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sunspray-peak · 1 year

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Ch. 26: Under the Golden Glow of the Sun

SATURDAY - SUMMER 27

The Wizard had been out yesterday—or, at least, he had failed to answer the door, and after Achilles’ last encounter with an empty Wizard’s Tower, he decided it’d be best to not walk in without an invitation. The junimos, who had continued to watch him in increasing numbers since the pneumonia, had nodded in agreement and followed him back to the farm.

But Achilles was eager for answers, so the next day, after the saddest, slowest, most pathetic morning jog he had ever run, he headed straight back to Cindersap. The path there was riddled with an extra pair of footprints today; someone else must’ve paid Rasmodius a visit. Someone with a rather dragging, limping gait, it seemed.

Who in Stardew has a limp? Strange.

He followed the unsteady prints up the dusty stone steps and knocked once again on the Wizard’s door. It opened instantly with a loud bang—Rasmodius, dressed in his usual black robes didn’t seem surprised to see him.

“Back again are you, boy? Can’t take the hint?” he grunted, slamming the front door behind him and joining Achilles on the stone steps.

“I just have some questions—”

“Oh I’m sure you do. Come on. Lay it on me, then. Quickly, I’ve got work to do.”

Achilles was a little caught off guard by the Wizard’s grumpy demeanor—he had never been quite so brusque in their conversation before—but it was no matter. It would take more than a prickly exterior to intimidate a determined Achilles. That being said, he kept his recap short and to the point.

“…and Corvus said… it was up to me. And I just supposed I’d get your thoughts on the matter, maybe you could teach me, tell me how I can help and what I can do, especially seeing as it all seemed rather time sensitive—”

The Wizard rolled his eyes, already turning around to head back into the tower. “Of course that little brute said that. You listen here—you stay away from those mines. You haven’t got what it takes to confront spirits. I know what’s buried down there, and believe me, you won’t be able to handle it. Nobody can.” Rasmodius tugged his mustache and added in a low mutter, “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell Marlon…”

“Marlon?”

The Wizard proceeded as if he hadn’t heard.

“You pay no attention to the shadow brute in the cave. You can’t trust those things. They’re evil spirits.”

“This one didn’t feel evil—”

“Oh, and you would know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

Achilles shoved his hand through the door, blocking the Wizard from shutting it fully. He was here for answers, and he was going to get them. What the hell was with the total 180? “Well if you would just teach me—remember, you were the one who told me I had some sort of special relationship with the spirits here, that I, I don’t know, could be what Stardew Valley needed. You were the one who encouraged all this spirit talk. Corvus found me. He spoke to me. I think I have a right—”

“A right?” The Wizard wrenched the door back open—he seemed to rapidly swell in height, looming down darkly at Achilles who nevertheless stood his ground. “What right? Oh, a shadow brute made you feel special, boy? Like you could be the Savior of Stardew—bah, that’s what it wanted you to think, I never should have told you what I did—

“Look at you, an immature child who was never told no—your stunted gifts are limited. You have no training, no experience, no knowledge! And no potential. You have no destiny here.”

After letting these words ring in the air for a beat, Rasmodius shrank back to his usual height. Curls of smoke emerged from beneath the door. He leaned against the frame, suddenly weary, and removed his hat, running the brim through his fingers as he continued in a softer tone. “Achilles, listen to me. This is not your job. Best leave it to the professionals and not ask too many questions. I have long been well aware of the problem, and I can assure you, I have been working on a solution to heal the Elemental Walls of this Valley for many years now.”

“But the Portal—”

“Stop. The best thing you can do is forget everything that shadow brute told you.”

The Wizard’s violet eyes were almost tender as they met Achilles’ brown ones.

“I know how difficult that can be. How intense the spiritual pull can feel. But I’m begging you. Find a new passion. Lose yourself in something else. Anything else. Just forget about those spirits, and they’ll forget about you. Trust me. You don’t know what you want? I’m telling you now. That is what you should want. To forget. You’ll thank me one day, boy.”

With that, Rasmodius gently shut the door, leaving only a cloud of glittering, lavender smoke to linger in the air.

*****

Naturally, the meeting left Achilles in a rather rotten mood. Perhaps rotten wasn’t the right word, he thought to himself as he aimed a kick at a mushroom, nose twitching like it had never twitched before. A whole host of junimos were chittering alongside him as he stalked through the forest, but Achilles was deaf to their messages, too wounded to process anything but the resentment building inside him.

What he hated most about the whole affair was that the Wizard was probably right—what could he have possibly expected to have done in the mines? He had been too arrogant, too focused on the spoils of victory rather than what battling any “spirits of evil” would actually require and entail.

This was supposed to have been his Summer of rest and relaxation. Didn’t he learn anything? He was supposed to stop getting involved in shit. Not that there was much he was qualified to get “involved in.” Truly, what was he even good for? He hadn’t gleaned anything new or noteworthy about himself from his camping trip… he was just average all around. Jack of all trades, with most of the credit going to his wealthy upbringing. And yet still master of none.

Head down, muttering curses under his breath, he had failed to see Alex waving to him from the path until they very nearly collided in a puff of citrus-scented apologies.

“Heyyo! Perfect timing, I was just by your farm, just got back from Zuzu. I was looking for you.”

Achilles glanced upwards—looking for me, you say?

It was almost laughable, how quickly his bad mood began to dissolve at the sight of him—ridiculous, really, but so was choosing to hold on to the deluge of self-loathing Rasmodius had inspired, and so the logical part of his brain allowed this welcome breath of fresh air to wash over him and soothe his spite.

“Everything all right?” Alex studied him quizzically. A rather intense gaze, those green eyes were oft to give; Achilles unusually had to break eye contact first.

“Hmm? Yes, I’m fine. Why?”

“You look… well, you sure nothing’s wrong?”

“I’m fine.” Achilles wasn’t exactly sure why he was lying—perhaps the two of them had had too many depressing conversations lately, and Achilles didn’t want Alex to think he was a mopey little puffin all the time.

It was pretty clear Alex didn’t believe him, but, non-confrontational as he was, Alex chose not to further push.

“I was going to go for a swim after lunch, thought maybe you’d be down to join if you’re feeling up to it. Second to last day of Summer, thought it might, I don’t know, be nice for you while the water’s still warm. If we go out far enough, we might be able to catch the early jellies before they start to come in.”

“Jellies?”

“Yeah, you know, like before the festival.”

“What festival?”

“The Dance of the Moonlight Jellies? You didn’t get Lewis’ letter? He usually sends one every year.”

“I don’t check my—I must’ve missed it…”

“Yeah, the jellyfish migrate west the last week of Summer, it’s really cool. It’s a little early for them to be close to shore, though, so we’ll have to go out past the waves.”

Conquer the Sand and the Sea!

Perhaps he could at least accomplish one thing before summer’s end…

“This is just you making due on your threat to drop me in the middle of the sea, isn’t it? I’m in fragile condition, Alexander, don’t you know.”

Alex laughed and swung an arm briefly around Achilles’ shoulders as they headed back to Strawberry Farms. “You got me there. Nah, you can just stay in the boat if you’re still not feeling great, although the water’s pretty calm.”

“The boat?”

“Yeah, I usually go pretty far out. Boat’s nothing fancy, though. Small wooden thingy, it’s def not those yachts you’re probably used to, am I right?”

Achilles hesitated. It had been a long time since he had been in a boat. And it was the small ones that scared him the most—the ones where you could feel every rolling wave, every lurch… so close to the water, you could dip your hand in without leaning too far over.

He remembered the cold. The blue light that blotted out the stars. The moon. The silence of a stilled motor.

No. No thank you. He faced Alex, ready to turn down the offer, but, to his own surprise, found himself hesitating in his denial.

There was an innate confidence to Alex that Achilles had always lacked. He was good at feigning it, but on the inside… Achilles had spent his whole life preoccupied with fixing his faults to better focus on building his future. Always anxious he was running out of time.

But Alex had a sureness that propelled him in the present. There was something in his eyes, maybe something in his jaw, that, at least at this moment, inspired some measure of confidence in Achilles. And so, to his own surprise, he said,

“Sure. Let’s do it.”

*****

The boat wasn’t as bad as he had thought. A rowboat. Yes, this was better, he could deal with a rowboat. That being said, he still needed a minute to catch his breath as he took a rocking step inside and sat tentatively towards the bow.

Alex had (naturally) taken the oars. There being only one pair, in addition to being in “recovery,” gave Achilles a good excuse to sit idly by and focus on his breathing. He firmly grasped the sides of the boat to steady himself.

“You don’t get seasick, do you?” Alex asked, watching him closely.

“No… I just… don’t do boats. Or open water.”

“Well it’s going to get a lot more open than this…” They were only a few hundred meters from the beach, Achilles could still just make out Tanya and another lifeguard watching over the day’s beachgoers.

Except for the brief stretch where the waves began to break, the further away they went from shore, the calmer the sea became. If Achilles had been one to get seasick, perhaps he’d have felt a lot better the further out they rowed, but as the shoreline slowly disappeared from view, so did any remaining sense of peace.

“We can turn back if you’d like…” Alex began uncertainly, watching as Achilles turned a shade not dissimilar to that of the seawater, but Achilles quickly cut him off with a halting shake of his head.

“Nope. Nope, let’s do this. It’s fine. I just… need a few minutes.”

Conquer, you fuck! This isn’t conquering… head in your hands little bitch…

Likely in an attempt to distract Achilles from their increasing isolation, Alex quickly kicked off a conversation regarding the latest superhero film that MD Comics had announced just last week—not Nimbus, Alex and Achilles had long agreed they had to have been the only two fans of the weather-changing superhero saga in existence (though recent news Achilles had come across would perhaps change that for the younger generation…)—but even so, they still shared a casual love for the general genre.

From there, they turned to grid ball, and from grid ball, they easily transitioned to the pros and cons of fame. Though “they” was pushing it, for Achilles, still somewhat mentally paralyzed, and even more so now with the topic at hand, was supplying perhaps about 2% of the conversation.

And so Alex, taking note of Achilles’ uneasy glances at the vast emptiness of the sea, began to point out the small surrounding islands they were beginning to pass. All part of the Fern Islands archipelago, he explained, stumbling a bit over the word “archipelago.” Most of the islands were titchy—barely the size of Pelican Town, and obviously uninhabited as high tide often covered them up. Ginger Island was the largest one, but too far to row to.

“It’s nice though. They got, like, parrots and stuff. Oh, and the resort has this amazing curry, I know you like hot peppers. Maybe we can go some time.”

Achilles nodded. Another day, the casual invitation may have sent him into a bit of a tailspin, but right now, anything beyond the small motion would require him to break his concentration. If he focused on Alex’s voice—clear and warm, a nice baritone, really—he could maybe, just maybe, relax. Yoba, how pathetic was he, letting something that happened six years ago affect him to this extent. Embarrassing, really…

After what seemed like an hour, Alex stopped rowing and set the oars back into the boat, glancing across the waves and shielding his eyes with his hands.

“Good day today! It can get a little choppy sometimes, but looks like Yoba made things nice and flat just for you.”

“‘Good day today?’ How often do you come out here?” Maybe, if he forced himself to talk, all his anxiety would leach itself out with his words. Yes. Exactly that.

“Oh. Um…” Alex, who was taking off his shoes, flushed, the tiny dusting of freckles on his nose more apparent with the pink. “Yeah, sometimes, I guess… It’s nice out here. And there’s not much to worry about—some fish and turtles, but nothing that’ll eat you. Sam does swear he once saw a mermaid, though.”

He unzipped his hoodie, tossing it to Achilles, whose brain immediately short circuited at the sight, concentration be damned. It was too much for his nerves, already frayed they were. In fact, they practically dissolved when Alex took a step closer and ran his hand just oh so casually through his hair.

Throughout their swim lessons and beach parties, Alex had always had his lifeguard uniform. That being said, Achilles should’ve known what to expect, it’s not like it was difficult imagining what a former almost-Artemic athlete who now worked as a fucking fitness instructor looked like shirtless. No surprises. Exactly what he’d have predicted; smooth skin aglow with a light dapple of freckles, soft shadows outlining perfectly tanned muscle… nothing fancy. In fact, Achilles determinedly told himself, it wasn’t anything Achilles hadn’t seen before; truly, there wasn’t remotely anything particularly special to the sight at all. Except that it just happened to be Alex.

But luckily for Achilles, his well trained poker face had reacted swiftly. And although his forehead had begun to sweat and his heart had begun to pound as the most beautiful person he had ever seen (and that included an ex boyfriend who had modeled for d’Attainville) continued to stand half-naked just a mere feet away from him, he managed to maintain rather nonchalant eye contact.

“You gonna stay here, then, weather boy?”

In the battle between lust and anxiety, apparently anxiety won. At Alex’s question, Achilles looked over the edge of the boat and dipped a hand into the water. It was, as Alex had said it would be, warm, but the touch still sent his already rapid heart beating even faster.

“Maybe for a bit.”

“Ok! No worries. I’ll just do a lap or so, I won’t go far. And lookiee here! Pear Pods!” Alex inserted the pear shaped, waterproof earbuds Achilles had gifted him into his ears and flashed a thumbs up.

With that, Alex walked slowly to the edge of the boat, ready to dive in the water before pausing and straightening back up. “Actually—sorry. I won’t do that. It’ll shake the boat.”

“No, it’s fine—”

Instead, he climbed delicately over the side into the water before disappearing under the surface. Achilles counted the disconcertingly small number of ripples before folding the hoodie Alex had thrown his way and placing it atop the seat. Handling the fabric had left the faint smell of oranges on his fingertips, and he couldn’t help but give them a small sniff in order to… better help anchor him and his anxiety.

Oh yeah, it’s totally just to anchor your anxiety you perv…

“Heyyo!”

Achilles looked out to the water towards the whooper who was treading water now and waving with far more enthusiasm than any open water ought to inspire—fuck, Alex really was fast if he had swum that far out in less than twenty seconds.

In just another 30 seconds or so later, Alex had returned, raising himself half-out of the lazy waves, (rather impressive) forearms resting against the sides of the boat as he pushed dripping brown strands, straightened and darkened by the water, out of his face.

“Maybe the mermaid Sam saw was actually you,” Achilles said drily, watching droplets pool on the floor of the boat. “You are very fast.”

Alex laughed, letting go of the boat (which pitched slightly—Achilles gripped the seat) and backing away a few feet to better tread water.

“You said you come out here sometimes?” Achilles slowly clambered towards the side of the boat for a better view. “Why? There’s a pool at your gym.”

“Yeah… but the pool is so… clean, you know? Well, not clean—well no, it is clean, but that’s not what I meant, it’s just like… lonely? And, I don’t know, it kind of reminds me of my old competing days… anyway, I like it out here. It’s rougher. Quieter. And sometimes you can race the dolphins, they even let me win every once in awhile.” Alex laughed again at his own little joke, propelling a jaunty little spin in the water. “I’ll come out here a couple times a week after work or after my grandparents go to bed.”

“Alone?”

“Ah… well…”

“That’s a yes, I can see it in those guilty green eyes of yours,” Achilles declared, pointing his finger at Alex’s wide-eyed visage.

Alex half shrugged, a clumsy movement in the water. “I don’t know, it’s nice to just… be alone, sometimes—”

“In the middle of the sea? At night? That’s so dangerous you don’t even have a radio in here, or a light. And there you were, always harping about swim safety to me—”

“Hey now, in my defense, you’ve known how to swim for like, barely one season—”

“I know you still hold the freestyle record in the province and all—”

“How’d you find that out?”

Ope. But Achilles, always quick on his feet, retorted with, “A lucky guess you just confirmed,” (a lie, he had looked it up) “but that’s not the point—what if the boat drifted away? What if you got caught in a current—they used to call the Gem Sea the Wild Wild West of the Water you know— ”

“Oh my god, of course you would have done research on Gem Sea history—I don’t go nearly this far out when I’m alone, I stay in sight of shore. And I tie myself to the boat if the water’s rougher—”

“And if the tether snapped?”

“All right, grandpa—listen, Ash, I’ve been doing this for ages. But I do appreciate the concern.”Those words coming from anybody else’s mouth would likely have been some kind of sarcastic, snappy remark, but Alex seemed genuine and patient in his appreciation.

Achilles, however, was still too vexed to let it go. And scolding Alex was distracting him from dealing with his own immediate champagne problems—hell, he could probably even bare to stand in the boat right now, his anxiety having found a different body to fret over. And stand he did, to better wave his hands towards the sky. “Do you let people know? That you’re out here swimming in the middle of the night?”

“I mean…”

“Alexander—”

“Well my grandparents know. Kind of. I don’t like keeping things from them, but I mean—“

“—kind of—?”

“I mean, I don’t know, I like the privacy, all right?” Alex’s voice had raised in pitch. More weary exasperation than anger, it nevertheless quieted Achilles. Alex flipped over to float on his back, arms stretched to the side like one of the overpassing seagull in flight.

“I… come out here so I can practice. Kind of. I mean, not that I’m planning to try to go pro again, I just like swimming, and I’d have to do a lot more than come out here three times a week, but… I miss it sometimes…”

Achilles waited a beat to confirm Alex wasn’t going to continue. This was an interesting development—so Alex hadn’t totally given up on it all, had he?

“Well why aren’t you trying to go pro again, if I may ask? Especially if you miss it? Sure, I don’t know much about swimming, but you still seem pretty damn fast to me.”

Alex floated closer to the boat, where Achilles gazed dolefully down at him from the side.

“I don’t know, I guess I’m… kind of old to get back into it now. And my grandparents never really liked it, so…”

Achilles cut him off with a series of sharp tap against the frame of the boat. “Perfect world, Alex. Pretend there’s nothing you have to worry about, nobody you have to take care of. Would you go for it?”

“I… I don’t know. Maybe? Yes? Yes, I mean, of course I’d go for it—”Galvanized by his own words and now too restless to float, Alex flipped back over to treading water. “Who wouldn’t want to do what they love for a living? You got me, Ash, yes, I probably come out here so I can pretend to live out what could’ve happened in some private world of make believe. Is that what you wanted me to say?

“If I tell people that I come out here, or if I came here every day, made a schedule, tried to actually take it seriously, it… it makes it real. Like I’m actually trying to do it. And I’m scared of that. Because if it’s real, it can fail. I can fail, mess it all up all over again.”

“It wasn’t your fault—”

“No, it wasn’t. But I was still the one who got screwed over in the end, wasn’t I?”

Alex’s voice, though still patient, was firm and final. For a minute, the only sounds were the seagulls cawing from above, until, in a significantly more tentative tone, Alex asked, “Perfect world. What would you go for, Achilles?”

Achilles turned back to face the inside of the boat, bowing his head as he watched tiny rivulets of water slide across the bottom, and took a seat.

“Honestly? I don’t know. That’s why I’m a little jealous of you, really. There’s not like, a thing, that I’m really good at. I’ve tried so many things, and I still don’t know what I want…

“Having something that you’re good at and that you like and that people appreciate… I don’t know. I just think you… owe it to yourself. If something feels right like this, there’s no harm in ‘making it real.’ Like, just do it. How can there ever be harm in trying? And if you do decide to try to go for it, you should go for it as hard as you can.” Ah, yes, spoken like a true child of privilege. “But I don’t know, perhaps that’s a toxic mentality… ‘course, there’s tons of other factors at play…”

“Mmm…”

“I just…” Achilles was prepared to further expound his philosophy—he knew his views on success were flawed, but even taking a step back from all of that, he still staunchly believed in the power of not half-assing anything. But seeing the melancholy shadow on Alex’s face regrounded him, and he pivoted in a brighter tone. “I just still can’t get over you coming out here in the middle of the night. I mean, bold of you to criticize me for going into the tide pool without supervision while you’re out in the middle of the sea racing sharks!”

“Hey, I said dolphins! There are no sharks—okay, you know what, Mister, why don’t you show me your stuff and I won’t insist on supervising you in the tide pool anymore.”

“That is not the message you should be taking away—” It was hopeless, but Alex, whose mood seemed to be capable of transforming at enviable speed, was back to grinning like a fool, so Achilles’ tactic at least, in that regard, had been successful.

“Come on, get in! We’ve been practicing all season for this.”

Achilles took a deep breath and stood to look over the edge again.

Immediately, the anxiety that had been pushed aside during their little spat returned—the turquoise water was eerily clear, but even still, it was impossible to see the bottom of the sea. On and on it stretched, down below like a bottomless, dark blue pit. Dark. So, so, dark. Tiny waves sloshed steadily around the side of the boat, each gentle rock kicking off an avalanche of dread down his spine.

His legs buckled, and without realizing it, he collapsed back into his seat, beads of cold sweat sending his body into shivers.

“Oh shoot, shit, shit—” There was a splash, and within a second, Alex had appeared atop the side of the boat. It careened to the left with the sudden added weight, sending Achilles sprawling nearly overboard to the side.

But a hurried hand steadied his forearm just in time. “Shoot, I’m sorry—you don’t have to come in. We can head back, I shouldn’t have pushed, especially with you still recovering from pneumonia —”

Achilles cut Alex off with a raise of his own unsteady hand. “Right… ok, let’s not blame the pneumonia, we both know it’s just me being a coward.”

“Here, I’m going to get back in, we can row back—just brace yourself, it’ll tip a bit, let me know when you’re good— ”

“No, no.” With a small groan, Achilles buried his head in his hands. Pathetic. Utterly embarrassing. In a slightly muffled voice, he managed, “We don’t have to head back. You keep… doing you, it’s fine. Just… give me some more time. I didn’t realize the water would be so… deep.”

“Are you sure?”

Achilles looked up from his hands and forced a tight-lipped smile, making sure to keep his voice as steady as possible. “Yeah. Really. I’m sure. Look at me. Thriving.”

The tilt of Alex’s head and the small furrow in his brows betrayed his disbelief, but perhaps understanding Achilles’ silly little need to keep up appearances, he ultimately offered Achilles’ white-knuckled fingers a little encouraging tap and said, “Well… all righty, then… You let me know if you want to head back, though, okay? It’s really not a problem…”

With significantly less gusto than before, Alex reinserted the waterproof Pear Pods and dove back into the water.

What was wrong with him? Achilles buried his head in Alex’s hoodie this time, taking in the scents of citrus and salt, clutching the cotton as if it’d hold him back from careening off the edges of anxiety. He thought he had made so much progress this season… but the tide pool had been one thing, he should’ve known the whole damn Gem Sea would’ve been another.

It wouldn’t do. No, it wouldn’t do to sit in the boat like a chump. Pathetic pathetic pathetic. He’d go in the water or die trying—probably not the best turn of phrase, he thought to himself with a wry smile. He was safe here. He was better here. Alex wouldn’t let him drown, not in a million years, he’d never seen a more dedicated lifeguard… Really, this was honestly probably the best case scenario, all things considered. If his mind and body decided to betray him and he ended up hyperventilating and flailing in the water, the only witness would be Alex. His… friend. One who had already seen him at his near-worst, that Spring night. And not to mention one who could deliver CPR.

He tentatively took off his shirt, folding it and setting it neatly atop the refolded the hoodie, now suddenly somewhat hyperconscious of how inferior his physique must’ve been compared to Alex’s. Achilles was typically quite satisfied with his appearance; it was, after all, highly and minutely calculated—scheduled haircuts, a personal tailor, a personal trainer (well, in his Hyacinthia days), an eight step skin routine, and whatever else his money bought him, semi-narcissist that he was. But now that he was in front of Alex… even the pneumonia aside…

You look like a dinky green bean. This if what you get for jogging all the time, you should start climbing again… or breaking up boulders and cutting down trees again…

The water may have been warm, but the breeze was still just cool enough to send a prickle of goosebumps down his arm. It was fine. All was fine. He slowly stood, bracing himself against the sides of the boat, focusing on his immediate surroundings rather than the expansive, never-ending horizon.

“The jellies are out!” Alex, who had been swimming steadily for the past half hour, re-approached the boat just as Achilles had been ready to stick a leg into the water. “Look!”

Look he did, but he had to look closely. The sun would be setting soon, and the orange light it was casting across the water made it difficult to make out the pale, translucent bodies, little clouds of lavender and aquamarine.

“Don’t worry, they don’t sting.” Alex danced carefully around the bobbing shapes, cupping one gently and holding it up to Achilles for a better look before quickly returning it to the sea. “Most of them won’t arrive until tomorrow though, these guys are just the early birds. Or… too soon jellies,’ if you will.” At Achilles’ bemused look, Alex added, “Hey, I’m not the one here that’s good with words.”

He ran his hand through his hair again, water droplets sparkling in the sun as they dripped hypnotically down the curve his bicep, but Achilles forced himself to instead follow Alex’s gaze down towards the jellyfish.

“They’re easier to see from the water, I think… but no pressure,” Alex added quickly. “You’ll see them tomorrow night from the pier, they’re super beautiful under the moon, they, like, glow and stuff.”

Tomorrow night? Nope, nope, he was going to do this. He was going to see them now. Jellyfish didn’t scare him—in fact, knowing there was another living thing in this great expanse of water was comforting.

He steeled himself, gritting his teeth and focusing on Alex’s calming presence, the man’s youthful delight at the jellyfish. There was no hope of him climbing out of the boat nearly as gracefully as Alex had, so he wasn’t even going to try.

Just fucking do it, already.

Eyes half-closed, fists clenched to his sides, he dropped into the water with an awkward splash.

A piercing shock instantly ricocheted through every corner of his body. His mind screamed for him to get back to land. His chest tightened, his heart was threatening to absolutely burst—but the instincts Alex had relentlessly drilled into him during the previous weeks sprung into action as he automatically started to tread. But every breath was a shallow, choking gasp, and something was dragging him, dragging him down—

There was a hand on his back—he could barely feel it, numb as he was rapidly becoming—but he could see Alex, slightly blurry, treading water close.

“—hey, hey, hey. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. We’re in the water right now, but we can head back as soon as you want to.”

This went on for a minute longer until his embarrassment had somewhat overcome his panic. His vision slowly restored itself, his breaths became slower, and he became dimly aware that Alex was gripping his hand. He must’ve still been out of it, for he could not quite bring himself to let go just yet.

Another handful of minutes… the initial violent shock gradually wore off and he regained full function of his senses. He released Alex’s hand and raised his arm to clutch the side of the boat for temporary support.

“Panic attack?” Alex asked.

“I’m fine, I’m fine…” Achilles fired a curt nod in his direction, warning Alex to keep a bit of distance as Achilles scrambled to recover his pride. “Just need another minute, you don’t need to run through the next 80 or so steps they taught you in lifeguard school… fuck. Fuck me…”

Humiliating, was it. And just what he had predicted in that imaginary scenario of his.

Well. At least you didn’t need CPR…

He stared resolutely at the jellies, focused on the warmth of the water, the sweetness that was so, so unlike the waters in Monstera. He was here. In the Gem Sea. With Alex. It was fine.

After another few minutes, he let go of the boat and began to tread water again. Slowly—he probably shouldn’t over exert himself. Alex, he noticed, was staying close. But not too close, likely conscious of the remaining scraps of dignity Achilles was desperate to hold tightly to. Kid was probably worried he’d have another tiny panic attack and keel over and drown…

He focused his gaze on the closest waves, now fully basked in gold; he could feel the heat of the setting sun against his neck. Alex had been right. You could see the jellyfish much better from here.

There must’ve been hundreds—maybe even thousands—slowly bobbing their way through the shallower depths of the water. They easily parted when passing him, tentacles sometimes just barely brushing against his legs, tickling his chest as they made their gentle swim north. Some of the jellies were as big as his head, pulsating through the water with a vigor unmatched by the tiniest ones, barely the size of Achilles’ thumb.

After a few minutes, Alex paddled smoothly over, now just half a foot or so away. If Achilles were brave enough to pause in his strokes and reach out a hand…

“It’s nice, isn’t it?”

“Yeah…”

Alex, probably now confident that Achilles was not going to drown anytime soon, dove under the water. Though the sun’s intense setting glare made it a little more difficult than before to see through the crystal clear depths, Achilles could still make out Alex spinning among the jellies, maneuvering through the crowds with an acrobatic ease. He seemed at home here. In the water. A reminder for Achilles of what a real shame it must’ve been to have had to give it up.

Achilles tried a couple strokes himself, mostly just so he could officially declare he had “swum” in the sea and cross off those damned post-it notes. His arms and legs were getting tired, but he didn’t want to be the one to call it in. Despite all his anxiety earlier that day, to finally be in the water, with the jellies, with Alex under the golden glow of the sun… it felt nice. A warmth was now spreading through his chest, melting the numbing buzz of his nerves and humiliation.

When Alex finally resurfaced, it was only a foot away from Achilles. He shook his hair like a dog, whipping droplets that ruthlessly pelted Achilles, who chuckled and threw an arm up, half-cowed against the boat.

“Hey, you ready to head back? It’ll be getting dark soon.”

“Oh yeah? Doesn’t sound like that’s ever stopped you.”

“All right, all right, all right. Good grief, I’ll buy a radio or something if it’ll make you happy…”

They both laughed. Alex hurtled up the ladder (which Achilles only just now noticed had been hammered into the side of the boat) first so that he got the brunt of the small boat’s nauseating tilt.

“Here,” he exclaimed, shoving a fluffy orange Orange Grove towel into Achilles’ chest after the latter had clambered slowly in to wearily drop like a stone into the wooden seat. “Better dry off good, if you get sick again, Harvey will kill me.”

Alex himself didn’t towel off, but instead grabbed the oars and began slowly rowing back to Stardew, paying special attention not to bonk any of the jellyfish on the head.

Exhausted (though he’d never admit it), it took a few minutes before Achilles realized he’d been watching Alex. An unfocused, almost detached stare, as if he were observing in an academic sort of interest—the freckles across Alex’s nose, the patch of mild sunburn below his right eye. The water running down his chest through the maze of well defined muscle. His arms flexing with each stroke of the oars.

Oh, but was it academic?

There was something else inside him—something beyond a surface-level appreciation for Alex’s obvious physical charm, something fuller; gratitude for Alex’s encouragement, appreciation for his care and concern, and…

Uh oh.

“You’re rowing next time, pal,” Alex exclaimed, pointing an oar, perhaps having mistakenly believed Achilles was watching their steady, up and down motion rather than their wielder.

You’re in trouble now, buddy.

They rowed through the remainder of the sunset in comfortable silence. The gold turned to red turned to dusty violet. Under the early moonlight, the small handful of jellyfish that were leading the pack—the promptest of the “too soon jellies,” to use Alex’s term—glowed luminescent, neon beacons following them under the water.

What to do, what to do…

What can you do?

The answer, he knew, was nothing—and so Achilles, stubbornly pragmatic as always, forced himself to pack up his little emotional revelation and stuff it deep down in the basement of his mind.

Outwards, he only leaned forward, forearms resting atop his thighs. With an easy smile, he swept aside the murmurs of his heart; it was easy to pretend nothing had changed. It had always been easy for Achilles to pretend. “So tell me about the festival—do I need to prepare anything this time?”

“Nah, no food. It’s pretty chill, folks will light lanterns, but it’s mostly just watching the jellies pass by. Not a super crowded festival, mostly old people, you know? But it’s popular first date stuff, if you can get the timing right. I suppose it can be… romantic…” There was suddenly something slightly tense in the arc of Alex’s eyebrows.

“Oh yeah?”

Alex frowned, tight lipped as he broke eye contact to glance at the jellyfish down below. There was definitely something going on here…

“Yeah… I’m going with Tanya.”

“Oh!” And to Achilles’ own surprise, despite the fact that he had somehow, in the span of one afternoon, realized he had fallen wholeheartedly in love with Alexander Mullner, he didn’t feel… bad at the news. Not even the slightest smidge of jealousy.

For days—weeks, months, really—even the slightest, accidental touch from Alex had, despite all his efforts, sent a flurry of static up his spine. He had told himself—repeatedly—that it had been stupid. He had told Haley and Emily it was nothing. But he was wrong, now. Yes, now he knew. This was more than mere physical attraction, more than just a stupid, helpless, juvenile crush.

And yet, this dramatic realization seemed to have somehow quieted the desire that he’d refused to fully acknowledge since that very first, rainy evening of the year. Calmed him. Paradoxical perhaps, but to Achilles’ logic-based mind, it seemed that finally coming to terms with the full extent of his feelings had allowed him to also finally truly come to terms with the outcome. Or, rather, lack thereof of one. No more stringing himself along, even subconsciously. Nothing more would ever arise from this, so Achilles might as well revel in what they did have. There’d clearly been a reason he’d fallen in love. Alex was, simply put, a good man. And Achilles would be lucky to keep him in his life, even if the role he played in it was a platonic one.

And so it was without a trace of either jealousy or needling anticipation that Achilles took note of Alex’s befuddled expression, delicate lips drawn down in almost a bit of a pout, and remarked, “You… don’t look happy about that.”

Alex shrugged, lurching the small boat ever so slightly to the right. “Haley doesn’t approve. Apparently she knew Tanya back in school, she doesn’t like her.”

“Okay, but do you?”

Another shrug. “She’s… pretty. Has a nice nose.”

“Wow—really, a nice nose, hmm? Truly, a five star review.”

A chuckle this time. Alex set the oars down, letting the boat coast for a moment with the evening tide. “I just feel like… I don’t know. I haven’t been on a date in awhile—”

“I find that incredibly difficult to believe.”

“Oh, no, I’ve had offers,” Alex said, biting back a smile as he shook his finger in mock consternation. “Obviously. I’ve just been… I don’t know. Busy? I don’t know, it’s fun sorta just doing your own thing, I guess, but you and Haley kept going on about Tanya though, so I figured, well… I mean. I don’t know. I just don’t think we have that much in common, and shouldn’t your girlfriend be like, I don’t know, your best friend? But I’m probably getting ahead of myself, I mean, it’s just a first date, right? Low stakes. Doesn’t mean I’m going to marry her…”

“Yeah, for sure. You’re just using it to get to know each other.”

*****

“Well, hooray! Congrats to you! How about we grab a bite at the saloon, I think you deserve a celebration, don’t you?”

They had rowed in below where Willy had his beachside shop, pulling up next to another, smaller, and significantly leakier rowboat. Achilles stepped out onto the boardwalk first while Alex tied the boat firmly to the dock, before the two sprinted up the stairs to the main level.

“What calls for a celebration?”

“You! On a boat! Swimming! In the sea! Obviously!?” With each exclamation, Alex waved both hands in the air to emphasize the unspoken “duh” of the situation.

“Oh geeze, I don’t believe having a panic attack on a boat necessarily calls for a toast—”

“Maybe not having one, but getting over one is. Hey—” Alex grabbed Achilles’ shoulder, spinning him around in the middle of the sand, and for a wild second, Achilles thought Alex was trying to kiss him.

Not so, however. Obviously.

“You don’t have to win an Artemian gold medal to justify feeling good about yourself, you know that, right? Swimming in the sea? You’ve never done that before. You’re allowed to celebrate the small wins, too.”

Right…

Ultimately, it was Achilles’ empty stomach that was predominately the reason why he allowed Alex to lead him by the arm to the saloon for a (nonalcoholic) drink. The celebration of it all still felt unearned. So he took a dip in the sea, so what? Vincent and Jas were probably doing that as soon as they could walk…

But at the Stardrop, Emily was just as excited as Alex after he had shared the news with her, and agreed wholeheartedly that a celebration was well deserved.

“It’s nice to have someone to bully you into it, I suppose,” Achilles said after the waitress left to grab their lemonades.

“Yes, those people are called ‘friends,’ Ash.”

“Well. It’s nice to have a friend, then.”

And the words left him warm.

*****

Achilles returned home feeling more at ease than he had in years. Strange, really, given the day’s start—Rasmodius’ lecture felt like eons ago. And stranger still, given the pervasive flurry of panic attacks that had followed him throughout his dealings with the open sea.

After taking some time to digest both the day and the Stardrop Saloon’s famous chicken caesar wrap, Achilles finally concluded Alex may have been right—he did deserve to feel proud. It had been quite an achievement, really, taking a swim out there. An overdue one, perhaps, but an achievement all the same. The thought added to the pleasant little glow already sitting in Achilles’ stomach, as he drew a smiley face next to the “Conquer the Sea and the Sand” and “Learn to swim, bitch!!!” notes on his mirror.

Maybe the evening’s serenity was merely the “winding down” of it all, a mellow denouement after the chaos of the day. Honestly, what had he and Rasmodius even rowed about that morning that had made him so upset? What did it matter? Nothing that an afternoon with Alex and a hearty saloon meal couldn’t help alleviate…

Achilles couldn’t remember what he and Alex had discussed at dinner—it was nothing too deep, just casual conversation, really, between friends. Perhaps something about the latest season of the House of the Phoenix TV adaptation that had just dropped… he only remembered that he had made Alex laugh.

Nevertheless, whatever it all was, after a late night shower he found himself, to a bit of his own disbelief, at his candlelit desk, a fountain pen in hand and a brand new notebook open and creased.

As he had told Elliott what seemed like a lifetime ago, some people wrote from pain—insisted that their best work could only be found after tapping into the darkest recesses of their mind for inspiration. Believing that only with suffering, with self-torture, the depths of despair, could they adequately bare their truths and create art that was worthy of being deemed “great.” But for Achilles, pain had always been paralyzing. No, Achilles wrote from peace.

#llnks #sunspraypeak #my fic #stardew valley fanfic #sdv fanfic #stardew valley alex #alex sdv #sdv farmer #stardew valley oc #aspec fanfic

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fueledbysano · 2 years

Text

𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄. sʜɪɴɪᴄʜɪʀᴏ sᴀɴᴏ

summary: you didn't mean to have a steamy exchange with a pretty stranger after borrowing his lighter.

♱ pairing: shinichiro x f!reader

♱ c/w: MATURE. detailed smut, car sex, unprotected sex, breast play, praising, brief alcohol and cigarette use, wakasa best wingman.

♱ a/n: saw this lighter and thought of him 😈 belated happy birthday 🤍

Shinichiro liked his birthdays simple. The presence of his family and friends over dinner was perfect and he considered the day well-spent.

Although, when it was time for the guys to come home, his best friends had one last surprise in mind. “Hold on, hold on, you really think we were just gonna give you some boring helmet?” Takeomi rests his palm over Shin's shoulder.

“What do you mean? It's nice, I liked it.”

“Oh... my guy, we have something better. Would just rather give it to you in private.” Wakasa spoke, taking the small paper bag containing Shin's second gift from the inside of his jacket.

And with curious eyes, the man of the hour opened the bag, looks melting into confusion as he finally took out a simple black lighter. “Wow, thanks, I guess.” He nods, just about to take the item back into the bag again.

“Read what it says...” The Akashi points out. Shinichiro obliged, flipping the lighter on its other side and read out the printed white words that said, “If you wanna f*ck, smile when you give me the lighter back.”

His cheeks warmed up at the lewd text, immediately shooting his friends a questioning glare. They must've loved his reaction as the three were now giggling like little girls, wishing they could capture the look on Shinichiro's face.

“So you can shoot your shot the next time we're out, man! They've gotta love this!” Wakasa says. “The Luxe. Saturday night. Don't be late.” Takeomi mentions, walking backwards with his hands in his pockets and a lit cigarette in between his lips.

Now, here they are at the night club Takeomi invited them to. Wakasa had his feet propped up on the empty seat, lightheadedness starting to kick in after all the shots they'd taken. Takeomi had his eyes on the women performing on stage, while Benkei had gone off to order more drinks for their table.

Although smoking isn't prohibited inside the premises, Shinichiro preferred to light up a stick out on the balcony with a sweet view and minimal crowd; and the thought never left his mind the moment it crossed.

So when he got up from the seat, excusing himself for a smoke outside, Wakasa reminds him of the special lighter, pointing at the onyx-haired man's left pocket where he had kept it.

“Fine, fine.” He mutters, sliding out of their booth then heading to the open space outside.

It almost seems as if he'd gone to a different place, with the environment being completely different from the nightlife inside the club. He quickly lit up a stick, covering the lighter's text in his palms so no one could see it and judge.

Though, upon shoving it back in his pocket, he felt a tap on his shoulder followed by a polite voice, “Hi, do you have a light?” A woman asks, holding a fresh cigarette in her lips.

If Shinichiro claimed he didn't find her attractive, he would be deceiving himself. There was something with her aura and [ E / C ] eyes which compelled him to linger and admire her presence.

Yes, he did have a light. But he also did not want you to assume he's a perverted man who picks people up with a lighter. So, in a fit of panic, he reaches out and touches the lit cigarette on his mouth with hers, his eyes riveted on the way her lips parted in response to the gesture while still keeping the stick in place.

She could only admire his features from their closeness while he was so intent on trying to light her stick while dipping his head in concentration as the flame incinerated toward hers.

Upon pulling away, she kept her gaze at him before exhaling a puff of smoke. “Can I buy you a drink…?” She trailed off, wondering for his name.

“Sano Shinichiro.”

“[ Y / N ] [ L / N ].” She responded. “I heard they serve a Glenmorangie ten here.” She added before stopping a waiter to order two shots for them.

“Uhm, are you celebrating anything?” He asks with a faint chuckle, turning his body towards hers.

“Oh, yes.” She nodded. “I celebrate meeting this cute guy outside the bar.” She chatted up, eyeing him serenely. Shinichiro’s lips tugged into a smirk in response, feeling himself ease into the conversation.

“And I think this guy wants your number too.” He blurted, looking away with a subtle smug smile, then inhaling from his cigarette. [ Y / N ] chuckled in response, dazzled by how quickly he responded to her line before entering the digits on his phone.

“You come here a lot?” He asks. “Nah,” She denied, tossing off the half-finished stick to a glass tray. “My friends are playing a set tonight and they asked me to come watch.” She gestured towards the stage inside, where a small band performed rock tunes.

“That’s cool.” He nods. “I see you like automotives?” She asks, gesturing at the sano motors patch on his jacket. “Oh, yes. I own a shop, actually.” He humbly smiled.

“That is so cool. You do cars?” She wondered. “Yeah, but mostly bikes. You own an impala?” He pointed at the set of keys hanging on her belt loop.

“Yeah…” [ Y / N ] tilted her head in amusement, “Wanna see it?”

“Absolutely.”

“Did you get it full-serviced? She sounds so clean.” He wondered, carefully revving the engine once they've got in. “Yes.” She nodded, admiring the way he handled her vehicle.

“Look at the gauge resistor too.” She leans to his side as they geek over the dashboard. They however didn’t realize their closeness with each other until [ Y / N ] supported herself with her hand on Shinichiro’s thigh.

He turns to her upon the sudden realization, now coming in contact with her neck. [ Y / N ]’s breath hitched upon feeling his warmth, as if it was their earlier moment all over again. But this time, with very little distance.

“Mmm.” With a leap of faith, Shinichiro leans in for a kiss, closing the space in their noses first before pressing their lips together. She melted in his touch in an instant, returning the same intensity of the kiss.

“Wanna see the backseat?” She offered.

“Absolutely.”

The stars in the darkening sky was nothing compared to the countless glimmer in their eyes that they held as they held each other for the first time.

His lips moved to devour hers, hands seeking the rightful place on her waist as he ran them over her clothed back.

Soft gasps and moans echoed into the still car, followed by a throaty groan from the man as she started to rock her hips against his.

Shinichiro's lips moved along her jawline, then pampered her neck with soft kisses attentive of her reactions and movements.

His hands trailed down [ Y / N ]'s waist, handling her thighs with care as she traced his toned body underneath the thin tank top, which he started to get lost into. Until, [ Y / N ] pulled away from the feverish kiss, guiding one of his hands under her skirt.

“Stop being a gentleman and fuck me already.” She whispered sensuously, in which he faintly whimpered in response to. “Fuck…” He exhaled upon feeling his fingers come in contact with her wet entrance. With one swift movement, he pulls off her underwear with a little of her help, blindly tossing it onto the front seat.

He wished he could relieve the straining hard-on in his jeans as she rode his fingers, which [ Y / N ] realized shortly. She had soon eased his jeans and underwear, as he ridded of her top.

“Is this okay, Shin~?” [ Y / N ]'s lips met his ear, softly whispering as to make sure they wanted to continue in the car.

“Y-yes…” He gulped, looking down in between theie bodies before taking his shaft, pumping it gently then spreading the pre-cum on his tip along her folds. “Oh fuck!” She gasped in response.

“Hey,” With his free hand, he gently strokes her cheek before leaning in for a sweet kiss, and then slowly pushing her body down his length. “Fuck yesss…” With a heavy pant against her skin, he'd pushed himself further inside her with ease.

Once he'd manage to pump his entire length into her, [ Y / N ] couldn't help but encase his entire length into her walls tightly to relieve the aching pulse, turning both of them into a moaning mess.

“It feels so tight, does it hurt?” Shinichiro checks, “No, far from it.” She assured. “Good girl, I'll move you now.” With his cue, she fastened herself onto his shoulders before being lifted, then bounced on his cock.

With every slow, yet deep thrust followed a pleasured gasp and moan. Shinichiro would close his eyes and bury his nose in her neck as he whispered sweet nothings, treating her body with uttermost care and pleasure.

Every so often she would tug on his locks for a bit, earning a growl reverberating through their lips in the heat of the moment.

“God, Shin!” She breathes out at the feeling of his girth nudging against her spot, and his tip hitting somewhere so deep inside of her. “Can I go a little rough?" He asks, now nibbing on the skin of her clavicle.

In response, [ Y / N ] held the man by the neck, pressing their bodies closer before starting to bounce on his length faster than ever. Shinichiro gasped in response, holding onto her shoulders for support and suppressing his moans into her ear.

“[ Y / N ]!” He cried out, his nails digging small crescents onto her skin with every hard bounce. “Darling, gonna— cum—!” She panted, feeling herself squeeze and spill around his cock deep inside her.

“Where do you want it, baby?” He asks, feeling himself spill soon enough after her upon feeling her walls grip his cock harder than ever. and with a wicked idea, [ Y / N ] pulls herself off of him, causing the man to frown for a moment.

[ Y / N ] fell to her knees, locking eye contact with Shinichiro as she discarded her bra. “Why don't you cum on my face and tits like a messy boy?”

“Mmmh, [ Y / N ]...” He felt himself melt weak when she surround her breasts on his dripping cock, watching as he mindlessly thrust and fucked her tits.

“Cum for me, Shinichiro. You really deserve it.” Hearing his name slip from her mouth so sultry was the last straw, spurting his hot load onto her face first, until they slowly spilled down her tits shortly.

[ Y / N ] gasped in amazement, admiring the dazed boy in front of her before rewarding him with a kiss.

“Mmmh— so sweet, darling.” He hummed softly, holding her close for a deep kiss.

[ Y / N ] then opened her eyes shortly, exchanging adoring glances with Shinichiro. “Hey, I hope this doesn't seem too forward, but, I think you're really nice.” She spoke, freeing herself from his lap and retrieving their clothes.

“I was thinking, maybe we could go back to my place for a proper dinner?” She offered. Shinichiro blushed, dressing up rather quickly then taming his hair nicely.

“I would like that.” It sure was enchanting to be the one getting asked out this time.

ㅤ

“Good morning.” Shinichiro noticed the glimpse of someone reading a newspaper in their living room, assuming it was his grandpa. However, upon speaking, he was startled to see his friends in his house very early in the morning.

“Hey…” He scratched his head, hoping they wouldn't realize that he didn't spend the night at the Sano household.

“I see you’ve put our gift into use…” Wakasa points out.

“Alright, get out.” He groaned, pointing at the door.

Turns out, he didn’t need that damn lighter to pick up a woman; after all. His charms alone even landed him a proper date.

🔖; @tokyometronetwork

#shinichiro sano #shinichiro sano x reader #shinichiro x reader #shinichiro x y/n #shinichiro scenarios #tokyo revengers #shinichiro x reader smut #shinichiro x you #shinichiro sano smut #shinichiro smut

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kuroosweakness · 4 years

Text

things the haikyuu boys did when they had a crush on you

miya atsumu

started wearing whatever you really liked wearing/complimented him on. if you mentioned the print on his shirt, you best bet he’ll be wearing that shirt for a whole week straight. a shirt he once thought nothing of is now his favorite shirt.

“‘tsumu, why don’t you try changing. you know, y/n could probably smell you a mile away,” osamu said to atsumu one morning as they were walking to school.

“nuh uh,” atsumu quipped back. “i washed it with the detergent y/n likes.”

“oh so you finally learned how the washing machine works?”

“‘samu you’re ruining it for me.”

asked overly-personal questions. not to be creepy or weird, but because he cherished the information he knew about you that no one else did; it made him feel special

“y/n, do you have any big regrets?”

“is there um, anyone you feel really happy around?”

“what’s your guilty pleasure? c’mon everyone has them.”

“have you ever been bullied?”

got visibly irritated whenever another guy interrupted your conversation with him. or if you were just smiling too hard when talking to a guy he doesn’t know about

“if you keep frowning like that, you’ll look like a grandpa by next year,” osamu said right before biting into his onigiri.

“shut up, ‘samu,” he groaned, trying his best to distract himself from the fact that you looked happier talking to another guy than him. did you smile that hard when he made a joke? he sure hopes so :’

kuroo tetsurou

pointed out the smallest differences in you. he noticed the slightest changes in your body language, style, mood, etc etc. on your bad days, he desperately wanted to ask if anything was wrong, but didn’t want to risk overstepping boundaries. so he just asked “how’s your day?” and even if you answered with a “good/fine/okay” he would know you weren’t telling the full truth

if you came to school wearing a brand new pair of shoes, he’ll point it out and tease you all about it. if you showed up with a new hairstyle, kuroo won’t say anything, but you can tell he noticed because of the way he looks at it.

even if you cut off three centimeters of your hair, he probably noticed.

kept trying to fix his appearance around you

he tried making it really subtle too. he’ll smooth down his jacket, try to flatten down his hair, and straighten his collar around you in hopes that it’ll make him look a bit better (he’s such a cutie 🥺 okay who’s gonna tell him that he’s looks perfectly fine the way he is)

teased you, in a flattering way. the type of teasing where you have to force yourself from smiling too hard. and he only does it to you! no one else is worth his teasing

but the moment someone else starts teasing you, he’d act a little ... distant. he’d back off and just watch you interact with them. if you look uncomfortable, he’d immediately put a stop to it and put them back in their place.

called you by a nickname only he uses

at first, he used it as a joke. but overtime, it just stuck and now it doesn’t feel right for him to call you by your first name. again, the annoyance is clear on his face when someone called you by the same nickname

~~~

when you first met kenma, he said, “y/n? i’ve heard a lot *glances at kuroo* about you.”

suna rintarou

lowkey protects you. such as putting an arm in front of you, shielding you with his body, draping his jacket over your head, lending you his umbrella, that type of stuff (ugh just kiss already)

he acted like it was no big deal. it’s not like he’d admit it was on his mind for a whole week. the miya twins knew something was up when suna suggested watching a romance movie. (suna needed new scenarios with you in his head)

subtly invited you everywhere, made excuses to be around you

“hey, we have a game on saturday at *specific location* in case you wanna come”

“since they’re having a buy-one-get-one-free, it’ll be a shame if you didn’t come along ...”

“since we’re both headed towards that place, might as well go together”

unexpectedly defended you/your opinion in conversations and class. even though suna rarely talks in class, if you brought up a point/answer, he’d defend it

sakusa kiyoomi

had trouble meeting your eyes without blushing

even with his mask on, you could see the redness spread across his cheekbones whenever you spoke to him.

always plopped himself in a seat close to you, even with all those other empty seats

his became more soft, gentle, and high-pitched around you, his posture became less stiff

it’s subtle; he didn’t even notice a change in his own voice. maybe because there’s nothing else on his mind when he’s talking to you?

always walked a little bit slower in the hallways when he saw you pass by and eyed you, hoping that you’d notice him like the way he noticed you

bokuto koutarou

stumbled with his words and forgot basic things around you

“class? what do you mean by ‘we have to go to class’??”

listened intently to everything you said and memorized facts about you better than his vocabulary words

“akaashi, did you know that y/n’s favorite ice cream flavor is ...”

“nope, y/n can’t make it today. how do i know? because they told me in advance :D oh wait, y/n’s not gonna be here today?? D’:”

made a handshake with you to do in front of everyone to show off that your connection with him is special

the pride he felt when everyone gathered around to watch you and him do your special handshake 🥺

got you gifts out of nowhere simply because you said you liked it

his mindset goes: getting y/n ___ = y/n happy :) i better get it for them before someone does

tendou satori

always lends you his stationary and whenever he forgets a pencil, you’re the first person he asks. don’t worry, he always returns them right after :)

he also loves “borrowing” your personal things. the idea of you trusting him is really special to him. plus, whenever someone asks him where he got it, he gets to say, “oh, it’s y/n’s.”

loves, loves, loves passing notes in class!!

he kept all of your conversations with him in a special little box hidden in his room.

complimented the little things he knows you care about!

he loves seeing that beautiful smile of yours while knowing he’s the cause of it.

he smiles so much around you <33 tendou’s smile is so contagious it’s hard to be sad around him. not to mention he always knows how to cheer you up :’

iwaizumi hajime

whenever his friends talked about hot actors and classmates they found attractive, he never joined in. (if you were there, he’d be glancing at you ever-so-often)

he’d always offer to walk/drive you home. every single day. even if you insisted that he didn’t need to, it would take another five minutes of convincing him. if you said yes, he happily got you home. no matter what occasion, he always asked you. it was your regular, daily routine with him :)

made jokes only for you to hear. he loved having inside jokes with you that only you two understood. the confusion on other peoples’ faces was satisfying.

akaashi keiji

had a lot of sympathy for you over small things (and big things too, of course)

if your weekend plans got messed up, if you lost your jacket, forgot your stationary, tripped on the stairs, he’s the person you go to to talk about these things. he never belittles your struggles and always finds a way to help you feel better

always checked in with you and made sure you had a lunch to eat

even if your classroom is across the campus, you better expect him to be at the front door after your class is over

tried his best to get to know your friends and family (and pets!)

akaashi best boy 🥺 the way he sees your friends and family as his own because he knows how much they matter to you

-> a/n: i hope you like these hehe :))

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1kook · 4 years

Text

imax & climax

summary; The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings; fingering, blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl kinda idk lol, daddy kink that morphs into i love u kink tags; jk is an avid history channel viewer, jk hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, jk goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count; 9.8k

notes; there is no rest for the wicked, aka miss 1kook writes another part for this fic i swore wasn't gonna be a series except this time we ditch the gentlemen persona and go into maximum overdrive. its not proofread bc i wrote this entire thing at 4 am last night after inhaled a whole bucket of spicy popcorn

[ part 1 ; netflix & chill ] [ part 2 ; hulu & wohoo ]

Jungkook sees it on display during your weekly Target trip. You know he won’t say anything because despite how long you’ve dated he still likes to pretend he’s the epitome of adult maturity. Yet the way his eyes linger over the electronics section, cart rolling to a stop in front of the massive screen, tells you all you need to know.

“Baby, the toilet paper is this way,” you sing, giving the front of the cart a gentle tug that pulls it and his thoughts away from the television that seems to hold reign over his interest.

“Ah,” he mumbles as he shakes himself out of whatever trance he was in. “Right.”

The Target trip ends rather uneventfully; you grab all the items you came for and make the executive decision of swapping Jungkook’s tangerine bathroom soap with strawberry instead. Normally he’d put up a good fight, argue about the comfort that came with consistency, but today he says nothing. You chalk it up to that flatscreen that hypnotized him earlier.

“You wanted it,” you announce rather pointedly in the car. He’s backing out of the parking space now, one hand on the wheel the other pressed to the side of your seat. His jaw twitches as he tries to maneuver around a stray shopping cart someone didn’t return to the retrieval area. He’s wearing that dark jumper you like, with the high collar that covers all of last night’s bruises up wonderfully.

Jungkook scoffs as he finally gets the two of you back onto the main road, Target and the flat screen left behind. “I didn’t,” he defends. “Just thought it was neat.”

You snort. “Neat. Okay, grandpa, did it tickle your pickle?” you tease, obnoxiously leaning over the center console to get all in his face. Jungkook greets your proximity with a palm against your forehead.

“Please don’t ever say that again,” he laughs, pulling to a stop at the next red light. He turns to level you with an easygoing grin, sparkly anime girl eyes extra shiny under the red glow. “Only want you to tickle my pickle.”

You gag. “That’s actually disgusting.”

——

You graduate on a Saturday and your dorm stay expires on the Tuesday that follows. You spend the entire day shoving all your belongings into a variety of trash bags, from your weighted blanket to the collection candles you and Doyeon swore to light every night and never did. Speaking of Doyeon, she cries through the entire process. From the moment you take down the first wall decoration she’s in tears, and not even her mom, who’s come to help out, can quell her emotions. The girl cries and cries. She cries throughout the clean up, like she hadn’t spent the week before cursing the funky aircon system to hell and back. It’s probably the nostalgia that comes with leaving college, you assume. When Jungkook picks you up around noon, even your eyes are glassy.

Jungkook’s mom, who you only just met a few months ago, is over at his place when you arrive. You get along fairly well, in fact, you would even go as far as to claim you got along really well. You had first met her over this past spring break when Jungkook invited you along to his family trip to some tropical island. The Jeons were lovely people. In fact, had Jungkook not explicitly introduced them as his parents, you would’ve thought they were some sitcom actors carrying out the role of most in love, sophisticated lovers to ever exist. Yeah, they were super into each other, and you suppose it’s why Jungkook is the way he is, loves as hard as he does. The only thing that broke their attention away from each other was the sight of their precious Jungkookie bringing you to a family event.

It was hard to keep them entertained. Every second was spent worrying about your appearance, your demeanor, whether or not you looked like a devil beside their (your) angelic boy. It certainly didn’t help that Jungkook was wearing that obnoxiously floral shirt at the restaurant you went to, the first three buttons undone almost lazily. It was a look your boyfriend rarely showed, always so meticulously dressed. Of course, he had that cute boyish style of his that consisted almost exclusively of baggy pants and designer tee’s a little too plain to cost as much as they did. But even those outfits had a specific Jungkook rhythm to them— the darker tones always went with the pants that had twelve buckles on them; the long sleeves always went with the jeans. He was awfully particular about those kinds of self-set rules, and this jarring floral print did not fit any of them. It was too provocative, the black skinny jeans he’d paired with it too devious.

Maybe he knew what he was doing to you dressed so hot like this, but knowing Jungkook, you doubt he did. His parents hadn’t batted a single lash his way, eyes laser focused on your every word as you stumbled through three plates and dessert. It was a battle you fought alone, and one you barely survived.

So despite you impressing his parents, she still gives you an odd look when you enter Jungkook’s swanky townhouse with all your garbage bags of items. You promise her it’s just for the weekend, until your parents clean out your old room that they’ve filled to the brim with holiday decorations and miscellaneous objects. You’re not trying to take her baby chick out of the nest. (Yet.)

You watch TV for a couple hours, mostly her favorite soap operas on his 67 in. screen. It takes up a huge spot on the wall where it’s mounted, glossy black screen glaring back at you. Even his mom scolds him for such a huge screen, and you wonder how she’d feel about the absolute giant he ogled at the Target last week. Super angry, you think, and the image of her raging in flames while Jungkook apologizes like the momma’s boy he is makes you giggle.

She leaves a little after sunset, kissing and hugging the both of you on the doorstep like she’s going off to war and will never return. She’ll be back by the weekend, desperate to check on her baby boy, but you let her have her moment. It’s weird seeing how dramatic the Jeons are compared to how reserved Jungkook is.

You pounce on him the second she’s gone. He goes down with a muffled yelp against the sofa, hands grasping at your waist until you straddle him and begin going to town. Your fun lasts all of two minutes before the old lady novella Jungkook’s mom had been watching cuts to commercials and a loud advertisement for irritable bowel syndrome medication begins playing.

“Oh, that is so not sexy,” you whine childishly, trying to roll your hips over him again. Jungkook laughs, all low and sweet as he sits back up again.

“Give it a rest,” he says, shifting you until he’s got you hugged between those stupidly strong arms of his. His pecs feel strong and comforting beneath your cheek, and the feeling makes your tiny pouting session end earlier than usual. “Come on,” he mumbles as he manhandles you around, until your back is pressed against his chest and you’re sitting between his legs. “Let’s watch this film on Mesopotamian folklore and its overall significance to the nations it birthed after its downfall.”

——

You rarely use the key Jungkook gifted you a few months back. The majority of your visits to Jungkook’s house were either the result of Jungkook picking you up from somewhere and bringing you back, or Jungkook inviting you over after dinner. In short, he was always with you when you arrived at his stoop.

Today you’re alone, juggling two boxes of takeout and some cheap wine in one hand as you fight to unlock his door. He hadn’t answered his phone, which leads you to believe he’s holed himself up again in that damn study. He likes to do that sometimes, lock himself away like some modern day Rapunzel until he finishes whatever project he has this time around. When he gets like this, it’s like all other body functions are forgotten, his brain zeroed in on the lines of code you barely understand.

Just as you suspect, the house is too dark when you finally break in. The hall light is off, which isn’t out of the norm, but so are the kitchen and living room lights. You pad down the hall, flicking on the light to the living room to set down your offerings onto the edge of the coffee table. There’s a scrambled pile of notes on top that seem too disorderly to disregard. You whirl around, making to head back out into the hall and down to the study, when you see it.

A good 90 inches mounted on his wall. It’s a monstrosity of a screen, devouring nearly the entire surface of the wall, from stainless end to stainless end. It’s ridiculously thin in the way all modern TVs are, but this one is even more so given the fact you hadn’t registered it in your peripheral when you walked in. It’s just barely short of a Jumbotron, the kind they have at baseball games to make sure you can see every nose hair on the pitcher.

His mom was going to kill him.

“Jungkook?” you call out slowly, inching back out into the hall with your gaze glued to the screen. Like maybe you’ve imagined this all and that isn’t the stupidly gigantic television screen Jungkook had gawked at just a few weeks ago.

There’s a soft hum down the hall, the sound slipping beneath the bottom gap in the door frame. You make a beeline for the room, oddly unsettled with the huge screen. The door gives way, exposing your boyfriend’s hunched back and the blue light from his monitors that highlights his frame. “Hi, sweetie,” you begin, inching over to him.

“Hi,” he sighs, leaning back into your touch when you step behind him. His dark eyes are weary from staring at his tablet for too long, his usual tender expression melted into one of mild irritation. “Can’t figure this out,” he says, tapping his stylus against one line of absolute nerd gibberish you don’t bother trying to decipher. Maybe another day you would have entertained him, but today you cherish this moment with him knowing it might be his last before his mom comes over and kills him.

“Sounds like break time to me!” Your proclamation makes him frown, a frustrated groan pulling itself from his lips. His head droops forward again, chin touching his chest. But there’s a hint of relief in his groan that tells you all you need to know. “Baby needs a break,” you smile, pressing a peck against the back of his head.

“You’re baby,” he tries to fight, but his limbs are so pliant under your touch that it practically means nothing. “I’m the head honcho around here.”

“Uh huh,” you appease him, finally managing to tug all that muscled body out of his seat. “And apparently that means making dumb purchases.”

“What dumb purchases? Are you talking about the cactus again?” he asks, letting you guide him back down the hall.

“Yes, Kook, the cactus you haven’t watered in three months,” you drawl sarcastically, the sad plant sitting in the kitchen a reminder of both your incompetence. “Namjoon would hate you for that.”

Not amused by the insinuation of his favorite senpai being disappointed in him, Jungkook goes to fight you on that. By then you’ve stopped at the entrance of the living room, glaring at the straight up theater screen that sits on the wall. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mimic, flopping down on the ground beside the coffee table. Jungkook doesn’t follow, choosing to sprawl himself over the couch instead. “What’s with the Jumbotron?”

He stretches his arms out, moaning something sinful at the way his bones pop. “It adds to the experience,” he says. “Movies are more enjoyable when the pictures are bigger; a tall aspect ratio and stadium seating really add to the experience.” He was such a nerd.

You snort. “The experience— Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know I was speaking to Mr. IMAX here.”

His cheeks flush a soft pink at your jab. “Don’t be mean,” he mumbles, tugging on your arm as he sits back up. You find your way onto his lap, neatly seated over one thigh like he’s the Santa Claus at the mall; not a single gray hair in sight but you’d still let him call you his hoe, hoe, hoe. Realizing there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Christmas ham, you shake those images away.

“Good thing I brought a movie,” you beam, gesturing to the pretty pink case resting over top the takeout bag.

Jungkook doesn’t even spare it a single glance as he burrows into your neck. “What? No, we’re finishing the docuseries on—“

You groan loudly to muffle the rest of his sentence. “Kook, I don’t wanna watch another episode on Stonehenge being done by aliens,” you whine, picking up the movie case to brandish in his face.

It’s admittedly the wrong move when Jungkook’s eyes roll themselves into another dimension. “Absolutely not,” he says. The case is quickly discarded off to the side as he attempts to distract you with a kiss against your cheek.

Too bad you’re evil and determined. “No! We are watching the Princess and the Pauper and that’s final,” you exclaim, scrambling for the movie before he can hurl it out the window. He catches you by the waist, your fingers just an inch away from the pink case. “Babe!” you cry, but his fingerprints are bruising their way into your skin.

“No more Barbie movies,” he begs, yanking you back onto his lap. He does so with so much force that it makes the two of you tumble to the side, your head bouncing on the cushions as he catches himself over you. “Please.”

“I hate you,” you fuss, pointedly ignoring the tiny mole beneath his lip that drove you crazy. “We’ve seen every single thing on the History Channel this week, but we can’t watch one Barbie movie?”

Jungkook sighs, dropping his head down against your shoulder. He smells good and feels even better over you, but you’re not going to stop until the Princess and the Pauper is breaking in the new Jumbotron. “It’s weird,” he huffs, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “Especially when we start getting… experimental, and I have to listen to Barbie sing in the background.”

“First of all, her name is Annaleise in this movie,” you correct, squirming beneath him to no avail. “Secondly, how do you think I feel when you’re eating me out while some old British dude narrates the creation of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon?”

Jungkook scoffs, finally letting himself snuggle completely into you. “You don’t even realize it because you’re screaming the whole way through.” That earns him a sharp tug at his ear that has him sputtering apology after apology.

“It’s boring!” you feel the need to emphasize.

Jungkook sits up with an uppity look on his face. “It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate the cinematography that comes from educational pieces,” he points out, rather presumptuously.

You shove him off of you. “I don’t care about cinnamon topography, just play the damn Barbie movie,” you hiss, swiping the movie case from the other end of the couch and pressing it to his chest. If words could hurt, yours definitely do. Jungkook crumbles against the couch, childishly stomping one sock-clad foot against the ground as you gesture toward the movie player.

He doesn’t move, and you’re about to begin another tirade against his snobby movie critiquing habits when he procures a sleek, tiny remote that you would honestly mistake for an iPhone from a distance. It has, no joke, about seven buttons max, four of which are just the up and down, left and right arrows. You let out a low whistle at that. Wow. Technology sure was advancing.

The TV turns on to some minimalistic home page, tiny widgets showing every app it has; the bottom row is dedicated almost entirely to Jungkook’s massive streaming service provider collection. After a moment of brewing in his feels, Jungkook quietly announces, “it’s on Amazon Prime.” This is news to you, being able to watch a Barbie film on a streaming service and not the old disk you scratched when you were ten. Something distinctly carnal flashes in your chest when Jungkook clicks through all the payment options without a care in the world. Oh, that was definitely going into your horny 3 am dreams.

Despite his earlier protests, you know Jungkook will soon fall into his usual movie watching habits. He settles into the couch beside you. You cuddle up next to him, enveloping him with the grip of a killer octopus choking out its prey, except Jungkook is usually the one doing the choking in this relationship. Still, it’s not close enough, and you throw your legs over his thigh. You’re practically sitting on him at this point.

You have no doubt the speakers on this thing are average; it was too thin to really pack any punch. However, that was the TV sans the Bluetooth speakers Jungkook has installed all around his house.

(You swear when the android uprising finally begins, your boyfriend will be the first one out.)

The speakers really amplify the sound. The opening sequence has your bones rattling inside your body, the loud music of the selection screen reverberating through the entire living room. It reminds you of that pounding COMING SOON clip that used to play at the beginning of DVD’s back in the day. Jungkook scrambles to lower the volume. “Sweetheart, you’re cutting off my circulation,” he wheezes afterwards.

“What? This is how we always watch movies,” you say with a frown.

“Yes, and I always end up with less oxygen than before.”

He doesn’t let you argue, which is good, because you could make a thirty five slide PowerPoint presentation on the advantages of watching movies like this. One, your boyfriend was warm. Two, your boyfriend smelt good. Three, your boyfriend’s ripped body awoke some ancient being inside of you that would not rest until his cock was halfway down your thro—

He hauls you into his lap. The angle forces you to let him go, instead met with the jarring nothingness of having his hot body ripped away. Meanwhile he gets to wrap you up in his arms, hold you like a teddy bear to his chest. “I hate this,” you huff, but the movie is already starting, the beautiful blonde Anneliese appearing on screen. You lean back against his chest, pout still evident. “This is ridiculous,” you snort, her face blown up on this jumbo screen.

“Shut up,” he says, settling in behind you. “Movie’s starting.”

Most Barbie movies you watch end up in one of two ways: either Jungkook falls asleep twenty minutes in or he stays up until the end to critique every aspect of it. With the way he’d gone soft from your early battle, you’re guessing he was going to knock out before the Princess can even meet the Pauper.

As much as you hate to admit it, the huge screen does incite quite a thrill in you. There’s something so nostalgic about watching one of your favorite childhood movies on a screen this huge. The size showcases the sheer perfection that is every single Barbie movie. You lose yourself in the movie, singing along to the opening song and growing agitated when the antagonist appears.

Jungkook says nothing, and you’re half convinced he’s taken his first preferred route and snoozed off, when his fingers twitch around your waist.

There it was.

The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack.

“Absolutely not,” you say, slapping a hand down over his before he can slip beneath the fabric of your shorts.

He lets out an indignant noise, a puff of air running along the side of your face. You ease his hands back over your stomach, taking extra care to knot your fingers with his. “We’re supposed to be breaking in your new screen,” you remind him, glancing up to catch his unimpressed expression.

He complains quietly, but he settles.

For all of twenty seconds.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, trying to act like the subtle rutting of his cock on your behind was a nuisance and not the luxury it is. “Babe, the jumbo screen… look at it.”

“Not even jumbo,” he murmurs against your ear, hot breath sending a shiver down your spine that has your toes curling. You fight to keep his hands still, but the muscles in his forearm tense, inked skin contracting as he slips them between your thighs. You suck in a sharp inhale, trying to maintain your immovable front. Jungkook sees the fortress you’ve built around yourself in the name of watching The Princess and the Pauper, and spares you no mercy with his attack. His hands massage the skin of your thighs, tiny shorts doing absolutely nothing to save you from him. “Jumbo didn’t fit.”

The back of your mind registers the fact he was apparently trying to get a TV even bigger than this. You tuck it away for later to snitch to his mom. For now, you’d very much appreciate it if he could make you cum before the two girls perform the iconic “I Am a Girl Like You” song.

His hands are so smooth, soft skin tracing over your body like you were nothing but a slab of clay ready to be molded under his touch. He abandons your thighs to creep them under your shirt, where he wastes no time tugging the cups of your bra down to fondle your breasts.

Belatedly, your stupid tongue remembers to move. “I know something jumbo that fits,” you babble, rolling your head back against his shoulder. Jungkook laughs at the utter stupidity of your sentence, and the aforementioned jumbo thing fattens against your ass, before brushing his lips against yours. The airy laughter, one of your favorite sounds in the world, is swallowed up by your greedy mouth. “Can fit in two places, actually,” you murmur when he pulls away. His fingers massage the doughy skin of your boobs causing your back to arch slightly. “Wherever he wants it to.”

“Really,” Jungkook teases, obviously entertained by your silly dirty talk. He’s grown used to your outlandish remarks in the past few months of your relationship.

You like to believe Jungkook has fully accepted your occasional bouts of weirdness. He’s had the last few months to grow familiar with the inner workings of your mind, and even absorbed some of it into his own personality. Which is why he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by you referring to his cock as jumbo, when there were admittedly more fitting words to describe it as.

(Thick, juicy, angry, demon cock, if he really wanted to know.)

“Where do you think it should go?” he asks, the low hum of his voice snapping you out or your thoughts. There was no need to daydream about a cock that was right in front of you. His hands slow their gentle caress over you, fingers closing in on your nipples.

A sharp hiss pulls itself from your throat, chest arching as he tugs and toys with your hardened nipples. “Wh-Wherever,” you pant, reaching your own hands down back between your thighs. The phantom of his palms linger, making your hands feel sorely inadequate. “Wherever Daddy wants,” you purr, swallowing harshly when he twists a nipple.

Jungkook groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Don’t,” he sighs, hands faltering over your breasts. Eventually they drift away, settling around your waist as you slip your fingers under the front of your bottoms.

“Why?” you laugh, pointer finger brushing along your clit. “Don’t like it when I call you that, Daddy?”

He lifts his head to watch you play with yourself. His hands grow tight around your waist, labored breath filling the air to harmonize with your breathy moans. You’re absolutely soaking your panties, sticky arousal making the fabric stick to your folds. “You know I do,” he murmurs, watching the outline of your knuckles through the fabric of your shorts. “Thought you wanted to play nice today.” He takes in a sharp inhale when you ease your finger into yourself, a breathy moan escaping from your lips.

You were already so wet, and you’re really not surprised this is how the two of you would break in his new IMAX, high definition flatscreen. Your pussy tightens around your finger, thigh muscles jumping at the intrusion. Fuck, you needed him so bad.

You smirk, drawing your hands out from their hiding spot. The television is the only thing lighting the room, the two of you shrouded in relative darkness. At first, your hand is shadowed by the glow of the screen, nothing more than an outline. But when you turn it just right, the light catches, highlighting the glistening skin of your fingers. It makes Jungkook shudder.

Ever so slowly, you bring your fingers up to his face. The tip of your middle finger runs teasingly against his plump lower lip, his shaky exhales sending a cool breath over your knuckles. “Open, Daddy,” you encourage, watching with rapt attention as he envelopes your fingers between his lips. He sucks, tongue dancing between each digit to slurp off your juices. “Do I taste good? Do you like it?”

You know he loves it, but it never hurts to ask.

Between the two of you, you each had your own share of distinctive interests when it came to sex. Kinks, if you will. You adored the softer, vanilla aspects of sex— the languid makeouts, the slow rutting against his thigh, the whispered praise, the cute pet names. Meanwhile, despite his initially reserved exterior, Jungkook preferred the other end of the spectrum. (You should’ve known from the get go!) He loved it fast and hard, so hard it would make you cry. He liked watching you squirm and beg for his cock while he pushed you to new heights. He liked the sticky, sweaty sex that left you feeling like a used rag beneath him, something you would have never expected given his neat and kind nature.

However, as with all things Jungkook, you always came first. Jungkook’s dream sex style was often pushed to the side in favor of pleasuring you. So quick and rough sex was more of a rare, once in a blue moon, type of luxury. Up until recently, sex had been mostly what you wanted. Either way you did things, Jungkook was fine as long as he got to hold you close.

It was only a few weeks ago that you discovered your shared daddy kink, him obsessed with the idea of shoving you around, something he would otherwise never do. You, on the other hand, found a pleasant satisfaction from being good for him, a stark contrast from your usual sharp tongue and nonexistent filter.

You pull your fingers from his mouth, the sleek drip of your arousal replaced with his saliva. Jungkook grunts as he hauls you further onto his lap, swollen cock nudging itself between your cheeks. “You know I love it, baby,” he growls against your ear. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Have you had your fun now?” he asks, tracing the pads of his fingers around your nipple teasingly.

“Mhm,” you moan. Jungkook’s hands decide they’re done toying with your tits, drifting back down to their original target between your shorts. “Want Daddy to fuck me now.”

He places a kiss against the side of your neck, right over the vein that runs beneath the skin. Jungkook kisses and nips down your skin, until his hair is tickling your collarbones as he sucks a hickey against the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Is that the right way to ask for something?” he purrs, rubbing your cunt over your shorts.

It’s nowhere near as fulfilling as it would be without the garments. Nonetheless, it makes you ache for him, thighs quivering at the simple touch like you’re a bumbling virgin being touched for the first time. You’re nowhere near that, but every time with Jungkook was exhilarating enough to the point it felt like it was.

“Pretty please,” you pant, covering his hand with yours.

Jungkook rewards you with a fluttery kiss against your shoulder. “Good girl,” he hums. He finally gives you what you want, bypassing the fabric of your shorts and panties to dip his fingers between your folds. You gasp, hips jumping at the sudden brush of his hands along your quivering folds.

“Inside please,” you whimper, knees moving back and forth, only stopping when he helps you out of your bottoms. He places his free hand on one of them, stilling your writhing to fully focus on pleasing the burning fire inside of you. “Jungkook—“

A slap against your cunt that makes you squeal. “Ah ah,” he warns, voice a low tenor against your skin. If you focus hard enough, you can feel the faint brush of a smirk against your neck. “We’re playing a different game right now, pretty girl.”

On screen, your favorite childhood movie is bearing witness to the sinful acts at your boyfriend’s hands. It shouldn’t be surprising how easily you fall into his arms, onto his lap, especially with your history of movie watching with Jungkook.

From your very first date you were enamored with him; the dip of his Cupid’s bow, so innocent and cute, embodied every single aspect of his personality. He was the sweetest, softest boy, one your brain could never conjure in a thousand years. Jungkook’s level of care was hard to come by nowadays; he was a gentleman through and through.

These days he was growing out of that mature persona, and you like to think it’s thanks to you. Your wildness rubbed off on him, made him confident enough to geek out in public, or be adventurous in private. It helped nourish his impulsivity, which led to things like the Super Bowl Jumbotron watching you fuck now.

Despite knowing all this, knowing the way he is, the slow grind against your ass sends a thrill of arousal up your limbs, sensations converging just beneath your mound. “Yes, Daddy,” you mewl accordingly.

Pleased with your obedience, he rewards you by circling your throbbing clit with his thumb. It’s a terribly slow motion, pad of his finger easing over your engorged bud every other second. You wanted more, needed more. You squirm beneath him, attempting to push your clit against his palm. Your efforts are in vain when he clamps a hand down on your waist. “Sit still,” he growls.

You whimper. “Need more,” you rasp out. Your whole body is acting out now, shifting and turning as you try to wiggle closer. Your mouth brushes against his jawline. The sharp angle is the first thing your muddled thoughts focus on, lips hungrily latching onto his porcelain skin to suck a purple blossom onto it.

Any other day Jungkook would bask in the attention, let you bruise his skin up until he was violet from love.

Today... well.

You were playing a different game.

The hand that had been exploring your nether regions suddenly snaps up, catching your chin between his fingers. The wetness that has coated his digits smears messily across your skin, and you whimper when he squishes your cheeks beneath his fingers.

“No ‘please’?” he huffs, turning your head to meet his eyes.

Dark chocolate eyes you’ve come to associate with love and adoration stare back at you unimpressed. His pronounced brow bone twitches, like he’s holding the true intensity of his glare back for your own sake. He slots his mouth against yours with no warning, tongue pushing its way past your lips. It’s messy, his tongue licking into your mouth like you’re nothing but a lollipop for him to suck on. It pulls a surprised moan from your lips that he swallows quickly enough, biting down on your lower lip harshly. When he pulls away, he’s got that same bored look on his face. You feel small under such a cold look, shoulders scrunching up damn near your ears in a subtle attempt to hide from him.

The action makes Jungkook scoff as he leans away from you. He leaves you on his lap alone, like a tiny island desperate to join the main land. You shuffle around in a hurry, looping your arms around his neck in a last ditch effort to calm him down. It does nothing for Jungkook, who only prods his tongue along his cheek as he regards you with a calculating gaze.

After a moment, he finally says, “on your knees.”

Your heart falls out of your chest. “Huh?” you whisper hoarsely, wide eyes taking in his unimpressed expression. “Knees? But Daddy,” you whine, lower lip quivering as you glance down at the hardwood floor.

Anywhere else you wouldn’t have minded. In fact, anywhere else you would’ve been on the floor before the sentence even left his mouth. You loved sucking his dick almost as much as he loved eating you out. However your knees were embarrassingly frail against hard flooring, which is why most blowjobs had been administered in the comfort of his bed or the couch. Sometimes on carpeted surfaces, but Jungkook never pushed when he knew you would be aching the whole time.

Which is why his current demand has you standing stiff. “O-On the floor?” you murmur.

The stark truth was that Jungkook had you terribly spoiled. His constant pampering had convinced you you were invincible. His love was practically handed to you on a silver plate, cloth napkin folded like a crane beside it. He had never made you do something you didn’t like, and he had never put you in an uncomfortable position, mentally or physically.

Until now.

Jungkook gestures for the ground with a curt nod. “Is there a problem?” he inquires.

You look back again, eye the dark wood planks beneath you, glossed over enough to make them shine even in this weak light. “No,” you belatedly respond, slowly pushing yourself off his lap and onto your feet. Your big shirt falls back down, covers the tops of your thighs as you stand nude from the waist down. You’re tempted to just yank it down even more, hide beneath the cloth so he doesn’t have to see you whine and bitch about your knees aching.

Jungkook was so cool. He was so suave and composed. He was the opposite of you, which is why the two of you meshed so well together. You’ve thought about it about ten times tonight, but it was true. Despite all that, there were times his mature exterior made you feel small— small and silly. Like now, with him sitting against the sofa, dark eyes tracing up your legs in amusement.

You sink to the ground, very pointedly avoiding his gaze. The wooden slats are cold and hard beneath your knees, your kneecap immediately screaming in discomfort. Jungkook leans forward with his elbows on his knees, messy curls covering half of his face. “You know,” he hums, reaching out to trail his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I kinda like having you like this,” he admits, “below me like the good little girl you are.”

Your breath stutters as it leaves your lungs, fidgeting hands tugging at the front hem of your shirt in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up. Jungkook smirks at the movement, eventually retracting his hand to give you one, condescending pat on the head.

A hearty sigh escapes his lips as he settles back onto the couch cushions. “Keep me entertained, will you?” You gawk, but you know it’s not a question. He reaches over for the remote to turn the volume up on the Barbie movie.

Your favorite song on the entire soundtrack is playing, almost mocking you as you shuffle closer to him. Two hands tentatively placed on his thighs as the two animated maidens flounce around the screen. He doesn’t bat a single lash your way, eyes focused on the huge screen behind you instead.

His sweatpants give away easily, elastic band snapping away from hips. You have to fight that and his boxers down, Jungkook sitting like an immovable boulder in front of you. You barely manage to free his cock— the same jumbo cock you had referred to earlier —and it almost slaps you across the face from the force of its recoil. Your breath catches in your throat, a short-lived squeal as you flinch at the movement.

The sound causes him to look your way, over the bridge of his nose. “Do you mind?” he says scornfully. “I’m trying to watch a movie.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, quickly grasping his cock between your fist.

But apparently you’re doing everything wrong tonight. Jungkook hisses. “Shit— would it kill you to lick it first? Like you’re trying to start a damn fire on my cock,” he mumbles, head lolling back to watch the screen again.

You move in slower this time, careful to lick your palm before trying to grab him. When you do, it’s even more delayed, fingers hesitantly tightening around his swollen member. You’re trying to gauge his reaction, worried eyes flickering up to him every few seconds. Jungkook doesn’t object, craning his neck to the side to crack a joint there. With his clearance you carry on.

The strokes are slow at first, hand barely reaching over his tip like he likes. You’re weirdly anxious you’ll mess up for him, make him look at you with contempt. You suppose it’s because of the game you’re playing that you’re on edge. Usually, Jungkook adheres to your rules, soft as they may be, and he never pushes where you don’t want. Tonight, it’s like you’re a show dog desperate to impress her owner. In short, you were his bitch.

You loved it.

As much as you wanted to be good for him, the mere thought of your normally sweet-hearted boyfriend glaring down at you does something to you, makes your pussy clench.

It’ll haunt you for weeks. The image of such unimpressed eyes leveled your way because you couldn’t handle his dick will stain the insides of your eyelids. Even though he’ll brush it off, kiss you and tell you it’s fine, the inner conceited hoe in you will never let it go, will recall the memory every time your hand is under your panties.

Still, you’re terribly desperate to impress him. He was your other half, your lover, your sweetheart, your goddamn king; he deserved only the best— not some half-assed, scaredy-cat blowjob that would leave him reeling back afterwards.

With that belief and a sticky blob of spit later, you’re pushing him into your throat. It’s the first reaction you get since he’d started feeling you up, a deep, raspy groan straight from the pits of hell, that has you working even harder to swallow his cock down. “That’s it,” he pants, carding his fingers through your hair. “Good girl.”

You positively mewl under the praise, tongue growing heavy in your mouth as you swallow more and more of him down. The hard tip of his cock pulses inside, rubbing against your palate and then your throat. A gag catches in your throat, one you quickly subdue by shifting your hips.

Fuck, he was so big. Just the feeling of his cock brashly rubbing against the corners of your lips has you fantasizing about how he’ll undoubtedly stretch your pussy apart later. You moan, letting your eyes flutter shut as you try to wave those images away.

When his cock hits the back of your throat, you’re ten chapters deep into an erotic novel all about sucking Jungkook‘s dick. If your eyes weren’t already shut you’re certain they’d be at the back of your head anyway. It twitches against your tongue, one thick bead of precum sliding down your throat.

It seems to be the final straw for Jungkook, who clamps a hand down on the back of your head, forcefully pulling you away only to shove you down again. With his grip in your hair, he really goes to town. You whimper at his brutal movements, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every harsh tug of your hair. The slippery, wet glide of his cock against your mouth fills the room with a lewd squelching that drowns out the movie.

Your pussy quivers with each new intrusion, thighs pressing together as if that will quell the searing ache between them. It doesn’t, and when Jungkook finally bursts in your mouth, creamy cum splattering against your tongue and lips, it only grows.

“Fuck,” he growls, pushing you away as he sinks back into the cushions. His chest heaves beneath the material of his t-shirt, sweat dripping down from his hairline. Normally, you’d take this opportunity to crawl back onto his lap, lick and kiss away at his body while he recovered. But truthfully, you were both still new to this whole experience so there were still the occasional lulls between actions.

Sensing your uncertainty, Jungkook tugs you onto his lap. He presses one soft kiss against your cheek, eyes momentarily losing their hard edge to assure you everything is fine. You give him a tiny nod, as if assuring him you’re okay. He presses his mouth to yours, plush lips soothing over your raw lips. It’s brief, the kiss; he guides you through it but switches back quickly. He pulls away and bites down harshly on the side of your neck. “So perfect for me, pretty girl,” he murmurs, soothing his bite over with a swipe of his tongue.

You dissolve into a mushy puddle on his lap, muscles growing weak from his touch. Jungkook kisses down your neck, over your t-shirt clad chest, before he’s nudging you back down onto the cushions. With him looming over you, your body instinctively has you spreading your legs apart. His t-shirt comes up with one yank over his shoulders, sinewy muscles coming into view.

“Yum,” you whisper, hands reaching up to trail over his v-line. They’re quickly slapped away, a startled gasp pulled from your lips as Jungkook takes your wrists in his hands.

One shapely brow is raised in your direction. “Did I say you could touch?” he murmurs, pinning your hands above your head. A gasp catches in your throat from his close proximity. You subconsciously tilt your head up, try to brush your mouth against his, only to be denied with a subtle turn of his face. “How do you want it, pretty?” he asks, releasing the tight grip around your wrists.

Immediately, you latch around his broad shoulders, fingers tracing over the muscles of his arms until they meet at the base of his neck. “However you want,” you purr, pulling him closer until your bodies are aligned, the warm heat of his frame over yours. You kiss the spot beneath his ear once before he trails his lips down.

Jungkook mouths against your shoulder, lips tracing over the juncture where it meets your neck. “Hm,” he hums, taking a tiny sliver of skin between his teeth. “And if I said I wanted it hard?”

His proposal is followed by a slow roll of his hips against your throbbing core, the same dick you had just choked on gliding along your folds. You whimper, toes curling as the pleasure washes over you. Every ridge, ever vein of his hardened cock runs along your sensitive folds, reminding you of the aching flame inside of you. “Th-That’s fine,” you pant, leg lazily thrown over his hip. His hands trail over your waist, collecting your t-shirt as they move up your body until it’s pushed over the swell of your breasts.

When the material is finally discarded off to the side, leaving you in that flimsy bra Jungkook that snaps off, he strikes again. His tongue laps over your collarbone first, pouty lips ghosting over the skin as he makes his way to your breast. He takes one hardened peak into his mouth, drawing a shaky inhale from you. He rolls it between his teeth, tongue flicking the sensitive nub as you squirm beneath him.

Eventually he pulls away with a wet pop. Jungkook smirks, a soft puff of air fanning over your newly bruised skin. “Aren’t you the prettiest little thing.” He pushes away from you with one strong arm, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Watch the movie,” he says.

You blink. “Huh?”

Before you know it, he’s tugging you back up onto your feet. He pushes you around, nearly sends you toppling over the coffee table as he positions you to his liking. “Kook!” you exclaim, palms slapping down against the glass tabletop in an effort to catch yourself. Just barely, your reflection glares back up at you.

A tap against your pussy startles you from the sight. “Wha—“

Two hands grab onto your biceps, tugging you up forcefully until your back arches, leaving you bent at a ninety degree angle before him. “Look, sweetheart,” he coos against your ear, voice deep enough that it vibrates through every bone in your body. Your breath stutters in your throat, exhilaration blossoming in your chest. “It’s your favorite movie.”

It is in fact your favorite movie, the same one you had fought tooth and nail just moments prior to watch. On screen, the two damsels are exploring new things in their lives, just how you were experiencing Jungkook’s true intensity for the first time. “It is,” you quietly confirm, back aching from the position.

Jungkook either doesn’t care about your depleting strength or really trusts in you not to faceplant onto his glass coffee table, palms sliding down to the crease of your elbows to hold you. “Tell me what it’s about,” he says

Just as the words leave his mouth, something hard and wet prods against your folds. “Oh,” you cry, fists tightening into balls as the feeling overwhelms you. “Jungkook, please.”

One elbow is let go, and the abrupt release has you scrambling to catch yourself, your glass reflection coming a little too close. This becomes even more difficult when a hand suddenly strikes down hard against your ass, a startled yelp escaping you. Just as quickly as you were released, Jungkook wastes no time snatching your back up, yanking you back until your cunt runs along his cock again.

“C’mon, pretty, thought you knew better,” he sighs playfully.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, chest heaving with every slow roll of his hips. Your pussy was sopping, desperate to be filled with something. It was even worse knowing his dick was right there, just inches outside of where you need him most. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you repeat.

Jungkook chuckles, and your heart backflips when he finally begins lining himself up. “It’s okay,” he assures you, in that same gentle tone he uses when you accidentally shove the wrong food down the sink disposal. “Baby’s still learning,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss against your shoulder as he begins pushing himself in. Just the head of his cock proves to be a struggle, swollen tip stretching your entrance wide. There’s an extra sting today from your half-hearted preparation, the both of you relying solely on your own arousal and excitement to let him in. It’s a nice kick.

When he finally pops past that initial tightness, you swear you could transcend into another dimension from the absolute feeling of euphoria that washes over you. “Fuck,” you mewl, fighting against his tight hold. Your efforts are in vain, ultimately choosing to drop your head down as the ecstasy continues to wash over you with each inch he offers you.

A warning squeeze around your wrist. “Language,” Jungkook reprimands, though his voice is strained and light.

You nod mindlessly, toes curling against the wooden floor. “It-It feels so good,” you whine. Your knees wobble dangerously beneath you, until you’re swaying just the slightest bit.

He gives until there’s nothing left, the soft hairs around his dick tickling your lips as he reaches the hilt. “There we go,” he grunts, giving you one final tug to make sure this is as far as he can go. You squeal, the brush against your walls making you ridiculously high. “That’s my girl.”

The praise has your stomach tightening, the pretty images flashing across the screen completely lost on you. You felt so full. The two of you rarely did it like this, without looking at each other straight on, but there was something about Jungkook’s looming figure being distorted by your brain’s memory, his touches wild and unpredictable, that made something inside of you twitch.

“Ohhh,” you whimper, muscles going slack for the briefest moment. The only thing that saves you from falling over is the killer grip on your forearms; when he tugs you up his cock runs along your pulsing walls. “Please, Daddy,” you beg, mouth feeling a thousand times heavier.

“The movie,” he repeats, slowly beginning to pull away from your clenching heat. You moan. “Tell me what it’s about,” he husks, punctuating his seemingly innocent statement with a harsh snap of his hips.

You wail, stumbling forward at the intensity. Still, it’s just a taste of what he has in store for you. He soon picks a pace, not too rushed or slow, as you struggle to keep your eyes open. “I-I don’t know,” you choke out, the images flashing across the gigantic screen practically unrecognizable to your muddled thoughts.

Behind you Jungkook tuts at your incompetence, thrusting forward with an intensity that would have sent you flying if not for the grip he has on you. “You don’t know?” he huffs, tugging your elbows back again as if to secure his grip on you.

His hips are moving fast now, every piston into your warm heat making you tremble. “Fffuck,” you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues ramming his cock into your pulsing hole. You’re met with a harsh yank that pulls you snugly onto his cock, your entire body screaming at the way he nudges against your cervix. Despite the pleasure it gives you, Jungkook seems anything but pleased.

“C’mon,” he huffs, twisting your arms painfully behind your back. “What did we say about that dirty mouth?” His question is followed with a snap of his hips that makes you choke on your spit. “Need you to be good for me, baby,” he groans.

“I-I am good,” you weakly defend, head hanging down limply as you fight to regain some semblance of your senses. But everything feels too much, from the rough push of his hips to the tight grip on your arms. His cock pulls out nearly all the way each time, swollen tip the only thing stopping him. Every thrust makes you quiver, every touch makes you melt.

You suppose he’d been too lenient on you up until now, and that final claim makes him snap. Jungkook scoffs, ramming his dick inside of you. “You’re being fucking terrible right now, doll,” he admits, hammering into you like a crazed man. You sob, the coil in your belly tightening with every brutal shove of his cock. It’s something about the way his composure withers away, all sweetness melting off as he thrusts into your cunt. “I’ve asked you twice now what the damn movie was about, and you didn’t answer either time.”

A hand clamps around your throat suddenly, yanking you up right until his breath fans across your ear. You’re not sure when your eyes had become so teary, but the images flickering across the screen are a foggy mess you couldn’t decipher even if you tried. “__,” he rasps against your ear, his voice scratchy. “Tell me. Now.”

You whimper as he shoves his way back inside, the angry head of his cock testing you. “T-Two girls, one’s a princess,” you cry, knees wobbling as the feeling in your core grows. “They look alike, and-and…”

“And?” Jungkook asks as you trail off, his words followed by a particularly brutal surge of his hips. His cock glides against your walls easily despite the way you clench around him.

“A-And they have problems they wanna avoid,” you stammer, the plot slipping in and out of your mind with every roll of his cock into your core. “So-so they swap places.”

Behind you, Jungkook snorts. “What a stupid fucking movie,” he says meanly, before he begins to piston his cock into you. You’re trembling by now, your orgasm looming over your head with each thrust.

Before you can warn him, the thin string holding you together snaps, the sudden flood of relief making your knees buck dangerously. Jungkook barely has enough time to catch you around the waist, holding you against him as a litany of curses and his name come spewing out of your mouth. “No, no,” you wail, your entire body twitching as the orgasm rolls over you. “Kook— Jungkook!”

“I’ve got you,” he reassures you, fingers holding you tight around the waist. The coffee table you had feared cracking your skull on finally comes to use as you press your hands onto the surface in a feeble attempt to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, faintly aware of the rock hard cock between your pulsing walls, probably drenched in your cum now. “I-I didn’t—“

He shushes you quickly, settling the two of you back onto the couch. Funnily enough, he doesn’t bother pulling you off of him, his dick snug inside your cunt as he seats you on his lap. “You’re alright, sweetheart,” he comforts, hands soothingly running up your sides. You want to protest, want to get back on your knees and give him another chance to cum all over your face, but Jungkook nudges your chin with a knuckle. “Watch your movie,” he croons.

The Princess and the Pauper is literally the last thing on your mind right now; didn’t he realize how much you wanted to please him? Why was he choosing now to be so stubborn? Oh, that Jeon Jungkook, maybe Doyeon was right to call him an airhead.

Your slander campaign against your boyfriend is cut short when a hand flutters over your mound, thumb idly tracing over your sensitive clit. Before you can turn and look at him, Jungkook is rutting his hips against you slowly. “The screen, baby,” he says, and you want to argue that you can’t possibly enjoy a movie with him being so sneaky beneath you. The words get washed away when he presses down on your clit.

“Koo— Daddy,” you whine, lower lips still trembling from the orgasm you had two minutes ago. Jungkook responds with a kiss against your shoulder, hands trailing around your waist.

“No more of that,” he mumbles as he begins bouncing you on his cock. You moan, every inhale cut short by the shallow thrusts of his cock into your delicate walls. “Just your Kook now.”

“My… Kook,” you pant dreamily. Your cum provides an even better lubricant than before, lewd squelches filling the area alongside your cries as Jungkook chases both your second orgasms.

“Mhmm,” he groans, jostling you over his lap with no rhythm whatsoever. “Yours, baby.” You stretch your hands back, carding one set of fingers through the hair above his ear, pushing the strands away from his face. “Just like you’re mine.”

Something inside of you tightens painfully, and you’re not sure if it’s your heart or your pussy. You guess it’s both, as you stutter out, “y-your pretty girl?” Jungkook hums in agreement, repeating your favorite nickname back to you. The rest of your words die out between the two of you, lost in the slow and soft movements that fill in. You want to tell him you love him, adore him like no other, but every breath of air is stolen away by him.

Eventually the two of your are cumming, your second orgasms much quieter and slower compared to your first. You still mewl, wither against him when you cream his cock, and Jungkook catches you all the same. He guides you through the fog with kisses against your jaw, your dripping pussy helping him through his own.

When all is said and done and you’re both basking in a post-orgasmic make-out, you realize how sweaty and icky you are. “Ugh, this is gross,” you pout as he wiggles you off his lap. He pushes you beside him, letting you flop over the length of the couch as he reaches for something to clean you up with.

“You’re gross,” he retorts softly, blinking in that slow, drawn out way he does when you know he’s sleepy. His t-shirt runs along your neck, collecting the sweat there.

You nudge him with your foot. “I’m not the one who wanted to fuck during a Barbie movie,” you scoff, pinching the skin on his forearm when his gaze lingers a second too long on your creamy pussy. “Look somewhere else, weirdo.”

Jungkook laughs quietly, looking at you with an adoring expression on his face. He doesn’t even finish cleaning you off, tossing the soiled shirt somewhere off to the side in favor of cuddling into you. “Where? My Jumbotron?” he teases, raining down a parade of kisses against your face. “Don't wanna,” he smiles, too soft and boyish for the words that leave his lips next. “Wanna lick your pretty pussy clean.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” you scold, covering your face with your palms in embarrassment. “Look at your stupid IMAX screen and leave me alone.”

He cackles loudly now, in that evil witch way it took him a while to show you, and you know he’s got that big silly grin on his face now. . “The IMAX screen? The same one that made you,” a pause, “climax?”

“Get off of me.”

——

Just as you predicted, Jungkook’s mom gives him the scolding of a lifetime when she drops by the next weekend. The poor woman nearly faints at the theater screen on the wall, only to quickly regain herself. You giggle from your spot on the couch as she whacks his stupidly ripped bicep with the leek you’re supposed to chop up for dinner later.

What you’re not expecting is for her anger to shift to you as she scolds you for letting her idiotic son make such purchases. She gets one playful thwack against your side with the leek before your charming idiotic boyfriend swoops in to save you.

——

#goldenclosetnet #ksmutclub #networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #mine

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strawberryerwin · 2 years

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erwin smith x reader bakery/library au, post-war/non-canon (part 2)

part 1 | part 3 | part 4

cw; none here that i know of but pls message me if so, afab!reader

the man in the ground floor apartment didn't have a formal occupation anymore, and as such he didn't have a routine either. however, he worked as he pleased at the local library, two streets away from his apartment. he spent a few hours a day, pushing the wooden cart around, re-shelving books and occasionally creating a display of books at the front desk.

you knew of him, but not as the man from the ground floor apartment or the library worker. you knew him as one of your regulars. in fact, he probably frequented Honey Bear's more than anyone else.

but you also knew him as the man with one arm. the first day he came in, you turned around and smiled, your expression faltering at the sight of his long sleeve dangling at his side. you hoped he didn't notice before you cleared your throat and asked if he'd like for you to tell him about what you have to offer today. you didn't have to ask any questions, because that sight was all you needed to know that the man had probably seen things you couldn't have dreamed of. for days after that first encounter, your heart ached for the man. the third time he came in was the first time Eric, another one of your employees, saw the one armed man.

"miss, do you think he-?"

"yes, Eric. I think that man has seen some things we haven't. i don't want to talk about it.", you answered quietly. "it's rude."

he was always there on days when your star ingredient of a special item was strawberries. he always came for at least one of Madeline's crepes. sometimes, he was the first customer who got the warmest, freshest muffin you had to offer. other times, he came in just as you were about to pull your chalkboard sign inside and lock the doors. on those days, you would reach behind the counter and simply give him the paper bag of goodies meant for the printing press workers that you waved to every evening, as you were getting home and they were leaving work.

"a gift, for my most loyal customer", you'd say with a warm smile. he would thank you and wink as he took the bag from your hands. he never said much. you didn't even know his name.

on a warm Saturday spring evening, you had sold out of everything you had to offer for the day. you sent Eric and Madeline home and thanked them for such a smooth day, wishing them a pleasant couple of off-days to follow.

the one-armed man had, as expected, visited that morning for a crepe. he was the first customer. he watched intently as you counted his change back to him. not for you to make a mistake, but because he enjoyed the familiarity of you. the two of you weren't friendly. he didn't know you at all, but you were familiar because he saw you several times a week, and every time, you wore the same precious smile. the only person he saw more than you was the librarian. he slipped some coins into your tip jar and nodded his appreciation when you handed him his plate. you thanked him for his patronage before taking the next customer's order.

when you went outside to retrieve your chalkboard sign, it was a struggle as usual. the wind swung the door closed. you looked behind yourself and scoffed, slightly irritated that now you would not only have to wrestle your sign inside, but now you'd have to balance it in your arms while trying to open the door for yourself. you wished you would have had Eric and Madeline help you bring it in earlier.

from across the street, your favorite customer watched as you heaved the sign up. he jogged lightly over to your side of the street.

"can I help you with that?", he asked.

you weren't sure how he'd help. "ah, uhm... I think I've got it!", you stammered out. you didn't want to embarrass him. you weren't expecting to see him, either, since he had been in this morning.

"o, please. let me help. you grab the door.", he stated bluntly, picking your heavy sign up with one hand and nodding towards the door. you tried not to let the surprise on your face be imminent as you held the door open for him. sitting the sign down in the entryway, he extended his hand out to you. "i don't think i've ever introduced myself. i'm Erwin Smith."

you gently accepted his outstretched hand. "no, i don't think we've ever formally met... i'm Y/N. yhank you for helping me. i didn't think to ask my workers for help before i dismissed them today."

"well, i'm glad you didn't.", he chuckled. "i've been meaning to find a reason to know your name. i hate that i've been coming in for all this time and i don't even know the name of the sweet girl making my treats every day."

you giggled, blushing. "well, i can't take all the credit. i do have a great group working here."

"the younger girl here this morning, she has a real talent. making crepes is no easy feat."

"i'm very proud of her!", you nodded in agreement. "she has really excelled in the kitchen since she started here." you smiled warmly at Erwin, then regretfully informing him that you couldn't repay him for his kindness in leftovers today, as you had sold out.

"oh, no. I don't need any kind of repayment. it was just the right thing to do. however, do you live nearby? could I walk you home?", he asked.

this took you by surprise. "uhm, i actually live about three blocks away."

"oh! that's on my way. i live just two streets over.", he exclaimed.

#erwin x reader #erwin smith x reader #shingeki no kyoujin erwin #attack on titan fic #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfic #aot fanfiction #aot

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goldentournesol · 4 years

Text

Christmas Miracles

(Spencer Reid x fem!Reader)

The one where Spencer and Reader finally get pregnant after 2 years of trying and failing.

Length: 3.2k

A/N: TW pregnancy, thank you for requesting this anon, so sorry this is late, i know you asked for fluff but i added a touch of angst too because: hello, have you met me? also please accept my feeble attempt at a Christmas fic. i sure do hope no one goes through my search history now haha, anyway ENJOY! (sorry if this is crappy) It is officially Christmas where I live so MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY!

masterlist

The click clack of her heels against the tiled floor of the hospital almost seemed too loud. She felt as though her presence was too much, but she had promised Kristy she’d be there. It almost felt unreal. Here she was, celebrating the birth of yet another Simmons baby when not a single Reid had been conceived. It might have been selfish of her to have such thoughts, but she couldn’t help it. Not when the one thing she and her husband had been praying for day and night came so easily to everyone but them.

It’s been two years since their wedding and for two years she’d felt nothing but the impending feeling of failure hanging around her shoulders. All she wanted was to give Spencer what he deserved, she knew how much he wanted kids. He didn’t even have to say it, it was evident in the way he treated Henry, Michael, and all the other children of the BAU.

She’d left her job as soon as Spencer texted her and said she’d meet them at the hospital. She took a deep breath before locating the familiar faces of the BAU in the waiting room.

“Hey!” JJ smiled, racing to hug her first.

“Hi, any news?” Y/N asked, pulling away from the hug and looking for her husband among the faces, smiling in recognition. She spotted him in a chair, adorning a hoodie that was much too large for him with “Washington DC” printed in bold letters across the front.

“No, not yet.” Spencer reached his hand out to her and she stepped towards him, smiling as he stood to embrace her. She pulled back once again and looked at his hoodie in amusement.

“Do I want to know what happened?” She giggled, gesturing towards his outfit. He laughed bashfully.

“I, um, had an...incident with the sprinklers at the park.” She watched as his cheeks turned an adorable shade of pink. She laughed and nodded.

“Alright then.” She took a seat beside him and forced the lump in her throat to break itself apart. But Spencer knew how she felt, of course he knew. Which is why he offered both his hand and shoulder to her as they waited. She gladly accepted both, wishing the heaviness in her chest would dissipate.

About a half hour later, Matt emerged from one of the rooms, announcing the birth of his baby girl. Everyone swarmed around him to give him celebratory hugs, Y/N felt as though someone had to unglue her from her seat. She smiled as wide as her face would allow and hugged him.

“Congratulations!” She exclaimed, trying her hardest not to make it sound forced.

“Thank you, thank you all.” He said, inviting them all into the room, where the wailing of a newborn baby could be heard. To many it could sound annoying, but Y/N was almost desperate to hear it. Before entering, Spencer grabbed her hand gently and stopped them in their tracks, reaching out to cradle both her hands in his.

“You okay? We can leave now if you want, just say you had an emergency at work or something.” He said quietly to her, knowing how it would make her feel if she were to see this baby right now. He never wanted to push her too far. He could see the uncertainty swimming around in her irises, but his wife was never one to back down from anything she’d promised someone else.

“I’ll be fine, Spence. I promised Kristy.” She whispered and he nodded, although he felt something was off in the pit of his stomach. He brushed it off as she pulled him into the room after her. Her eyes landed on Kristy cradling her baby girl and her heart melted at the sight.

“Oh, she’s beautiful, Kristy.” Y/N cooed, momentarily forgetting about the heaviness in her chest as the baby’s tiny eyes curiously wandered over to her.

“Thank you, Y/N. Would you like to hold her first?” Kristy smiled tiredly and everyone’s gaze fell onto Y/N, an unreadable tension silently floating in the room.

“I-I’d be honored.” She let go of Spencer who watched as his wife carefully scooped up the baby into her arms. His heart swallowed his chest from its swelling. He could barely control the softness in his gaze before Matt came up next to him and grabbed his shoulder, making him smile. The way she carried the baby with so much compassion was a sure sign for Spencer, this woman was meant to be a mother. The mother of his children.

Y/N grinned with slight tears in her eyes as she stared at the baby in her arms, “Hi, baby girl. You’re so beautiful.” She cooed softly as she swayed them slowly from side to side. The baby quieted down in her arms and it was a wonderful sight to see. Spencer’s heart was surely beating its last beats.

“Oh, she loves you already.” Emily said from the far side of the room. The comfortable weight of the baby in her arms had suddenly turned into 7.8 pounds of complete and utter dread. She had allowed herself to think that it was her own child for a split second.

What a huge mistake.

A tear escaped Y/N’s eye as she realized she’d have to part with this beautiful gift of life. She forced a smile and handed her back to her mother carefully. No one noticed the shift in Y/N’s mood, too enthralled by the baby, except Spencer, of course. She quickly wiped away the stay tear as she took her place next to Spencer, who had tried to take her hand in his, but she pulled away just in time. He breathed a heavy sigh as she silently fell apart right next to him.

After a few moments of failing to keep herself from falling apart in front of the team, she tugged on his sleeve harshly and he knew he’d have to excuse them. So he did, they said their farewells and were on their way to her car. She handed him the keys silently and avoided his gaze until they were in the car together.

“Sweetheart…” Spencer started, reaching out to caress any part of her, only wanting to provide a semblance of comfort.

“Please--please, don’t, Spencer.” She whimpered softly as she shrunk away from him and into the passenger seat, the tears falling freely now. Spencer frowned deeply and began driving them home in silence.

She wondered if she’d ever have the opportunity to be in Kristy’s shoes. All she wanted, as of right now, was to be a mother. The universe had been so, so unkind to them both throughout their lives. God knows Spencer’s been through hell and back more times than they can count. Despite all that though, Spencer was truly the best support system she could ask for. He never pushed her too far, he always understood her, never made her feel bad for not being able to get pregnant. But that didn’t take away from the way she felt. The way she felt like she was failing Spencer. The one thing her body was made for, and she couldn’t do it.

Spencer walked them both up to their apartment and put on the kettle to make some tea as she disappeared into their bedroom, probably to take a shower. For months and months, they’d been trying, and nothing seemed to work. It was taking a toll on Y/N and he couldn’t help but feel useless.

It went on this way for about a month, although Spencer and Y/N were getting much better about talking about it, as well as beginning to explore other options. Spencer kept convincing Y/N to get out of the house more, he insisted that perhaps time apart and engagement of individual activities would strengthen their relationship. So Penelope suggested a girls night in at least once a week. They would order junk food, watch sappy movies, and sometimes cry about their lives.

One night, all the women and spouses of the BAU were at Penelope’s, watching a movie and munching on crunchy snacks. Y/N suddenly sat up straight and gasped, pausing the movie quickly from the remote.

“What is it?” Tara asked, looking over at Y/N on the couch.

“What day is it?” She asked, slightly panicked.

“It’s...Saturday?” Emily replied.

“No, no! What day of the month?” She exclaimed, searching for her phone in between the couch seats.

“It’s the 12th, why? Is it someone’s birthday?” Penelope asked, confusion settling in.

“The 12th?!” Y/N exclaimed in shock.

“Y/N, what’s on the 12th?” JJ asked impatiently.

“I’m late! I’m 2 weeks late. Let me check first.” Y/N pulled up her phone and checked her period tracking app. The women all glanced at each other excitedly, “I’m late…”

“OKAY! Stay here, do not move. JJ and I will go get you a bunch of tests! Don’t move!” Penelope exclaimed, rushing up to put on a coat over her pajamas and slip on some shoes.

Y/N stood and began to wring her hands nervously.

“What’s wrong, isn’t this great news?” Kristy asked, her face showing concern.

“Yes! Yes, of course. Just...what if it’s n-not real, what if it’s negative? I-I don’t think I can handle that again.” Y/N said as her eyes filled with tears. Her heart seemed to have stilled in her chest and her throat began closing up in response to her anxiety.

“Even if that happens, we’re right here. We’ll be supporting you through it all.” Tara said, standing and hugging her tightly. The second she was in her arms, she began sobbing. The slightest comfort brought waves of fear and anxiety. Emily and Kristy frowned and felt their chests pull at the sight of her being so upset. Tara smoothed down her hair lovingly and convinced her to have a seat until Pen and JJ returned.

A few moments later, they came bursting through the door, “Alright, did you drink enough liquids, do you have to pee?” JJ asked, unpacking and handing her the tests.

“Umm, I don’t know but I’ve been peeing a lot anyway.” Y/N replied and JJ nodded.

“Okay, that’s a good sign.” Kristy nodded encouragingly.

Y/N moved to the bathroom and took the tests. She opened the door slightly and looked towards Penelope, “Can you come in? I-I’m too scared to look at it alone.”

“Of course.” She stepped in and Y/N left the door open for anyone else to come in. Soon they all gathered in or outside of the bathroom. Y/N sat on the closed toilet and wrung her hands nervously, a habit she’d picked up from Spencer. Penelope waited the appropriate amount of time and looked at the tests that were face down on the counter. She looked towards Y/N for approval and she nodded, holding her breath. She wasn’t a profiler but she was trying to read every single microexpression that crossed Penelope’s features. The room was heavy with anticipation as they all watched Penelope look at the tests.

Soon enough, her face broke out into a large grin, “Guess we’re getting a baby genius!” She exclaimed and everyone cheered loudly in response.

Y/N was frozen in shock on the toilet as everyone rushed to embrace her, “W-what?” She uttered in disbelief, tears clouding her vision quickly.

“They’re all positive! A baby Reid is in the oven!” Emily cheered, showing her the tests. She put a hand to her mouth to slow down the sobs escaping her. She hugged them all tightly and she knew, she just knew that this happened thanks to the sheer powerful energy of all the women by her side. The thought gave her goosebumps.

“Oh my God! I have to tell Spencer!” Y/N shouted in the midst of all her tears, just imagining the pure joy that would be on her husband’s face as he learned the news.

“If you leave now, you’ll make it before he gets home from Derek’s.” JJ said, checking her watch. Y/N nodded and raced out with the tests, putting on her shoes quickly.

“I love you all so much! Bye!” She yelled into the room before darting out the door.

She stopped by the grocery store to pick up some buns, an empty box, and a pair of the cutest baby sneakers she could find. As soon as she got home, she filled the box with the sneakers and the positive tests. She also placed a single bun in the oven and waited for Spencer to come home.

“Y/N, you here already? I saw the car parked downstairs--is everything oka--” he cut himself off as he found her in the kitchen holding something behind her back. His eyebrows raised suspiciously as he eyed her, “What’s going on? What are you up to?” He couldn’t resist smiling at her smile, the previous anxieties melting away.

“Check the oven, baby.” She said, leaning against the counter across from it. His brows furrowed even more as he peeked inside.

“I don’t get it. The oven’s not hot and this is likely a store-bought bun.” Spencer Reid, despite being a certified genius, he could be extremely oblivious at times.

“Yes, and where is it placed?” Y/N hinted.

“In the oven?” Spencer reached in and grabbed the bun. He turned around to face her, the bun in his hands.

“Yes, exactly! It’s a bun in the oven.” She laughed, giving up. She watched as his face lit up in realization.

“Wait...what?” Spencer said softly in disbelief, placing the bun down on the counter and taking a few steps towards her.

She grinned and pulled out the box from behind her and opened it up in front of him. He took it from her and inspected the test and the shoes with a dropped jaw, “W-we...you’re--” He laughed a wet laugh and placed his hands on her belly, “We’re gonna have a baby?” His voice cracked, tears clouding his eyes quickly.

“We’re gonna have a baby.” She confirmed and he pulled her into possibly the tightest hug she’d ever received from him. His shoulders began shaking in her arms and soon they were sobbing messes in front of each other. She rested her head on his chest and he kissed it over and over again until they both calmed down.

“I’m gonna be a father.” He finally said, smiling down at her with a dopey, lovesick smile.

She nodded, returning the smile, “The best father. Now come on, let’s have a seat and start planning.” She giggled, pulling him out of the kitchen and to the couch.

“You know, it’s thought that the saying bun in the oven originated in 1951.” He began explaining and she suddenly burst into a fit of fond giggles, hoping their child would get his intelligence and definitely his good looks.

At exactly 10 weeks, Spencer insisted that she get her first ultrasound. She didn’t mind, she just wanted him to be there, and with his hectic schedule, it was hard to find a perfect time to go. But alas, they figured it out and Spencer was practically bouncing on his feet in excitement in the waiting room. Y/N placed a calming hand on his knee and smiled reassuringly. They took turns calming each other down. Even though Spencer had read every book about parenting and children within reach, he still felt so unprepared as a first time parent.

“Mr. and Mrs. Reid? The doctor is ready for you now.” A nurse with a clipboard announced, making Spencer shoot up out of his seat and helped his wife out of hers.

Soon, they made it into the office and before she knew it the doctor had already spread the icy cold gel on Y/N’s growing belly. A steady, repetitive noise could be heard throughout the room, bouncing off the walls. It sounded like an underwater heartbeat with a tad of something sloshing around.

“Oh, do we hear that? That’s the sound of the baby’s heart-Oh! What do we have here?” The doctor announced as she maneuvered her way on top of her belly.

“What is it?” Spencer anxiously asked, peering over at the screen.

“It seems as though there are two amniotic sacs as well as two healthy heartbeats! Congratulations, you’re having twins!” The doctor exclaimed happily. The couple stared at each other in an absolute stunned daze.

“Twins?” Y/N had to make sure she was hearing it correctly.

“Yes, a pair of healthy twins.” The doctor confirmed.

“That’s...th-that’s only a 4% chance. This is amazing!” Spencer uttered, hugging her tightly.

Over the course of the next six months, Spencer and Y/N have been living on the absolute tips of their toes. Y/N was extremely clingy at times and Spencer was terrified of leaving her, should he be called in for a case. As the twins’ due date nears, Spencer turns into a shell of himself and instead a home for festering anxiety and fear. He’s terrified something might go wrong. Whereas Y/N could not wait for the babies to be out of her! The day couldn’t come sooner.

Thankfully, serial killers all over the country had decided to take a break for Christmas time. Spencer, Y/N, and her belly were invited to every gathering leading up to Christmas eve. She wished she wouldn’t have to waddle along for much longer.

As the two sat in peaceful silence, listening to instrumental versions of their favorite Christmas music and munching on gingerbread men, something felt off.

“Uhhh, Spence?”

“What is it, sweetheart?” Spencer asked, sitting up, failing to notice the large pool of liquid now under his wife soaking the couch.

“My water just broke.” She announced, feeling her breath quicken.

“Oh-OH!” Spencer shot up from the couch and quickly grabbed the hospital go bag that’s been living by the door for the past few weeks. He put on a pair of shoes for her and carefully helped her off the couch.

“Spencer, it’s Christmas eve, we’ll never find a place in the hospital!” Y/N panicked slightly as she waddled to the door, trying to control her breathing.

“Shh, baby don’t worry about that right now. I just need you to do the breathing exercises we practiced so much, okay?” He said calmly, doing her breathing exercises, prompting her to imitate him. He surprised her by being so calm and composed all the way to the hospital then she remembered he’d once told her that he finds he does his best work under intense pressure.

20 grueling hours later, two beautiful baby girl Reids were born into this world on Christmas day. It truly was a Christmas miracle. The team filed in on Christmas day to find one exhausted Spencer standing and an even more exhausted Y/N on the bed, each cradling a baby girl of their own.

“Oh my, oh, they’re so beautiful.” Penelope gushed, her and JJ leaning over Y/N’s bed to peer at one of the girls. Luke, Tara, and Emily walked towards Spencer, who could not stop grinning.

Seriously, his face should have been split in half at this point from how much he’d been smiling. There was no one else in this world he’d rather have a child with, and he was blessed with not one, but two enchanting Christmas miracles who will surely steal his heart and never return it, and he’ll be more than okay with that.

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uwuwriting · 4 years

Text

Dabi, Todoroki and Bakugou small things

Request: hii i was wondering if you could do soft lil things they do for their s/o headcanons for dabi todoroki and bakugou ? your writing is amazing - anonymous

Small affectionate actions from our angsty boysss. Love ya. 💖💖💖

rules

masterlist

warnings: fluff

Dabi

-He isn’t big for words.

-He worries that he won’t be able to turn off the salty part of himself and will hurt you or make you angry.

-So he prefers doing small gestures of affection.

-Don’t expect them too often though because he still has to uphold his tough guy reputation.

-Even with you.

-These actions stay always behind closed doors.

-The only gesture that he may allow outside of your shared room is a hand squeeze when you are nervous or getting angry.

-Now, this man knows that he can go overboard during your shared nights.

-And by shared nights NO I don’t mean cuddling.

-He knows he is rough and he can see how sore you’ll be even before you wake up.

-He is usually out the door on those mornings before you wake up, searching for breakfast.

-He’ll leave a small note telling you to stay in bed and he’ll take care of food for the morning.

-He brings a hot pad along with your pancakes so he can massage your sore muscles while you eat.

-Gets them just the way you like them.

-When you work overtime for your normal non-villain-infested morning job and you are absolutely exhausted he’ll carry you to bed.

-Runs you a warm bath before leaving the room so you can have some me time.

-Leaves many of his clothes behind when you are on your period.

-He knows how much you love his scent and he feels bad that he can’t be with you all the time.

-After a long mission he’ll run you a bath before going back to yalls room and tidying up a bit, preparing for a movie-cuddle night.

-The last small gesture that he tends to do is while you are nervous or semi panicking.

-Even when you are mad.

-Mad you is scary, no one really approaches you.

-Except from him.

-Since your relationship is secret he can’t go right up to you and hold your hand to ground you so he just waits until you are sitting down or no one’s looking so he can sneak his hand in yours.

-His fingers intertwine with yours and he squeezes until you are calm enough to talk to someone without lashing out.

-It’s a surprise no one has connected the dots by now.

-I mean he is the only one who can calm you down, of course you two have something going on.

Todoroki Shouto

-He doesn’t really do anything until he sees Natsuo leaving small sticky notes for his girlfriend when she spent the night at their place.

-He saw how happy she was when she found the piece of paper and was curious.

-Natsuo explained everything to him because baby boy was so confused.

- “You don’t always have to tell her you love her. I’m not good with words so small gestures are my go to plan.”

-Now he can’t wait to try it with you.

-When you come back from a hard training session, he leaves a small package full of snacks and your favorite drinks.

-After your shower you invite him over and cuddle while eating his snack gift.

-It’s common for you two to spend the night at each others dorms so he adopts Natsuo’s method and leaves you sticky notes everywhere.

-You find like 7 until you’re out the door.

-All of them have cute little messages making you a blushing mess and that’s how you go on a mad hunt for your boyfriend.

-He shall pay for this uncontrollable cuteness with a kissing shower.

-During lunch he’ll buy a larger portion of soba because he knows how much you like stealing his food.

-He’ll act all nonchalant, claiming that the lunch ladies like him so much that they gave him more food.

-If you’re having a bad day, he’ll write multiple notes telling you how amazing you are.

-How lucky he is to be the one loving you.

-He buys copies of your favorite movies and makes a bundle to give it to you after a rough week at your hero studies.

-You have a box full of photos you two took.

-He prints them and slides one under your door every Saturday right before you leave for your hero studies.

-You have the photo with you for the rest of the day and it gives you immense comfort.

-He knows how much you love having photos of your dates and you get super stressed while on patrol, so he provides some comfort even though he isn’t with you.

-Much like Dabi he’s there and the only one who can calm you down.

-Unlike Dabi though, he can hold you whenever he likes.

-You’ll feel an arm snake around your waist, palm resting on your hip and giving it a small squeeze.

-He’ll pull you closer to his side or backwards to his chest, his warmth (or cold) relaxing you just a tiny bit.

-His presence alone relaxes you.

-He has that affect on people.

Bakugou Katsuki

-He can’t express himself easily.

-That’s old news at this point.

-All of his emotions result in anger and he always starts yelling after a while.

-So he knows that he can be a handful.

-And that he doesn’t show you how much he loves you that often.

-He can see you holding back your excitement or affection at times because you don’t want to make him mad.

-It breaks his heart into a million pieces.

-So he just lets his actions speak for him.

-Without question he’ll just cuddle you when you are having a bad day, pulling you flush to his chest and kissing your cheek while smoothing out your tangled hair.

-It’s his way of comfort.

-He’ll massage your shoulder, kneading the tension out of them as you relax back into him.

-Kisses kisses kisses.

-On your cheek, forehead, nose, lips, jaw, knuckles, everywhere.

-He leaves his hoodies behind all the time.

-He loves finding you in his clothes, basically swimming in them since it’s twice maybe thrice your size.

-Knows that brings your comfort so he can’t just let his baby feeling lonely when he can do something about it.

-He isn’t much of a note guy so don’t expect sticky notes like the other two.

-On the contrary he relies more on touch.

-Linking your pinkies as you walk to class.

-Nudging you with his nose when you’re dosing off next to him.

-An arm around your waist when you have exhausted your quirk.

-Takes really good care of you while on your period.

-Snacks, drinks, cuddles, movies whatever you want is yours.

-When you get made he just places a hand on your lower back, steadying you and reminding you to breathe.

-His way of saying I love you is kissing the inside of your wrist.

-You may have your hand in his and he’ll raise it to his lips and leave a lingering kiss.

-But his favorite time to do this is when you have placed your palm on his cheek.

-He just turns his lips to your wrist and kisses the spot, leaving you in a state of shock and you become a flustered mess.

-He’s smooth like that.

TAG TEAM AY:

@iwaqchan @the-arcana-fan-fic @angelwritings @axerrri @reinyrei @dnarez

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roscgcld · 3 years

Note

Sorry if I'm being annoying, my friends doesn't message me anymore:(

BUT Gojo and the others setting up dear yuta and dd!r in a date?!

They would just pretend to hang out but they actually planned it, so when yuta got the idea on what they are doing, he called gojo on what they are planning. Let me set the scene here-

It was Saturday and Gojo had the idea to set yuta and y/n on a date, operation: Love nest. (I did google the meaning and it says "a place where two lovers spend time together, especially in secret." So let's go with it-) He had informed the others and agreed to the plan.

So he called yuta and y/n to ask them if they are willing to join to go out and have fun with the others which they agreed to meet up at the park.

As the two arrived at the park, they waited for about 15 minutes for them to arrive, yuta knew that Gojo can be late sometimes but it's so unlike for his classmates and his kyohai to be late as well so he decided to call Gojo in which he picked up immediately.

"Gojo sensei, where are you? The others haven't arrived as well, did something happened?" Yuta asked as he felt a tap on his shoulder to see y/n mouthing; 'is that Gojo sensei?', He nodded but his face suddenly turned confused when he heard the older man laughed at the other line.

"Ah, sorry yuta-kun for laughing all of the sudden, anyways enjoy your date with y/n-chan~" Gojo hangs up before yuta can respond, his cheek was painted with a pink tint color. He breathes, gaining composure as he turned around meeting y/n's gaze making his ears go pink a bit.

"what did Gojo sensei said?"

"W-well Gojo Sensei said he can't make it along with the others" he tried his best to not stutter in which he automatically failed.

"I was hoping to spend time with them, we kinda have been busy recently..." she smiled looking away for a moment but looked back at the boy with a brighter smile.

"But I get to spend time with you! You've been in overseas too much" she pouted and he can't help but give y/n a small laugh. She was right, he has been send to go overseas more often, he finally had a break to spend time with his fellow classmates.

"So I'm gonna take advantage of this opportunity to spend time with you! You need to take breaks" she added.

"alright, well what do you want to do?" He asked giving y/n the opportunity to choose on how the day will go.

"let's eat first! I really want to try cafe I've been eyeing recently."

After they finished visiting the cafe, they went to the mall to look around for a bit before they go back in Jujutsu high. y/n suddenly a cute keychain that reminded her of herself, without yuta knowing, she bought the keychain to gift it to him later.

They decided to walk around on the park a bit and y/n took this opportunity to give the keychain to him.

"Yuta-kun-"

"Y/n-"

They both said each other's name at the same time causing yuta to get flustered a bit but replaced with laughter as he heard y/n laughing.

"You say it first" yuta said.

"Well, I wanna give you something!"

"I was gonna give you something too"

Y/n can't help but giggle by the same idea they had.

"Let's give it to each other at the same time in..."

They both showed the item at the same time revealing both keychain that reminded them of themselves. The two couldn't help but laugh at the same idea of giving each other keychains.

"When did you buy that?" Yuta asked as he slowly out his hand on his nape.

"when you were distracted, I wanted to gift you this so that you have a remembrance of me!" She smiled making his face blush a bit as they give their keychains.

"Thank you Y/n, I'll take care of it"

"Me too"

They started to head back when y/n suddenly stopped walking making yuta turn around seeing y/n thinking with her hand on her chin, she suddenly lifted her head like she finally knew what she was trying to remember something she forgot.

"it's like we're having a date" she said happily continuing to walk eventually passing yuta as for him... He was taken back from her words and his face was so red he looked like a tomato ready to explode.

"Yuta-kun, are you alright? Your really red."

"I-I'm fine, let's go back, Gojo sensei might be worried we haven't come back" he gave her a reassuring smile as y/n agreed and start heading back again.

When they arrived, y/n said her goodbye to yuta as she skipped making her way towards her dorm room leaving yuta processing what happened.

"You know, you wasted your opportunity yuta-kun" a familiar voice was made making him jump a bit as he turned around to see his sensei and the others.

"W-were you guys following us the w-whole time?"

"I'm surprised you didn't spotted us" maki said.

"Now, why didn't you take that opportunity!?" Gojo whined shaking yuta making him dizzy.

"I-it was just so sudden" he replied making gojo let go of the young man.

"at least you got something from her~" Gojo teased making yuta flustered as he walks away from the group.

"I'm sure he has his own time" Megumi suddenly butt in, "Salmon" inumaki agrees.

So they let mr. Lover boy choose when is the right time

Ajskdjdji I JUST MADE THIS UP AS I GO WITH IT! HAHSHS the idea of Gojo and the others setting yuta and dd!r is so funny why didn't I thought of that before XD

- ☕

.....gojo satoru setting a date up for the two of them? i- 💥💥💥💳💥💥💳

and is okey babes - same here lmao. but we can geek out togehter-

stop giving me ideas to write - i want to write this but i also have so much shit i need to do pfft.

ALSO TO ADD TO THIS- daydreamiong!reader dragging yuta into those photo boots where you can take pictures and decorate them before printing them? And her deciding to make those cute resin keychains with pictures in them to gift to Yuta before he leaves for another trip? And she is the one who loops the keychain on his weapons bag next to the cute keychain she got in?

idk if you have those photo boots overseas, but they are all over places in asia and I love to take pictures in them and decorate them with friends lmaoooo

Also Y/N will probably cling onto him the entire time because that's what she does and everyone will just assume they are dating from the outside cx but the rest of the students and Gojo are like,

"OH MY GOD JUST K I SS ALREADY!"

#daydreaming!reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #okkotsu yuuta #okkotsu yuta #yuta okkotsu #yuuta okkotsu #yuuta x reader #yuta x reader #okkotsu x reader #okkotsu x you

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allthingsfuckd · 3 years

Text

soft spot | Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

summary: Bucky, the diner owner pining for the reader, a regular at the diner and best friend, for years.

a/n: i wanted to post a Peter Parker fic but i had writer's block until i came to this idea. it's based on a few of my fav Luke and Lorelai moments from Gilmore Girls combined into this one fic. i hope you enjoy! as usual, feedback is very much appreciated and my requests are open. (you don't need to watch Gilmore Girls to understand it)

warning(s): fluff, teen pregnancy, absent father, pining.

“Coffee, coffee, coffee, coffee,” you repeated, your chest pressed against the counter, an evil smile on your face. He turned to face you and placed his hands on the counter, the chanting stopped. You purse your lips trying to contain your smile.

“You know it ruins your body, slowly corrodes your insides, and makes you die really really young, right?” he says squinting at you as he makes hand gestures.

“That’s the intention,” you say smiling up at him showing your teeth. You both stayed like that for a few seconds until he turned around, grabbed a mug, and the kettle from the coffee machine. Still squinting at you, he poured the coffee in the mug and slid it over the counter to you.

“I really hope it’s soon,” he grumbles, throwing the kitchen towel on his shoulders, and walks (or stomps) back to the kitchen. You sat there, coffee in your hands, smiling as you took a sip.

The door rings open and you hear a familiar voice. “Did you get one for me?” you turned in your bar stool to look at the figure that walked up to you. The beautiful girl who you delightfully brought into the world almost 16 years ago, Leah.

You shook your head, fake-pouting. A grumble came from the teen, something you could very much relate to; caffeine deficiency. “I tried, I tried but Bucky’s in his element this morning,” you shrugged your shoulders, stretching to the left to see if he was still in the kitchen.

“I’m gonna get one myself. He likes me,” she turned to face the kitchen, chanting his name as you did earlier. You hear them arguing as you enjoyed the drink in your hand. It was white noise to you — the arguing, especially in Bucky’s diner. With him being the crabby man you’ve always known him to be, it was basically daily routine.

“You were right, he is grumpy this morning,” she said when he walked away again, this time to the back. “Wonder what happened,” she said, shrugging as she took a sip of her coffee.

People in the town have always talked about how similar you both were; you and Leah. Sometimes it did feel like you were looking in the mirror and reliving your teen years as she told you stories about her day and it would scare the fuck out of you.

“Hey, so birthday planning. Let’s go,” she patted your forearm, waking you from your thoughts, excited to turn 16. You sat up and giggled, feeling excitement running up your spine.

“Okay, so we’re gonna have it at home this year,” she nods. “After last year’s event, I vowed to never again go to a Ms. Patty party,” you both shudder, remembering the massive drunken embarrassment you had to go through at your 15-year-old’s birthday party. “Before that, we’re going somewhere special, a surprise if you may. Then we’re going shopping, which thank god your birthday is the end of the month. Cause how could we have lux on your birthday without a paycheck. We’ve got a date with your dad, says he wants to finally actually give you your gift in person this year? And a massive birthday cake with your face on it by the one and only Sookie, as per tradition,” you yap, fast-paced.

“Wait, we’re meeting dad?” she asks, cutting you off. You nodded fast, feeling the caffeine kick in. She smiled, looking down at her mug. And that’s when you felt beat up. When it came to Christopher, it always put a smile on her face. Maybe they were right. You were alike. So easily manipulated by the one man in both of your lives, who is only always there when time and circumstances met his convenience. Something naivete and youth made Leah fail to realize.

“Okay, kiddo. We’ll discuss birthday matters this evening, it’s almost 8,” you picked up her bag, gravity pulling your hand down soon after. “Woah, wormie, what are you carrying? Bricks?” you teased.

“You never know how much reading I can get done with all the waiting we do in school,” she whined after downing her coffee. She kissed your cheek and left the diner.

“God, that kid is something special,” you hear Bucky say as you both watched her walk to the school right opposite the diner. You turned around looking down at your mug, Bucky noticing a frown on your face. “What’s wrong?” he asks, bending down to look at your face.

You looked up, smiling a little. “It’s Leah’s dad,” you scrunched your nose. You never talked about Chris with anyone in the town except with Sookie and Bucky, the name and subject a sensitive topic to you. Never saying his name as if terrified some sort of evil would be summoned. Your relationship with him was beyond complex. You were best friends before anything, you-me-against-the-world (or against parents and the rich community you were brought up in), you knew him like the back of your hand. You still see him as such but since you found out you were pregnant, it all took a different turn and it wasn’t something you felt was right for either of you.

“He called again,” Bucky’s voice annoyed, rolling his eyes. He’d met him once and it was the most awkward, testosterone-filled conversation you’d ever witness. You snickered, knowing how he, as much as you, despised talking about him. “Hey,” he touches your forearm with his leather-gloved forefinger. You looked up at him. “If anything, you come to me,” you half-smiled.

Everyone in this small town knew about the mother-daughter dynamic you and Leah had. Hearing how she turned out great with just you raising her was something you heard very often, something you wished you felt through every fiber of your being. But you didn’t. And Bucky knew you struggled with that, trying his best to remind you every time you doubted. More often than not, she reminded you a lot more of Bucky than Chris, since she grew up knowing Bucky more than her dad.

“Thanks, old man,” you said, snickering behind your mug. He backed away from the counter, his grumpy face showing again. His eyebrows furrowed and his cheekbones prominent. He hated it when you called him that. He may be over a hundred years old but technically he was your age, he would remind you. “There he is!” you cheered, laughing at his frowned face.

“You have a problem,” Bucky said, taking the mug from your hand, and you slid the bill across the table. Still maintaining your gazes, seeing a small smile starting to form on his lips.

You were known by the whole town to be completely oblivious, seemingly being the only one who doesn’t know how Bucky has been pining for you for years. Even from Mars, the love he held for you in his heart could be seen. He tried several times to ask you out on a date, getting closer and closer each time he would try but something always had to happen right at the time he wanted to spit the words out of his mouth. A coward, as Sam, another regular at the diner, would call him when he realized he'd been staring at her.

You did, however, think about dating him once after having a moment with him in the diner. It was late, and you wanted coffee after a bad date. Nearly kissing until Kirk came into the diner to get his emergency late-night burger. You brought it to Leah’s attention, but to that she immediately declined, saying it might ruin the best coffee in town for the both of you.

Saturday rolled around; Leah’s birthday. You woke her up at 3 a.m., another annual essential where you would tell her the infamous story of the day she was born.

“What do you think of your life thus far, my dear?” you brushed her hair as your lied down next to her.

“I think it’s great,” she yawned.

“Any complaints?” you asked, and she shook her head. “I think you’re a great cool kid and the best friend a girl could have,” you said to her lovingly.

“Back at ya,” she answered.

“And it’s so hard to believe that many moons ago I was lying in exactly this same position,” you looked up at the ceiling, flashbacks playing in your head.

“Oh boy, here we go,” Leah said. You shushed her and continued the story.

When you walked into the diner, you were greeted by Bucky at the front door. You frowned at him, being too close to you, your hands hovered over his chest. He opened an arm to gesture you to a table by the window on your right. When you looked, your jaw dropped. He decorated the table. He laid a beautiful lace tablecloth, with a vase filled with flowers in the middle and balloons next to one of the chairs and Leah’s favorite; a rainbow cake, with a lot of frosting.

“Bucky, what is this? This isn’t you. And flowers?” you looked at him, eyes in disbelief. He shrugged. “This is amazing,” you touched the table cloth, mouth agape. “Thank you, Bucky,” you hugged him, his face red to which you were too busy to see.

He walked away, knowing your order before you could tell him. The Y/N Special he printed in the new menu. Leah came into the diner, you sat up and smiled as you waited for her reaction. “What is all this?” her jaw dropped as well.

“It’s all Bucky,” you shook your head, as she caressed the lace tablecloth. “Where he got this tablecloth? No idea!” you leaned in, whispering loudly.

“Bucky, you big ole softy,” she said to Bucky who came with your regular. He blushed when she gave him a hug, quiet as he walked back behind the counter. Your eyes followed him, still surprised by his adorable gesture.

“Hey, remember what I said about dating Bucky?” you asked her, still looking at Bucky who was taking orders. She hummed as she gobbled down her food. “Do you think it’ll work out if we did?” you asked again.

“Honestly, I think it will,” she said, cheeks stuffed with food. “Especially after this,” she gestured to the decorations. “But yeah, I do,” she said after swallowing her food, following your gaze to look at him.

It was the first time she’d ever okayed a man in your life other than Chris. You both loved Bucky especially after what he’s been through. The grumpy demeanor he displays justified.

Lane, Leah’s best friend walked into the diner, squealing as she hugged and wished her. You stood up with your order and walked to the counter to allow them to chat.

“Hey, Buck,” you said, seeing him clean his toaster. He hummed, his back still facing you. “With your expertise displayed on the very lovely table there, could you help Sookie out with decorating my place while Leah and I frolic about town?” you asked, chewing on your waffles.

“Yeah, sure anything for my best customers,” he said as he grunted, fixing the toaster.

“Why don’t you use your tools?” you asked, pointing at the toaster with your knife. Stopping what he did, he turned to shoot a glare at you.

“My toolbox is sitting in your lovely home collecting dust because you could not and will not bother to give it back to me,” he complained. You snickered knowingly since you purposely brought up his toolbox.

“Well, it’s the only thing in the house that warns burglars that there could possibly be a man in the house,” you said melodramatically as you enjoyed your food. He grabbed the knife and fork out of your hand, your hands up in the air and mouth open. You placed your hands on your lap and sighed.

“Fine, you can have John back,” you said. His eyebrows crossed in confusion and frustration. You had a track record of being stubborn and playful. Something everyone who knew you grew to normalise.

“Not every non-living thing needs to have a name,” he said, putting the utensils back on your plate.

“Yes they do. I could tell visitors that John is in the living room sitting on the floor,” and you continued to yap Bucky’s ears off until you left to bring Leah on her birthday adventure. Reminding him that you left the decorations by the couch at home and he could use the key hidden under the turtle statue.

It was almost 1 a.m., Bucky heard a loud voice from outside, he dragged his feet to the window and opened it, sticking half his body out. Flinching when he saw a stone coming in his direction. “What the hell are you doing?” he shouted at you in your pjs, holding a pillow under your arm. He was wearing short-sleeved t-shirt, something you barely saw him wear.

“I’m homeless! I’ve got nowhere to go,” you shouted back. You heard a window open at the next building and turned to face it. An old man appeared out of the window.

“Hey, would you shut up? It’s late!” the old man with his thick Boston accent shouted at you. You looked at him and then at Bucky then back at him and burst out laughing. “Would you please get her the hell outta here?” the man said to Bucky and went back inside. He went down to get you, groaning as he walked down finding you, still in a fit of laughter.

“The resemblance? Uncanny!” you said, still laughing as he grabbed your arm and pulled you into the diner.

You helped Bucky set up the mattress after looking around his apartment and teasing him for things he owned. Being friends with him for years, you’d never been in his “home” above the diner before.

“What made you homeless tonight?” Bucky asks as you fixed the bedsheet together.

“Everyone else passed out drunk, even Chris,” you said. Shocked that you brought up his name, he fiddled with his fingers as he sat by his dining table. “I’m still kinda drunk. That name slipped out of my mouth,” you said, laughing nervously, sitting next to him.

“What did he do this time?” he asked looking up from his hands.

“Surprisingly, he was nice. He was a dad for once but he hasn’t left so we’ll see what happens,” you sighed. Bucky knew the reason for your uncertainty with raising Leah was because of Chris. The seed of doubt sprouted after years of Chris reminding you that you couldn’t do it alone which made Bucky’s blood boil.

“At least she’s not pregnant yet,” you said, running your hands against the wooden dining table.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that,” he said. “You were 16?” he asked.

“15 and a half,” you pointed out. “Ruined my 16th birthday, my mother said. What a disappointment it must have been for my parents to have me,” you looked at him.

“Can’t imagine anyone seeing you as a disappointment,” he shook his head and you sighed.

“You know, Buck. Seeing what you do for Leah, I bet you’ll make a great dad one day,” you mention, examining his face. His eyes looked sleepy.

“You make a great mom. This whole town can vouch for that fact. For how young you were when you had her, 15 and a half? Every parent makes mistakes but you make the mistakes seem like fun,” you chuckled. “You were never alone in raising her. The town has played a part in raising her with you much more than Chris ever did so I don’t know what the fuck he’s talkin' about,” he says, a lump formed in your throat.

“Yeah, it’s just the daughter part I, uh, I don’t have down yet,” Bucky exhaled through his nose. You thought about a recent fight you had with Leah about the boy she’d been dating. Something you brought up as a problem because you were terrified of possible outcomes. But you knew he was a great boy, Dean. Sweet, charming and a gentleman.

“You looked great tonight,” you placed your hand on his, you felt the cold metal against your skin. You’d never really seen his metal arm, always hidden under the sleeve of his leather jacket and gloves. His signature look, even in the summer. You stroked his metal hand and even though he couldn’t physically feel your touch, he felt goosebumps form on his skin. Physical touch was never a part of your friendship.

He smirked, raising his brow and tilting his head making you roll your eyes. “I don’t mean you don’t look great all the time, you do, and,” you groaned. “Don’t be cocky now,” you clicked your tongue, laughing, still smirking at you.

“You looked great too,” his voice cracked, coughing to clear his throat. “y/n,” he called your name, his voice lower and deeper.

“Yeah?” you whispered. His eyes softer than you were used to, finally seeing his blue eyes.

“Would you want to go on a date with me sometime?” he asked, eyes looking at your lips then back to your eyes. He felt his palm get sweaty, heart thumped loudly in his chest he swore you could hear it. He’d always have the words play in his head but he never thought the moment would ever come.

You felt your cheeks burn, you never thought he’d ever ask you. He studied your face to predict what you were gonna say, cringing a little expecting a bad answer or a laugh.

“I would love to, Buck,” you bit your bottom lip. He let out the breath he held, smiling as he shifted in his seat. After years of pining, he finally got to take his favorite girl on a date.

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collecting-stories · 4 years

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Tears Won’t Cry - c. 07 - JJ Maybank

Summary: You and JJ have sex for the first time and you hear something you’d rather not.

A/N: This chapter clocks in at a whopping 5.8k...I took some serious time with it so I hope you guys like it and, as always, thank you for reading.

You Are Ok Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

✞ We’ll borrow happiness just for the night ✞

The more you thought about JJ’s offer the more tempting it seemed. Doing chores around the house, cooking, doing lessons, practicing piano for church, it didn’t matter what you were doing, that little voice in the back of your mind crept in, telling you that going with JJ would be the ultimate freedom. You wouldn’t have anyone telling you what to wear or who to talk to or what to do.

Your mom would tell you that was the voice of the ‘enemy’, the great evil that had turned Eve from god and caused immeasurable destruction. Every time the outside world came a little too close to the bubble your parents had created your mom claimed it was the work of the devil, persecuting her for her beliefs.

And didn’t Jesus spend forty days and forty nights in the desert resisting temptation from the very same devil? Hadn’t you been brought up in the church, taught the way of the Lord and encouraged, every day to resist those temptations that threatened your way of life? But here you were, spending every waking moment consumed with the idea of JJ. Maybe Jesus had survived out there but you were sure you couldn’t, not having been with JJ the way you had.

The one cardinal sin of your family, maybe more than anything else, was premarital intimacy. Sex was supposedly only good if you were married and then only intended for reproduction or for pleasing a husband. It was, according to both your parents, the most sacred part of yourself that you could give away. And even with the amount of thought you had given it, the careful consideration of your feelings and your future, you imagined burning in a holy fire or turning to salt like Lot’s wife were the only options left for you if you ever told them that you had given that part of yourself to JJ.

You had mulled over the decision for three nights, had even considered praying about it though you were sure that wasn’t the sort of prayer you addressed to God, but on the fourth night you were certain. Sitting there on the non-bunk bed in your room, listening to the sound of the faucet running as JJ brushed his teeth. You knew nothing about flirting techniques or subtle seduction...you really didn’t know anything about sex at all. Your approach so far, with every part of your relationship with JJ, had just been straightforward.

So, you were straightforward again. When JJ came out of the bathroom, shutting off the hall light and leaving your door slightly cracked the way you had told him you liked it to be, you sat up more against the head board, “I think I’m ready.”

“For?”

“For...us to have sex.” You stumbled over the words, sounding less sure out loud than you were in your head. You knew this was what you wanted; JJ was what you wanted. Even if you loved someone else someday down the line you wanted this moment to belong to the two of you.

“Right now?” JJ asked, hand still on the door knob.

“Well. I don’t really know how to initiate sex so…whatever you usually do.” You replied shrugging your shoulders.

JJ let the door stay open, leaving it to cross the room and sit down on the side of the bed. You moved closer to him, sitting sideways and letting one leg hanging over the edge, toes brushing the cold hard wood as you stared at each other. Maybe that was all that would happen, you would stare for a while, both too unsure to make the next move, until finally just resigning yourselves to sleep. JJ had always been confident in bed but this was different, everything about it felt like he was treading in uncharted territory, emotionally there was no way back from this once he jumped off the cliff.

He brought his hand up to your cheek like he’d done a thousand times before, leaning forward to kiss you. He could taste the floral chapstick you had on, a little tacky against his own lips as his tongue ran across your bottom lip. You had kissed before, made out with him pretty heavily, and though you still felt timid about somethings you tried to push that aside, shifting closer to him while breaking the kiss, biting his bottom lip as you did, JJ’s eyes opening for a second in surprise. The surprise gave way to pleasure as you kissed his neck, nudging the collar of his shirt out of the way with your nose in an attempt to access more skin.

“Here,” Eager to witness you in charge of this moment, JJ broke away to pull his shirt over his head, tossing it across the room. You smiled, a quick kiss to his lips before you were back to his neck and shoulders, the skin there tan and freckled from the sun. JJ hooked his hand under your thigh, pulling you toward him until you got the idea, hooking an arm around him for stability as you straddled his lap.

You resumed your work, alternating between leaving light kisses over the freckles on his shoulders and bruising the skin around his collar, gentle first and then eager and insatiable. Your other hand rested against his abs and you could feel his breaths under your touch, heavy and impatient. You were too afraid to ask him if anything you were doing felt good because you were afraid it didn’t. You knew you couldn’t kiss him forever but you would’ve been happy too, his skin was warm and when you scraped your teeth against his collar the moan he let out sounded heavenly. You could’ve listened to him for an eternity.

JJ caught your face in his hands, kissing you again and then leaning his forehead against yours. He liked you in control but right then, “can I?” He asked, one hand going to the hem of the shirt you were wearing for bed.

“Yeah,” you weren’t entirely sure how to proceed anyway, you were happy to let him lead. Before he could pull the shirt off, you let your leg drop off the bed, finding solid ground and stepping backward off his lap. JJ pouted, grabbing at you but you backed out of his reach. You gripped the hem of your shirt, keeping eye contact with JJ as you lifted it over your head, dropping it down by your feet.

You had imagined plenty of times that the first time you would ever undress in front of a guy it would be on your wedding night and it would be a dress that they were unzipping you from. Instead, it was an old gray t-shirt with a pun about Jesus on the front that your brother Robert had gotten at a youth retreat. Nothing special by far. But JJ looked at you like you hung the stars. He reached his hand out, grabbing yours and pulling you back to the bed. He stood you between his legs, hands on your hips.

“You alright?” JJ asked, looking up at you and smiling, thumbs rubbing circles into your hips. He was sitting there, staring at you almost entirely naked, standing in front of him and he felt like his mouth had gone dry. Frozen in some form as just the person who gets to look and he knew what a momentous thing that was for you. Just to let him see you this way.

You nodded, resting one hand on his shoulder, the other cupping his cheek and he turned his face into your palm to kiss you. The confirmation that you were okay and that the look in your eye was one of complete desire and love was the only motivation that JJ needed, pulling you into his lap again, his hands running up to your waist to hold you as he brought both of you further onto the bed.

In the prelude to sex JJ had plenty of opening lines, commentary on how hot a girl was or how she made him feel but as you kissed him again, twisting off his lap so your back was on the bed and you guide him on top of you, it all felt indescribable. JJ settled for an “I love you,” whispered into your skin as he pressed his lips to your collar, one hand moving up the expanse of your stomach while the other held him over you.

“I love you too,” your response sounded breathless, a result of JJ’s trail of kisses down to your chest. His right hand groped your right breast, thumbing brushing over your nipple repeatedly as his mouth closed the other one, pressing his tongue flat against it. The sensation was enough to have you squirm under him, tensing slightly, biting down on your lip as you griped the shorter hairs at the back of his head.

He pulled away, the cool area of the room chilling you as he switched his concentration, kissing just below your breast before his mouth to the other, hand moving to hold your side as you moaned at the feeling of his mouth on you. “Your so sensitive,” JJ commented, tone conveying the awe he felt as he continued to lavish your breasts with attention.

JJ kissed you like it was an art form, like you were something delicate and he wanted to take his time to savor every part of you. His mouth moved across your stomach, kissing parts of you that you harbored insecurities about. He stopped his appreciation of your body when he reached your underwear, resting his chin on your stomach as he looked up at you. Waiting. He’d moved himself almost off the bed, halfway to a kneel your legs hanging off the bed on either side of him. You pushed yourself onto your elbows, looking down at him as he smiled at you.

“This is what you want?” He had to be sure, wanted to hear you tell him you wanted him as much as you trusted him, as much as you loved him.

“Yes.” You felt the rush of a chill down your spine as JJ kissed the inside of your right thigh, his fingers slipping around the hem of your underwear to pull them down. Nothing spectacular, in fact-

“It’s not Thursday,” JJ laughed, reading the printed text on the front of your underwear. A gift four years ago, you still retained half the collection.

“Saturday sort of, got ruined by an early period.” You laughed, lifting your head up again, “is there usually this much talking during sex?”

“Shush,” JJ teased, nipping at the sensitive skin below your stomach. Though he didn’t say it then, any girl he’d been with before had kept themselves some level of shaved but you had obviously never felt the need to. It was no real difference to him, or so he discovered as he kissed the insides of your thighs again. As he did he pushed your legs a little further apart slating them on either side of his shoulders. You were still propped up on your elbows, watching him in fascination. No one, yourself included, had ever touched you like JJ was.

The most comprehensive sex education had skimmed over details of actual sex, promising that your future husband would know your body well enough to teach you about it on your wedding night. If Timothy had even crossed your mind while this was happening, you certainly wouldn’t have drawn any conclusions to him being this skilled.

You moaned unexpectedly, surprise laced with something else, something far more primal as JJ parted your lower lips, middle finger gently running up your slit, coating it in pre-cum, ghosting a circle around your clit. Your right thigh brushed his arm and moved onto his shoulder as the minute sensation had you trying to close your legs. JJ leaned his head against the same thigh, turning just enough that he could brush a kiss against your skin.

“I got you.” He promised.

As he continued, thumb brushing over your clit as he worked in slow circles, savouring the moment, hyper aware of every twitch, moan, or movement of your body, you fell back off your elbows. You laid flat on your back, hands gripping at sheets as JJ fingered you. He picked up the pace of his thumb, pressing a little harder as he did, his middle finger slipping back into your entrance, the movement slow but still making you jerk slightly, pressing your heel into his back.

“It’s okay,” JJ shushed, kissing you leg down to the apex of your thigh, “your okay.”

You hummed in response, in no position to use any actual words. He slipped his middle finger further inside, slowly letting you adjust to the feeling. JJ had never been this careful during sex but couldn’t deny that it was arousing in itself, taking his time, focused solely on the way you felt and not some endgame-moment-of-ecstasy. He added another finger and you squeezed your eyes shut, tensing at the feeling for a split second but it left just as quickly as it came.

JJ was off his knees, hovering over you, kissing your nose and then your mouth. “It’s okay,” he promised, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you were already breathing heavy, eyes fluttering open just enough to look at him. JJ’s expression softened as he moved again, hooking an arm around around you and helping you sit up, pressing his lips to your forehead.

“Not tonight?” He asked, before you could even form the words. He climbed onto the bed more so he could sit you in his lap, grabbing his discarded shirt and pulling it over your head as you caved into him.

“I thought I was ready.” You admitted, wrapping your arms around him, “I just-“

“It doesn’t have to be right now…it doesn’t even have to be soon. Whenever you’re ready.” JJ replied.

“Yeah but what about you?”

JJ shrugged, “I’d be happy with whatever you’re willing to give me.” He admitted, “it’s not…I mean you said yourself, sex is something really important to you and, I like having sex but it’s not like that for me so…I can wait. I’m not going anywhere. You should feel like it’s what you want it to be.”

“Can we just lay here for a while?” You asked, shifting so you could move up the bed to get beneath the covers. JJ followed suit, letting you get between him and the wall.

With the covers up around the both of you, JJ laid on his side, head propped propped on one hand while you held the other, fingers twirling the bracelets on his wrist. A familiar one stood out, buried under intricately knotted friendship bracelets, the neon green peeking through. You pulled at it, revealing the black ichthus that was stitched onto the cheap plastic thread.

“This is mine?” You almost laughed, holding his hand closer to your face to get a better look.

“I know,” JJ admitted, “I stole it the first night you let me in your room. I saw it on the desk and took it.”

“I’m not sure a WWJD bracelet is something you would need to consult on a daily basis.” You said. Of all the non-Christian people you had encountered in your seventeen years, JJ was the furthest from the church you could think of.

“Why, what does it mean?” He asked, pressing his nose against your jaw, kissing the underside of your chin.

“What Would Jesus Do.”

“See,” he teased, “I thought it meant ‘what would JJ do’.”

“I think that would be WWJJD and no one would want to take that advice.” You replied, letting go of his hand to pull him into a kiss.

JJ hovered over you as you deepened the kiss, one hand at the back of his head, keeping him close as you imitated his earlier actions, tongue running across his bottom lip. You grabbed his free hand, resting on your hip, and dragged it up, pushing it under your shirt and onto your stomach.

“Can we see where this goes?” You asked, pulling away enough to look in his eyes.

“Anything you want.” He promised.

JJ’s movements were as slow as they had been last time, concealed now by the blanket that was over the two of you. He stayed close, where you could see him, kissing your neck, collar, face, lips, as he slipped his fingers into your still slick entrance.

You moved your hands down to the waistband of his shorts. He’d changed into a pair of basketball shorts to sleep in, easier access than the cargo shorts he had on earlier. When your hand slipped past his waistband he pressed his face into your neck, his fingers stilling for a moment inside you.

“I should tell you, I have no idea what I’m doing,” you mentioned, voice still breathless.

JJ was tempted to tell you that it wouldn’t take much for him to lose it. “You don’t have to do anything,” he replied, kissing your throat.

“I’ve never actually seen…” you trailed off, flustered at the thought. “I mean, in a textbook.”

“This is the hottest pre-sex talk ever,” JJ teased, enjoying the way your breath hitched when he pulled his fingers out again, “someday, I’m gonna make you cum.” He said.

Your eyes widened as he licked his fingers, smiling at you as he sucked them clean. JJ flopped down next to you, pushing his shorts down without any care in the world. You covered your eyes with your hands on instinct almost and JJ laughed, grabbing your wrists and pulling your hands down to his mouth so he could kiss your palms.

“Come here.” He instructed, guiding you to straddle him, watching as you sat over his thighs. “Let me show you?”

This, JJ decided as you wrapped your hand around his cock, thumb smearing pre-cum at the tip, was arguably the hottest thing he’d ever done in his life. He closes his hand over yours, guiding you as you stroke him, your eyes focused on the way his body responded to you. JJ’s chest and face were flushed red from arousal, his own eyes trained on you as he tried to keep his control over the situation. He didn’t want to spook you again, wanted to keep you comfortable. He had never been one to tap out early when it came to sex but he wasn’t sure how long he would truly be able to last. The condom that he’d found in his backpack after you told him you wanted to have sex and he went digging sat on your bedside table and he reached for it now.

When he was sure you were ready, he moved your hands to his stomach, telling you to brace yourself on him. You followed his lead as you sat up onto your knees, one of his hands gripping your waist as he guided you down on his cock, the stretch of your walls around him lessened from the angle. You moaned at the feeling of him, short breaths filling the air as you gripped his sides.

“Fuck.” You whispered the curse word, only the second time you’d ever said it though for a reason just as fitting as the first. You couldn’t think of many others that could’ve described the feeling you were experiencing.

There were a million things JJ wanted to say as he stared up at you, a thousand emotions pressing against his chest, each more in love with you than the last. He would’ve frozen this exact moment if he could’ve, just stayed like this for an eternity because how was he supposed to see you get engaged to someone else after this. Before he could get too in his head you shifted your weight forward, rolling your hips and lifting yourself up just enough that when you came back down, walls clenching around him, JJ’s hips jerked up and his hands gripped your hips tighter, fingers digging into your skin.

“Shit, holy shit.” He muttered, coaxing you to repeat the motion. You steadied yourself with your hands on his chest, rolling your hips again. “Just like that.” The third time you tried it JJ’s grip didn’t let up, instead he took the lead, picking up your pace for you. Once you seemed to catch up to the rythmn of his movements, trying your best not to overthink anything and just focus on him, JJ dropped one of his hands. You jerked at the feeling of his fingers pushing passed your folds, thumb finding your clit again and rubbing against it.

“Oh my god, JJ,” you moaned at the feeling of him overtaking your senses, your stomach tightening as he thrust his hips up to meet you, almost falling out of the rythmn he’d been keeping as you crested, orgasming first. Loud and panting, your hand slipped and you almost collapsed on him, the shifting angle and the way you clenched around him sending him over that edge with you.

It hadn’t felt anything but natural when it happened and with anyone else you didn’t think you would’ve felt as comfortable with yourself as he made you feel. JJ didn’t rush, he wasn’t impatient or self-serving. You’d read once, in a book you read sequestered in the library away from any eyes that might recognize you, about a rather steamy romance. The book was trash but you remembered that feeling of utter confusion as you read and re-read the line about feeling ‘worshipped’. How could any one person worship another?

The question answered itself in the way that JJ held you in the afterglow. And the pure, unadulterated bliss he felt when you placed kisses along his jaw, punctuating them with reminders of how much you loved him. He’d stayed with you those four days and at the Chateau before that, only a minute bruise near his hip still evident from the last time he was home and when you asked about it he claimed it was a surfing injury.

“She loves you,” Kiara had argued when he told her that he had no intention of telling you about his father. He could see, in a way, why your parents wanted to shelter you. They were just trying to keep you safe, to shield you from all the unsavory parts of life and he, in that same way, for that same reason, couldn’t bring himself to tell you about his dad.

“She won’t love that.” He was resolved to his decision. If he didn’t tell you than things could keep on going exactly the way they had been.

But it wasn’t his dad, in fact, that had any bearing on the course of things. Meeting up with each other once your parents were home returned to be a Olympic-level obstacle. You swearing that you were headed to Kiara’s for a ‘bible study’ and promising to be home before dinner, walking instead in the direction of the Chateau.

JJ wasn’t there yet when you knocked, John B answering the door instead. “Hey, I didn’t realize you were coming over.” He greeted, stepping out onto the patio with you, “this doesn’t bother you, does it?” He was referring to the fact that he was shirtless and you shook your head.

“It’s fine, I mean, it is your house.” You shrugged, sitting on the arm of one of the couches. You loved hanging out with Kiara and Pope, they didn’t just feel like JJ’s friends but yours too. There was just something about John B, you could never quite get there with him.

“JJ said your parents were out of town last week?” He asked, “Figured that was why it was so quiet here.”

“Yeah I borrowed all the loud energy for a few days,” you laughed, “it was nice though, getting to spend time with him without having to sneak around the island.”

John B nodded, walking across the small space to look outside. He paced back over to the other couch, taking a seat on the arm, mirroring your position. With your back to the screen you couldn’t see JJ approaching the house and later it was obvious that was John B’s intent all along. “Look, you seem really nice and I don’t wanna hurt your feelings, I think you’re a really cool person,” he started, pausing at the right spot to build anticipation.

“But?” You asked. You missed the sound of JJ’s boots on the steps for the creaky nature of the floorboards when John B stood up.

“But he’s only dating you for a bet. Sarah bet him $200 he could get you to sleep with him.” He replied, the sound of the door slamming open the perfect punctuation to the sentence.

“What the fuck John B!” JJ snapped, tackling his friend into the couch you were sitting on the arm of. You jumped, stumbling back a few steps, eyes wide as JJ punched John B in the ribs, pinning him down to the couch. The whole thing felt like it was playing out in slow motion but sped up at the same time. When John B finally managed to shove JJ off of him, throwing the blond to the floor, you snapped out of whatever trance it had ensnared you in.

“JJ!” You said his name before he could even get himself back on his feet and both boys looked at you. “Is it true?”

JJ stood up, grabbing his hat off the ground and clenching his fists around it. When he paid John B back it had been with the implied understanding that no one outside of their circle ever needed to know about the bet. Pope had urged him to tell you, insisting that maybe you would understand. But it was far too late for that. The bet was that the two of you had sex and you had and knowing about the bet did nothing but cheapen the moment.

“Is it true?” You repeated, trying to hold tears at bay as everything felt like it was crashing around you. This was exactly why your mom believed so strongly that the outside world was innately evil.

“It wasn’t that simple-“ JJ started to say but you cut him off.

“Yes or no?” You snapped, voicing raising more than JJ had ever heard, even when you were freaking out over lunch with Timothy’s family, “is John B telling the truth?”

“Yes.” JJ sighed, running a hand through his hair. You backed away from both of them and turned, pulling the door open and running down the steps. “Fuck,” he cursed, taking off after you. He called your name but you didn’t answer, going along the path he’d shown you between your house and John B’s. The moment you hit the yard he stopped, he couldn’t follow you there, as if the ground was poisonous to his touch. It was a natural repellent and he stood at the edge of the tree line, watching you head inside.

Minutes. It took minutes, and John B deciding to be an absolute asshole, to completely pull apart the only actual relationship he’d ever been in. He wanted nothing more than to go back to the Chateau and beat the shit out of John B until he felt better but he knew, in reality, that nothing was bound to actually make him feel anything but completely broken. You were gone. JJ changed course, heading instead to Heyward’s.

He had told Pope, while both of them were in the kitchen at John B’s, that he had slept with you for the first time. Kiara had told him, because he had blabbed to her too, that virginity was a social construct.

“You shouldn’t make such a big deal out of it.” She’d insisted.

“It is a big deal Kie, to her. It’s a huge fucking deal.” He had argued.

But none of that felt like it even mattered cause he had fucked up so badly that he wasn’t entirely sure how to fix it. He could certainly chance going to your house but he didn’t want to show up too soon. If you needed time he wanted to give that to you, whatever you needed, so long as, in the end, you believed him when he told you that it was all just a mistake. The bet, not you.

Kiara called JJ that night, you had come by her house after dinner, after asking your parents if you could sleep over, and apologizing for showing up at all. “I know this is shitty to do to you, JJ’s your best friend, I just…don’t have other friends to go to.” You had all but cried when Kiara hugged you, pulling you into her house.

You certainly couldn’t call any of your siblings, even the ones you were closest too would not be understanding. All they would see was a girl who broke her vows to the church by dating, by having sex, by lying and tricking your parents. There was no possible way that anyone in your house or your family or even anyone in your church would understand your decision to, in their minds, turn your back on God to be with a boy. So you went to Kiara’s and hoped that she wouldn’t turn you away. Whatever the bet with JJ was, you felt like Kiara was a friend, someone you could count on more than anyone else in your life right now.

“You can come over anytime, about anything.” She promised.

“I just feel so stupid,” you confessed, sitting on the bed in her bedroom, drinking a seltzer from her secret stash behind her desk. Losing your virginity, getting drunk, crying over a boy, you’d hit all your milestones in a week. If you were sober, if you weren’t so upset, you would be able to look at it for what it was but instead you stuck in this place, grieving over something you thought was so real. “John B said it was all just a bet.”

“What did JJ say?” Kiara asked. She knew about the bet but had felt like it was JJ’s place to tell you. Obviously, he had not.

“That it was, that John B was telling the truth.” You replied, taking another sip.

“Maybe you should talk to him?” She suggested. It was a tricky line to walk down but Kiara didn’t want you to give up on JJ. She knew he had feelings for you. “I’ve been friends with JJ for a really long time, I’ve never seen him like this.”

Kiara had known JJ since middle school and she’d watched him, since then, go through different relationships, if they could be called that. Dates required more effort than he was willing to give when they expected the same attention that he paid to his friends, quickly altering the way he approached relationships until they were just hook-ups. Just short lived moments, half the time too drunk to remember. He flirted, an empty gesture that compensated for his need to be physically close to people without him having to seem clingy.

“I just don’t know why he didn’t tell me.” You cried. “No wonder my parents never wanted me to date, it hurts so much.”

“I know,” Kiara lamented, crawling across the bed so she could pull you into a hug, your head resting against her shoulder as you continued to cry. It was like an endless sadness, you couldn’t imagine recovering from.

It was when you finally fell asleep, exhausted from crying and almost entirely drunk, that Kiara finally called JJ. She left you tucked in her bed, going into the bathroom and locking the door as she sat on the closed toilet to call him. It was nearing three in the morning but he answered anyway, immediately asking if she had heard from you.

“She took off toward her house and it’s not like I can call her or something. I followed her to her yard but I was worried her parents would see me.” JJ had hastily explained. He’d thought about going back later but when he did your mom was in the yard and he didn’t want to chance it.

“She’s here.” Kiara replied, voice low so her parents did come snooping when they heard voices. Her mom had been dying to get some kind of gossip out of you when you first showed up.

“John B told her about the bet.”

“Did you explain that you gave the money back?” She asked.

“I…I just kinda got into it with John B.” He admitted. “In my defense though, she didn’t let me explain!” He knew it wasn’t your fault, you were upset, but thinking that it’d been him, by proxy, that had hurt you like that had his stomach turning.

“I’m pretty sure finding out that the first guy you’ve ever dated or had feelings for was using you for a bet would be kind of traumatizing JJ! She doesn’t really wanna talk to anyone, she barely explained what happened, she just keeps saying how stupid she feels.” Kiara replied.

“I just need to talk to her.”

“Maybe just, give it some time?” She suggested.

“I don’t have time.” JJ replied, pulling at strands of his hair as he combed his fingers through it. “She’s eighteen in a week. Her parents set her up with this guy from Tennessee and she’s going be engaged on her birthday. I can’t let her go through with it.”

“That’s part of her life JJ, I mean, that’s what her family believes-“

“She deserves more than that!”

“And you can provide this? I don’t wanna be that bitch Jay but, seriously? You can provide something for her that’s better than, at least, some security. Something worth giving up her entire family for?” Kiara asked. She knew she sounded awful but she couldn’t help questioning him. The last thing she wanted was you trapped into a life you didn’t want but JJ playing like everything would be rainbows and good times if you left was impractical.

“I have a plan.”

“And what exactly, is that?”

“Look, I don’t fucking need you getting all high and mighty!” JJ spat, pissed as it was. Kiara had the nerve to tell him not to make such a big deal about sex but she could turn around and bitch him out for wanting to ‘interfere with your life’. He knew she was just trying to be a decent friend to you but he didn’t want her input, he just wanted her to put you on the phone.

“You’re playing with her life here Jay…if she chooses you, if you apologize and she gets back together with you…she will never get to speak to her family again. Is that what you want?” She questioned, “to have her ostracized from her family.”

“I want her to be happy.” JJ replied, “and to know that none of this was fake.”

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