morning, including a few makeup palettes. and so, shouto slowly took an interest in the way in which you’d do your makeup — be it just some eyeshadow/liner, or a fully beat face, he found it to be so…..interesting.

that being said, the youngest of the todoroki family takes a step towards you and away from the doorframe to look down at the lipsticks in your hands and picks the one in the shiny silver, almost holographic, tube and says this one.

huh, what do you know? he had picked the lipstain! guess it’s meant to be, then.

untwisting the cap, you shift in your seat slightly to better face the mirror as you pull the wand from the bottle, and find yourself face to face with the applicator you had been tweaking over for what felt like ever — a nice, smooth, iron tip! one of a kind, really, as you had never seen anything like it before! looking into the mirror, your gaze lingers on shouto for but a moment before focusing on your own lips and applying the stained lipgloss evenly — and then one more coat for good measure.

“what do you think?” you ask sweetly, turning around in your seat to face him.

what he thinks? obviously, he thinks you look stunningly, jaw droppingly gorgeous regardless of what you’re wearing, or if you have makeup on or not (save for the times you’ve ugly cried around him…), but god…. he can’t ignore the way his body suddenly feels flushed as he looks at your lips and the red-ish color currently staining them.

“i think — it looks nice,” he says simply as he takes a few steps closer to you, up until he’s directly behind your vanity chair and planting his hands on the back of it.

“just… nice?” your voice comes out softer than normal, and you sound audibly disappointed. at this, shouto begins to internally panic as he thinks of a way to get his admiration.

“very nice,” he corrects quickly, and you can’t help but let out a little chuckle at how rushed he sounded — you understood that your husband wasn’t exactly a stellar wordsmith, so you weren’t actually too upset with him.

“that’s it?” this time, you sound much more lighthearted, as you raise a brow at him and watch him speedrun the five stages of grief through his expressions and slight body language.

“....i think, you look very lovely,” he’s finally able to vocalize. even after all this time, he still got somewhat bashful when complimenting you — it wasn’t his fault! you just happened to render him speechless and left his dick hard every time you did anything! fuck… how should he go about this? maybe he should just show you what he thinks? yes…. that should work.

“stand up,” he says all of a sudden — he didn’t sound demanding or rude or anything, but there was a certain firmness to his voice that had you obeying without a second thought. without a moment of hesitation, shouto steps around to the side of the chair so he’s standing almost in front of you, and plants his large, calloused hands on your hips.

“shouto….” your voice comes out as a mere whisper as he pulls you closer toward him, left hand coming to cup your cheek as you look up at him.

“hm?” is all you get in reply as he leans in to kiss you tenderly.

tilting his head slightly to the side, he slots his lips over your painted ones in hopes of properly conveying his feelings on how he thinks you look. truthfully, as embarrassing as it may be, shouto wishes you’d put some lipstick on him so he could kiss you all over and leave a physical mark as you so often did to him. maybe one day he would have to sneak some of your lipgloss for himself to surprise you with? perchance… (you can’t just say perchance!) that being said, he takes advantage of the lipstick you’re currently wearing and hopes it transfers onto his lips.

and just like that, you’ve forgotten all about your new lipstick, or anything that wasn’t your husband, really. when you first met him, it was a little difficult to imagine shouto todoroki as a good kisser, and it was kinda true initially!, but after a little guidance and experience, he very quickly got the hang of it and used his newfound skills to turn you into nothing more than a panting mess.

swiping his tongue over the seam of your lips, he pulls away with a slight grin just as you part them for him.

“hey…..” you whine. “that’s not fair.”

“what isn’t?” he asks in a way that would’ve made you think he was playing dumb if he wasn’t….. well, like the way he was. you know your husband well enough to know that he was asking an earnest question, as he often teased you without meaning to or being aware of it.

“just… kiss me again, …please?” you ask in such a saccharine voice, shouto finds himself unable to resist for even a moment as he eagerly leans back in for another kiss.

god…. he was just so fucking weak when it came to You. he could never tell you no or deny you of what you asked for — hell, the first time you asked if you could kiss him (when he was still a kissless virgin), he accidentally bonked his head against yours in trying to copy the way you tilted your head to the side. …only, he had tilted his in the same direction as you, making for a very awkward, very laughable (but memorable) first kiss.

“mmh,” he hums quietly, pleasurably, as his lips work against yours — gently and tenderly, full of nothing but adoration for you, his sweet spouse.

there just truly weren’t enough words in the world for shouto to describe his affections for you, so instead, he often took to showing you exactly how he felt; more often than not, this led to fleeting but heated kisses throughout the day that left you on your toes and wanting for more. jesus, did he even realize the effect he had on you? (he did Nawt.)

this time, it was you to take the initiative to swipe your tongue over his plump lower lip before nibbling on it lightly and sucking it into your mouth. at this, the softest little moan slips past shouto’s throat at the feeling and he pulls you closer to him, so much so that your chest was now flush against his as the hand on your cheek leaves a cooling sensation against your flushed skin.

releasing his lip with a wet, almost schliiick kind of noise, you go to pull away from the kiss, just as he had done earlier, just to find the hand on your cheek had shifted to cradle the back of your head, and the hand on your hip had turned into an arm wrapped tightly around your waist as shouto’s tongue manages to slip into your open mouth.

you can’t help but giggle at the almost ticklish feeling of the wet muscle running around the inside of your cheeks before his tongue is suddenly ice cold and you’re squealing and trying to push him away.

“shouto!” you cry with no real irritation or upsetness — all he had done was catch you off-guard, really. okay, so maybe he could tease you on purpose every now and then..! it just wasn’t often that he did such a thing! he was typically kind of oblivious to a lot of things — not that it was his fault or anything; he hadn’t exactly grown up with the best social cues or …. uhm. family, in general, really….. (touya and enji i’m looking at you).

“yeah?” he breathes, looking down at you with stars in his eyes.

“what was that about?” you ask, trying to steady your breathing, chest heaving slightly as your hands find their way up to his chest, where they rest on his boo—well defined and muscled pecs.

“what was what about?” he echoes, tilting his head, actually playing dumb this time—he knew damn well what he had done this time around, and he couldn’t contain the little smile that tugged at the corners of his plump and almost pouty lips. he loved using his quirk to tease you — given, he’d been extremely hesitant about it at first, worried he might hurt you, or somehow cause some kind of permanent damage. thankfully, as the years went by, he gradually warmed up to it, and now? he couldn’t get enough of your reactions! like when he was fingering you, and suddenly his hand started to get a little too hot, or a little too cold, depending on which one he was using; it wasn’t enough to actually hurt or cause any damage, just some mild discomfort turned to pleasure once you got used to the feeling. and sometimes, whenever you let him cum inside or somewhere on you, his cum felt hotter than it should — sure, yeah, cum is warm, but…. his was just hot! it didn’t scald or anything, but it was definitely an added sensation that wouldn’t be possible without his quirk.

“you know what..!” is what you would have said had shouto not leaned in to kiss you again—effectively cutting you off and rendering you speechless. so maybe he knew he was a good kisser; he was highly observant after all, and would have to be a moron to not realize that he at least left you breathless every time! sure, he didn’t realize the full extent of the effect he had on you, but… partially aware is better than completely oblivious, right?

this time as you two kiss, the hand cradling your head moves back down to your hip, and before you know it, he’s picking you up and sitting himself down in the chair you were previously sitting on not too long ago.

“ah–!” you gasp at the sudden movement and change in position. now straddling his lap, with your back to the mirror, shouto begins trailing kisses down to your jawline and then the column of your neck. now, your husband wasn’t a particularly sloppy kisser. no, more often than not, he was very put together in almost every aspect of his life, and the bedroom was no exception. well, save for the occasions shouto just simply could not contain himself, and it was beginning to seem like one of those situations as he runs his freezing tongue over the sensitive skin of your neck, causing goosebumps to form as he nibbles at the junction where your neck and shoulder meet.

“sho–shouto—,” you breathe as he peppers kisses over your tender flesh. it had taken him a long while to be able to show affection so freely, and even now, he still had some trouble, but compared to the todoroki you knew in high school, he had improved by leaps and bounds!

your husband merely ignores your soft cry of his name—his dick doesn’t, though, and you can even feel it start to twitch to life beneath you. fuck. all you had done was put on a little lipstick, and?? now your husband was glued to your neck, nipping and biting along the way, even stopping in a couple places to suck against the skin there in order to leave a couple hickies!

“don’t tease,” you try to chide him, but it comes off weak and a little pathetic sounding as shouto finds a particularly sensitive spot on your neck and takes full advantage of it. jesus christ! his tongue was so cold!! it was such a contrast to the heat of his breath, you couldn’t help but pant at the feeling.

“‘m not,” is the only thing he says, it was more of a mumble, really, as he bites down harder than he had previously, and you can’t help the squeal that leaves you as his teeth sink into your skin.

“shouto!” if you didn’t know any better, or if you had married someone more… aggressive (katsuki)...., you might have thought your husband had drawn blood — he didn’t, obviously, as he would never intentionally hurt you, but he did like to toe the line of pleasure and pain often enough to keep you on your toes, just enough pain for it to be able to bleed into an acquired type of pleasure.

“yeah?” he all but hums in response, sounding pleased with himself.

he doesn’t give you a chance to respond, however, as he quickly pulls away from your neck to plant another heated kiss to your glossy lips. it doesn’t last very long, though, as he pulls away just far enough to look at you properly, and his eyes widen when he sees the way your lipstick had been smudged and it had spread slightly down to your neck (it was more like lightly red-colored patches in the shape of his lips peppered vaguely over your flesh).

“will you put on some more lipstick?” he suddenly asks, sounding out of breath.

giggling quietly at his request, you nod and oblige, shifting to turn around on his lap so that your back was against his chest, and your ass against his steadily growing erection. grabbing the tube of lipstick from your vanity, you untwist the cap and begin to apply more, focusing wholly on your lips during the process, completely missing the way shouto was eyeing you in the mirror.

after putting the cap back on and setting the silver bottle full of what felt watery liquid when you put it on, but wasn’t actually, back down on your vanity’s surface, you tilt your head to face your husband, who had wrapped his arms around your waist while you had been applying the aforementioned beauty product, and smile at him.

“better?” you wonder aloud, knowing it was much better indeed.

“mhmm,” he hums sweetly, one hand coming up to all but squish your cheeks, just without the pressure, to better tilt your head towards him as he himself leans in for yet another kiss. you swear, the first time you kissed shouto, a switch flipped in that poor boy’s brain, because ever since then, he’s been addicted to them like they’re crack—he needs your kisses the same way he needs oxygen to breathe or a therapist for his generations of trauma stuffed into a single, incomplete lifetime. (please….. please, go to group therapy with the rest of 1-a, i’m begging.)

shouto can’t help but smile against your lips as he pulls you flush against his chest and rolls his hips, and consequently, his hard-on, up against your ass. neither of you can contain the whimper or little gasp that slips past your throats, nor can you help the way one of your hands comes up to thread itself into his peppermint-colored hair as you part your lips needily, trying to shift around in his firm grasp.

despite the quality of your lipstick, it still transferred partially onto his lips, simply due to how fresh the coat was, not that your husband minds. he’d revel in the way he’d get to smear lipstick over your body, and — pause. his hands suddenly find themselves planted on your hips as he manhandles you to face him again, and meets your gaze for a moment before pressing a kiss to your forehead. but in that moment, you could see all the love and admiration in the world swirling around in his beautifully mismatched eyes, and you couldn’t control the wide-ass smile that had spread across your face—so wide, in fact, your cheeks hurt. even though it was such a simple action, you could truly feel his love for you in everything that he did.

“i love you—so much, y’know,” you practically coo, hands moving to cup his flushed cheeks as you simply just look at the man you had married. goddamn! he was so beautiful! taking in all the fine details of his face, you notice the faintest little dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose, and the way even his eyebrows, and even his awfully long lashes (he got them from his mother), are different colors. his perfectly plump and pouty lips to match his overall softer facial features. how could anybody be so perfect-looking? it was just simply unfair! even with his ice burn scar and somewhat sparse left eyebrow growth, it didn’t change a thing in your eyes.

shouto feels his heart flutter at your words, and his grin stretches to be almost uncharacteristically wide as his hands shift lower on your hips, closer to your upper thighs, and his thumbs begin rubbing tender circles against the plush flesh there.

“i — love you more,” he whispers back. the words sound shy coming from him, but you can tell he means his words. you may have fallen first, but shouto fell harder. his smile softens a bit as his hands move up to cup your cheeks tenderly before pressing another kiss to your painted lips. god. he truly could not believe how lucky he was to have you — you, who brought him out of his shell back in highschool, you who showed him love can be tender and soft, you who taught him how to let love into his heart.

now, it was shouto’s turn to show you just how much he loved you.

sliding his tongue over the seam of your lips, he lets out a soft hum as he grips your thighs before sliding his hands slowly upwards and up under the t-shirt you wore—it was his, actually!—and over your bare ribcage. you can’t help the goosebumps that broke out over your skin at the feeling of his calloused hands against your much softer flesh, nor the chill that runs down your spine and causes your nipples to stiffen under the thin fabric—especially with the way he begins to palm and grope at your tits.

“mmnh,” you hum at the temperature difference of his rough hands, and let out a soft moan when it increases drastically all of a sudden, your right nipple freezing cold and the left a little too hot for comfort—even your body was unsure of how to react to such a feeling, but it sure does send a throb down to your clit, and you can feel a damp spot begin to form in the seat of your panties, which is all you happened to be wearing under your stolen shirt.

“shouto, please,” you whine, squirming around on his lap, and dragging your thinly clothed cunt over the erection in his stupid grey sweatpants that always drove you crazy.

“please what, love?” he asks, pulling away just enough to rest his forehead against yours.

“god…. just— fuck me,” is all your able to get out, but, lucky for you, your husband has something even better in mind than just that. sure, he couldn’t wait to get his dick wet—to feel the way your cunt wraps around his sensitive tip—god, he can feel himself leak pre-cum like he’s some excited teenager again, and he groans at the nature of your request.

“mm, …not yet,” he smirks, and, before he’s even processed what he himself is doing, he had already licked an embarrassingly hot stripe up the length of your neck.

“shouto!” you squeal. “what was that for?!”

“felt like it,” he replies simply before attaching his full lips to your neck once more, where he began nipping and nibbling at all your most tender spots, before he finds your sweet spot and bites down particularly hard and begins suckling against the skin there, determined to leave a mark of sorts. now, while shouto was not one to leave marks in obvious places—he was perfectly content with marking you in places only he could see—he just couldn't help himself for some reason..! maybe it was because he was feeling rather bold at the moment, or because he couldn't get enough of the sweet, quiet noises you were making as he nipped and sucked at your flesh until you were sure the skin was raw.

“sho—” you can’t help but wiggle in his lap, cunt grazing over his erection. when he groans at your actions, you repeat your actions, rolling your hips down against his as he marks your neck up in pretty blue and purple and reddish hues.

suddenly, an idea pops into your mind, and you find yourself melting off of his lap and onto your knees between his legs, eager hands reaching to unbuckle his leather belt and pull it off of him.

“wh–what’re you doing, baby?” shouto finds himself breathless with a flushed face as you begin to unbutton his pants and tug down the zipper, exposing his all-too-tight black boxers and the wet spot that had formed on them. you only grin and lick your lips at the sight, of course, eager to get your husband’s perfect cock in your mouth.

“what’s it look ‘m doin’, huh?” you look up at him with big wet eyes and pouty red lips. “now lift your hips f’me,” you instruct him, and he does as told, so you can tug his pants and boxers down in one swift go.

shouto hisses as his sensitive tip comes into contact with the cool air of the bedroom, and he looks down at you a little embarrassedly, biting as lower lip as you kissed his swollen and flushed head before taking it slowly into your mouth.

“ah–!” your husband moans as you suckle around his mushroom-headed tip and he can’t help the way one large hand falls down to rest on top of your head, long fingers burying themselves into your hair as he begins to set a moderate pace for you to bob your head. unfortunately, poor shouto still had trouble controlling his reactions whenever you gave him head — your mouth and tongue were simply too skilled for your own good! for his own good!

tilting his head back to look at the ceiling instead of you, in an attempt to not bust too early, he catches a glimpse of the lewd sight in the mirror and—oh god. his dick fucking twitches and he feels an embarrassing amount of pre-cum leak from his sticky tip and into your hot mouth.

“jesus christ—fuck,” your husband groans—it wasn’t too often that he swore, only when he was especially mad, passionate, or, in this case, especially horny. “take it easy, honey—please,” he whines, hand gripping your hair tighter, forcing your head further down his thick length despite his contradictory words. you pay his actions no mind, however, only doing your best to suppress your gag reflex and hollow your cheeks out around him before swallowing thickly; you even went as far as to deepthroat him all the way, uncaring of the way drool seeped past your lips and all around the base of his cock. swallowing around him again once his leaky tip hits the back of your throat, and shouto’s hand grips your hair a little too tightly—not that you minded in the moment. if anything, it made your pussy throb. as did the way he was panting and moaning softly above you. god…… his little noises were absolutely divine and each and every one sent a jolt to your clit.

much to his embarrassment, shouto is surprisingly noisy in bed — not exactly loud per se, but certainly unable to contain all his little huffs, puffs, and soft moans and quiet groans. but it wasn’t like it was his fault! how exactly was he supposed to stay quiet when you’re making him feel so damn good? jesus, it wasn’t fair! for him, anyway; for you, his sweet sounds only made you all the more hot and bothered.

his gaze falls down to meet yours, and then further down to his dick and the way your glossy lips wrapped around it and the fucking lipstick stains you were leaving around him. how was he meant to last like this? (here’s a hint: he wasn’t!)

pushing against his hand for a moment, he lessens his grip as you pull off him with a sickening schliiickk noise and wrap one hand around his base as you pant for air, looking up at him with doe-like eyes.

“shouto?”

“yeah?” his heart is pounding and he bites his lip as he looks down at your flushed face that now had a thin sheen of sweat over it, and he feels almost ashamed for the way he immediately craves your mouth back around him.

“i want you to cum in my mouth, okay?” you tell him with a soft smile, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear before taking him into your mouth once again, all the way down until your nose was flush against his mix-matched pubic hair and you had to actively breathe through your nose so you didn’t hurl. shallowly beginning to bob your head, your tongue laves over the underside of his veiny cock as the hand previously wrapped around him moves to cup his balls, fondling them softly before giving them a gentle squeeze.

“oh—sweetheart,” he moans, dick twitching violently in your mouth. “don’t stop,” he all but begs you, rolling his hips up, forcing himself further down your throat. you actually do gag at this, but are able to swallow most of your excessive drool down, only some of it spilling over and out of your mouth and onto to your husband’s dick, mixing beautifully with your lipstick stains, and poor todoroki groans at both the sight and feeling.

all it takes is a few more bobs of your head and another squeeze to his balls before they’re tightening and suddenly he’s cumming down your throat—just like you had asked him to. god, he swears you’ll be the death of him!

swallowing around his awfully sensitive length one final time, both to tease him and get his cum down, you pull off of him with another disgustingly wet noise before looking up at him oh-so-sweetly.

the hand that wasn’t still fondling his balls comes to wrap around his dick, pumping it slowly as you press a little kiss to his flushed and shiny tip, licking it playfully and swirling your tongue around it for a moment before you actually stopped teasing his cock with your mouth and just with your hand.

“baby, please—” his voice is uncharacteristically whiney and his hips buck up into your grasp. despite his natural temperature regulation due to his quirk, shouto finds his entire body feeling hot, so hot, thanks to your delicate touch. “just—ah!” he moans softly as your hand begins moving up and down his shaft slowly, moving up and up until you could place your thumb over the slit of his red and swollen head and run it over the horribly sensitive spot.

“god–damn, sweetheart—give me a moment, please,” he begs you, hips bucking upwards as his cock twitches simultaneously. shouto feels like he’s losing his mind as you pump his oversensitive length and he has to keep his eyes away from the mirror lest he nut again—no, the next time he came today, it would be inside you, his beautiful fucking spouse. “just let me breathe.” one of his large hands comes up to run through his hair and push his bangs out of his face just for them to fall right back in place once it exits his hair.

with a scoff and a roll of your eyes, you blow a puff of cold air over his cockhead and let out a playful okay.

“i guess,” you giggle, looking up at him from your spot on the floor. it’s true that your knees were starting to get a little sore, but you figured you were basically done anyway, so, naturally, you went to stand—just for shouto’s massive hands to land on your hips, up under your shirt, and turn you around so that you’re facing the mirror before tugging your panties down to your now reddened knees in one swift movement.

pulling you onto his lap, his painfully hard cock pressed into the crack of your ass, you whine and squirm in your husband’s strong grasp.

“b-baby?” you sound audibly confused and shouto can’t help but smile at your reaction as he presses a kiss to the side of your neck.

“shh,” he hushes you gently, one hand coming down between your legs to stop and rest on your clit.

“sho-shouto,” you can’t help but whine as he applies a slow but firm pressure to your achy bundle of nerves, gently starting to trace teasing circles over it.

“can’t i make you feel good, too?” he whispers into your ear, catching your gaze in the mirror. his heterochromatic eyes are glued to the reflection of yours and you feel a chill run down your spine as he nuzzles his nose against your neck as his middle finger dips down to your dripping slit before bringing it back up to rub against your pulsing clit.

“ah!” an airy breath escapes you and your back arches at his calloused touch. “fuck,” you hiss as he begins pressing soft kisses to the already brusing flesh of your neck and finger moves with experience over your slick button.

the first several times you two slept together, shouto was rather shy, and not particularly bold — always scared he was going to hurt you somehow or fuck up your pleasure, and then you’d want nothing to do with him; so it took a bit of instruction and teaching him what it is you do and don’t like, but shouto, ever the fast learner, quickly caught on and figured out what exactly he had to do and how he had to do it in order for you to feel good.

“that’s what i like to hear,” he mumbles, more to himself than to you, nibbling on the lobe of your ear before blowing a puff of cold air onto it. todoroki could never get enough of the noises you made — the same way you couldn’t get enough of his whimpers and whines — and would do anything in his power to elicit such sweet sounds from you.

“sh-shut up,” is all you’re able to get out, unable to think as he brings his middle finger back down to your slit and actually inserts it into you this time — fingering you in the lightest, most teasing manner possible, while he heats up his hand, his right arm wrapping around you tighter to keep you in place.

shouto just chuckles at your poor attempt at a quip as he licks a chilly stripe up the column of your neck, causing you to shiver as a devious grin stretches over your husband’s usually sweet face.

“oh, honey,” his voice is low and deep and admittedly makes your pussy clench around the single finger stuffed in it — god, you wish he’d add a second or third to actually stretch you out. and, almost as if he had read your thoughts, shouto curls his finger inside of you before pulling it out about halfway so he could slide another in until—he just stops, one finger half way in you with the tip of another barely poking at your entrance.

“sho–shouto?” you all but whine, hips wiggling futilely, wishing he’d just scissor your cunt open already!

“look in the mirror,” he commands softly. nodding hesitantly, you reluctantly look at your reflection and take in the lewdness of the scene: shouto had your legs spread out over his, keeping them open by borderline entwining your lower legs with his, with his thick ring and middle fingers positioned against your cunt, and his chin now resting on your shoulder, piercing gaze capturing your own.

as he finally begins easing his ring finger into along with the one already in there, you can’t help but squeeze your eyes shut, and just like that, any movement stops.

“i didn’t tell you to close your eyes,” he mutters, right hand coming up to slip under your shirt and pinch a nipple.

“ah! ‘m sorry!” your eyes immediately fly open as you try to focus your gaze on the sight in front of you as shouto’s fingers get progressively hotter the further they slip into you, and suddenly—you were burning from the inside out!

“mmh, shouto….” you whine, one hand coming up to tangle into his hair, giving it a light tug.

your husband merely ignores you as he focuses on pleasing you instead; curling his all too hot fingers at just the right angle, spreading them apart to scissor your pretty pussy, his eyes trained on your reflection and each little way you react to his touch—the way you flinch and try to close your legs, just for him to effortlessly prevent this by spreading his a little wider. god; he had learned to be a little too good at this for your own good.

“nngh—, c’mon baby, don’ be a tease,” is all you’re able to get out as your husband takes his goddamn time fingering you; this couldn’t even be considered as finger-fucking! the feeling of the calloused pads of his heated fingertips rubbing against your already hot inner walls as he pumps them slowly—your internal temperature felt like it was skyrocketing, when in reality, it was only one or two degrees higher, something shouto could easily remedy should he switch hands.

“i’m afraid i don’t know what you’re talking about, lovely,” he smiles gently, beginning to pepper kisses along your neck once more. fuck, you coudn’t stand when he played dumb like that — he had to have known what he was doing!! (and he did! that just wasn’t for you to know.) “if there’s something you want…. then you’ll have to ask for it directly, my dear,” he tells you cheekily, and you can physically feel his smile against your skin as he begins to suck against the junction of your neck and shoulder.

god! damn him!

“f-faster,” you whine, wiggling and rolling your hips against his slow moving fingers, just for shouto to pull them nearly all the way out of you. “sh–shouto! goddammit! please don’t tease me!” you plead, eyes beginning to lightly water over out of sheer frustration. tugging at his hair, you try to twist around enough to give him another kiss — just for him to avoid your lips, too!

“uh-uh,” he chides, his freezing free hand pinching one of your nipples, and you gasp louder than you would have liked to at the feeling. “watch yourself in the mirror ‘n ask nicely and you can have anything you want, princess,” shouto says softly, physically unable to stop smiling. sure, most of the time, his teasing was truly unintentional, the other half of the time (a little less than half, really, it was closer to 60/40) was completely on purpose, as hearing you whine his name or for him to touch you never failed to turn him on or bring a somewhat sadistic smile to his usually stoic face.

nodding, you refocus your attention onto the large vanity mirror, with the chair scooted far back enough so you could clearly see his fingers buried in your glistening cunt, and you physically can’t control the whimper that slips past your throat as his index and pinky fingers move to spread your slick folds apart so you could get a better view of what shouto thought was the most perfect pussy in the world—ever since you’d first had sex (despite his initial nerves), he had quickly grown addicted to the feeling of your cunt wrapped oh-so-snuggly around him.

finally, your husband finally began to finger you in earnest, crooking his fingers in such a delicious way so deep inside you—much further than your own fingers could ever reach, anyway—and suddenly you wish it was his dick filling you up, not just his fingers..! unbeknownst to you, this was both shouto’s brief way of giving his sensitive cock a rest so he could fuck you properly without creaming too early and making sure you’d get to cum twice, too.

“you’re so tense,” his voice has a saccharine lilt to it, and you feel goosebumps erupt over your skin as he watches the way his fingers pump in and out of you, and he can feel his length twitch and drool pre as he imagines your cunt fluttering around his dick instead of his fingers.

“‘s not my fault—you’re not exactly making it easy f’me to relax,” you complain, shifting around in his grip as you give his hair a light tug.

“oh? i’m not?” his gentle smile stretches into a shit eating grin as he slides his fingers out of you entirely before bringing his hand up to his mouth to lick your slick off the digits that had been nearly knuckle-deep inside you less than a moment ago, except—he only sucks off his ring finger, leaving the middle one for you to suck on instead, bringing it up to your plump, glossy lips whilst softly telling you to open your mouth. of course, you obeyed without a second thought, happily, and almost hazily, swirling your tongue around his finger in a similar manner you had done with his cock. the action reminded shouto of such, and he lets out a quiet groan at the feeling.

“mmh,” you hum pleasantly around the digit that was pressing down lightly against your tongue. you weren’t too pleased, however, about the lack of stimulation your pussy was receiving, and you decided to make this known to your husband.

catching his eye in the mirror, you let out a little whine and wrap both your hands around his thick wrist as you purposely let the drool in your mouth build up so it begins to seep down his hand and slowly trickle onto his forearm.

“baby, please. please just fuck me,” you mumble, tugging on his wrist to pull his calloused, slick finger from you spit-soaked mouth.

shouto really was planning to finger you to an orgasm, honest, but—when you asked so sweetly, he just couldn’t say no to you!

“fuck,” he groans, both hands quickly settling onto your hips in order to lift you enough to align your soaked slit with his flushed and achy cock. “y’know i can’t tell you no when you ask like that,” he says before letting you slowly sink all the way to the base.

“you feel so good,” he groans out as your puffy pussy wraps around him tightly.

“s–so do you,” you whine out, feeling his head kiss the entrance to your cervix. jesus christ, how was it possible to hit so deep? “s-so, so good,” you tell him, trying to look at the two of you in the mirror and the way your cunt envelopes him and—it’s just too embarrassing to look at!

squirming in his grasp, you try to turn around to better face him so you could plant a kiss to his plump lips. shouto, however, simply uses one large hand to squish your cheeks and hold your face in place to watch as he lazily fucks up into in the mirror. no matter how bad he wanted to kiss you (that would have to come (cum) after you), he just enjoyed that flustered look on your face too much to not indulge in it! besides, he was always so sweet to you, he’s sure you can handle some light teasing.

“aa–ahh! sh-shouto! fuck!” you cry as he begins bouncing you up and down his needy dick. you whimper at the way he throbs inside you and your cunt clenches tightly around him—making your husband groan loudly too. “sho–!” it’s all you can do to look into the mirror at the lewd sight, and embarrassingly enough, it only serves to turn you on even more.

“hmm?” it’s all he can do to hum out a response as he keeps you moving up and down, strong arms moving with ease as he rhythmically rolls his hips up into yours. “what—” he hisses from the way his tip hits against your cervix, with nowhere left to go. “what is it, love?” he does his best to answer coherently, needing you to be the one fucked dumb first. without a second thought, one hand abandons your hip to slide down your abdomen all the way back between your legs where he began rubbing slow, tight circles against your neglected clit.

“ah! f–fuck!” you moan as he soon sets a steady pace against your throbbing bud, steadily working you up to an orgasm, the knot in your stomach tightening.

it doesn’t take much longer before you’re quivering in shouto’s grip and whining about how close you were, and he can’t help but feel a sense of pride wash over him as he pushes you closer to the edge.

as your cunt clenches and flutters around him, shouto feels himself growing uncomfortably close as well, and soon finds himself asking if it’s okay if he came inside.

“yes, please, baby,” you whine and nod your head, one hand moving to entangle itself into shouto’s hair as he finally allowed you to kiss him once again.

and, with a few more thrusts, you find yourself cumming in sync as the horribly tense knot in your stomach finally snaps and you’re creaming all over your husband’s cock.

“oh fuck,” he groans, dick pulsing once, twice, before finally squirting his thick, hot seed deep into your womb, leaving you feeling both gross and contently full.

after rubbing your clit throughout the duration of your orgasm, shouto still doesn’t stop, even once you began coming down from you high, and you can’t help but jolt in his lap from the oversensitivity.

“sh-shouto, you can—you can st-stop!” you manage to spit out, biting your lower lip as you watch his calloused fingers rub steady circles against your poor clit.

“but—” he pants. “you only— only came once,” he tries to explain, rolling his hips up into you despite his own sensitivity, desperate to make you cum again.

“i– i know, but—’m sensitive, baby,” you try telling him, quickly feeling that familiar knot start to form again. “ple—please!”

despite your pathetic little mewls, your husband ignores you in favor of your excess pleasure, significantly warming up the fingers playing with your puffy clit.

it’s not long before you’re cumming one more time, evening out your total to two—equal to what you had given your oh-so-doting husband (even if you only went out of your way to actually give him a single orgasm—he just happened to cum a second time because you felt so good wrapped around him).

“fuck, baby,” you moan, back arching deeply as he slowly lessens the pressure on your throbbing clit. shouto never disappointed you in bed, or in this case, just simply in the bedroom, and for that, you were eternally grateful.

once you were done making a mess around the length of his dick, your back falls flush against his chest, and you both pant heavily for a long moment before either of you are able to recompose yourselves.

afterwards, shouto helps lift you off his softening dick, and into the bathroom so you could piss (always piss after sex, y’all), before going downstairs to get you a glass of water and then returning back to your shared bedroom to wait in your king sized bed. once you re-entered the room, your husband sits up in the plush bed, with his arms extended out to you, your water already on your nightstand.

with a smile, you make your way over to the bed, with only slightly wobbly legs, and curl up in your loving shouto’s strong arms, where he holds you close to him, resting your head against his chest, where you could hear his beating heart—a sound so soothing you were almost lulled asleep by it until you heard the quietest, faintest whisper of, “you’re so beautiful,” and you can’t help the grin that breaks out across your face as you tell him he is too, something shouto has never been too sure of how to process, but over time, as the compliments he received increased, he slowly learned how to handle and accept them properly.

“i love you,” you say in sync, and you let out a little giggle at this before saying jinx! and pressing a kiss to his cheek before nuzzling your head back against his chest and yawning deeply.

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novaursa · 3 months ago

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Hello there

Can I request a HOTD! one shot that is Aemond x Younger!Sister Reader in which she is the most beloved of Allicent's children and she nicknames the songbird due to her love of singing and her voice is said to be almost celestial. Many suitors ask for her hand but Aemond being the protective brother he is doesn't want it to happen not only because its his duty to protect her but he also loves her as well and wants to make her his wife. Ill let you go wild in terms of the story, i trust your skills and i love all your other works Thanks so much!

And If They Ask for You

Requests are closed

- Summary: They wanted to marry you off, but Aemond didn't let them. And he never will.

- Pairing: sister!reader/Aemond Targaryen

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround @idenyimimdenial

- A/N: ❤️

The air in the council chamber was thick with the mingled scents of parchment, beeswax candles, and the faint trace of myrrh that clung always to Viserys’s robes. The king, throned at the head of the table beneath a high-arched window that bathed his face in morning light, looked half-asleep and yet strangely lucid this day. His once-robust frame had withered, but his voice, though slow, carried the weight of authority. Around him sat the familiar faces of court—Ser Otto Hightower upright and silent as a sentry at his place, Lord Larys Strong half-shadowed and smiling behind his fingertips, Grand Maester Orwyle shuffling parchments, and Lord Tyland Lannister with his fingers steepled, his gaze sharp.

Aegon lounged across from them, expression bored and fingers idly tracing the edge of his goblet, sipping without permission from the wine set out for Viserys. He was here by command, not desire. But Aemond… Aemond sat upright, his single violet eye fixed, attentive, burning with quiet fire. He was here by invitation—no, by summons. Viserys had looked at him three days past, pale hand trembling atop the armrest of the Iron Throne, and said in his brittle voice, “You must learn the work of kings, my son. Come to the council. Watch. Listen.”

And Aemond had obeyed.

They had spoken first of trade and taxes, of casks of Dornish wine delayed in the Stepstones, of an illness spreading through Lannisport, of the Black Cells overcrowded. Aegon yawned through it all, whispered something lewd to Tyland, and earned a glare from Otto, but Aemond had not blinked. His mind turned over every word, every coin, every name.

Then Lord Orwyle cleared his throat. “Your Grace,” he began delicately, unrolling a scroll and setting it before the king, “there is the matter of your daughter, the princess…”

That name—your name—was not spoken aloud, but it didn’t need to be.

The moment it was implied, Aemond stilled. His fingers curled around the armrest of his chair. He knew what was coming. The talk of alliances. Of offers. Of lordlings come crawling like dogs in heat, drawn by the mere idea of you.

Otto, ever practical, picked up the thread. “She is of age now. Nearly sixteen. A treasure of our house, and the court is flush with suitors. The Lords of the Reach, the Vale, and even from the Free Cities have sent word. They ask for her hand, and rightly so. She is—”

“A songbird,” Larys murmured, lips curved with something that might’ve been admiration or something darker. “Sweet-voiced, gentle-hearted, and beloved by all who hear her sing. There are rumors that she is half-divine, sent from the Seven themselves.”

Viserys chuckled weakly, eyes distant with memory. “She used to sing to me when the pain kept sleep away. Her voice… like starlight through mist.”

Aemond said nothing. His jaw had gone rigid. He stared straight ahead, but his vision had blurred. Not with tears. With rage.

“She would make a fine match for Lord Cregan Stark,” Orwyle continued with no sense of the shifting air. “He is young, powerful, and fiercely loyal to the crown. A union with the North would bring strength. Or perhaps Lord Borros Baratheon. He has four daughters and no sons, and he would cherish a princess of royal blood to elevate his house.”

“She’s too soft for the Stormlands,” Otto noted, “but the Vale has sent sweet letters. Ser Gerold Royce’s son is well-bred and eager to please. Runestone would be—”

“No.” The word rang out like the tolling of steel.

Heads turned.

Aemond rose slowly from his chair, his hand clenched against the pommel of his sword—not because he meant to draw it, but because he needed something to anchor himself.

“No,” he said again. “She will not marry any of them.”

Otto raised a brow. “It is not your place—”

“She is my sister,” Aemond snapped. “She is blood of my blood. You speak of sending her to cold stone castles, of handing her over like coin in a purse. You forget that she is not some… broodmare to be bartered for allegiance.”

“She is a princess of the realm,” Tyland interjected calmly. “Marriage is her duty, and alliances are—”

“And what of Aegon?” Aemond demanded, voice rising like a whip crack. “Was it not decided he should marry Helaena? Was it not called tradition, that blood weds blood to preserve the line? That the gods would smile upon it?”

At that, Aegon sat upright. “Leave me out of your madness, brother.”

“You have her,” Aemond snarled, lip curling. “You—who mock the crown, who drink yourself senseless, who bed whores and maids in the same breath—you were given our sister to wed. And now they speak of giving her away? No. If you may take a sister for wife, so may I.”

The words echoed in the chamber, awful in their clarity.

Viserys stirred in his seat, the mask of age slipping from his face. “Aemond…”

But Aemond would not be silenced. “She is mine to protect. Mine to cherish. No lord in this realm will ever deserve her. And I will not stand by while you sell her name to the highest bidder.”

Then, without waiting for dismissal, he turned on his heel. His boots struck the stone floor like thunder as he stormed from the chamber, the door slamming shut behind him.

In the silence he left behind, none dared speak. Not even Otto. Only the soft crinkle of parchment as Orwyle quietly rolled up the list of suitors, setting it aside—for now.

The storm that followed Aemond out of the council chamber did not break with thunder, but with the quiet wrath that hung from his shoulders like a velvet cloak soaked in blood. He descended the steps of Maegor’s Holdfast with swift, purposeful strides, the sword at his hip jangling with each step, the weight of the conversation behind him pressing hard against his ribs. The whispers of courtiers and gold cloaks brushed past his ears like gnats, but he heard none of it. His pulse throbbed too loudly, his thoughts were thick with you—always you.

He needed to see you.

The gardens behind the Tower of the Hand were still wrapped in early sunlight, the hedges gleaming with dew, the scent of blooming roses and lavender perfuming the air like a whisper from some gentler world. It was there that you often passed your mornings, far from the breathless intrigues of court, laughing softly among your ladies as if the weight of the realm could never touch you. He found you where he always did—beneath the arching white trellis, where the pale roses bloomed year-round, even in cold.

You sat upon a carved stone bench, draped in pale blue and silver, the color of sky at dawn, your hair unbound in waves across your shoulders. One of your ladies-in-waiting was braiding a ribbon into your sleeve while another knelt before you, holding out a small harp that glimmered with polished ivory and gold. You smiled as you spoke to them, your voice like wind chimes in a summer breeze—soft, clear, unearthly. Aemond’s breath caught in his throat.

“My prince,” said the eldest of the girls, rising and dipping into a curtsy the moment she saw him. The others followed, eyes wide, startled by his abrupt approach.

You looked up at him then, your eyes alight, unaware of the fury that still curled like smoke beneath his skin. “Aemond,” you said, your voice gentle, sweetened with delight. “You’ve come to chase the sun with me again?”

His lips parted, but the words would not come. Instead, he simply stood for a moment, drinking in the sight of you, anchoring himself in your presence. The silver threads at your sleeves, the glow of your skin in the light, the way the corners of your mouth tilted up, curious and patient, waiting for him to speak.

“Leave us,” Aemond said, and though his voice was calm, the ladies did not hesitate. They fled like birds startled from a tree, casting backward glances as they went.

You blinked at him once they were gone. “You’re angry,” you said softly. “I can see it in your shoulders.”

He paced once, then again, like a wolf pacing the border of his cage. “I was at council,” he said at last, though he did not speak of what was said. His voice was low, clenched between his teeth. “The air there chokes me. I needed—” He looked at you. “I needed to breathe.”

You tilted your head. “And I am fresh air?”

“Yes.” His eye flickered, sharp and bright as flame. “You are.”

A silence stretched between you, filled only by the distant sound of water trickling from a marble fountain and the rustling of branches above. When he moved, it was with the grace of a predator, silent and sure, until he was standing before you, close enough to reach out but not daring to do so.

“I do not like when they speak of you,” he said finally, quietly, his voice trembling at the edges despite his control. “They speak of your beauty, your voice, your kindness as if you were some sweet thing to pluck from a tree and devour.”

You lowered your gaze, lashes brushing your cheek. “They always speak. It does not reach me here.”

“It will.” His voice deepened. “It always does. They will try to take pieces of you. They will carve away what they do not understand. That is what this court does.”

You looked at him then, your expression unreadable. “And what will you do?”

He stepped closer. “Watch over you.”

His hand lifted—hesitated—and then brushed a lock of hair from your brow with careful reverence. “Always. As I did when you were a babe in the cradle and cried for the stars. As I did when you scraped your knee falling from your pony and bled all over your stockings. As I will do, every day forward, whether I am beside you or not.”

You blinked up at him, a small breath caught in your throat. “Why?”

He said nothing at first. Then, softly, as if the words might shatter if spoken too loudly, “Because there is nothing in this world more precious to me.”

You stared at him, stunned into silence. Your lips parted slightly, but the words faltered on your tongue. He gave you no time to find them.

Aemond leaned forward, and for a moment his forehead pressed to yours. His touch was cool, his breath warm. “You need not understand. Only know this—I will let no one harm you. No one take you. No one change you.”

And then, as swiftly as he had come, he stepped back—his eye lingering, voice gone, heart still burning behind his ribs. Without another word, he turned and strode from the garden, leaving only the imprint of his vow behind, and the echo of your name held in silence.

#house of the dragon #hotd #fire and blood #hotd x reader #hotd x you #hotd x y/n #house targaryen #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #x reader #reader insert

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jweekgoji · 11 months ago

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Yandere!Five/Reader (platonic/headcanons)

the story contains: spoilers for season 4 (+ some changes in plot), yandere!five(-s), strictly platonic, five here is in his 20s (physically) and in his late 60s (mentally), overprotective old man five, soft yan!Five, OOC cuz it's yanderes 🤷

I really like to imagine Five being overprotective over someone young and still full of joy. You can be either a kid of one of his siblings, or just a random child he found during his time in The Commission. It wouldn't be that far away from reality, The Handler took little Lila and trained her to do the dirty job, no one would be surprised if that creepy woman ends up kidnapping another child born on October 1st for herself.

Either way, Five is a good familial figure. We all saw how he acts towards little Grace, making small cheering comments from time to time to his niece when she is enjoying her birthday party. I expect him to be much softer if it's someone who is always close to him and constantly tags along with Five. Let's say, he knows you enough to let you go with him at the end of Season 3, since all of his siblings left, he basically has no other choice but to be the only one who has to protect you.

At first, he might get a little irritated because of it. It's not because he finds you annoying or hates being around kids. The problem is, he is not a social person himself. He never had a proper childhood because he spent 45 years stuck in the apocalypse. Then his time in The Commission, stuck with people either invading his personal space, or always staring at him due to him being him. The man got no time for a good rest. He also got no experience in how he should take care of a kid.

Despite a good bag of problems on his back, like the fact that he is still considered a child himself because of his appearance, no job, no money, no place to stay, he somehow gets everything you need. It would probably cost him a lot of pride to sacrifice, people constantly saying «Aww, are you looking after your little sibling at such age? Where are your parents?» makes him want to say something snarky, but he would bite his tongue, since he doesn't want people to ask more questions. He is used to doing everything on his own, dealing with every trouble by no one but himself because it's how he got things done for ages. Not so surprising, Five is pretty good at it.

When he gets his job as a CIA agent, he does not get so much time to be with you, he's more busy even though he is «the one of the professional young agents», trying to investigate more and more. But I believe that he would absolutely think about you during his work, he would go nonchalantly in his mind «Should I buy them the cereal with that dumb colourful toy inside? No, that stuff has too much sugar for someone their age—», which is pretty ironic since Five has a little sweet tooth himself, knowing his famous toasts with peanut butter and marshmallows. He doesn't give you a chance to eat that stuff too much anyways, because he believes « You'll get to eat those when you grow older», while you probably pout and tug on his clothes, trying to make him share with you this tasty sweet thing with tons of deadly sugar! He will give up after a good 15 minutes of you jumping around, being noisy and whiney, so he would roll his eyes and give you like less than 1/3 of the toast, saying 'here is your half, happy now?🙄'. At least he managed to keep you quiet for some time, while he can focus on some little time of his rest.

Five wants you to be independent just like him. Mainly because he doesn't want to think about potential scenarios where you are without him, all defenseless and have no idea what to do. He will teach you everything, how to protect yourself, how to use the oven, who you should call immediately if something happens (he will probably write a phone number with a marker on your wrist, since kids tend to be forgetful and easily distracted and he does NOT take such a risk).

But Five would never push or press on you, he doesn't want to make another child assassin with childhood trauma, think of it as a grandfather taking you to the lake to teach you how to fish. He is constantly near your side, guiding gently but firmly, to you it's mostly about having fun but also learning new things. Five will praise you, give you some advice and will pet your head if you do something right. I do believe he is overprotective, that he doesn't want to even let you near anything dangerous, but he's also paranoid that if another apocalypse comes back, you should be able to survive.

When Five gets his powers back and reunites with his siblings, you will always be with him. Of course I can imagine him having a nanny to call so you would be away from all his family stuff and there is someone whom he can trust enough, but...he might trust himself more than anyone else (but also it's more interesting for the story than you being somewhere away from all the fun lol). When weird things start to happen, Five is looking for anyone even slightly suspicious. Why is this Elf Guy looking at him? Is that guy looking at YOU ? Stop looking at his kid!

Thankfully for him, you weren't around when Lila and Five stuck in that subway. But instead of spending years here, giving up on the idea of coming back home, that would never happen. Because come on, it's Five. He would never give up on coming back to his family and you, someone he also considers as a part of his family. Maybe they're not ideal, they might hate each other, sometimes even annoy him, but he would never allow himself at least a single minute of proper rest since he believes that his only priority is to come back to people he cares about.

The moment he finds the notes on how to come back, he will do it in an instant. When he sees his family safe - he is happy, even though he would hide his inner feelings. You're a little confused when he just hugs you tightly to his chest all of the sudden, sighing in relief the moment he realizes you're with him. Still the same little you, not a single change in your appearance. « Something happened?» you ask softly, carefully placing your arms around him. for some reason, it feels weird. he was never a person who could hug you just because he feels like it. the only time he might give you that it's only if you initiate it, needing comfort because you were afraid of storm or just woke up from the nightmare. « No, no, just stay like that for a little bit,» Five whispers, trying to calm his racing heart. he's thankful that this body at least can take all the stress he constantly experiences in his life. you are probably surprised and confused but he doesn't care about it now. he just came back to you after years of being apart. at least for him it was, for you — a few hours. Despite how unusual it makes you feel, you don't question it, you will give him all the comfort he deserves after whatever he went through.

A good happy ending we deserve would probably be Five (accidentally) taking you to this buffet full of his other versions. You're probably so shy and awkward to see all of them, so you stick closer to him, holding his hand. Five is a little more protective too, he doesn't trust his other selves as we know. I can imagine a little you being so scared to even make a single move, because the moment you look away, you might get lost! Is that your Five? Or is it the one who's near the other table? Why is that Five drunk? When did he find the apron?? But all of them are very nice to you. Five who works as a waiter would gladly help you to find your guardian and maybe he'll spoil you with food they serve here— Your Five is definitely not happy with how much attention you gain from.. other versions of him, but he knows that they all care the same of you.

#yandere x reader #yandere tua #five hargreaves x reader #tua x reader #yandere five hargreeves #yandere five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves #yandere imagines #yandere number five #number five x reader #number five #platonic yandere

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springlockscars · 2 years ago

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clueless (stepfather!w. afton/fem!reader)

pairing: stepfather!william afton | steve raglan/fem!reader content tags: daddy kink, size kink, age gap, praise kink, multiple orgasms, loss of virginity, hand jobs, blow jobs, grinding, first kiss/making out, inexperienced, come swallowing, vaginal fingering. summary: your stepfather is finding it harder and harder to resist you, while you remain entirely oblivious. PREFACE: the reader in this fic is 18+ in age. while phrasing like "little", "baby girl" and "daddy" are used, this terminology is not indicative of the age of the reader. the reader is 18+. minors do not interact. word count: 6,411 tags: @dilfkiss read on AO3

18+ content below cut. minors do not interact.

note: I took "dumb!stepdaughter reader" to mean oblivious as to how horny she makes stepfather!william, I hope thats ok! also I know you only asked for a oneshot but I got so carried away lmao. enjoy! ♡

William was so engrossed in his work that he didn’t even hear your knocks on the basement door. You cracked the door open slightly when he didn’t respond to see him hunched over his workstation. Flashes of light routinely flickering in front of his eyes as he solders metal to metal.

You sneak through the entrance and tiptoe down the stairs, stopping right behind him. You wait for him to put the soldering iron down before hugging him from behind, pressing yourself against his warm, broad back. William startled, too distracted to even realise you were there.

“Honey!” he exclaimed, “what’re you doing? Be careful, you could’ve gotten hurt,” he turns around pulling off his visor to look at you, but his eyes lock in place when he sees you. Your legs, bare to the upper thigh, hips covered by the thin fabric of your pyjama shorts, top half covered by an oversized sweatshirt he recognised as one of his own. He swallowed hard.

“I’m sorry,” you removed your arms from him, “I just wanted to come see you, see what you were working on.”

He couldn’t resist your pouting face, “c’mere, let me show you,” William patted his lap, encouraging you to take a seat. You settle down and turn to face the worktop which was covered with bits and pieces, metal and wire.

His hands rest naturally on your hips, feeling just how thin the fabric of your shorts really was. William had to stifle a groan when you wiggled in his lap to get comfortable. He immediately felt his blood rushing south, his length twitching under your backside. Taking a deep breath, he rested his chin on your shoulder and stroked the bare expanse of your thigh. There was something about seeing you in his clothes made his dick twitch in his trousers.

“What is it?” you asked curiously.

He cleared his throat, “it’s an elbow joint that belongs to one of the animatronics. Some parts needed replacing, and it needed oiling. The movement was too… stiff,” he was thinking about what else was stiff.

“That’s so cool, it’s so clever how you make these things,” your voice was full of wonder, like a kid on Christmas. You picked up the cold metal in your hands and shifted on William’s lap trying once again to get comfortable.

“Thank you honey, that m-means a lot,” his breath caught in his throat as you wiggled again.

Something was definitely poking you, and William knew exactly what it was. You, however, were none the wiser, entirely distracted by playing with the elbow joint in front of you.

William rested his forehead against your shoulder, relishing in the feeling of you pressed against him like this. He thanked whatever god may be out there for the good fortune of your mother working out town for the week, he knew he’d be in big trouble if she were to barge in right now. He’d be in big trouble if she ever found out about the thoughts he had about you, his stepdaughter.

He knows he shouldn’t feel these feelings or think thoughts like these, but how is he supposed to resist with the way you’re grinding your ass into his erection right now. And to top it all off, you had no idea just what you were doing to him. Completely clueless.

“Are you tired?” you ask over your shoulder.

So naïve, “a little, yeah. How about we go back upstairs, hm? Relax and watch a movie maybe?”

“Sure!” you hop off his lap, the cold night air filling the space you occupied. He once again felt his dick twitch and strain against the fabric of his pants.

“You head on up and pick something out for us to watch. I’ll be right there; I just need to do one more thing.”

“Okay!” you shouted cheerfully. William turned to watch you go, your shorts riding up your legs as you ascend the stairs, revealing the curve of your ass cheeks at the very top of your thighs.

You close the door behind you, turning the basement dim again. William leaned his head back against his chair and groaned, deep and desperate. He hastily shoved his slacks down his legs and freed his now rock-solid cock from the confines of his underwear, wasting no time in pumping the appendage with a rough hand.

His lips parted, hot breaths escaping his lips, William imagined you on his lap once more. How you’d grind against him, no clothes, skin to skin. He imagined your moans, soft and pathetic, just for him. He imagined caressing your breasts, rolling the nipples to hard points, how you’d toss your head back as you rode him and screamed his name. He imagined his hand was your pussy, hot and wet, gripping and squeezing him until he came. How tight would you be? How deep could his length reach inside you?

It was bad, his own innocent stepdaughter. But it was the innocence that really turned him on. William wondered how much experience you had. He imagined being your first, the first cock to split you in two, the first one to hear you come.

Sensing the apex of his climax, William bit his lip and thrusted wildly into his hand, “that’s it baby, that’s it, you’re gonna… ungh, make daddy come.” He dug his nails into the leather arm rest as his hips stuttered, breathing ragged, until he finally comes hard all over himself.

His moans are high pitched and broken, head slumped back against the chair with the adrenaline of his orgasm dissipating through his body.

William now has an answer to a decision he didn’t even realise he had to make.

He was going to fuck you.

William finally gathered the strength to clean himself up with the tissues on his desk and compose himself enough to meet you in the living room. When he enters however, he has to grip the wood of the door frame to keep himself from collapsing right there on the floor.

“Honey… what are you doing?”

“Trying to fix the DVD player, the cable came out,” on your hands and knees underneath the TV stand, ass in the air. William could see the mound of your pussy through your- he shook his head, as though he could physically shake the dirty thoughts from his mind.

“D-do you need a hand?” he manages to choke out.

“No, I almost got it,” you spread your legs wider to bend down further, looking for the perfect angle that would allow the cable to slide into the slot, “I don’t think I need a degree in robotics and engineering to fix the TV,” you teased.

William takes a seat on the couch right behind you. From this angle, he can see right up underneath the sweatshirt you were wearing, his sweatshirt, seeing the faint outline of your breasts. There was no way you didn’t know what you were doing to him. There was no way someone could be this oblivious.

William began daydreaming again. Oh, what it would feel like to take her by the hips at this angle, slowly pressing into her tight-

“Got it!” you exclaimed, leaning back on your knees to check the TV.

Snapping back to reality, William snatched a pillow from the couch and placed it on his lap before you could turn around. Despite bringing himself to a climax a mere few minutes ago downstairs, he could feel himself hardening again already.

“Okay! This is one I’ve wanted to watch for a while now, but I’ve been too scared to watch it on my own,” you sit down on the sofa right next to him, leaning comfortably into his side.

The movie opens with a blonde woman making popcorn on the stove, before getting harassed on the phone by a mystery man and ultimately murdered in her own yard.

“Oh my god!” you flinch away from the gore to bury yourself into your stepdad’s side.

William chuckles, “don’t worry baby I’m here,” he wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer and leaning his cheek comfortingly against the top of your head.

In your panic, you had wrapped your arm around his midsection. William felt his dick respond to the proximity of your hand. He tried desperately to steady his breathing while stroking your back.

William thought for a moment that the horror movie would be able to distract him from the way you were pressed against him, until the teenage couple on the screen began making out and groping each other in bed.

Feeling emboldened, he decided to tease you a little, “now, don’t you be getting any ideas young lady. I don’t want to open your bedroom door one day and find you tangled up with a boy like that.”

You whipped your head up to look at him, arm still draped over his waist, “no way! I don’t even like any boys like that. They’re all weird anyways.”

“Weird how?” William probed.

“Like…” you thought for a second, “they’re all so dumb and immature. I want to find someone like how mom found you.”

Someone like him… Twitch. “That’s sweet, honey.”

“I wouldn’t even know what to do anyways,” you turned back around and laid your head in William’s lap against the pillow.

His brows furrowed, “what do you mean?” he rested his hand on your waist, stroking light circles into the fabric of his sweatshirt.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, “like kissing and stuff. I’ve never done it… I would probably be really bad at it.”

William was dumbstruck, you really were completely innocent just like he thought. “So,” he started tentatively, “you’ve never kissed anyone?”

You shook your head in his lap, his breath hitching as you pressed the cushion further into his building erection. You didn’t notice.

“And you’ve never… gone further than that? Nobody has touched you?” he was pushing it now; you were bound to catch on.

You shook your head ‘no’ again, “I’m scared it’ll hurt…” You were silent for a moment, before sitting up suddenly turning on your knees and facing him, the movie long forgotten at this point. “Does it hurt? Is it supposed to?” Your eyes wide with curiosity, just like they were down in the basement.

“I- um,” William cleared his throat, painfully aware his hand was still at your waist, “no. No, it’s not supposed to hurt. If your partner is mature enough, and, you know, pays attention to you and what you need, it should feel like the best thing in the world. For the both of you.”

You nodded, deep in thought.

“Have you really never kissed anyone before?” William asked again, still not quite believing it.

“Never,” you shook your head, “how do you do it?”

William’s breath caught in his throat, “w-what?”

“How do you kiss someone like that,” you were serious.

He closed his eyes and braced himself, now or never, he thought. “I can show you, if you’d like.”

Your eyes widened once again and you nodded rapidly, “please,” you begged, scooting closer.

William brought his large palm to your cheek, caressing the soft skin gently, his other hand still resting at your waist, “close your eyes,” he ordered. You obeyed dutifully.

He glanced down at your plush lips, parted as your breathing quickened in anticipation. William leaned in closer and pulled you towards him to meet him halfway. His own eyes fluttered closed as your lips connected. Softly at first, then the hunger overtook William as he grasped your face in both hands, pulling you even closer towards him as he deepened the kiss. He couldn’t stop now.

He licked at your lips, earning a gasp which he quickly took advantage of. Pressing his tongue desperately against yours, you moaned at this brand-new sensation.

Instinctively needing to be closer to him, you shoved the cushion off his lap and took its place, your knees either side of his thighs. You grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, surrendering completely to your stepdad’s mouth.

Teeth and tongues clashing, William bites your bottom lip. This is everything he’s been dreaming about. You melting against him so deliciously. His erection grows harder still, now he’s sure you know exactly what it is because you’re grinding down against it in his lap.

William pulls away from your mouth, chest heaving. He has to push you backwards by your own chest as you try to chase the kiss. “Slow down baby, slow down,” he strokes your face with his thumbs.

“Is kissing always like that?” you pant, still gripping onto his shirt for dear life.

William chuckles, “it should be,” his hands drop to your waist as he buries his face in your neck, placing kisses there too, “I can’t believe you’re this innocent.”

He feels you lean into his touch, “you know, you look so pretty in my sweatshirt, baby girl,” he slides his hands under the fabric to touch your skin.

You’re completely drunk on his touch, mind empty, you don’t know how to respond.

“I’ve thought of touching you like this… for a long time,” he says between kisses.

“Really?” you ask, dumbstruck, “why me?”

William pulls away to look at you in the face, “are you serious?” he searches your eyes, “oh honey, you’re so beautiful. Everything about you drives me insane.” Hands still massaging the skin beneath the sweatshirt, “and seeing you in this, in my shirt and these tiny fucking shorts. Oh my god,” William leans in once again, latching onto your neck and sucking a bruise into the skin.

The stimulation sends jolts through your entire body, traveling down to your core between your legs. You grind on William in an attempt to relieve the pressure. He leans back, kissing along your jawline, “does that feel good?” he asks.

You only whine in response.

“Nuh-uh baby don’t play dumb. Use your words, tell me what you feel.”

“Feels good,” you whimper softly. The sound of your desperate voice making his dick strain harder in his slacks.

“Where does it feel good? Tell me.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks, “in-in between my legs.”

William runs his middle finger over your clothed mound, “right here?” he asks teasingly, applying pressure to the area he knows your clit will be, and by the pitch increase in your voice he must’ve guessed right.

“Ah! Y-yes!” you press your hips against his touch harder, chasing the stimulation.

William pulls his hand away but before you even get the chance to protest, his fingers are sliding below the waistband of your pyjama shorts. “Right here?” he asks again, running two fingers down across your clit.

You buck uncontrollably against his hand, almost overstimulated having never been touched there in this way before. Not even giving you time to respond, he slides his fingers lower, finding your entrance completely soaked with your arousal.

“Oh baby, you’re so wet for me already. Just for me,” he buries his head in your neck again, inhaling your scent.

William can’t believe he’s really touching you like this, and he’s the first. Your first. His cock pulsing harder at the very thought.

He rubs your pussy slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you too quickly. There’ll be time for that. He spreads your slick all around and up towards your clit, circling over the little nub tenderly.

“A-ah,” you cry, “daddy!”

William groans deep in his chest, “what did you just call me? Say that again,” he demands.

“D-daddy! It- it feels so good…”

“Yeah? You like your daddy touching you like this?” he can feel heat rising all the way to his ears.

You whined against his fingers and pleaded, “please.”

William pulls his hand free from between your legs. You cry out and grind down in his lap harder, trying to get the stimulation back. You look at him with watery eyes. He holds eye contact with you as he brings his fingers coated with your arousal to his lips, before running his tongue over them and sucking them into his mouth. Your jaw goes slack as he moans around his own digits, then pulls them from his mouth, now clean.

“I’ve dreamed of what you might taste like, but the reality is even sweeter,” William cups the back of your neck and pulls you in for another desperate open-mouthed kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue and begin rocking back and forth against the bulge in his trousers.

He pulls back and leaves quick pecks against your lips, “do you want to try touching me, honey?”

You nod quickly, kissing him back every time his lips meet yours.

“Scoot backwards a little,” William takes one of your hands in his, finally releasing your death-grip on his shirt. He presses your palm against his bulge between your legs, sighing at the pressure, “pull the zip down, that’s it.”

You eagerly pull the zipper down and undo the button at the top, your hands freezing when you don’t know what to do next.

You look back up at William for guidance, his gaze dark with eyes full of lust, “you can touch me, it’s ok,” he reassures.

You caress his bulge lightly through his underwear with your fingertips. It was hot and hard, and it made the heat pool between your legs. Carefully, as though it were a dangerous animal, you pull down his underwear over his hard length, freeing it for the second time today. But not that you knew that.

His cock all but sprung out of his underwear, eliciting a guttural moan from William. Unprompted, you take him in your small hand and begin to slide it up and down.

“O-oh fuck, baby girl,” his head falls backwards against the couch cushions, his hands moving to grip you by the thighs, “just like that, a little harder don’t be shy.”

You followed his instructions, pumping his length in one hand with the other pressed against his chest for support. Pearly white liquid seeped from the hole in the tip, and you had the irresistible urge to lick it like an ice cream. Your eyes travelled up William’s body, settling on the expression of pure pleasure on his face. It made you happy that you were able to make your daddy feel good like this.

William couldn’t think straight. Here you were, his beautiful little stepdaughter, sitting on his lap and pumping his cock. He gazes down at you and his heart thuds in his chest watching you lick your lips.

“Here, move down here,” he slides his hands from your thighs to your waist to help you stand, then kneel on the carpet in front of the couch, William caresses the back of your head from where you are between his legs, “why don’t you give it a kiss, hm?”

You lick your lips again, then eagerly lean in closer, pressing your lips to the inflamed tip. Once, then again.

“A-ah! Oh fuck, b-baby,” William’s voice is desperate, he’s never been so aroused in his life, “keep going, don’t stop.”

His dick is hot against your lips. You dare to lick the pre-come from the tip, earning a tighter grip on the back of your head from William’s hand as you swallow down the salty taste. Eagerly wanting to please him, you become bolder. You lick a thick stripe up almost his entire length from base to tip, William watching through hooded eyes. You do it again, and again, flattening your tongue against the hot flesh.

“Here, baby, put it in your mouth,” he instructed, “wrap your lips around it like that I- oh! That’s it, that’s it!”

You take him into your mouth, sucking on him like an ice lolly on a summer’s day. The sounds he’s making prove to you that you’re doing well. You take the bottom half of his cock, the part your mouth can’t reach, and begin pumping him again.

“Oh my god!” William grips your hair in his fist, guiding your mouth up and down faster and harder, “ungh, just like that, just like that baby you’re doing so well. Taking my cock so well.”

He begins thrusting up into your mouth, penetrating deeper, and deeper into you. With one hand remaining on his length, your other hand grips onto his thigh to steady yourself. With tears building in your eyes, it’s almost too much for you to handle but you don’t want to pull away.

William, fucking into your mouth, has lost all sense of morality. His wife, your mother, could walk through the door right now and he would continue to choke you on his cock until he came. Nothing in the world could stop him at this point.

For the second time today, he feels his climax approaching. Chasing the high, he’s entirely consumed by thoughts of you. He no longer needs to imagine scenarios to beat himself off to, he has the real thing on her knees, devoted to him.

He feels your tongue pressing flat against his length, the increase in blood pressure as you suck him in. The lewd sounds you make as you gag around him and saliva dribbles down your chin.

“So close… I’m so close baby girl. Are you gonna swallow all of daddy’s come, are you gonna take what I give you?”

You hum in response around him, and the vibrations are enough to tip him over the edge. William grips your head firm in his hands, holding it still as he fucks into your mouth two… three, more times, before finally stilling mid thrust, and emptying his load into your mouth and down your throat.

The salty liquid hits your tongue, and you swallow it down instinctively. Licking and sucking the hot appendage, making sure you don’t miss a drop.

William relaxes, arms going slack, and he sinks deeper into the couch cushions. You rise from the floor, crawling back onto his lap to be close to him.

“Was that good, daddy?” you ask, voice quiet and shy.

“Oh baby…” William caresses your back and wipes the saliva from your chin. He then pulls you against his chest into an embrace, “that was incredible, my love. You made daddy feel so good, I’m so proud of you.”

You both lie still for a moment, William coming down from his high, and you listening to the thud of his heartbeat through his chest.

William brushes your hair back, away from your neck, before placing a kiss there, then another, then biting softly, “do you want daddy to thank you, hm?” his breath is hot against your neck.

Once again beginning to squirm in his lap, you nodded your head against his chest. He pushes you up to a seated position, sliding his hands under his shirt to caress the skin of your waist again, “I want you to use your words, baby girl. Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to make me feel good too, daddy. I want you to touch me again…”

He pecks you on the lips, then pulls his sweatshirt over your head in one swift motion, revealing your bare chest right in front of his eyes. Wiliam places a kiss to the centre of your chest, right on the breastbone, before moving across to the left, to suck and nibble at the plush flesh of your breast. His right hand sliding up your body to cup the other one on the right side. Your breathing immediately becomes laboured, William sucking a nipple into his mouth, biting and leaving bruises in his wake.

You were soft beneath his fingers. He felt a twinge in his crotch, becoming aroused all over again by the way you moaned and arched your back into him. William kissed his way lower, as low as this position would allow, before scooping you up in his arms and laying you flat on your back on the couch.

Your eyes widened but were filled with desire as he loomed over your small frame beneath him. He resumed his pathway, tongue trailing down over your abdomen, finally reaching the prize between your legs.

William wasted absolutely no time, whipping off your pyjama shorts, leaving you bare save your white panties. He pressed a kiss to the fabric covering your mound, moving lower and pushing your legs further apart. His mouth watered at the smell of your arousal, eyeing the dark spot on your panties where it had soaked through. He licked a stripe up your soaking cunt through the material, just like you had done to his cock earlier.

“Oh! Oh fuck,” your back arched, your walls clenched around nothing, and you gripped the cushions tight in your hands to ground you.

The taste on his tongue sweet and a little bitter. Your panties clung to your skin, the large man between your thighs making them wetter and wetter with every swipe of his tongue.

With one hand, William pinned your hips down into the soft couch cushions, the other one pressing firmly against your pussy through your panties. He circled his fingers around your clit, high pitched moans tumbling from your lips as you try to grind forward seeking some kind of release.

William, deciding he couldn’t wait any longer, hooked his fingers in the waistband of your soiled panties, pulling them down your thighs and all the way off your legs, discarding them on the ground.

He couldn’t believe the sight before his eyes. Your pussy, swollen and glistening with your arousal, right in front of him. Close enough to stick his tongue out and taste you, and that’s what he did. He buried his face in your cunt and ate you out like a man starved.

You cry out, high pitched and needy. You’ve never felt anything like this before, the way the hot muscle of his tongue slides expertly through your folds, the tip circling your clit, moving back down to poke at your entrance.

The heat was pooling between your legs rapidly, jolts of pleasure were coursing through your body, building in intensity. More, and more. You had no idea such an intense pleasure existed.

William tentatively pressed an index finger to your entrance, you felt your walls stretch and flesh burn as he pushed in deeper, and deeper. You twitched and squirmed under his grip, until the digit was pressed inside you all the way to the knuckle. He pumped it in and out, slow at first, then picking up the pace.

“How does that feel, sweetheart?” William’s voice was heavy with arousal.

The muscles in your stomach twitched, “A-ah, s’good,” your voice was hoarse, “feels so good, ‘ve never felt t-this before, ah!”

“Yeah? Do you want daddy to add one more?”

You can only manage a groan in response.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” William pressed kisses to the flesh of your thighs, his beard scratching your skin, before slowly working another thick finger into your cunt. Taking it as a success when you scream his name and press yourself down harder against him.

William thrusts his fingers firm and deep, curling them every now and again to catch your G-spot, you probably didn’t even know what that was, he thought. He brings his lips to your core again, gently flicking his long tongue over your clit, pressing flat against it, circling around, sucking it into his mouth and biting lightly with his teeth.

You twitch and writhe in place, feeling pressure build within you. Your thighs flex by his head, one of his hands gripping the flesh there hard enough to bruise.

“D-daddy,” you cry.

William raises his head, “I know baby girl, let it happen. Just relax and let go for me,” he goes back to sucking harshly on your clit, fingers fucking into you a little harder than before.

The air feels cold against your skin, the pressure builds higher and higher, your legs tense and toes curl. Your muscles tense more and more, and tighter and tighter. William flicks his tongue over your clit one last time, then all of a sudden, your entire body is convulsing. Your thighs flex and spasm at either side of William’s head.

You scream out and shudder under your stepfather’s touch, “shh that’s it baby, that’s it. Come for daddy, that’s it beautiful,” his pulsing fingers slowed as you rode out your first orgasm, hips rolling against his hand.

Just like William earlier, you go limp against the couch. You can feel aftershocks pulse through your body and down your legs. William pulls his fingers out slowly and you watch through exhausted eyes as he sucks them into his mouth and licks them clean, devouring every morsel of your arousal that coated them.

William holds you by the waist and leans over you kissing your neck softly, moving up to your jawline, before finally connecting his lips to yours. The kiss is deep and full of desire.

He pulls away briefly, “you did so well for me, my little bunny,” then kisses you again, “did that feel good?”

You couldn’t speak. Fatigue engulfed every cell in your boy, all you could do was kiss him back lazily.

“Ohh, did I fuck my baby dumb with my fingers, hm?” William strokes his thumbs over your nipples, your body twitches and you whimper beneath him.

Your whole body was still on fire, you ached for him to touch you again. To bring you to the edge over and over, senses filled with only him. Your fingertips brushed the fabric of his dishevelled shirt, pulling him down closer to you.

Not even fully aware of your own actions, your fingers found the buttons of his shirt and began undoing them, one by one. Lust burned within William; you don’t want to stop… you want more. His lips meet yours once more, with an intensity this time.

He pressed that long tongue of his into your mouth, exploring every curve, devouring you ravenously. After releasing the final button, he shrugged out of the crumpled yellow shirt and tossed it on the ground where your clothes lie. Smoothly, without breaking the kiss, William hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear and pulls them down along with his trousers. He kicks them off and kneels over you, entirely bare on the couch.

William parts your legs to wrap your thighs around his waist. He shuffles forward, a deep, guttural moan spilling from his mouth into yours as his cock, hardening once more, makes contact with your soaking cunt.

Your hips react instinctively, rolling and grinding your core into his. William rocking his own hips rhythmically, sliding deliciously through your folds. The tip of his member bumps your sensitive clit inciting a whine from you in response.

Both of you are a mess of whimpers and groans, grinding and thrusting furiously against each other. A sweat breaks out on William’s skin. He pulls back away from your mouth to kneel up straight, gazing down at where your bodies connect with blurry eyes.

He takes his solid cock in his hand, feeling the blood pulsate through the skin, “I don’t think I’ve ever been so hard in my life… for anyone,” he presses the tip directly through your folds, gathering your arousal. “Do you see what you do to me, baby girl? Look at how hard daddy is for you.”

You lean up on your elbows and follow his gaze down between your legs. William sliding his cock through your slick is a sight to behold. Feeling his heat pulse and throb against your sensitive skin.

You only now realise just how big he is in comparison to you. Knowing full well how much you struggled to take him into your mouth earlier, you feel a sense of panic begin to rise in your chest.

William notices this, and cups your face in his large palm, “don’t worry, honey. Remember what I said? I’m going to take good care of you.”

He takes your hips in both hands and begins to press directly against your entrance, immediately feeling resistance there.

“Oh… Oh my god,” you collapse down onto your back again. Legs parting wider as though that’ll help to accommodate your stepfather’s girth more.

“Breathe for me, bunny. I need you to relax,” William’s voice is thick with need. The need to pound you with all his strength, until your voice breaks and you spill all over him. But he must be patient.

He slides through your folds again, tip bumping your clit a couple of times and making you spasm beneath him before pressing against your tight hole once more. Pushing further and further. More and more.

The pressure ten times more intense than when he entered you with his thick fingers. Curse words spill from your lips, your hands grip William’s arms where he’s holding you firm by the hips. Your breasts squeezed together and heaving with the intensity of your breaths.

One of his thumbs moves to circle your clit, trying to ease the tension in your body. You whine and writhe and beg, a litany of “please”, and “oh god”. William presses harder still, until the bulbous head of his cock pushes through. Your entrance finally yielding to him.

He continues to strum your clit soothingly and gently, allowing you time to get used to the intrusion.

“Talk to me, how does it feel, baby?”

You pant desperately, “s’good… I-ah!” your hips twitch, “It feels so good daddy, you feel s-so good!”

“Oh, honey… I told you it should feel good. You’re being such a good girl for me; I love hearing your beautiful voice.”

William pulls back slightly, and tentatively pushes into you further, groaning when his length does indeed penetrate you deeper. You’re so tight. Never in his life has William felt a pussy like yours, it’s like you were made just for him. He could probably come inside you right here and now, but he fights with all his strength to supress the urge.

He pulls out a little, then slides in again, and again. Over and over. Around half of his length is inside you now, and you’ve never felt anything like it before.

The burn, the stretch… It should be uncomfortable, but it isn’t. Your back arches and your hips rock. You want more. All you can think of is more. More of him, your daddy. More of his kisses, more of his cock, more pleasure. More, more, more.

Tears spill from the corners of your eyes, the feeling is so intense. William picks up the pace, spurred on by the wails slipping past your lips. With every thrust he dives into you deeper, exploring the uncharted territory of your walls, whimpering himself when he feels your cunt squeeze him even tighter.

With every thrust he reaches deeper into you, until he realises his cock is sheathed entirely inside you, “Ah! Oh baby, my baby girl…”

William pulls out, leaving only the tip still buried inside, then plunges back into you all the way to the hilt.

“Daddy!” you cry, feeling every bump and ridge of his length stretch you out.

That word provokes him further, he’s pumping into you relentlessly focusing on chasing his own building high, that knot getting tighter and tighter in the base of his cock.

“Are you close, baby? Are you gonna come again, all over your daddy’s cock this time?”

“P-please daddy, please,” you cry, “I n-need… I want-”

William takes your thigh in his hand, pressing your leg back towards your chest to achieve a deeper angle inside your cunt, “what do you need my bunny? Tell daddy.”

The stimulation you’re receiving leaves you speechless. You babble obscenely and incoherently, fists gripping onto anything you can reach. William’s arms, the couch cushions, your own breasts to pinch at your nipples.

You are completely drunk on the pleasure your stepdad is providing you. Feeling the burn inside begin to peak again just like when he fucked you with his fingers, “daddy, I’m gonna… Oh! I’m gonna-”

“That’s a good girl, come for daddy. Come for me,” William pants, his thumb rhythmically stroking across your clit, assisting you to the peak of your climax.

Arching your back, feeling your walls begin to clench, the heat intensifies until it’s a burning, white hot fire inside you. You scream as your orgasm wracks through your body, wilder than the last one, your whole body shaking and spasming uncontrollably. Your mind delirious with pure pleasure.

William’s grip on both your thigh and hips turns bruising as you come violently on his cock. Your walls pulsating and gripping him, pushing him over the edge of his own orgasm. He pulls you forcefully down against his hips one final time, before stilling, and emptying his seed deep inside you.

He stays there for a moment, until his dick is no longer twitching, and he collapses down on top of you. Both of you breathless and writhing, riding out the most intense orgasms you’ve ever experienced. William holds you by your waist, his face once more buried in your neck. You both cling to each other, skin sticky with sweat, eyes closed as the rush dissipates.

William strokes your skin soothingly, “you’re such a good girl,” he praises, “such a good girl for your daddy.”

You sigh and curl into his embrace. Perfectly content.

“Now baby,” he leans up to look you in the eyes, “this is very important, okay? You can’t tell your mother what we did tonight. It has to be our little secret or we won’t ever get to do it again, do you understand.”

You nod curtly, “I won’t tell, I promise.”

“Good girl,” William presses a kiss to your lips, pulling back when you turn to yawn. “Do you want to come upstairs to bed with me? You can sleep in daddy’s big bed, but we have to keep that a secret from mom too, okay?”

“I’d love to,” your eyes sparkle.

William kisses you once more, before sitting up again and gently pulling out from inside your hot pussy. Your muscles pulse and you sigh at the loss of contact.

“Are you okay?” he checks.

“Just a little sore,” you confess.

“Oh baby,” he pulls you up to a sitting position and strokes your cheek, “come upstairs with me. I’ll take care of you.”

#fnaf #fnaf movie #fnaf smut #five nights at freddy's #william afton #william afton x reader #william afton smut #steve raglan #my works

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inbloomwriting · 5 months ago

Text

Everything to me - Chapter 3

Chapter three - Raspberry

Chapter 1 II Chapter 2

Plot: Jamie Tartt is a lot of things: professional footballer, the island's top scorer .... sexually, extremly handsome. But one thing he never saw himself as was a dad. Too bad he has to deal with the consequences of his own actions. This fic follows reader and Jamie as they navigate life and turn from practially strangers to parents. Pairing: Jaime Tartt x female reader Warnings: Pregnancy, swearing, mentions of food and alcohol, slight mention of sexual intimacy (nothing graphic), strained/toxic parental relationship Notes: I do not have a set uploading schedule. Please bear with me as I work on this story. I know hardly anything about pregnancy, all my information comes from google. Sorry it took so long to update this. I tagged everyone who showed interest in future parts and/or asked to be tagged. Please let me know if you want to be taken off or added to the taglist. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated.

Jamie sleeps like a rock. It’s a new discovery for (Y/N) as she tries to unravel herself from his tight grip. She doesn’t remember falling asleep cuddled up to each other, in fact, she doesn’t remember falling asleep at all. It’s like one moment they were talking about the baby and the next she wakes up to the sun pouring in through the window and Jamie’s quiet snores filling the room. And his arms wrapped around her like a vice.

God that man is clingy.

And, whereas with any other man, this would scare her off, there is something about Jamie that makes the whole thing endearing.

Maybe it’s the fact that they are not dating, not even trying to. It takes some of the pressure off. All she has to be is a good mum and a good friend and while those two things are hard enough as they are, at least there are no romantic feelings involved, no expectations to uphold when it comes to being a girlfriend, a partner.

Jamie sleeps like a rock, doesn’t even so much as twitch when she slips from his grip and rests his arm back on the side of the bed she used to occupy just moments earlier. Even the squeaky floorboard doesn’t wake him as she makes her way downstairs.

A sweet smell permeates the air and makes (Y/N)’s mouth water. This heightened sense of smell is both a blessing and a curse. Mostly a curse. Most smells make her nauseous these days. Not today though, this one just makes her hungry. It smells of sugar and vanilla and all things sweet and warm.

Simon’s smiling face greets her as she rounds the corner into the kitchen. She wonders if this man ever stops smiling. He’s the personification of a ray of sunshine.

“Good morning, come have a seat. I’m making waffles.”

Waffles. (Y/N) can’t remember the last time someone made her waffles for breakfast. Dad did, sometimes when she was little, and stayed with him for the weekend. But then the waffle iron broke and he never got around to buying a new one. So pancakes and bacon it was. Beans sometimes. Sausages if he was feeling particularly fancy.

“I’d love some, thank you! It smells amazing.”

“Yeah? Oh, thank god. I was afraid the smell would be too much and make you feel sick. Only realized that after I poured in half the vial of vanilla essence though.”

The sheepish look on his face puts a smile on (Y/N)’s face. It’s nice someone cares about those little things.

“Never had to deal with anyone pregnant so I don’t know these things but I had a quick Google last night and it says 8 weeks means a heightened sense of smell. Also, the baby is the size of a Raspberry.”

If she didn’t know any better, (Y/N) would swear that Jamie and Simon must share some DNA. Both of them so clumsy in the way they care but infinitely endearing.

“Yeah, Raspberry or Blueberry or Kidney Bean. So tiny."

“Crazy isn’t it? To think it’s gonna be a proper human soon enough.”

She nods her head in agreement as Simon places a plate stacked with two thick fluffy waffles before her.

“You’re telling me. I know this is all happening inside my body and it’s still insane to think about. Doesn’t feel real.”

Simon regards her with soft eyes. There is warmth in there but something else. Something she can’t quite place. Georgie had the same look last night. Like they know more than she does. And fuck, maybe they do. They’ve done this before. Lived enough of life to know what the hell they are doing.

“Are you alright? “

(Y/N) was never big on sharing her feelings with anyone, let alone strangers. Life, and both her parents really, have taught her that talking about your feelings only makes you vulnerable. And being vulnerable usually ends in pain. So what you do is you take your insecurities, your fears, your sadness and you put it in a tiny little box and then you put on the lid. You tie a ribbon around it with a neat bow on top and then you take that box that holds your feelings and you bury it. And then you spend your whole life living like the protagonist in an Edgar Allan Poe story and that box becomes a beating heart under the floorboards of your life.

And the beating never ever stops.

“Sure. I’m good.”

She thinks he knows she’s bluffing but lets it go anyway. Opening up to Jamie is scary enough, takes up enough of her bravery. Simon is lovely and if she was another person altogether she’d love to share her worries with him, he seems like the best listener. She’s not someone else though, she is just herself and she can’t bring herself to talk.

“Okay. Just want you to know that if you need anything or — anyone. Georgie and I are always there to help. I know I’m not Jamie’s real dad but I do feel like that is my son. I don’t have children of my own and I only met Jamie when he was a pre-teen already so I don’t know much about babies but if you guys let me I am sure I can be a phenomenal grandad. My mum always used to say I was already born a little old man so this feels like I finally get a chance to be what I was always supposed to be. My time to shine has come.”

A harmony of their laughter fills the kitchen. God, is this whole family made up of the sweetest people on this entire planet? Do they make them in a damn factory or something?

“I will hold you to it. When the baby is screaming and I need some sleep I’ll come drop them off with you then.”

“Oh, I’ll be ready with some bedtime stories and lullabies.”

“You are sweet, Simon. And I really appreciate the offer. God knows Jamie and I don’t know the first thing about being parents so we can take all the help we can get.”

“Do you want to hear a secret?”

“Sure.”

“No one knows what they’re doing. As long as you try your best that’s all that matters. Kids are forgiving if they know you care.”

People always say that but there’s a little part of (Y/N) that believes those words to be untrue. Did her mum try her best and this was the outcome? Or did she just not care to do more, to be better? And which of those scenarios would be worse?

Jamie’s sleepy voice pulls her from her spiraling thoughts. “Morning, love.”

He places a soft kiss on the top of her head. So sure, so unbothered as if they do this all the time. Is this what it feels like? Being able to show your feelings and show affection without wondering what consequences it may bring? Without fearing that it makes you too vulnerable?

His hand finds her stomach and gives it a soft rub “And good morning to you, baby.”

It will never not be endearing to her to hear him talk to the baby. And neither will the way he pronounces the word ever lose its magic to her. That is his pride and joy there. His babeh.

“Aw Waffles, sweet!”

As Jamie plops down next to Simon and stuffs his face with vanilla waffles, leaving a slight dust of powdered sugar on his lips, (Y/N) is certain that all his worries are unjustified.

Jamie is all his dad and none of his father. Every inch and every fiber of him is a product of the love that Georgie and Simon have raised him with. He is them in the way he smiles and cares and the way he feels joy so freely and unabashedly.

And if only a smidge, only a sprinkle of that love is extended towards her child, that kid is gonna grow up so adored it won’t know where to put all of that love.

“Think I’m gonna throw up.”

“Like pregnancy barf or meeting mum nausea? “

Leave it to Jamie to put a smile on her face even when the world around her seems to crumble and fall.

“You gotta stop calling it that.”

“Alright, but you have to tell me which one it is so I know if I should hand you a barf bag or give you a pep talk. I’m getting awfully good at them if I dare say so myself. Learned a lot from Ted, yeah?”

If this was just the pregnancy making her nauseous everything would be so much easier. Ginger drops and rest would do the trick. But this is so much worse. This sharp feeling cursing through her veins, gnawing at her bones and devouring her like a hungry wolf. There truly is no one capable of breaking your heart like your own mother.

“Let me hear that pep talk then.”

As he navigates the car up the long driveway, flanked by big ornate mansions with brass iron fences and perfectly symmetrical hedges, Jamie regards (Y/N) from the corner of his eyes.

“Okay, well you don’t need to worry. Things are gonna be just fine. You know why?”

“Why?”

“Cause mums love me and middle-aged women love me. It’s cause they think I’m charming,” he says and glances at (Y/N) for a second. That radiant cheeky smile of his taking over his features. Oh, she hopes their kid gets his smile. “Which I am.”

“So charming, really.”

“You’d know,” Jamie replies and nods his head in the direction of her belly.

His laughter echoes through the car as she gives him a soft slap against the shoulder. There’s just something about Jamie that makes life feel a little lighter, a little more effortless. Even if it's just for a moment, just pretend. It does take the heavy weight off of (Y/N)’s heart for a second.

The car rolls to a stop in front of the gorgeous white house (Y/N) pointed out to him when they turned into the street. The lawn looks immaculate, the hedges are trimmed to perfection. This plastic palace all grand and gaudy. It never felt like home even though (Y/N) spent most of her life growing up in these very halls.

But really what is it that makes a house a home? Love and laughter and memories you want to return to. This is just four walls and a roof.

“Hey,” Jamie speaks up and places a hand gently on hers. “It’ll be alright but even if it won’t it will.”

“Huh?”

“I mean — look if she reacts badly, that sucks. But you have me, yeah? Always. Me and Rebecca and my Mum and Simon. Once we tell them I know the team will be obsessed with our baby, they’ll love her so much.”

“Or him.”

“Or him, yes. Ted is going to freak out, I know he’s going to want to hang out with our kid all the time. Roy? He’s already the best old geriatric uncle the world has ever seen. He won’t admit it but he’ll be really happy for us. Sam, Issac, Keeley, Higgins? All of them will be just a call away if we need help. I’m not sure about coach Beard though, he scares me not gonna lie.”

“I think he’s hilarious actually.”

“It’s because you’re smart and understand his jokes.”

“You’re smart too!”

“Nah, I just talk a lot and hope I end up saying the right thing. Anyway, what I mean is, this is your mum, yes, but in the big picture, she is just one person. And if she doesn’t love our baby there are so many other people who will. This baby will never, not for one second have to wonder if they are loved, because they are. So much.”

And as easy as it is for him to make (Y/N) laugh, as easy it seems to be to make her cry. Good tears though. Tears that say “I believe you that things are going to be alright”. Tears that say “thank you.”

“Jamie Tartt, of all the footballers that could’ve accidentally knocked me up, I am so glad it was you. You are going to be the best dad.”

“And you’re already the best mum. Well tied with my mum, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

(Y/N)’s childhood home feels cold, Jamie notices. There are hardly any pictures and those that are there are posed and awkward. He can tell it’s (Y/N) on those pictures but they don’t feel like her. There is no happiness in them, no joy. None of that sarcastic charm she exudes. He passes by a lifetime of being told how to sit and how to smile and what to do and probably what to say as well. It makes him feel miserable. And it puts things into perspective. It makes sense now, her worries and fears. If you grow up surrounded by nothing but the cold you eventually start wondering if you’ll ever be capable of creating warmth.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure?” (Y/N)'s Mum asks as she sits down at the head of the table. There’s something scary about this woman. She demands attention like a god-given right. She extends nothing in return. Her eyes are sharp and intense. It makes Jamie feel like she can see right through him down to all his insecurities and faults. She’s fucking terrifying.

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

He hates the way (Y/N)’s voice has become so small and timid ever since they stepped foot into this mansion. Hates that there is nothing he can do to make it better and take this weight off of her. Nothing but be there. So he does that at least. Be there in all the ways he can be.

It’s so silly really, how his heart beats just a little faster when he touches her hand underneath the table. When she welcomes the soft gesture. When she returns his gentle squeeze. And when she links her fingers with his.

So silly. Stupid little treacherous heart.

“Well, I gathered that much. I just wish you would’ve called ahead of time so I could’ve made some food.”

“Made some food? Since when do you cook?”

The look her mother throws at (Y/N) could freeze a lake solid. It’s mean and chilling and Jamie wishes he never would’ve pushed (Y/N) to come here. Hates himself a little for putting her in this situation.

“I did attend several cooking classes last year. See, if you’d visit me a bit more often you’d know that.”

And if she wasn’t such a raging bitch, maybe (Y/N) would visit her more often, Jamie thinks. Fortunately, he’s gotten much better at impulse control lately, well ever since Ted arrived really. The old Jamie would’ve blurted out those thoughts with no care of any consequences.

The old Jamie probably wouldn’t have stepped up to be a dad though.

“Anyway, I would’ve liked a little warning. Especially if you’re bringing someone.”

Being at the receiving end of that icy glare feels awful, Jamie decides as (Y/N)’s mother regards him with a mix of disdain and humor. Her eyes sparkle with a sense of smug superiority. Jamie is used to people underestimating him. They think he’s stupid. Some dumb footballer with straw filling the places where a brain should be. Quite honestly it doesn’t bother him, never had. He’s the first to admit that he can be dumb when it comes to certain things. He’s no poet and he has never been particularly good at math. But this woman and the way she looks at him rubs him the wrong way. She knows nothing about him and yet she thinks she’s got him all figured out. Flesh and bones and all.

“Yeah uh, sorry about that. It was a spontaneous thing really. We would’ve called — “

“Sure, whatever you say. James was it?”

His name sounds like venom dripping from her lips. James. He hasn’t been James since the moment he was born and Georgie first kissed his tiny head and whispered “You’re my little Jamie.” Not that he remembers that but it’s a story his mom has recounted to him many times.

“Jamie, yes.”

“Right, Jamie.”

An uncomfortable silence settles upon the room. It crawls into the cracks and crevices of their conversation. It spreads and festers and discomfort grows around them like mold on damp walls.

“Mum, we’re here because I wanted to tell you I’m pregnant.”

The confession shoots through the silence like a bullet. Cuts through it like a knife through a flimsy ribbon. If this was a movie they’d put in a freeze frame or underlay the scene with some dramatic musical score. But this is real life and it comes with no editing and no soundtrack.

No, it just comes with a bellowing laugh from (Y/N)’s mother. It’s not the kind of laughter that makes you want to laugh along. The kind that makes you feel like sunshine has erupted inside your ribcage and wraps you in a warm blanket. It’s not like (Y/N)’s laugh. This one is mocking. It’s ridiculous. It’s meant to make you feel small and dumb. It breaks his heart to know this is the laughter (Y/N) grew up with.

“You can not be serious. Pregnant?”

A short, quiet “Yes.” leaves (Y/N)’s lips. Jamie gently squeezes her hand in return. I am here. He says. I will always be here. She squeezes back. He hopes it means “I know.”

“You stupid little girl.”

(Y/N)’s hand grabs his more tightly. A lifeline to hold on to. Crescent moon shapes stamped into his skin. But if this is the price he’ll have to pay in order to be a good partner in all of this then he’ll pay it 10 times over. Of all the things in this world, all the ways to describe her, stupid is not one Jamie would ever think of.

“Hey, don’t talk to her like that.”

Maybe a little bit of old Jamie is still there. The good parts. The protective, opinionated parts maybe. Not reckless but brave.

“She is my daughter and I will talk to her as I very well please. But you’re right. She is not a little girl, she’s a grown woman. Which makes this even worse. You should know better, (Y/N). Getting pregnant by some — some guy.”

“Some guy? Excuse me?”

“Well you’re not her boyfriend, are you? You are just some guy with no obligation to her. And if you wake up one day and realize what a massive mistake you made then you can just leave. She’ll be stuck being a mother forever.”

It boils his blood to hear those vicious words hurled at him and (Y/N). Mistake? Sure this baby wasn’t planned but they’re not a mistake. Not for one single second did Jamie think of his child as a mistake. A surprise. A shock even. But never a mistake.

“I know you don’t know me and quite honestly I don’t think I want to know you either but I can tell you one thing. That is my baby and I love it now and I will always love it. It is not a mistake. You can judge me, you can judge her and you can judge our decisions but stop talking about my child like that. That is just uncalled for. I know my word doesn’t mean anything to you but I was here from the moment (Y/N) told me she was pregnant and I will be here for the rest of my life. That is a promise.”

She has the audacity to scoff at him and completely ignore everything he just said. Instead, she moves her cold hard gaze towards (Y/N).

“What do you want me to say? Congratulations? Well, you’re not getting those here. Your father would be so — “

Before she can finish the sentence a shrill screeching sound cuts her off as (Y/N) pushes away from the dining table.

“I gotta get out of here.”

“Oh, what is this now? You’re just going to leave because you don’t get the reaction you hoped for? I can pretend if that’s what you want me to —”

“Mum, I am not running. I need to go! I am nauseous as fuck and if you don’t want me to empty my stomach onto your dining table just let me leave. I didn’t come here asking for your approval, I just thought you should know you’re going to be a grandmother. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go throw up in your bushes.”

Jamie is hot on her heels, grabbing both their jackets and (Y/N)’s bag in the process as he rushes after her. Though even in the chaos and hurry he doesn’t miss the look of absolute shock and bewilderment on the older woman’s face. It feels like a small victory but it does paint a little smile on his lips.

“Oh don’t do that. I’m disgusting.”

“I’ll be watching you push out a whole damn baby. This is nothing compared to that.”

If it weren’t such an absurd situation, that comment probably would’ve sent her spiraling but really it’s the least confusing part of today. Of course, Jamie wants to be around for the birth. Now that he mentioned it, (Y/N) thinks she shouldn’t be surprised. Of course, he’ll be there. He’s been there for it all so far of course he’ll be there when the baby enters this world.

It’s almost a little dreamy and magical to think about. Almost. Because life doesn’t let her think too much about it before it sends another wave of vomit up her esophagus.

“I don’t mind holding your hair while you puke, you're growing a whole human it’s the least I can do. But I gotta ask you something.”

“What’s that?” (Y/N) asks and wipes her mouth with the sleeve of her sweater. Desperate times, desperate measures. At least that’s how she tries to justify it to herself.

“Is that hedge purposely cut to look like a dick?”

He nods towards one of the boxwood trees at the edge of the property that (Y/N) has no doubt her mother hired a gardener to trim and shape and care for.

“Holy shit, it does.”

“And cut too. You think your mum knows?”

And suddenly the nausea is gone and forgotten about and in its place, a flurry of giggles takes over.

“Hey, are you okay?” Jamie asks once they both calm down a little.

Is she okay? Not really but this too will pass and it’s not like she expected anything else from her mother. Ever since (Y/N) was a little kid she remembers her mother dulling all her joy and whimsy. Why should things be different now?

“No. But I will be.” and when he takes her hand in his and places a soft kiss on her knuckles, for the first time since turning into this very street, she truly believes in those words.

“Good. Now do you wanna go home or do something else?”

“Home sounds good but uh — do you want to stay? Watch a movie or something? I don’t want to be alone right now.”

Another kiss to her knuckles sends her heart into a little frenzy. Teeny tiny somersaults all around her ribcage.

“Yeah, can I pick? “

“Fuck no.”

“Alright, was worth a try.”

“It was a dream? That’s it?”

The ending credits to The Wizard of Oz play on her little TV screen as (Y/N) and Jamie sit on her couch, a bowl of microwave popcorn long devoured and now empty resting between them.

“I mean, you can interpret it however you want.”

“Meh, didn’t like that one very much. Next time we should watch the Muppets treasure island. That’s a good one.”

There truly is something so sweetly endearing about Jamie’s childlike qualities. His unintentional goofiness and his ability to make even the worst day turn into an okay one. An “all in all kinda good” one.

“Okay, fine. Next time we’ll watch the Muppets. It just — my dad had the Wizard of Oz on DVD. One of the few movies he had. So whenever I’d stay with him we’d watch it together. I think I just wanted to feel close to him today.”

“Hey,” Jamie chimes up and gently nudges her shoulder with his. “I didn’t know your dad but from what you said about him he seemed like a fun guy. A good guy. So I think your mum is wrong. He’d be proud of you. I know that.”

And for the second time that day (Y/N) thanks whatever cosmic power there is for putting Jamie in her life. For making him the person who goes through all of this alongside her. For making him her partner in this crazy adventure. For making him the father of her child.

“Thanks, Jamie. I really appreciate that you stood up for me and the baby. It’s not that I didn’t want to, I just froze. Every time I talk to her I want to say so many things but they get stuck somewhere on the way from my brain to my mouth.”

“It’s okay, I get it. It’s like that with my dad too. We’ll just have to be each other’s voices then I guess.”

“That sounds like a good plan to me.”

He does it again then, that tiny insignificant kiss on the top of her head. It means nothing.

But it means everything.

“Hey uh — I’m not really tired yet. Do you wanna start that Muppets movie now?”

“Uh yeah? Absolutely. I’ll never say no to Kermit. He is THE frog.”

Just a little while later, while Kermit and Miss Piggy sing a love song on screen while hanging off a cliff, (Y/N)’s eyes fall shut, her head resting gently against Jamie’s shoulder.

For the second time in less than 24 hours (Y/N) falls asleep in Jamie’s arms. And though she might not realize it right then, she has never felt more safe and secure ever before.

Maybe things really will be alright.

“Now I know that life can take you by surprise, And sweep you off your feet. Did this happen to us, Or are we just dreaming? Love led us here.”

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