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etfrin · 3 months

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❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter twelve | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 NSFW | Canon typical violence, coriolanus snow, dr. gual, mentions of blood, mentions of period, period sex (fingering, f. receiving), dom-ish Coriolanus, mean Coriolanus, murder, aftercare | lmk if I forgot anything!

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 Coriolanus Snow finds himself in the arena and later in your arms

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 double update, and they had more than their first kiss? how are you liking it so far? please let me know! ❤️

beta read by perfection itself @nowitsmissing

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The gong sounded at that moment, and the tributes scattered. Most fled to the gates that led to the tunnels, several of which had been blown open by the latest bombing. Coriolanus could see Lucy Gray run to the underground tunnel he had told her about.

‘Run!’ he thinks, and he could see Coral, the girl from District Four with her trident already killing tributes. The fights were a blur. He sees Lucy Gray noticing Jessup, the District twelve boy yet to pick up any weapons. The stupid songbird runs towards him instead of the tunnels and Coriolanus nearly stands up, wanting to yell at her for her actions. It was a few close calls, but she hadn't died.

She takes Jessup and flees under the tunnels. She tries to kick the door open, but the metal door refuses to budge. She looks around, afraid that other tributes would catch up. Meanwhile, Flickerman comments as other tributes rush in, “Hy and Sol on the other side pincering on Lucy Gray.”

There was a small space below the door, thankfully Coriolanus watched as Lucy Gray and Jessup managed to crawl in. Another tribute dies but is brutally murdered by Coral's pack. Meanwhile Jessup and Lucy Gray are safe in the room they were in.

Coriolanus relaxes in his seat, relieved for now. Six tributes were gone within minutes. Lucky Flickerman comments, “To the children watching, that was violent, horrific, and disgusting.” Coriolanus wants to scoff at the blatant hypocrisy, the games existed because the Capitol enforced it. It was violent because of the Capitol. It was disgusting but it wasn't on the districts.

Coriolanus catches himself, his chain of thoughts rebelling against his beliefs. He swallows and looks at you. Your free hand clutching your stomach, your face turning pale in sickness. Coriolanus finds himself overwrought, he leans in to whisper, “Are you alright?”

You let out a small groan and shook your head, “I started bleeding this morning. The painkillers aren't kicking in and the cramps are getting worse.” It takes Coryo an embarrassing amount of time to understand what you meant. You're on your period. Oh. Your earlier behavior made a bit more sense now, you were in pain and you were acting out.

He knew the basics of the menstrual cycle thanks to the Academy teaching Sex Ed. And Tigris never shied away from it either, she made sure Coriolanus knew that period was an extremely normal thing a woman (or anyone with a uterus) has to go through each month. He lets his eyes soften, and he squeezes your hand in a comforting manner.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” He asked.

You shake your head in response, but you look even sicker than before. Coriolanus felt displeased seeing you like this, you should have been resting instead the damn games kept you here. It also explained why you had to skip your interview too. You were too sick.

He looks at the screens. Nothing interesting was happening now. It was so boring that Lucky Flickerman had switched to his former job of being a weatherman. Coriolanus decided to go to the cafeteria, hoping to find something you could snack on. That should help a tiny bit.

“I will be back,” he announced, getting up from his seat and heading to the cafeteria. He sees the assortment of food, he heads straight for the sandwiches first. He takes a plate and gets four sandwiches. Two for each of you. Then he searches for something sweet, thankfully, due to the joyous occasion of the games. The cafeteria made different sorts of desserts including chocolate. Coriolanus made sure to pile them up on the plate, leaving nothing behind. He wasn't sure what you liked after all. He was hoping to find out after this.

Then he looks at one of the staff, and he's not sure if he should ask or not. But then he remembered how you were clutching your stomach. With a sigh, he calls someone out, a fellow worker who looks back and politely smiles at Coriolanus.

“Is there any possible way to be given hot water in a bottle?”

“If it's to drink we can give you a glass-”

“No, it's for my girl. She has cramps.”

The female worker nods in understanding and tells him to wait. Coriolanus looked at the clock of the cafeteria, five minutes had passed. He wondered if anything was happening. He hoped that he hadn't missed anything and the songbird was safe. She was the key to everything after all.

“The show isn't over until the mockingjay sings,” he mutters in futile reassurance.

The worker comes in and hands him the hot water bottle. Coriolanus thanks her and rushes back to the auditorium. “You're back,” you said to him, your gaze on the plate of food he had bought. The only meal both of you had was the breakfast he cooked, and neither finished it. So it was understandable you were hungry.

“What did I miss?” He asked, handing you the hot water bottle. You stare at the metal bottle for a moment, baffled by the gesture. He could see your eyes to water and he felt dread creeping in his mind. Had he fucked up? He wanted to do something nice, that's all. He wanted to take care of you!

“Thank you,” you choked out, your voice thick with vulnerability. You press the hot water bottle to the area of your cramps and blink the tears away. “And sorry…” you muttered sheepishly, “Shouldn't have behaved that way.”

“It's fine,” he said, even if it wasn't. You shouldn't have been rude to him, so unnecessarily, but he will let go for now. He turned away to look at the screen to see Marcus was dead, lying on the ground.

Coriolanus turns to you for an explanation. You were ravishing your sandwich. “Mercy killing,” you had simply replied, “That girl killed him with an ax.”

“Well, that's what happens when you do stuff!” Lucky Flickerman comments, “You get attention.” He moved toward Pup Harington, the mentor of District Seven, Lamina. He explained the rules of communicuff. Pup Harington seizes the opportunity to send his tribute a bottle of water.

Coriolanus can see through the screen that the girl from District Seven reaches out to get the glass bottle. She has to duck to avoid crashing into the metal drone as the drone doesn't slow down and crashes into some debris behind her. Breaking the water bottle as well. Pup Harington curses and Coriolanus leans forward as he realizes the faulty mechanism of the drones. He can't send Lucy Gray water or food unless he wants to risk hurting her.

You tsk, “These were probably last-minute inventions to infuse your idea,” you bite the dark chocolate he bought you, “She could have done it next year.”

“She needs the games to shine this year to have games for the next year,” Coriolanus replied.

“What's the point if it's faulty?”

Coriolanus doesn't reply to that, he turns his focus to the screen. Staring at the death of Marcus from District Two and wondering what was his sin to receive this fate. All he did was run for his life.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

None were remaining in the auditorium except you and Coriolanus. You were asleep in your chair and Coryo was dozing off. Trying to keep his focus on the screen; in case anything happens. He was nearly asleep when Dr. Gauls' voice caused him to flinch and be awake.

“Mr. Snow,” she hisses like a snake.

“Dr. Gaul,” he said, his gaze turning into your sleeping form before he met Dr. Gauls' crazed eyes.

“Did something happen? Is it Lucy Gray?”

“Unless you can put a leash on your deluded classmate, she might as well be dead as far as you're concerned.”

Ugh, what the fuck did Sejanus do this time. Go into the arena? Then he realized the irony of his thoughts because he could see Sejanus Plinth through the medium of the screen that was broadcasting the games. He was in the arena.

Sejanus Plinth was in the arena.

The fuck is wrong with him! And why is Dr. Gaul visiting him over this, shouldn't she go to his daddy? He was tired, and his body hurt from sitting in the chair for long hours. Why was he stuck in this mess?

“Bread crumbs I believe,” Dr. Gaul said, turning towards the screen in which he could see Sejanus Plinth wasting precious bread, sprinkling it over the corpse. “Sustenance for a fallen comrade. District two superstition.”

Coriolanus frowned as he watched Sejanus wasting the bread in this manner. Stupid, stupid, stupid. It would have made more sense to him if he sneaked into where Lucy Gray was and handed her the food. Instead, he was throwing it on a rotting corpse. Only the districts are capable of this stupidity.

“I need someone to get him out right now,” she said.

Was she implying he would go to the arena for a ridiculous Plinth boy? He knew she was insane but this was borderline dumb. He doesn't want to risk his life!

“You should send the Peacekeepers,” he replied, as calmly as possible. He doesn't want to go. He's not suicidal enough for that.

Dr. Gaul goes on to explain why she can't send Peacekeepers and the district. She even mentions his classmate, Felix Ravinstill. Frankly, Coriolanus couldn't bring himself to care. Let the Plinth boy die, it's the consequence of his action.

Then Dr. Gaul adds, “Who knows? You get him out unscathed, I'll whisper your name in his father's ear. You still want the Plinth Prize, don't you?” Dr. Gaul knew that he didn't need to verbally agree, his expression was enough.

“I'll freeze the feed for an hour. I estimate that's all we have before the people notice.”

Then, Dr. Gaul leaves after informing Coryo that there's a van waiting for him to take him to the arena. He begins to stand up from his seat, getting ready for the journey to his doom.

“You know I am going with you, right?”

He startled, turning towards you, he firmly said to you, “No.” He watched you rub your eyes, you were sleepy that was clear. You must have woken up while that witch was talking. You shake your head in response.

“Don't care. I won't let that bitch make you go alone.”

He said your name in warning. You glare at him with your adorable, tired eyes. “I am going, Coriolanus Snow. Or else I'll tell everyone about what Sejanus is doing right now.”

He clenched his jaw. He grits out, “You could die.”

“So could you!”

He doesn't argue against that.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

A van takes you and him towards the arena. Losing precious minutes that you use to nap. Your head on his shoulder, while he ran his fingers along his scar, thinking of scenarios to bring all three of you alive. He would sacrifice Sejanus to save you. There's no doubt about that. But it's an action he can't afford right now.

So he thinks and thinks. His mind grew increasingly agitated. There's so much that can go wrong. One wrong move. A tribute waking up and deciding that they were easy kills. Caging them. Torturing you. Hurting you. He feels his breathing getting faster, his vision blurring as these thoughts begin to attack.

He gasps, his eyes closing. His chest rapidly moved up and down. He bit his lower lip until he tasted blood. He forced himself to breathe through his nose. There's no time for an attack right now. He doesn't have the luxury of that. He lets the weight of your head anchor him.

He's going to have a future. He's not going to let anything happen to you. And nothing will happen to him. Sejanus will come out of this alive as well.

Snow lands on top.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

He doesn't let you go in. He won't. When you tried to insist, he growled at you, “I won't be getting him back if I am trying to save you. I need to get him back. I can't make you a higher priority here.” You narrowed your eyes but Coriolanus knew you didn't have a fighting bone in your body. Your hands wove into his curls, and you make him reach your height.

“Then you better come back, Coriolanus Snow. Alive. Otherwise, you won't like the consequences.”

He wants to kiss you. God, he wants to kiss you. He decided that he would come back alive from this. He will. He will steal your breath and make you lose all of your senses. He will ruin you because life is too unpredictable, too short. He can't wait any longer.

He leaves you there. He walks inside the arena, the monotone voice announcing his entry with the usual ‘Enjoy the game’. It sends chills down his spine.

Snow sees Sejanus near the dead body of Marcus. Coriolanus tiptoes across the field. Sejanus laughs quietly when he sees Coriolanus. “Thought they would send my Ma,” he said, bitterly.

“You need to get out, Coryo,” he said and Coriolanus wanted to choke him. It was a nickname for family and friends. A nickname for you. And he had used it blatantly for the first time in a situation like this nonetheless.

“I would like to,” Snow whispered, annoyed. “I really would. But I promised to get you out.”

“Why?”

Because I need to win the Plinth Prize.

Because Dr. Gaul forced me.

“Because you're my friend,” he lied.

“I had to do this,” Sejanus begins to explain, looking desperate, begging to be understood. “I had to go where the cameras were.”

Unfortunately, Coriolanus wasn't the right person for it. “Do you think anyone is watching this? She cut off the feed. You die here and she'll say you died of the flu.”

“You need to decide,” Coriolanus huffed, “Are you gonna be a dead body in Gauls' war or do something actual good?”

“What good can I do out there?”

Was it too late to choke him?

“You're smart. You're rich. You care.” Coriolanus argued, “You can do it if you want. With your father's money.” Sejanus and Coryo flinch when they hear noises in the quiet arena. It was the sound of sharpening knives. “We’re dead if we don't leave right now,” Coryo hisses.

Coriolanus and Sejanus begin to leave. Coriolanus gripped his arm to practically drag him away from Marcus's body. Just then he hears footsteps, and he freezes. Then yells out at Sejanus to run as a tribute comes towards them with a long knife. Sejanus and Coriolanus reach the entrance of the arena, Coriolanus jumps over the entry point but Sejanus trips.

Sejanus holds his knee, groaning and Coriolanus runs back to get him. The tribute catches up and manages to slash Coriolanus back. Coriolanus lets out a blood-curdling scream from the pain, adrenaline rushing in. He has to go back. He has to go back to you; you're waiting for him.

Coriolanus’s fingers closed around a two-by-four, and he brought it up, catching Bobbin in the temple hard, sending him to his knees. And then he was on his feet, using the board like a club, bringing it down again and again without being sure where it made contact.

“We have to go!” Sejanus shouted.

He pants, throwing the board aside. The boy was dead and he wasn't sure what to make of the rush he felt as he saw another dead body in front of him. One of his own making. One that assured him of his survival and made him feel alive.

Sejanus brings back to reality as more tributes come in. He and Sejanus run out as the Peacekeepers open the barricade. He was brought to the ground by the weight of a body. He groans as he feels you on top of him. His back was bleeding onto the ground.

“You're alive,” you whisper, your eyes wide, and your lips swollen as if you constantly bit down, concerned about him. He wrapped his arms around you.

He lets out a heavy sigh, “Not if I bleed out, sweetheart.” You take your weight off him and help him stand up. Your eyes take in the blood with horror on your face. He whispered his arms around you, “It's fine. I am okay.”

In the distance, he can see Sejanus approach them and he's too pissed at him to have a proper conversation right now. It seemed you shared the same sentiments because the moment Sejanus came close, you pushed him. He doesn't fall but the impact makes him take a few steps back.

“You! It's because of you and your stupid beliefs that you do nothing but whine about that has led to this! It led him to bleed, Sejanus! How will you pay for his blood!? Fucking get out of here to your ma before I recreate the fucking wound on you!”

Sejanus flinches, looking betrayed. Sejanus looked at Snow but he had to look away because he simply was so proud of you. He was proud that you stood up, he was proud that you voiced what he wanted to say. He was also amused because thinking of your origins, you should have similar beliefs with Sejanus.

But you were simply concerned about Coriolanus, nothing else. It made Snow feel grateful he had you. You cared and you didn't try to hide it.

Sejanus doesn't try to say anything else. He walks with his head down to the car in which his ma and pa were waiting. Coriolanus pulls you back into his arms. “You didn't have to be so harsh,” he whispered, despite the fact he had enjoyed it so, so much.

“Who's the tribute that hurt you?”

“The boy is dead,” Coriolanus glees, unable to make himself look sane. He was bleeding out, adrenaline still pumping in his veins and with you in the equation. He felt drunk. “I enjoyed killing him.”

Coriolanus doesn't find out about your reaction to his confession as the toll of his blood loss takes over and his vision darkens. He goes unconscious.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

He groans as he wakes up from the darkness. A dull pain in his back. He recognized that an IV needle was stuck in his arm. His shirt was off, and the wound was stitched. He looked around to find out that he was in the lab, and Dr. Gaul was present, looking straight at him from a corner. He was proud of the fact he didn't flinch. He swallowed the nervousness, and greeted, “Dr. Gaul.”

“Mr. Snow,” She greets back, her voice booming, “Never thought I would see Crassus’ boy in the arena.”

He doesn't say anything, nor does he look at her. His gaze turns towards the glass containers filled with greenish liquid and some kind of horrid experimentation. Dr. Gaul drawls on, “Do you want to be like your father, Mr. Snow? Then it's essential to accept what human beings are and what it takes to control them.”

For tonight, Coriolanus Snow was a murderer. He had to accept that, he took a life for his survival, but he enjoyed it. He vaguely remembers confessing it to you. Horror fills him, he fucked up whatever he had with you for sure. Killing someone for your survival was one thing, even Sejanus can't hate him for it. But enjoying it? Feeling powerful as he felt someone's life draining out. It felt like drinking an elixir to Snow.

He can't imagine the disgust you felt when he admitted it. He can't- how will he fix this- he wipes away the tears staining his cheeks. He would beg and grovel, he would lie if you bring it up.

Dr. Gaul misinterpreted the misery on his face. “You did what you had to, Mr. Snow.” Then she begins to walk away, a clear dismissal.

“Yes,” he replied, cordially, “I am aware.”

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

He enters the penthouse; he stops in his tracks as he sees you sitting down in the dining space. Waiting for him. It was extremely late at night by now and you were here, awake. Coriolanus was touched by how freely you showed your care through your actions. From the meal (orange chicken and rice) you gave in the car till now. You cared. So openly, so fiercely.

Unlike him.

His care was always hidden. “Dove,” he whispered, a nickname for you like Coryo was for him. Perhaps his care wouldn't be concealed under layers anymore. Your head snaps towards him, and with long strides, you meet his arm. You are careful about your hand placement, making sure not to hurt him or put pressure on his wound.

“Coryo,” you rasped out, “Coryo, Coryo, Coryo.” You bury your face in his chest and for a moment he thought you were sobbing but you were just taking deep breaths in. He holds you tighter, suffocating you, anchoring you like you did for him. He didn't care that it pulled his stitches.

“Hi,” he whispered sheepishly, he forgot about the arena, the murder, Sejanus, and Dr. Gaul. He remembers you and only you.

“Hi,” you giggle back, your eyes teary. “You're here,” you whispered, “Real or not?”

He let out a small laugh, “I am not a hallucination, dove.”

You shrugged in his arms, “Lack of sleep can cause them. For all I know this is a dream and you're still under the care of that bitch.”

“I am here,” he emphasized his words with a kiss on your hairline. He looks into your eyes and sees how real all of this is. He can make you his reality. He needs to seize it. He needs to control his fate.

He realized you hadn't questioned him about the blood on his hands. He was going to bring it up if you weren't. He would let his confession remain buried if that's what you wanted. No need to unleash his demons onto you.

He guides you to his bedroom, but he gently presses you to the door. He has you in between him and the door. There's no escape, so much for not unleashing his demons when he's a devil in disguise himself. He nuzzles your neck and lets out a desperate, needy noise.

His tongue peeks out to lick a strip of your neck. You gasp, your tense body melting into him. He holds you by grabbing your waist with his hands. “I need you,” he whispered, he pulled back and looked at you with pathetic, puppy eyes; impossible to say no to.

“Give yourself to me, Coryo.”

It's your fault. He will give himself to you. Demons and all. Bloody, pathetic, insane Coriolanus Snow, he's yours now.

“Yours,” he groaned, pressing wet, desperate kisses onto your neck, you move your head to give him more space, more skin to mark. He growls near your ear, letting the past high rush into his veins. The hold he has on your waist gets tighter. You were in different clothes, your academy uniform changed into a simple pink top and jeans.

You let out a moan when he bites into your neck, breaking the skin to form a dark bruise. You pressed into him like a whore. You whine, “I should let you kill more men if it gets you like this.”

He freezes. He then leans back. His lips parted to take in breaths, his pupils blown and his cheeks a deep wine red. He looks debauched and sexy. It drives you insane. You don't say anything further, waiting for his reaction.

He breaks out a feral, primal grin on his face. You were perfect for him. God, you were. He let his fingers wove themselves into your locks and he tugged hard. He relishes the whine that leaves your lips. It didn't hurt, no, he could see the same insane lust in your eyes that he felt in his blood.

He crashed his lips onto your soft ones. Both of your teeth clashed against each other as he kissed for the first time in his life. It was in no way perfect. Too much tongue, uncoordinated, sloppy, wet and so, fucking filthy. His blood rushed down his body as he sucks at your tongue, his fingers pulling at your hair tighter, moving your head so he could fuck your lips with his tongue. His free hand went near your neck. It would be easy to take your life, he realized.

He felt your pulse under his fingertips. His hand around your neck, it was there but he didn't put any pressure on it. His lips attached to yours still engaged in a fight for dominance, and neither of you was willing to give in. Each chasing your own, selfish pleasure through the kiss. He disappointingly understood he would never be able to live a life with you dead. Your beating heart gave him the same rush taking a life did.

You made him feel alive simply by existing.

Your existence is his survival.

You're his.

He groans into your mouth as he comes to the realization. He breaks the kiss, a string of saliva connecting you both. He immediately went back for a few more kisses, already craving your lips like it was cocaine, chasing the chocolate taste on your tongue.

You gasp, taking in much-needed air as both break away again. His hand which was on your neck, travels to your jeans to unbutton them. Your hand holds his wrist before he can slide your pants off.

“Am bleeding,” you whispered, your eyes wide.

He had seen plenty of blood today, what's more? “Don't care,” he grunts out, he slides your jeans down, along with your panties letting it pool around your ankles. You kick them aside on the floor.

He buried his face into your shoulder, as you took a deep breath. “Can I?” He asked, his hands waiting for permission as his blunt nails dug into your thighs. Frankly, he doesn't even want to ask. And one day, he won't have to.

“Yes, Coryo,” you consent, your voice breathless and needy.

He was glad you couldn't see the satisfied grin on his face. He ignored his aching cock as his fingers slowly traveled up to between your soaked cunt. He pressed his palm against your pussy, letting his hand be colored by your blood and juices. He begins to move his palm up and down your folds and you moan, oversensitive. You begin to rut into his hand and he warningly squeezed your thigh.

“No,” he barks out, a sudden slap on your pussy making you cry out. “Behave, dove.”

You let out a whine, and Coriolanus doesn't want to handle a brat when he's feeling heaven for the first time. He slaps your pussy again, making you jolt. He whispered, dark and menacing, “Behave, bitch.”

“Coryo,” you moan.

“That's it, dove. Let me play with you,” he encourages as his fingers begin to touch your pussy, feeling up your slick folds, your slit through which you leaked out thick goops of blood he couldn't care less about.

His thumb finds your clit, he realized the bud was the source of pure bliss to you from the way you gasped as he began to play with it. His thumb roughly circles around the pearl, and you whine out his name, your hips bucking in again like a whore.

He allows you to do this, knowing that your brain is mush from the pleasure. He begins to bite into your neck, creating more dark hickeys that luckily the academy uniform will hide. He lets out a groan as he slips inside the first digit of your warm, slick, and tight gummy walls. His cock throbs with need. But he won't fuck you so soon, with everything still new to him.

“Fuck,” you cuss, your eyes rolling back. You would have fallen on the floor if it wasn't Coriolanus supporting you. He fucks into your warmth with a single finger, unsure if he should put another one in.

“More,” you whine and he listens. He gently thrust another of his long and dainty fingers inside of your bloody, wet cunt. He moans as he feels your walls pulsate against his digits.

“You feel perfect around my fingers. Look at your pussy squeezing them like a vice. Will your cunt squeeze my cock like that too?” He whines into your ears, growing desperate, his hips rutting into your side. The friction of his pants on his dick was dry but gratifying. He knew he spoiled his pants with pre-cum. He didn't care. He hears you whimper, unable to answer his sinful words.

“Coryo! Slow down!” You cry out as his fingers fuck into you at a rough pace, he wasn't sure what felt good for you or not. He listens, slowing down considerably, he decides to crook his fingers and finds a spongy spot pressing into his fingertips.

You let out a scream of pleasure, and Coriolanus has to use his free hand to shut you up. He pressed his palm onto your lips, muffling your noises. You liked him pressing into that spot. He crooked his fingers even more, rubbing the spot. He giggles as he sees your eyes glaze over like a dumb whore, your cunt spasming around his digits, close to cumming.

He begins to speed up again, and he knows it hurts a bit for you. He couldn't bring himself to care, your pussy is his. He will do whatever he wants. But as he feels the vibration of your desperate whine on his hand. He pressed wet kisses along your jaw, whispering apologies.

“Cum on my fingers, dove,” he whispered, his fingers hitting your g-spot with each thrust, his hips rutting into the side of your body. He was close to snapping himself, for you he was willing to cum in his pants like a stupid boy.

His thumbs find your clit again, now he gets even more feral. The pleasure borderlines to pain, and you drool, your chin covered in saliva which he licks up without shame. “It's fine,” he coos, “Cum, baby.”

He rubbed at your g-spot, his thumb flicking your clit. The coil in your stomach unwraps itself, ecstasy filling your veins as your cunt spasms around his digits. You cum from his fingers, your mind blank. Your eyes rolled back.

He groans, feeling his cock twitch and cums in his pants. It was surprisingly the best orgasm he ever had. He couldn't believe he came untouched. He couldn't find himself to be embarrassed about it, not when he has to pick up your pieces.

“You here with me?” He asked softly, gazing into your glossy eyes. You nod back, weak. He guides you to his bed. “Let me clean you up,” he whispered, kissing your forehead.

He quickly changed into his pajamas, cleaning his hand clean of your blood. He takes a wet towel and cleans up the bloody mess smearing your thighs. You let out a whine when the towel touches your pussy. You were sensitive after your orgasm. He shushed you, “It's fine, doll.”

And he cleans you up before he helps you wear your panties. He doesn't make you wear the jeans as he doesn't want you to have any sensory overload right now. He goes to the kitchen and brings you a glass of water. He helps you drink the full glass, encouraging you softly.

He even puts a towel under you, in case you bleed through your pad. He feels the tiredness weighing him down and he lays down in bed beside you. The games will be there tomorrow. But he will only have this night with you once.

“You're everything, Coryo,” he hears you whisper, your throat hoarse even after drinking water.

You're his everything too.

NEXT PART

528 notes · View notes

blue-sadie · 9 months

Note

Tsutey learning sexting with female reader? Or Tsutey’s reaction to the nude she sent him ? 😍

What Is This?

Tsutey x Avatar Reader

Summary: he has urges and what makes it even worse your such a tease

Warning: tsutey jerking off

3rd person pov

He wasn't a big fan of this small device you gave him he found it annoying to hold and irritating when it vibrates or dings with a notification.

The only reason he keeps it is because when he's out on long hunts he can go into his small makeshift hut that he set up for the night and video call with you.

He smiles everytime your face appears on his screen but don't get me wrong teaching him how to use a phone is like teaching your grandma how to use emojis or slang.

He gets frustrated at times or he sometimes his taps and butt dials you or starts recording something without meaning to.

This one of his long hunts its gonna last about 7 to 8 days and he hates leaving you for that long but it is part of his duty to the clan.

He lay on his thin mattress sighing out tiredly and rubbed his face before his ear twitched at the sound of a notification.

He carefully grabbed the tiny device from a pouch attached to his belt his eyes glinting with happiness as he sees your name on the screen.

He quickly tapped the notification opening up your chat, his eyebrow twitching in confusion as he sees a blurred squear and a text under it with 'enjoy with a winking face emotion under it'.

His eyebrows lifted as you sent about 4 more 1 being a video he bit his lip before tapping the first one and it felt as is his heart was about to beat out his chest.

A deep blush settled on his cheeks and he can already feel that his loincloth was becoming uncomfortable.

It was photo taken from in between your breasts looking down to your opened legs he could see that you were very naked.

He silently groaned to scared to be any louder afraid he'll alert the other hunters of his actions, his hand flipped up the fabric of his loincloth letting his hardening cock out.

He let out a breathy sigh as the cold night breeze blow of his cock, one of his hands slowly grazing down his body to his dick slightly ghosting his fingers over his shaft teasing it.

He closed his eyes briefly as he imagined it was you instead, he opened up his eyes again and slowly swiped to the next picture.

This one was of you with one of your hands pinching your nibbles he growled internally he should be doing that not you.

He slowly started to pump his cock tightening once every few minutes to make his breath hitch he took his time with the photos analyzing them intently thinking about all the ways he's gonna punish you when he gets back.

The next one was the video and he eagerly tapped play after checking the sound was very low, you moaning out his name made his ears twitch and his cock to pulse a little bit.

His eyes watching your every move as you moved one of your hands down to your pussy clearly trying to tease him.

"Y-yn" he groaned even though he knew you couldn't hear him his hand slowly starting to pump faster as he bit his lip again his gaze following your movements as you started to finger yourself.

Your cute little moans and whimpers only fueling his pumping hand his eyes became half lidded and his breathing more hitched as he could see you were also about to cum.

"Please cum with me tsu" you cried out as the device shaking showing him that you cam he gritted his teeth as his body shook and his cum spitting out onto his hands and thighs.

He watched through squinted eyes as you slowly turned the phone to show your face which was dusted in a light purple and your eyes still filled with lust.

"I miss you" you whined before the video cut off he panted a chuckle before swiping to the last pic and his cock immediately hardening again.

The picture was of your hand that you used to finger yourself and it was showing off the dripping cum from your fingers.

"Oh the things I'm gonna do to you"

Tag.List

@sweetirilly

@greekgods15

#avatar #avatar pandora #avatar x reader #avatar way of water #avatar x reader smut #avatar smut #tsu'tey x reader smut #tsutey #tsu'tey #tsu'tey x reader #tsu'tey smut #tsu'tey x avatar reader #tsutey x avatar reader #tsutey x reader smut #tsutey x reader

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peachesofteal · 1 year

Text

Heartbeat / Chapter 2

Chapter 2 of Heartbeat. Same pairing as Picture and I got you.

Simon Riley/female reader 3.9k words - part of the Sassy series - AO3 Warnings-Tags: 18+ Minors DNI, pregnant reader, pregnancy complications, Simon is soft for you, flashbacks, emotional hurt/comfort, medical inaccuracies, military inaccuracies, violence. You're slipping in and out.

“But not the thick crust kind. The thin kind, well done. Tell them-“ You heard the sound of a door being shut, and the little jingle of his keys.

“I know, Sass. I know.”

“that I want it with black spots top and bottom. And extra cheese! Last time they forgot it and-“

“Sass.”

“Yeah?”

“I got it.”

“Erm, right.” You hang up the phone with a sigh, rubbing a circle on top of your belly. All you can think about is that pizza right now. Gooey, cheesy pizza with a crispy crust. Your mouth practically waters and you cast a glance at the full laundry basket in the living room with a sigh. Tiny baby clothes aren’t going to fold themselves.

You yawn when you finish, little pants and shorts and onesies all categorized and stacked into piles across the coffee table, sorted by color and size so you’d know where to put them in the dresser. You grab two of the piles to bring upstairs, the idea of a nap sounding better and better as the minutes tick on, and you’re already thinking about how you can convince Simon to feed you the pizza while you lay in bed. A twist in your lower abdomen makes you wince mid stairs, and you groan. Being pregnant is for the birds. When you get to your room, you feel a twinge in your belly, this time stronger, and it nearly causes your knees to buckle. Alarm bells ring in the back of your mind. That didn’t feel normal. You try to take a deep breath but white-hot pain blooms across your body, the sharpness making you gasp, and you fumble for your phone, trying to get the screen unlocked while your body trembles.

“F-fuck.” You hiss against another surge of pain, leaning against the side of your bed for support, dropping the phone completely. It clatters to the ground a few feet away and your legs give out, your body falling to the floor with a thud.

The ceiling of your bedroom is the last thing you see before everything goes black.

Soap whistles.

“Shew, Sass. You’re lookin’ pure dead brilliant.” Your skin goes hot across your nose.

“Shut up, Soap.”

“You got a date or something?”

“Or something.” It wasn’t a date, not really. Just a few drinks with another operator from this base. The 141 had been here for a month, between ops, and Price said you didn’t leave for Belize for another three weeks still. You were bored. You were tired of waiting around.

“Who with?” Gaz pipes up from the corner and you roll your eyes.

“It’s not a date. I’m just getting off base, having a couple of drinks, no big deal.” A blur of shadow catches your gaze behind Johnny, and you track it with your eyes until it steps into the light. Ghost.

“You’re goin’ off base?” he asks, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“She’s gotta a date, LT!” Soap practically shouts. Underneath his seemingly innocent smile, there’s a smirk of something hidden. Something he knows that you clearly don’t. You glare at him.

“It’s not a date, I-“

“Did you get going off base cleared with Price?” Ghost tilts his head. Is his stance a little wider? You sigh in exasperation.

“No. I didn’t think I had to considering we’re ‘consulting’ and this is not a state sanctioned op.” Johnny’s eyes dart between the two of you. Ghost says nothing, just studies you. His eyes travel from your feet to your mouth, and heat blossoms in the pit of your stomach. You turn on your heel and Soap yells to your back.

“Have fun!”

You’re sitting at a table, across from your ‘not date’, Johnathan. Very nice guy, communications specialist. He’s spent the last two weeks making small talk with you in an effort to get you here, off base, where he can try to lay it on. Which he is. Trying to lay it on, that is. Succeeding, you weren’t so sure. He was cool, you guessed. Talked a lot.

“So, I forgot I don’t actually know what you’re doing at Humphrey’s?” You bite your tongue. He didn’t know because you never said. You tried to keep your affiliation with 141 off the radar when the lot of you were on a base. You’re about to launch into some drawn out, confusing explanation, but he makes a weird sound in his throat and looks over your shoulder.

“Holy shit. Is that Simon Riley?” he practically whispers in awe. This. Cannot. Be. Happening.

You turn nonchalantly to see the giant man in the skull mask standing in the doorway, Soap and Gaz filing in behind him.

“Yeah. Guess it is.” You’re going to kill all of them.

“He’s infamous. Like a legend. I heard a rumor the 141 was here but didn’t believe it. Did you know he-“

“Aye lass!” You close your eyes.

“Soap.” You grit out when he gets closer, smug grin plastered on his face. He’s had a few beers, you can tell by how relaxed his posture is. Ghost looms behind him like the god damn grim reaper.

“Who’s your friend?” Johnathan stands immediately, extending his hand which Gaz takes readily, making introductions like this is some group social outing. Soap asks him what he does, and starts peppering him with questions, effectively stealing the entirety of his attention. Your ‘not date’ devolves into anything but a date in a matter of minutes.

“Sorry about your date, Sass.” Ghost’s voice rings out as you exit the bar, and you turn with a glare.

“Are you?” He doesn’t say anything, just watches you from behind the mask until he’s pushing off the side of the building and heading back inside.

The room is incredibly white. Sanitized. Your eyes flick back and forth, trying to figure out what’s going on. It’s loud, and there are people talking. The ceiling tiles are the ugly kind, small porous patterns bobbing and weaving above your face. More noise. A ripping sound. And then, another. Cool air. You think you hear Simon, above it all. Maybe. He sounds off kilter, unnerved. That’s odd. What’s happening? Somebody shines something bright in your face and you wince. Jesus. Blind a girl, why don’t you? You hear Simon, again. He’s saying your name, first and last. Not your call sign. You want to protest. Then he says your birthday. Your blood type. You try to turn your head, but you can’t. It’s stuck in something. You feel a pinch. Simon. You try to say his name, but another pinch in your arm steals your breath. You fade away.

Your lungs are screaming, tac vest compressing your chest as you sprint across the building before diving forward behind a half wall.

“This was not the plan.” Gaz says from behind you, and you nod. You knew that. This was definitely not the plan. You were operating so far outside of the plan right now, and you still had not set your charges.

“Look, take-“ shots pop and whiz by your head, forcing you lower. Your low position is a disadvantage against where these guys are sitting a floor above you, and you’ll both need to move in a matter of seconds. “Take this.” You shove the drive into his hand. “And meet Ghost and Soap at rendezvous.” He stares at you like you’ve lost it. You feel a little bit like that too, but it doesn’t matter.

“I can’t leave you here!” more bullets fly between the two of you, and you lean forward to peek, firing off a few shots before turning back to him.

“I am telling you to. I will be right behind you.” before he can argue, you press the button for your comm. “Gaz is enroute to rendezvous location, over.”

“Roger. What’s your location?” Soap’s voice crackles across the radio but you ignore it, giving Gaz one more beseeching look before you start to crawl towards the other side of the room. “Sassy, location. Over.” Soap radios again. You duck around a corner, walking low in a crouch to make your way down the stairs and into the dimly lit hallway. When you don’t answer, you hear the radio click again, but nobody calls through. A few seconds pass, and then-

“Sass report your location.” It’s Simon now, and you can practically hear the sound of his teeth grinding. You were breaking protocol. Smashing the plan to hell. Ignoring your superior.

You were operating blind.

When you come to the first set of joists, you set a charge, fingers flying over the wires until you were satisfied. Fifteen seconds, not too shabby.

“Come in Sass.” He calls again, something different in his voice this time. A low vibrato, the echo of mounting desperation every time you don’t answer a call. Your eyes catch your next chokepoint, the long beam running along the first floor. You’re underneath it in a beat, but the charge is giving you an issue, forcing you to close your eyes and take long, slow breaths to steady your hands. Too long, it’s too long, those guys could be on top of you any second, this is taking too long, it’s- “Sass. Report your location. Now.” You take another deep breath, counting in and out until your hands still and the wires cooperate. “Report your location Sergeant, that is an order.” You rip the comm from your ear and toss your radio to the ground. The pit in your stomach widens, threatening to suck you in whole. Simon never calls you by rank.

You’re blinking and staring at different ceiling tiles now. These are a softer color, like a beige. You think. Everything is fuzzy. You blink again, but this time your eyes stay shut. You try to force them open but it’s too hard, and you huff in frustration. Wherever you are, it smells like disinfectant and bad mess hall food. You wrinkle your nose. Simon laughs quietly in that gentle, throaty way that you only get hear every now and then. Simon?! You really want to open your eyes. Really, really bad. You try, and then try again but can’t, so you try to speak instead. A hand smooths over the crown of your head, and you swear you feel the press of a mouth against your cheek. None of it matters though because you slip back under in a heartbeat.

“Don’t use my name right now.” Simon is yelling at you. He steps closer, close enough that you can see the cracks in the paint around his eyes. “You had no idea what you were doing out there!” He roars, thrusting a finger in your face. “You were operating blind, like a fucking idiot.” Your mouth falls open in shock. “Are you a bloody idiot, Sass?” His raised voice has captured Soaps attention, who drifts closer to where the two of you stand. You glance at him. “I asked you a question.” Ghost snaps, and you feel like melting in the ground. Soap steps between you both, hand out towards Ghost like he’s trying to catch a wild animal.

“Take it easy, LT.”

“-from her too, because I don’t want ya to end up with my ugly mug.” It’s Simon, and you can feel the vibrations of his words through your skin, but you can’t see. Everything is dark. “Hopefully, you’ll get her smarts. She’s really smart. Smarter than me. Good with words, and puzzles. Everything.” You want to protest, but your mouth feels like cement, and you can’t even get your eyes open. “You got real lucky, havin’ her as your mom. I’m not gonna be… as good as she is. At this.” The sound of his voice fades and you frantically try to hold onto it before you fall into the inky black of sleep.

He’s watching you pace back and forth, your fingers tapping a staccato rhythm across your belly. You don’t need to look at his face to know he’s clocking your every step. You can feel weight of his eyes, the searing heat of his gaze working its way under the collar of your shirt.

“I don’t want you here. You can’t just… keep showing up and sitting in my driveway. That’s called stalking.”

“The other night-“

“Was a fluke. I’m fine. I had a moment of weakness but I’m fine.” He doesn’t say anything, just tracks you from where he sits on a tiny kitchen chair. They’re really normal sized, but he dwarfs the one he’s in, jean clad thighs spread wide, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Sass-“

“Don’t ‘Sass’ me. Just-“ He stands and your words die in your throat. You turn on your heel mid pace, eager to escape whatever it is he’s about to lob at your armor, whatever weapon he’s wielding that will undoubtedly breakdown your defenses.

“Sass.” He cuts you off, hands folding over your arms, holding you still. You immediately look at your feet. You’ll break if you look up at his face, and he knows it. “Look at me.” Rage flickers in your blood.

“No.” You step away, slipping out of his grip. “Fuck. You. You don’t get to just waltz in here, after everything, and pretend it’s all okay because you said you’re sorry. Because you have some self-awareness all of the sudden.”

“I don’t think everything’s okay, and I regret what happened. I-“

“You… You’re such a dick. You pushed me away!” Your voice warbles a little and you swallow it down. “And then you did worse, and I’m so… I’m so fucking angry with you. You were supposed to have my back.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t. Your job didn’t get messed with. Your boss and… your… me, didn’t make a backhanded deal to get rid of you! I trusted you. I-“

“I know.”

“STOP saying that.” You’re really yelling now, words flying out of you with no filter, anger taking control of your mouth. “You don’t know shit, Simon Riley. You only know about yourself, you don’t care about me, or this baby, you’re just here to alleviate some weird guilt.” A shadow flickers across his face, and the baby jams his foot into your left ribs, making you wince. Simon takes a half step forward and reaches out towards you, muscles tense.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You grit your teeth and shake your head. “Your son likes to play soccer with my organs.” You tap your foot impatiently, rubbing your hand in a circle. You usually hum, but you won’t in front of him. Something about it feels too intimate.

This time, when you blink, everything feels a lot clearer. You can tell there’s a tube in your nose, and something, a few things probably, are taped to both of your arms. The lights are bright, and they feel like they’re shining up under your eyelids into your skull. Someone makes a pitiful noise, a half whimper, half groan. No, not someone. You. You blink more rapidly, trying to clear your vision, and turn your head from side to side. Where… where are you? What’s happening?

“Sass.” It is Simon. Simon’s here. You try to speak but the only thing that comes out of your mouth sounds like garbled nonsense. “Shhh, sweet girl. It’s alright. You’re okay.” Thick fingers stroke across your cheek. Where are you? What’s happening? What’s-

The pain. The baby.

Your hands press across your body, eyes wide with panic. The baby, the baby, what happened? Simon’s big hand envelopes yours. You wet your lips with your tongue.

“Baby.” You croak, but it doesn’t really sound like baby, it sounds more like abby, or bubby, or something. Why is your tongue so heavy? Why is your throat so dry? You focus on your bump, trying to feel for your son’s movement or kicking. Your chest suddenly feels tight, and the beeping sound in the background gets steadily faster.

“Hey, hey. Everything’s okay. You’re okay.” You watch him look up over your bed, eyes fixing on something you can’t see before coming back to you. “I need you to calm down. Take a deep breath. Just try.” You do, feeling your chest expand a little further and he rubs his palm in a soothing circle against your belly. “Good girl. Another one.” You get a deeper breath in this time, and his eyes crinkle, just a little, so that you can tell he’s smiling behind the mask. “That’s it. Just relax for me, alright?” You hear the click of a door, and a woman’s voice. She approaches you from the other side of the bed, speaking in low tones to Simon, who doesn’t take his eyes off you. When you glance over at her, she gives you a warm smile.

“There she is!” She says as she presses some buttons on the machines next to your bed. You hear the scrape of a chair and feel the sudden lack of Simon’s presence. You try to call his name, but it doesn’t come out right. A big hand bleeds warmth onto yours.

“I’m right here.” He’s sitting now, head just about eye level with you. Oh. You want to ask him what’s going on, what happened, but your eye lids tug low, and you yawn. “Go back to sleep, Sass. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Where did you learn to cook like this?” You raise an eyebrow.

“It’s just shepherd’s pie.”

“Better than a ration pack.” You snort, stabbing the last piece on your plate with your fork.

“It’s not that hard.” You sigh, leaning backwards. Simon finishes too, and then reaches across the table for your dishes. “I got it.” You say, hand flying forward to stop him. Your fingers brush across the skin of his wrist and you shiver involuntarily.

“You cooked. Let me.” He rolls up his sleeves, bending forward so he can reach into the sink. He’s washing dishes in your kitchen, the realization settling into your brain as his arms dip below soapy water with a sponge. It’s so… domestic. You feel like you’re in a daydream. You pull yourself onto your feet and say his name over clink and clatter of Ikea plates and the running water, his broad back flexing when he turns to look at you. He wipes his hands on the dish towel.

“Sass? What is it?” He leans down to catch your eye, brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You whisper, and watch his face, every quiver, every twitch of every muscle, everything you’ve never seen before. You wonder if the baby will have his nose. Maybe they’ll have the sandy blonde hair too, or the deep brown eyes. “Simon.” You say his name, and he frowns, probably thinking you’re about to try to throw him out, again. “I want… I want to trust you. I want to believe you, but this-”

“Give me a chance.”

“How? You… you wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t pregnant.” His mouth abruptly closes, and he stares at you for a few long seconds before speaking.

“I think… I would be. That somehow, I would’ve found you again, pregnant, or not.” You take a deep breath.

“Why did you do it? Why did you shut me out? Why did you have Price get rid of me?” He’s silent for a long time, eyes trained on the ground before he reaches out to take your hand. When he looks at you again, you see it. The fear. The pain. The trauma, rippling across his face clear as day. When he speaks, his voice breaks.

“I was scared.”

The next time you wake up, Simon’s face is squished next to your ribs. He’s wearing the black hoodie, with the hood up over his head, and the civilian face mask. You clear your throat, grasping for the cup of water sitting just out of your reach, and he’s awake and lifting the straw to your lips before you can even blink.

“Hey.” Your voice sounds a little better. He doesn’t say anything at first, just stares at you for a while. It feels like forever until-

“Bloody hell, Sass.” He slumps forward in the chair, sliding the mask down his face and pressing your palm to his lips. You smile at him, but the stupid tube across your nose tickles, and you reach to yank it free. “No.” He grabs your hand and brings it down by your side. “Leave it be.”

“Simon, what-“ You’re cut off when there’s a knock at the door. Your OB stands on the other side when it opens, her face carefully blank.

You’re sitting across from Ghost, listening to Gaz and Johnny ramble on and on about an op that went south last year, too many things going wrong in one day.

“It wasn’t the worse we’d been through though, huh LT?” Johnny laughed, ribbing the larger man with his elbow before catching a death glare. You smirked.

“What about you?” Gaz piped up, raising an eyebrow in your direction. You took a sip of your beer, slowly. These guys didn’t know too much about you, and you didn’t like to divulge too much. Getting too personal with them would be a mistake, you know it.

“I made a mistake with an IED once. It was on a teenager, thought I had it. Two power sources.” You didn’t say anything else. You didn’t have to. The look Soap gave Gaz was enough.

“You lose ‘em?” Ghost breaks the silence.

“And a few others.” Nobody says anything. Ghost nods, eyes never leaving yours. He knows. Better than anyone.

It’s placental abruption. Minor, or as close to minor as you can come without having to deliver, spurred on by your high blood pressure and previous abdominal trauma, risk factors both you and her have discussed at length. A pang of guilt stabs into your heart. You’ve been shot. Stabbed. Blown up. Worked a burn pit. Inhaled a million different chemicals. You knew this, and still decided to keep the baby. It was hard not to feel the weight of your decision. What if it had been worse?

She gives you a sympathetic look as she explains, and Simon traces his thumb across your knuckles in the same pattern, repeatedly. You nod robotically as you listen, fingers curled in his.

“So, I want to send you home, but you’ll need to be on bedrest. Ideally, we would like to get you to thirty-four weeks.” Six weeks of bedrest. You stifled a groan. Simon is going to be insufferable. You sneak a look at him. He’s watching and listening like a hawk while she talks about activities you can and cannot do, things you should watch out for, the importance of keeping your stress level non-existent. Once she’s done, she promises she’s going to get you out of here as soon as she can and leaves the two of you alone again.

“I wanna go home.” You whine, scratching at your arm where the IV port is while beating back a yawn that’s creeping up your throat. He looks down at you and your heart breaks. He’s afraid. You squeeze his hand and try to comfort him, even though there's not much you can give. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

“I know. And I’m gonna take you home as soon as they let me.” He combs some hair away from your face with his fingers, careful not to get them caught in the tangles. “Just rest for now, okay?”

“Okay.” You mumble, already feeling the pull of exhaustion again. An errant thought enters your mind before you fade away. “Hey. Did you get extra cheese?” He laughs, and you slip peacefully into the warm embrace of sleep.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #female reader #simon riley x you #tw pregnancy #simon ghost riley #cod mw22 fanfiction #cod fanfic #simon riley #pregnant reader #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #ghost x you #peaches writes #sassy series

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paper-crab · 5 months

Text

3 times

summary: 3 times Matt helped you, and 1 time you helped Matt

warnings: exhausted college students, lots of crying, sleep deprivation, mentions of not eating, basically the college experience.

wc: 2291

for a chris girl i sure can’t seem to write anything about him

If you were to go back to the beginning, it’d make this an incredibly long story. In your sophomore year of college, you had decided living in an off-campus apartment would be a good idea; financially speaking. You were determined to get out of your parents basement and live your life for the most minimal price possible.

That’s how you ended up with Matt, in a homey 2 room apartment.

Matt was an environmental science major whose brothers had dropped out of college, leading him to finding a new place with one less room and with a new roommate to cut down on costs: you. It was convenient, and out of the candidates he’d interviewed, him and his brothers liked you the most.

He was a quiet roommate, and that made it easy to study without getting overwhelmed with your surroundings. The only time he made noise was when he invited his brothers over, and he was always sure to ask.

In turn, he expected the same of you. Environmental science isn’t an easy route to take, so calm work conditions were appreciated.

Despite your best efforts at improving each other's study time, things happen. You’re human; sometimes you get overwhelmed.

Three times Matt helped you, and one time that you helped him.

One

It was a random Tuesday evening of your first semester. You were stacked with homework for a music class; a required elective credit that was far too demanding. You were juggling an essay on the history of jazz, a report on a classical concert the college orchestra had done, and a small quiz on musical notation.

To put it simply, you felt fucked.

You were itching to take a break, feeling the tears flood your eyes, but you just opened the next tab- opting to finish your jazz essay rather than prioritize your well being. It’s funny how college does that to you.

You start typing, the clacking of the keys feeling entirely too loud. They were sticking in odd places, and the words just wouldn’t flow smoothly.

When you reread what you’d typed, it just felt wrong; like when you trip over a tiny pebble instead of smoothly kicking it to the side.

You switch tabs, to the concert report. A minimum of 3 pages accepted, and you have half of a page. Seriously, what are you even supposed to say? You only have so many ways to describe the resonance of the string section before it becomes entirely too repetitive and meaningless to your report. Now it’s not just the keys that are wrong, the brightness of the screen is beginning to bother you, but if you turn it down you can’t seem to see well enough.

It felt wrong; like when you see a perfect pile of leaves and go to step on them, but rather than hearing the satisfying crunch of leaves, you’re left with some wet mush stuck to the bottom of your boots.

You switch tabs, the tears threatening to spill out. Your vision blurs slightly as you open the quiz and begin reading the questions.

What the hell does this even mean?

Still, you trudge through, clicking random answers and praying to some god that you get about 80%.

When you finish with only 10 of the 15 questions being right, you’re a push away from breaking down.

“Can I come in?” Matt knocks. You want to nod, not trusting your voice to carry your words, but he can’t see you. “Yeah.” You say, voice slightly cracking. He opens the door, not expecting what he sees; you, sitting at your desk, an abundance of tears about to tip over.

Surprised, he hesitates, then asks, “What’s wrong?” in the softest voice you’ve ever heard. That’s all it takes for the sobs to begin, while you choke out some form of an explanation.

“Everything’s just… not right. I’m overwhelmed, I don’t understand my assignments; I’m lost.”

He listens attentively, stepping closer to you as you pour out your feelings, offering a comforting presence. “I’m sorry,” You say, too upset to be embarrassed to be seen in this state.

“It’s okay,” He says soothingly, placing a hand on your shoulder. “We can figure this out together. What class is it for?”

When you tell him, his eyes light up. “I think Chris took that one before he dropped out! Let me ask him to send over some of the work.”

“You don’t have to do that,” You start to say, but when he sees the tears get a little lighter, he decides it’s worth it. “I want to help.” His expression softens more, as if that’s possible. “Now relax a bit, we can do this.”

Two

The second time he helps you, you’re cramming a week before midterms. Realistically, you know you have time before it becomes a critical do or die situation, but that doesn’t do much to quell the panic rising in your chest.

You’ve done the required work, you know, so you should pass your midterms without a hitch. You reflect on the work you’ve done, hoping it’d help you gain some confidence, but it manages to do the opposite.

‘Maybe I should have done more?’ You think, self doubt and anxiety begin to creep into your head. Your hands start to feel clammy, and the pages of the textbook stick together a bit; it makes it that much more difficult to read.

You just feel stuck, like a jammed zipper in your favorite hoodie.

“Hey,” Matt walks in, not looking up. “We’re ordering Wingstop, you want something?”

“No.” You sniffle, expecting him to turn around and leave.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me.” He says, sweetly, pocketing his phone. You wipe away a little tear, trying your best to chuckle and lighten the mood. “Stressed over midterms. You know how it is.”

“Yeah, I get it. You’ve got time for a break though, right? Choose your favorite flavor, my treat, and come watch a movie with us, okay?”

You stand up from your squeaky desk chair and shoot him a smile. “That sounds nice. I could use a break, thanks Matt.”

“Of course.” He tells you, outstretching his arms. “Any time.”

The gesture makes your heart melt, and you feel overwhelming gratitude. “I appreciate it. Let’s make it a movie night then.”

Three

The third time Matt helps you is the one you hold closest to your heart.

You’re struggling with a group project for a business class you took; regrettably. You’ve messaged the group chat you made at least three times to no avail.

“There’s a frat party tonight, can’t make it” or “I’m not feeling well today, won’t be there.”

All you’re trying to do is get the group together so you don’t have to assign work to them like a kindergarten teacher. So, on top of your regular coursework, you’re stuck dealing with 3 other adults acting like 5 year olds.

You’re ready to rip out your hair.

Making one last ditch effort to save your sanity, you send out another, more pushy, text to the group this time. When you’re left on read by all 3 members, you groan loudly. You check over the assignment and do the work of putting it into parts, allocating each member of your group a task.

You give yourself the hardest part, because obviously, these people are incompetent. You shake your head, drafting a second message to the group chat that informs them of their role.

Suddenly, the two week deadline doesn’t feel like it’s closing in as quickly. You allow yourself to relax, receiving some thumbs up from your group members.

A week and a half later, you feel ready to assemble each part into a final project. It could be postponed, but if everyone was done, why not turn it in early? You send a message asking for everyone’s part of the assignment, and only one person responds, sending her part of the assignment.

You try not to stress about it, reasoning that there are 3 more days until it’s due. Maybe they’re just a little behind; so, you ask the next day, and the next, with no replies.

The night before it’s due, you realize you’re going to have to do the 2 slackers parts yourself. You text the other girl who did her part, asking if she can do an extra one. When she tells you she doesn’t have time, you want to explode.

“I don’t have time either jackass!” You say out loud, resisting the urge to type out a strongly worded text.

Your professor is known for being ruthless, especially when it comes to group projects, and you can’t afford anything lower than a C+ on it without your overall grade being tanked.

You break out in a cold sweat, opening several tabs on your computer as you begin to work on the missing pieces of your homework. There’s a reason you were given 3 weeks and not just one day to finish the work, and that was as a group.

You can’t help but begin bawling, still trying to see through the screen. The words were all fuzzy through the hazy mist of tears veiled over your eyes.

Your sobs aren’t even choked at this point, the familiar feeling of being overburdened taking over again.

Matt can hear, and feel, your frustration from his spot on the living room couch. He immediately stands up, concernedly making his way to your room.

He offers three quick knocks. “It’s me,”

“Come in.” You tell him, your voice quiet and strained.

Matt enters with a tender look. “How can I help?” He asks, not even questioning your distressed state.

“Don’t worry about it, I don’t need to make your life harder too.” You try to sound confident in your decision, but your voice falters.

“Just tell me what’s going on, I’m positive that I can help you. That’s what friends are for,” He offers a gentle smile, stepping closer to you. When you explain the situation, he feels angry for you. “That’s dicked,”

“Tell me about it. Now I’m stuck doing it all, and it’s so much work.”

“Let me do half of it.”

“Matt, I really can’t ask you to do that. I’m sure you’ve got something better to do.”

“Nothing better to do than help you.” He says, grabbing one of your hands. “Let’s get comfy and finish this shit.”

Matt stayed up with you until 3 in the morning to finish that god forsaken assignment. When you were done with the work, you turned it in and cuddled into Matt, falling asleep quickly.

“Thank you,” You whispered

“Of course.”

One

To put it lightly, Matt was stressed. He was juggling his regular coursework, along with the added pressure of finding applicable internships. His dark circles were getting worse, making his lack of sleep apparent. His hair was messier than usual, and he was sure his clothes were beginning to stink. He had been glued to his bed, several textbooks scattered on the surface.

His laptop was open, overflowing with tabs containing internship applications, and the smell of coffee and abundance of energy drink cans was not helping to clear his mind.

You didn’t know what to do to help him.

“Hey, I’m going out. Can I bring you anything back?” You ask, eyes roaming his face and body.

“No, I’m good.” He says, not even stopping to look up at you. You frown.

“Okay…” You say skeptically, dragging out the ‘y’. You leave the house, still struggling to get Matt’s pitiful appearance out of your mind. Your friends can tell you’re far off, in another world. You’re distracted, thinking of what you can do to help alleviate some of the weight on Matt’s shoulders; like he always does for you.

“I’m gonna head out,” You tell your friend, offering her a sympathetic look. Normally, she’d stop to argue with you, but you’ve been off. On your way home, you stop by Matt’s favorite restaurant, taking extra care to order his meal exactly the way he likes it.

When you get back, he’s in the exact same position as he was earlier, give or take a few new energy drink cans. He looks miserable, and you’re willing to bet he feels even worse.

“I got you some food,” You say in a sing-song tone, trying to get him to acknowledge you.

“Great.” He says, nose still buried in one of his many text books. He still doesn’t look up.

You place the food on his nightstand, leaving the room to grab a trash bag so you can pick up his litter. He doesn’t even notice that you entered the room.

“Matt, you need to eat. It’s going to get cold.”

“Can’t.” He mumbles, voice weak with exhaustion.

You throw the trash bag out of the room, turning back to face Matt.

“Matt, please? When was the last time you ate, or slept, or moved from this spot.” You ask, concern shining through. When he finally looks up, you notice how bloodshot his eyes are, as they begin to fill with tears. “I don’t know,”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” You say, crawling over to him, careful not to mess up his organized chaos. He buries his head in your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist as he audibly begins to cry.

“It’s okay, Matt. Take a break, you need to eat and drink some water, and take a nap.” You tell him, “You’re not a failure for needing to pause and take care of yourself.”

“I don’t have time,” He tells you, lifting his heavy head from your neck. “I can’t.”

“You do have time, Matt. Let me help you like you help me.”

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader

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yoongsgguktae · 1 year

Text

paddle with me 02 | jjk

summary; jeongguk needs time to navigate his feelings. he’s strongly attracted to you—that he knows—but the torment you’ve put him through for years is hard to get over. pairing; jeongguk x reader genre; campcounselor!au | e2l | rivals | smut rating; M (18+) word count; 13.7k+ warnings; mentions of alcohol, cussing, outdoor intercourse, unprotected sex, oral sex betas; thank you thank you to @breadoffoxy and a friend of mine for reading through my first and second drafts. and thank you to @cutechim and @hobeemin for reading my outline so so long ago! i cherish you all 💜 a/n; IT’S BEEN 2 WHOLE YEARS, but it is finally here. Thank you for being patient with me, and thank you in advance for reading. I would recommend reading part 1 of paddle with me as a refresher since it’s been so long lmao.

PART ONE MASTERLIST READ ON AO3

—

Jeongguk scarcely notices the images on the canvas, everything is a blur, and the movie is reduced to a low hum in the background. His sights are trained on the poorly hung piece of fabric, but he is too distracted to focus on the scenes unfolding before him. The large linen sheet he is blankly staring at sags against the exterior of the dining hall. Its corners are loose, causing wrinkles to litter the images that dance across its surface, but no one seems to care enough as the camp counselors are all entranced by the movie before them.

They are seated outside watching a film under the clear night sky, another team bonding activity Namjoon likes so much. Yoongi had set up a projector and a surround sound system he brought from home while Hoseok and Jin hung the makeshift screen earlier that evening. The celebratory movie night is well underway with popcorn, alcoholic drinks, and small bursts of laughter.

Jeongguk shifts in his seat, and the bean bag slumps with his change in weight as he moves. He has been harboring a growing boner that has become increasingly uncomfortable under the constraints of his pants. His hand unconsciously passes over his bulge as his imagination runs wild with thoughts of your legs around his waist. He is captivated by the memory of your flowy skirt riding up your thighs as you moved in front of him all day while running the seminars since morning.

He barely focused on the standard discussions about staff policies, camp schedules, and safety protocols. For one, he has attended them for the past few years, and Namjoon insists everyone must attend every year regardless, but he was also aggravated once he learned that you were leading the seminars, the ones he used to do.

He remembered his lips lifted in displeasure as he lowered his gaze to the ground when you stood up to lead the discussions. Jeongguk was close to taking off to get some air, yet after catching your remorseful gaze a few times during your presentation, he realized you were not the problem—it was him. You had apologized, and there was no reason for him to be upset with you when it was not your fault anyway. You were asked to run them this year.

Jeongguk broke from his irritated stupor when you stopped mid-sentence during the discussion to bend forward and pick up your dropped pen. His eyes immediately traveled down your shirt, staring at the exposed tops of your breasts and sucking in his bottom lip as you stood straight. His tiny bit of annoyance faded as quickly as his dick started to harden. His attention had strayed entirely from the seminar discussions before him to lusting for you again.

The movie continues to play on the improvised screen before him, yet Jeongguk is far away. He is lost in his memory of you from earlier today, one that is about you in that skirt you have been wearing. His mouth hangs open, his jaw slack, and his palm unknowingly caresses his erection while zoned out.

Jeongguk comes to, mouth closing shut as he gulps. He adjusts his posture, sitting up a bit straighter while turning his gaze to the right, towards where you are sitting, with a large blanket across your legs. His eyes move up your figure to see the faint outline of a bruised mark on your neck. One edge of his lips turn up as his gaze sets heavy on the hickey, memories of him giving it to you. The sight alone gets him excited.

You are momentarily distracted from the film when you see movement in your periphery. The slight shift catches your attention since everyone has remained motionless, entranced with the film. You do not have to think twice, already knowing who it is. Feeling a set of eyes boring into the side of your face, almost palpable with how unrelenting his stare is.

Eyes never stray from the screen; you focus on the action in front of you. Your attempt to ignore him succeeds when you sense him shift his gaze back to the film. A brief moment of relief washes over you before you suddenly feel it again.

Is there something on your face? Why is he staring so hard? This time you cannot hold back your curiosity. You peer over at him in confusion, meeting his eager gaze immediately.

He raises his eyebrows, lips parting to swipe his tongue across them sensually. Your gaze slips downward to catch the slow movement, feeling a rush of warmth flood your cheeks. You feel weak at that small gesture, your body fully aware of his intentions. Your eyes close momentarily to regroup your senses before you level your gaze back with his. Eyebrows knitted, you mouth a ‘what’.

His smirk grows, the mischievous glint in his eyes more apparent. Jeongguk motions his head with a short nod and his eyes move in the direction of the small shed behind the group. A shed that lays untouched for most of the season until the grass needs to be mowed or when tools are sought out. It sits concealed by some overgrown bushes across the lawn, out of the way, and tucked in the corner of the main campground. A place very few people venture off to.

Your eyes widen when Jeongguk shifts in his seat, doing his best to rise without a sound. The bean bag slides underneath him, and he stands with caution. Not a single person becomes aware of his movements. You two are the only ones playing this dangerous game.

He starts to make his way toward the shed, giving you a sultry wink as he walks past you. Your face flushes once again. He wants you to join him.

Your eyes dart forward to the back of the heads of those in front of you, all too immersed in the film to notice Jeongguk leaving. A slight hint of panic rises in your stomach. You are afraid someone will discover him sneaking off, that he will be caught in the act.

After a few moments, with no one noticing his departure, you slowly get up from your cushioned lawn chair. You do not know where the confidence boost came from, but you have already committed to following Jeongguk’s example. The light blanket in your lap is abandoned onto your seat before you approach his direction with soft footsteps, proceeding to walk across the open field.

A fallen branch snaps under the weight of your foot, halting your movement as you let out a curse under your breath. The untimely coincidence occurred when the movie went silent; such terrible timing on your part. Increased awareness of your surroundings has you still, unmoving, and even holding your breath in case anyone hears. Once the movie volume picks up again, you turn around slowly with your feet planted on the ground expecting to see someone looking your way. All eyes are still on the screen during one of the intense scenes of the movie. You release a small breath and quietly rush towards the shed, not wanting to chance getting caught.

Your shadow bounces off the side of the shed. The movie illuminates a frantic and hurried outline of your movements as you swiftly head toward it. You turn the corner of the structure and make your way to the entrance. The rough texture of the rusty old door handle is hard against your palm. You pull it open while praying the hinges do not creak. With one step inside, your tongue can taste the dust in the air. It is dark and musty, clearly untouched for some time. Your vision starts to adjust to the darkness of the space.

You turn back to face the door, pulling it shut towards you. The hardware latches with a click just as an arm wraps around your front. A small yelp escapes you in shock when a hand snakes under your shirt while the other slams against the door right past your head. “You know, makeup doesn’t do much to cover that hickey of yours.” The words are close to your ears, almost like a shared whisper between two lovers, but the press of his body is aggressive.

Jeongguk has you cornered, his chest pressing his full weight on your back while he pins you against the door. His thumb starts drawing circles on your skin, sending chills up your body, his fingers slightly cold to the touch. In contrast, his warm breath crawls against your collarbone while he noses up your neck.

You lick your own lips, reminiscing how you received it in the first place. “It’s been four days and this thing hasn’t gone away.” The feel of his smile is warm as he drags his mouth over your skin. You continue, “It doesn’t help that you keep attacking the same spot either.” The hot breath of his chuckle makes you flush in excitement. It is almost like a threat, like he wants nothing more than to put you through this agony. He is having fun with this torture he is inflicting on you.

With one hand still roaming your stomach, he brings his other to his lips. His tongue spreads his saliva across his finger as he licks his thumb. Grabbing your nape with care, Jeongguk starts to rub the black and blue area you poorly tried to hide with concealer. This process is repeated before he brings you flush against his front and his mouth connects with the sensitive area once again.

A wince of pain pushes past your lips; he is relentless with his sucking. “I quite like it on you. It looks good,” he states before returning to the same spot after you crane your neck to give him more access, your body inevitably responding to his touch.

The attention to your neck has you light-headed, vision blurry as your eyes flutter shut, and the sensation runs down your body. Your head—clear of any and all thoughts—is full of just him and the feeling of his weight against you. His movements feel urgent and brazen, as if he is trying to prove a point.

Then the faint memory of this morning gnaws at your subconscious momentarily. You had glanced his way the moment you stood up. His jaw was sealed tight, probably from gritting his teeth, and he had cut his gaze from you the moment you locked eyes.

“You know it wasn’t my idea to present at the seminars this morning,” you whisper, “I should have made Namjoon give you the role of presenter since I know you’ve always done them.”

His palms graze along your body, slipping under your skirt, and Jeongguk hears your breath hitch as he reaches the curve of your ass. He gives it a squeeze, a warning to stop talking about it. His lips stop trailing down your neck, “It’s fine.” He focuses on your bare shoulder, lips grazing your tender skin.

“I could tell you were upset.”

Jeongguk huffs and his hold on you tightens, “I was not.”

He does not want to concede to your ridiculous accusations.

“Yes, you were,” you insist.

You push back against his body, and the attempt to get him to loosen his hold on you is futile. He effortlessly has the advantage with his large stature. Then again, the moment he feels your ass graze the bulge he has been carrying, he involuntarily relaxes his hold, letting out a hiss at the contact. Fuck, it is the simple things that set him off with you.

Jeongguk’s large hands spin you around, and your back connects with the door. His head lowers to your height, eyes boring into your gaze, and you cannot help but hold your breath.

“I said it’s fine. Drop it,” he spits through his teeth.

His hot breath fans across your face, and you can feel the annoyance radiating off his body in waves. He is being stubborn again, bottling up the emotions that hinder him from being honest with you. You roll your eyes with a heavy sigh. “You know, you should stop being so uptight and just accept my apology. I’m trying to say sorry.”

“Uptight?” His deep chuckle has the hairs on your arms stand on end. He rakes one hand through his hair and looks away momentarily. The sharp angle of his jaw is more pronounced while he clenches his jaw.

You yelp as Jeongguk suddenly tugs you off the door by your hips, whirling you around to shove you against the adjacent wall. One hand comes up to grab the back of your neck, forcibly angling your head to meet his eyes. “I said to drop it because I don’t care.”

You observe him while he holds you in place. His breathing has gotten more ragged, and you know you are the cause of it because of your persisting attitude. You have always been good at pushing him till he breaks, and you are not stopping now. “You are a terrible liar,” you whisper.

His eyes close shut, lashes fanning his cheeks, and he exhales through his nose. “I swear to God,” he pierces you with a maddening glare, only getting closer. He continues with his lips right above yours, “open your mouth again and I’ll walk out of here. Boner and all.”

The man is trying to have his way with you, and all you are doing is babbling. You need him just as much as he needs you right now, and there is no way you are leaving here without having him first.

Your hands grapple with the front of his shirt and wrench him forward. His lips meet yours instantly, mouths slotting over one another’s in a fervent kiss. The grip along your nape loosens as he winds his digits in your hair, and the stroke of fingertips along your scalp has you sighing into his mouth.

Jeongguk nuzzles his knee between your legs, his thigh coming to sit in the middle of yours, and caresses your clothed cunt as he thrusts it against you. Your needy moan compels him to press even harder, urging more strained pants to fill the tiny expanse of the shed while your tongues continue to entangle.

The cramped space is layered with dust and old grass clippings; it was the closest yet furthest spot to sneak away to without being noticed. There are better places to hook up, but it beats the abandoned outhouse from yesterday. He was desperate to get you away when he laid eyes on your form this morning; the skirt you have on fits your curves just right. He could not wait until the movie ended to have you since he has been restless since the seminars hours ago. The shed will have to work for now.

You let out a shaky breath at the graze of his hand creeping underneath your skirt again. The tips of his fingers skim up your thighs, briefly brushing over your pussy, making you whine until he meets the top band of your underwear. His fingers slip past the material and tug it without effort, dropping it down your legs. Your underwear falls around your ankles, lying discarded on the ground as you step out of them.

He captures your bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a final bite before he breaks the kiss. Your skin feels hot to the touch as he sets his forehead upon your bare shoulder, taking a moment to get air back into his lungs.

With your underwear gone, his focus is back on your cunt. Two fingers dip inside, and he proceeds to coat them with your cream with shallow thrusts before he takes them out to glide them along your folds. “I love the feel of your slick cunt,” he murmurs against your shoulder. Jeongguk parts your lower lips, his middle finger slipping back and forth on your folds, reaching your clit and giving it the most attention.

Your choked hum exhales close to his ear. One arm embraces his neck, and the other holds onto his bicep for support. His smirk grows wide as he feels your body slumping back against the wall, your legs growing weak at the slightest touch on your feverish cunt. He loves to see you fall apart on his fingers.

The heavy pants escalate the moment he dives into your warm center again. One, two, then three fingers pulsate against your wall. He thrusts and curls them at a leisurely pace while your breath hitches. In response, you claw his back, and he can feel your nails digging and dragging across the heat of his skin. Your markings are proof of the pleasure he gives you; he wears them like a badge of honor.

Jeongguk raises his head from your shoulder after placing one more kiss on your collarbone. He slips his fingers out, bringing them up to his lips. Your eyes flutter open when he opens his mouth to receive your taste. Lips sealing around his fingers, he sucks them clean while never looking away.

“So sweet,” he moans around his fingers. He will never stop craving your taste. “Here,” he says, moving to invade your cunt once more, “have a taste.” He plunges back into your warmth, thrusting a few more times before pulling them out.

The tips of his coated fingers lay waiting against your bottom lip. Your mouth opens instinctively to receive them, and Jeongguk’s cock jumps at your willingness to obey his command. He presses down on your tongue, and with lust-filled eyes, he watches you suck yourself off his fingers.

“You love the taste of your own pussy, isn’t that right?” he asks while thrusting in and out of your warm mouth.

You groan in response, eyes closing shut as you slightly gag around his fingers from the force of his thrust. Another jolt runs down his pulsating cock from watching you drool. Seeing the saliva run down your chin gets him hot and needy.

In one swift movement, he pulls away and kneels before you. His knees meet the dusty floor while his hands run down your body and to your thighs. He hikes one leg over his shoulder, letting the balm of your foot rest against the delve of his back as he spreads you in front of him. With a broad hand pushing your hip back against the wall, you steadily balance on one leg underneath his aiding grip.

Jeongguk presses his eager nose against your clit, giving it a small flick with a shake of his head. “You smell,” he inhales your scent with an obscene sound, “fucking amazing.”

A small whimper drips from your lips at the slightest touch. You grasp at the window frame, grip tight to balance yourself while your other hand weaves into his hair to coax him closer. His mouth moves over the expanse of your pussy. Tongue out and flat against your folds, moving slowly up down but never quite reaching your clit on the up stroke. The heat of his breath feels incredible on your skin, and you shudder when he nips your clit with his teeth.

The surprise yelp you release is cut short when his mouth encloses around it suddenly. The cruel way he sucks at the engorged bud places you in a euphoric state. It is impressive how he has learned to listen to your body, knowing all the ways you like to be handled only after a few times being together.

Your grip struggles to keep you steady as your nails scrape against the window sill, leaving marks along the old, weathered wood of the rarely-used tool shed. The wall against your back is stiff and uncomfortable as you slide down the rough surface, no longer able to hold up your weight due to the overwhelming pleasure Jeongguk’s mouth gives you.

“Oh fuck,” you let out.

The buckle in your knee intensifies as you feel the building pressure between your thighs. Even with his aid, standing is becoming too burdensome, and your legs tremble.

Jeongguk takes hold of your weakening leg, tossing it over his shoulder. With his large hands, he grabs both of your plump ass cheeks, hauling you up while he continues to devour your cunt sloppily. You yelp in shock at the sudden change in position. The majority of your weight is held up by his shoulders as your back pushes harder, digging deeper against the splintered wall.

You reach out to the nearby shelf crowded with rusted hand tools while your other continues to grasp the strands of his long dark hair. Your arduous attempt to keep steady is all for naught as his tongue persists. The sounds of his feast echo off the walls of the small shed, and you cannot help but gaze at the sight of him while he consumes your clit.

The small amount of moonlight that shines through the dusty window illuminates his glistening face. His lips, swollen with the labored effort, makes him appear divine between your legs.

Your head knocks back against the wall as your eyes flutter close in ecstasy. The volume of your moans increases with each suction of his hot mouth. Your hips start to move on their own accord, following his rhythm, and you tighten your grasp while you ride on his tongue.

The whines emitting from between your lips halt when Jeongguk abandons his endeavor. His head raises, and his eyes lift to your now open and questioning ones. “You need to be quiet,” he says.

“It’s not like they can hear me,” it takes everything in you not to call him out on his trepidation. For someone who thrives in taking risks—someone who fucked you in the outdoor showers just a few days ago—why is he acting cowardly? The faint noise of the surround sound system blaring the forgotten movie can be heard in the shed. He is being dramatic.

His hand runs up your leg and between your thighs, fingers reaching for your pussy. “Don’t talk back to me when I’m the one on my fucking knees for you,” his stern tone sends a shiver through you while he inserts a finger slowly inside.

You clamp your mouth shut the moment his thumb begins to draw circles on your clit, and you let yourself succumb to the pleasure once again. “Sorry,” you meekly respond before taking a deep breath through your nose. As you settle into his touch, the subtle smell of cut grass grounds you momentarily.

What started as a slow caress picks up pace, and Jeongguk eagerly inserts a second digit. His two middle fingers slip between your folds, his palm facing downward. The pressure of his curled fingers is unfamiliar in the position, yet the sensation has you reeling in a blissful state. Your lips part slightly, and your breath quickens.

All concentration on keeping quiet is gone when your clit is engulfed by the warmth of his mouth again. Caution is thrown out the window as he keeps up a maddening pace with his thrusts, sending you ever so close to the edge. His other hand clamps around the back of your thigh to keep you open.

With your chest heaving deeply, your body begins to unravel, every nerve erupting at once. Your orgasm overtakes you and you cum against his mouth.

Jeongguk moves his lips softly around the clit, to the labia, and around the seeping hole of your pussy. He is gentle with his licks and does his best to clean you up. He sets one leg down, then the other, and watches you slump back against the wall as he gives you time to regroup after the intense orgasm.

“You good?” he asks, rising from his kneeling position.

“Mmhmm, very good,” you sigh.

His bulge is more apparent now that he is standing. He attempts to adjust his hard-on before leaving the shed. Jeongguk steps back and reaches into his pants to fix his boxers.

Your hand reaches out to grab his wrist. “Can I?” you ask.

He stops short at his attempt. Pleasing you and watching you unfold because of him gets him off every time. He did not have any expectations from you, but even he needs his release after something as explosive as what he just witnessed.

“Yes, please,” he says.

He allows you to pull at the strings of his sweatpants, hurriedly untying them. Your fingers slip inside the waistband, circling around his waist to pull them down to rest at his thighs. You start to descend, dropping your knees to the ground before him; however, he grabs you by the elbow to coax you back up.

You glimpse up at him with eyebrows furrowed, mouth slightly open to question him, but he seizes your thighs and lifts you off the floor. Your breath catches in your throat while your arms wrap around his neck at the sudden change in position, and he feels your nails scrape against the skin of his back.

Your nails only deepen as he abruptly spears you with his cock. Your wet center readily takes him in without a struggle.

Both of you grunt in unison when your back hits the wall again. Legs wrapped around his waist, his arms holding you up by your thighs, he rams inside you. The swell of your breasts peeks out from the confines of your shirt, bouncing with every thrust of his hips.

Jeongguk tugs down at the low neck of your shirt, releasing them for his viewing pleasure. With your shirt under your breasts, they are lifted and spewed out. With eyes trained on your bust, the bounce of your supple tits fuels his thrusts.

The shed begins to creak as the force of his hips rocks you. Pulling you off the wall, your hands quickly grab ahold of his shoulder. He turns on his heels, trying his best to concentrate on holding you upright on his cock without slipping out of you. His feet swiftly kick away a hammer lying on the ground while trying to maintain balance as he holds you in mid-air.

“Hold the shelf behind you.”

You loosen your grip around his neck, arms blindly searching for the shelf. Once you grab hold, Jeongguk impales you deeper with no plans of slowing down. The sound of skin slapping and your collective grunts powers his search for release.

Your tits bounce with each forceful thrust. You look mesmerizing with your messy hair, mouth slightly hanging open, and eyes brimming with tears. His hips stutter at the sight of you coming undone on his cock.

“Look at me,” he says. With eyes hooded over, you meet his. “Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours,” you whisper in response.

"Say it louder," he demands.

"Yours!" you shout.

“Fuck,” Jeongguk grunts. His hold tenses around your thighs. “You look stunning… fucked out on my cock like this… absolutely beautiful,” he grunts between every jerk of his hip. He sputters through his own release, warming your center, filling you with everything he had.

He rides out his high with shallow thrusts of his cock, slowly descending from the pleasure. But even so, with his mind clouded with bliss, Jeongguk’s thoughts cannot help but stray to the nonverbal agreement you struck days before.

—

Jeongguk finds himself seated in front of the sweltering bonfire again. It had been several hours since the group returned from the canoe trip and gathered for another round of drinks like the night before. Everyone is a bit tipsy, a few drinks in, and the chatter has increased while the night sky has grown darker. It is only the second day, but it has become the usual nightly routine while campers have yet to arrive.

A freshly opened can in his grasp while he recalls earlier events from the day. It is his third one of the night, and the light buzz in his head tells him he still has a ways to go until he is drunk. The goal is to forget what happened today at the river, at least for tonight—to drown his feelings.

He had witnessed you turn and walk to your bunk while he was trying to get Hoseok off his case. He did not hear from you again until dinner later that night. You sat at the opposite end of the long dining table with wet hair and an oversized shirt, freshly out of the shower. You were ignoring him, keeping your distance, and going out of your way to avoid him. You must have been hiding until dinner was ready because he did not see you for hours.

You were obviously upset at his refusal to talk after returning to camp, but it was not so much a rejection as it was a knee-jerk response to your sudden question. Can you blame him? The hesitancy to trust you comes naturally to him after all you have done. Jeongguk has spent the past few years loathing you. How was he expected to throw away the emotional wound you have left on him all this time over a single hook-up?

Despite that, the somber expression that painted your features hit him like a ton of bricks, sincerity in your eyes that he had never seen before. But he was still struggling to come to terms with genuinely forgiving you. Yes, he told you back at the river that he forgave you, but the white lie slipped past his lips too quickly. Jeongguk was not entirely convinced that you were remorseful of your past actions—not yet.

He breaks from his thoughts at the sound of your laugh.

You are sitting across from him again, with Jimin’s arm across your shoulders this time. The rise in body temperature has nothing to do with the fire in front of him but everything to do with how you are snug against his frame. Jeongguk’s posture becomes rigid at how you two are so casual in front of the entire group.

The pair are laughing along with Jin’s retelling of an interaction with a camper’s parents last year. “She saved my ass! That mom was going to wring my neck because I let her son jump off the high dive,” he explains as another round of laughs erupts from the trio.

Jeongguk stretches the knot in his neck, irritated. He has been ignored all night, yet you easily socialize with everyone around him while continuing to act like he does not exist. One would think he would be used to it after all this time, that he would prefer it this way, but something has changed for him. It stings.

“She should honestly be the one to handle parent complaints. They all love her,” he continues to say about you.

He would usually be irked with Jin’s praise, but that is not the issue tonight. He observes how you lean closer into Jimin's body as you laugh, your hand slaps his thigh, and Jeongguk catches your gaze mid-chuckle. You waver, sitting motionless like you were caught in the act. He scoffs to himself before raising the forgotten can to his lips, the beer still cold on his tongue. What is going on with him?

The way he downs his beer has the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight. Suddenly Jimin’s arm around you feels heavy as Jeongguk holds your gaze over the rim of the can. He lowers it down in his lap again, using the back of his hand to wipe across his wet lips.

His clenched jaw is evidence of the anger you gather is raging within him. This is the moment he would typically stand to leave, to escape. You are waiting for him to get up and storm off, but he stays unmoving, his attention not straying away from you in the least. Your face flushes with warmth, and you avert your attention down to the can in your own hand, flicking the tab to keep yourself busy, focusing on the sound it makes as you drown out the people around you. The sound of their voices becomes muffled in the background.

You used to gush under all the praise, soak it in and flaunt it outwardly on purpose in front of Jeongguk. But things are different now. You no longer want to be in the spotlight after learning how much he despises you because of it. The desire to mock him ceased to exist the moment he carried you into the water after the most mind-blowing sex you have ever experienced.

The way he gently cleaned you, took care of the aftermath of your escapade, had your stomach churn with desire. A desire to be wanted by him beyond a physical way. His act of tenderness made you believe he wanted that too.

But you were left a fool. His rejection hit you hard, a big slap to the face you were not expecting, and took you by surprise. You were, and still are, confused at how Jeongguk has shown interest in you but then seemingly wrote you off when you arrived back at camp. As if it meant nothing.

It is embarrassing to think you gave yourself entirely to a man who expressed no interest in you as soon as reality hit him. You have concluded that he made a mistake, that he probably regrets everything because it seemed like he wanted nothing to do with you afterwards. It is humiliating how you thought he may have wanted more when his actions say otherwise.

Avoiding him since you got back has been your only escape from heartache. You cannot bear the thought of another rejection. The time between now and when you arrived from the canoe trip was spent hiding in your bunk, but then something shifted in you when you laid eyes on him during dinner. As you locked eyes with him, you became angry and irritated. How dare he use you like that and act as if nothing happened.

You sit here now in front of the fire, him just on the other side, and you want to scream and tell him off.

The group around you start to rise out of their seats, pushing you to take a deep breath to settle the rising anger. You did not notice how long you were stuck in your head and how much time had passed. People were yawning and collecting their empty cans; it was late.

“I’ll grab some water to put out the fire,” you say out loud while the others start to head to their bunks. Grabbing the water jug from behind your seat, you walk to the lake's edge. You squat, setting the jug in the still and cold water. The sound of frogs in the distance keeps you company as the liquid spills into the container. The water fills to the brim, so you tip the jug to dump some back into the lake. The sound of footsteps behind you is masked by the sound of the water dribbling into the body of water before you.

You stand startled as you feel a presence behind you, heart hammering in your chest and turn only to find Jeongguk stalking towards you with long strides. Glancing past his shoulder, you realize everyone has left, and it is just you and him. Well shit, there goes avoiding him.

His hands reach out, fingers brushing your grip around the handle. “Give it to me. I’ll put the fire out.”

“No. I can do it myself,” you spit, shaking your head and huffing from the exertion. The jug full of lake water takes a lot of effort to carry, the weight of it heavy under your drunken grasp. You swing it into your other hand, switching arms due to the burden. He reaches for it another time. “No, I got it.” You step to the side and continue walking toward the bonfire.

Jeongguk sighs and spins to your retreating figure. Needless to say, you are struggling with the heavy load, but you are being stubborn about it. He takes steps to reach you and extends his hand again. “Just give it to me,” he says as he grabs your hand. The jug slips from your hold as you yank it away from his reach the moment his skin touches yours. It meets the ground with a hard thud, the water pouring out of the container and into the soil.

He meets your irritated scowl. “Can you fuck off?” you bite in his direction. Your shoulders stay tense as you grab hold of the jug again, heading back towards the lake to refill it on his account. Jeongguk rolls his eyes and kicks at the sand beneath his feet. None of this would have happened if you could stop being so stubborn. He was merely trying to help.

He hangs his head while you walk past him, taking a deep breath before turning in your direction to catch up with you. With his hands in his pockets, he strolls by your side as you return to the fire again. “Why are you being like this?” he questions.

You scoff in return, your steps not faltering in the least as you continue to walk with him beside you. “Why am I being like this?” You return his question with one laced with sarcasm, and he has to hold himself from rolling his eyes again, a quick-witted response on the tip of his tongue before you continue. “Honestly, I’m a little upset that you completely blew me off earlier.” You move the jug to the other hand.

He glances at your side profile, baffled by your accusation as if he did not hear you correctly the first time. “Blow you off?” he stammers. His hands come out of his pockets, raised in the air. “How could you expect me to have an answer so quickly after what happened?”

You two reach the bonfire, the flames' gleaming light across your skin as he meets your glare. “I need time to sort it out in my head first. I don’t know what else you want me to say,” he reasons. He has never felt so conflicted before, and now you think he hates you.

“Well, I don’t know. You responded pretty quickly to my kiss and fucked me without any hesitation.” His face reddens at the statement, involuntary jerking in response to your words. “Didn’t think it would be hard to get an answer from you,” you continue.

Before Jeongguk can respond, he follows the rise of your arm as you lift the container above the flames, tipping it over and allowing all the water to spill over the raging fire. The sizzle of the wood increases as the fire goes out before only minor strains of the dying fire are heard. A cloud of smoke surrounds you two briefly, but your eyes never drift from his.

“You and I both know that wasn’t planned,” he says, looking away while the smoke settles. He clears his throat, aware that you continue shooting daggers in his direction. “We were both caught up in the moment.”

The container falls from your grip, the loud impact startling Jeongguk and making him face you again. You stand straight with clenched fists and ask, “So you’re saying you made a mistake and weren’t thinking straight?”

His eyes go wide momentarily. “No. That’s not what I’m saying at all.” Shit. “I’m saying that I need time to sort out my conflicting feelings.” He winces immediately as the words come out of his mouth. Your eyebrows pinch together and the corner of your lips turn down, the pain across your face evident.

Before he can apologize for his poor choice of words, you cut in. “Conflicting?” you look off to the side, hands coming up to fold in front of your chest. “Whatever. Go ahead and take your time to figure out your conflicting feelings. Then get back to me.” Refusing to hear yet another excuse from him, you sidestep him again and make your way to your cabin, accidentally kicking the empty jug in the process.

His choice of words hurt you, and he should not have said it that way. It made it seem like he was not interested in you, but you were making assumptions about him that were incorrect and unfair. Jeongguk steps around the container, nearly tripping over it as he follows behind you again in a rush. “Are you really going to act like a child until then?”

You turn your body to face him, your feet continuing to move backward in the direction of your bunk. “You know what, Jeongguk,” with your hands raised, “yes, I will. I will act like a child until you figure your shit out.” You spin on your heels and climb the porch of the cabin.

He scurries to catch up, taking the steps two at a time. His hand grasps your arm before you can open the cabin screen door, tugging you softly and turning you around. “What do you want from me?” he huffs, hand running through his hair roughly. Despite his curt tone, his eyes are soft, and the wrinkles around his brows pull together in worry.

“I would like for you to be honest with me, Jeongguk. Your actions tell me one thing, but you verbalize something else entirely.” You can hear the way your voice sounds defeated as you utter what has been bothering you since the canoe trip earlier that day. You have to force yourself not to pout, to put on a false bravado while maintaining eye contact with him.

He looks away, face taut and lips tight before replying, “Our relationship isn’t really conventional, is it? We’re not exactly friends. We’re the opposite, honestly.”

Another stab to the heart. Does this boy not know how deep his words cut you? “Then why did you kiss me back there if you hate me so much?” you sneer, the quiver in your voice apparent, unable to hold it in this time. You curse yourself for showing weakness, briefly shaking your head while gazing down at your feet. Damn him and your inability to keep your emotions in check.

“I’m attracted to you, ok?” He almost yells, his voice intensifying as the confession stumbles from his lips. The air hangs heavy around you two, and you witness him tugging at his brown locks in frustration. He breathes, lowering his voice to continue, “But I don't know how I feel beyond that. I'm still trying to figure out my emotions. It’s not every day that I have sex with someone just for the fun of it. I’m not that type of guy,” he explains.

“You're attracted to me?” you whisper. Your fingers reach for the edge of your shirt, grip tight around the fabric. You must have heard him wrong, tricked by an over-active, sleep-deprived, and twisted imagination. You should feel elated to hear such words from him, but it simply makes your stomach sink.

He furrows his brows. “Well yeah. I thought that much was obvious.”

For a fleeting moment, the panic you have been feeling returns to your chest, and you feel utterly bare, as if he could see right through your facade and that he would call you out on it. You scoff, “Yea, because you saw me naked. Why else would you be attracted to someone like me?”

The memory of your previous relationship comes forth, an ex-boyfriend who made you feel worthless and insecure. But before you can fall back into that dark place you fought hard to escape, Jeongguk steps closer, pulling your attention back to the present.

Your back meets the cabin door as you retreat from his approach. “Can you stop playing stupid?” he spews with hot cheeks and nose flaring. His blood is boiling at your foolish response.

He observes how you look down at your feet, struggling to maintain eye contact with him after what you said. Your vulnerability is strange to witness. In his eyes, you are the most fearless and assertive woman he knows, but to have you standing silent in front of him while making self-deprecating comments in jest has him stunned. This is not like you.

He can see it now, see the hurt he has caused you over how he handled what happened earlier that day. He brushed you off too quickly, and now you have conjured all these negative narratives about his behavior. Since you walked away after returning to camp, you have had the entire night to create this false sense of insecurity for which he is responsible.

He did this to you. He pushed you away.

Jeongguk spans the distance, reaching for your face. One palm cradles your cheek while the other grasps your nape, fingers gently threading through your hair. He angles your head to meet his gaze. His heart pumps erratically in his chest while you grab onto him. Your soft fingers curl around his wrist, and you lean into his touch. “Please. Please don’t talk about yourself like that.” His voice is soft in contrast to moments ago. The need to comfort you, to erase the doubt that runs across your features, is the strongest emotion he has felt towards you yet. This frightens him.

The warmth of his mouth finds yours without warning, making you gasp in surprise. Jeongguk’s hold of your face slides down to your hip, pulling you tight against him as you kiss him back with eyes fluttering shut. Since the canoe incident, he has yearned to taste you, a secret he would never admit to you—a secret he has not even admitted to himself until this very second.

Your desire does not go unnoticed by him as your hands reach for his shoulder to bring him closer, urging your body against his and erasing all distance. Your body's heat feels so blissful that his fingers curl deeper into your skin, making you moan against his mouth. That sound, your sweet and breathy moan, goes straight to his dick. He has never felt so hungry for someone the way he is infatuated with you.

He moves to explore deeper into your mouth, tongue darting out to flirt with yours while he presses you further into the door, his hard cock pressing into your body as he leans into you. Your hand wanders into his long hair as you respond desperately to his kiss with a whine, tugging softly. He deeply groans in approval at every swipe of your tongue on his.

He draws your bottom lip between his teeth before pulling away and meeting your forehead with his, stepping back to give you room. Both of your breaths are haggard, chests rising erratically as you two try to regain air in your lungs. Jeongguk opens his eyes to see yours slowly flutter open, lust swimming in the depths of your gaze.

The certainty that you want him just as bad is evident in the way a mix of sighs and whimpers involuntarily spill from your lips when Jeongguk moves to kiss the expanse of your neck, and you arch your head to expose more of your neck to him. His lips trail down to your collarbone to leave wet, open-mouth kisses. “Can I have you again?” he whispers into your skin as he continues to run his lips along your shoulder.

Your hands meet his firm chest, compelling him to step back. A sudden moment of panic washes through him as you push him away. Did he read your signals wrong? But you stun him when your hand grasps the front of his shirt and opens the cabin door behind you. Your pull on him almost knocks him off his feet before he finally follows your steps inside your private bunk.

—

You cannot help but feel your stomach drop while you fixate on how he hastily pulls his sweatpants over his hips. His large hand moves to tie them in place after laying around his ankles during your hook-up in the shed.

Hook-up.

You must remind yourself that this is all this is—this exchange of your bodies and pleasure is not laced with any emotions. At least, that is what you have to keep telling yourself. After another round of sex following the confrontation a few nights ago, you two have been discreetly meeting for sex almost daily. It was not an arrangement per se. It just happened. Nothing would have prepared you for this. For one—his stamina is incredible, and no one told you how hard it would be to have casual sex without it getting messy. You can see yourself falling but do not know how to stop it.

Jeongguk’s muscles strain as he reaches for his shirt on the floor. He pulls it over his head and pats away the collected dust. You are simultaneously putting your skirt back on and fixing your shirt to busy yourself. You feel self-conscious every time, never knowing what to say after all the dirty things he whispers in your ear as he spears you with his cock. These exchanges are becoming more frequent, yet you still have not figured out how to make it less awkward post-sex.

He finds your underwear hooked over the lawnmower's handle, grabs it, and shoves it in his back pocket before you have the chance to ask for it. You look at him in question. “I’m sorry, do you want to wear your panties that were on the dusty lawnmower?” he asks with a slight grin and one eyebrow raised.

A flush creeps across your cheeks. Returning to the movie without anything underneath your skirt while his load slides down your inner thigh makes your face feel impossibly hot. How his eyes twinkle with mischief makes you realize how much he enjoys this. “It’s fine. I can wear it.” You reach your hand out, waiting for him to hand them over.

He shakes his head, that smile never leaving his lips as he grabs your hand and pulls you to him. His head coming down next to yours and his mouth near your ear. “Raise your leg,” he commands, his hot breath fans your neck. You place your hands on either of his shoulders for balance as you do as you are told.

Jeongguk retrieves your underwear from his back pocket. He plucks away a piece of grass and holds them before you, encouraging you to step into them. You raise one leg, slip it through the opening, and then the other. You feel his hands brush your legs as he helps slide the thin fabric up your thighs, over your ass, then securing them around your hips.

His hand cups your cunt suddenly, long fingers fondle your engorged folds, and you immediately let out a whimper at the touch. “You’re dirty in more ways than one now,” he snickers before pulling back with an even bigger smirk. He turns and heads to the shed door, opening it wide so you can pass through first, but you are rooted in place.

You are thankful for the darkness as you feel your face flush.

“Come on. We got to be back before the movie ends,” he reasons, laughing at your shocked state.

Feet finally moving, you walk past him and through the opening. Jeongguk follows shortly after, shutting the door quietly behind him. With light steps, you two head back to the makeshift outdoor movie theater; everyone is still too engrossed in the film to notice your arrival. You sit back in the seat you had abandoned, picking up the blanket that had since fallen on the ground during your absence. Luckily, an intense fight scene is playing, masking the sound of your return.

Jeongguk takes his respective seat just as he catches Taehyung slightly turning his head to make eye contact with him. The corners of his lips rise, a knowing smirk plastered on his face as he raises his eyebrows suggestively. Jeongguk curses under his breath, the tip of his ears turning red in response. He focuses back on the screen before he glances to see if Taehyung is still looking at him.

He catches his gaze again. This time, Taehyung shakes his head with the same smirk and turns back to continue watching the film. He takes a deep breath, embarrassed for getting caught, yet he is thankful that it is Taehyung, of all people. Any other person would give him shit, probably stop the movie and make a scene.

The film ends, and the clean-up crew stays behind to take down and deconstruct the theater. Jeongguk observes you heading back towards the cabins with Yoongi and Seokjin in tow while he waits to help dismantle the screen. If he is honest with himself, he was hoping you would turn around to mouth goodnight or even a wave, but you continue with the guys and head into your bunk for the night.

A tap on his shoulder grabs his attention, and he turns to find Taehyung creeping close. “So, how long has that been going on?” he asks under his breath.

Jeongguk’s fingers tighten around the fabric, visibly wincing in embarrassment. Again, he finds himself in a predicament that he cannot escape. He glances around him, gauging to see if anyone else is listening or paying attention to them. They are all busy packing away the sound system or moving the chairs back into storage.

“It’s nothing serious. We uh,” he looks around and continues under his breath, “We’re sort of just hooking up.”

“Oh?” Taehyung says too loudly. “It’s about damn time.” His hand comes down to pat him on the back, congratulating him.

Jeongguk folds the sheet in his hands, smoothing it down and setting it on the table. He clears the doubt creeping up his throat. “Yea, but it’s not as simple as you think.”

He has been struggling to understand the way he feels about you. These emotions are repeatedly brought up following your hook-ups; after it is all said and done, he wants more. But that is just it—more of what?

“Hmm,” Taehyung looks beyond the cabins and into the woods, “Do you want to go to our spot and talk about it?”

The tension in his body releases at his words. What a relief it would be to talk to someone about how he has been feeling. Immediately he takes him up on his offer, nodding in response. Taehyung jerked his head toward the direction of a large boulder at the edge of the lake that had become their designated spot. Abandoning his task, Jeongguk follows behind his friend.

The boys take the small dirt path through the woods, a testimony to how frequently they have visited this site over the years. Taehyung walks ahead and reaches the boulder first, climbing up the side. Jeongguk mirrors his actions and sits perched at the top, facing the expanse of the lake with Taehyung right beside him. The camp is no longer in view, the light of every cabin dims between the trees, and they are secluded.

Jeongguk sighs, his hand coming up to ruffle the hairs on the back of his head while he sits crossed-legged. “I’m assuming you know what happened during the canoeing trip four days ago?” He peers over to Taehyung, thankful that the sun has settled, and he cannot see his face flush with humiliation.

Taehyung laughs, leaning on his hands as he throws his head back in amusement. “Of course I do. That’s all everyone talked about for the next day or two.”

“Great.” He rolls his eyes. Of course, the whole damn group would know about it. Hoseok and his big mouth. He should not be surprised at how quickly the news had spread among the camp counselors. Nothing is kept secret for long.

“Yeah. Namjoon had informed us of his plan to put you two together that morning.” Jeongguk’s head snaps to gape at his friend. “We knew something, good or bad, was bound to happen.”

This was a complete setup. The boys went behind his back and planned this whole thing without telling him. “You couldn’t have warned me?” He looks at Taehyung intrusively and shakes his head as his friend laughs. “Whatever dude. Thanks for the heads up.”

“You never would have agreed to it in the first place. Of course, it had to be kept a secret.” Taehyung sits up. “But hey, looks like it worked out in the end. No?”

Jeongguk stays silent, mewling over the rhetorical question. He cannot deny that things have been going well since then in terms of extracurricular activities.

“Do you regret it?”

He picks up a lone branch off the boulder's surface as he considers the question. The atmosphere around the two is getting more serious now that they’re talking about feelings and all, something Jeongguk has a hard time with. He twirls the branch in his hand as he responds, “No, but it’s more of what happened after that caught me off guard.”

His shoulders slump forward while Taehyung stays quiet, waiting for him to continue wordlessly. He has always been a great listener and never pushes the conversation, which he appreciates.

“Well, first and foremost, she apologized to me. But it was what she said after we got back,” he sighs, glancing at Taehyung before gazing back at the lake. “She asked me where we go from there. About us,” the branch in his grasp snapped in two, “and I didn’t have an answer for her.”

“You left her hanging?”

Jeongguk throws the broken branch into the lake, watching as the ripples race across the surface. “I asked her to give me time because I’m not—or at least I wasn’t entirely over the bullshit she’s pulled on me for the past couple of years. It’s difficult to overcome my hatred for the stuff she put me through. But I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m attracted to her, that I like the feel of her lips on mine.”

Sounds of crickets, frogs, and the occasional fish breaking the surface, fill the silence as he processes that last sentence. The hairs on his arms involuntarily stand on end as he ruminates about your kiss, how soft and delicate they were. However, he cannot help but feel an unsettling churn in the pit of his stomach.

“The only time we spend together alone is when we're fucking. We sort of agreed to this arrangement in the meantime.” Jeongguk shrugs. “We both have admitted being attracted to one another, and it’s been nice and all, but–”

“To be honest, it sounds like you're leading her on though,” Taehyung cuts in, picking up a small rock and toying with it in his hands.

Jeongguk sighed deeply at the thought. “Yeah, I'm realizing that now. I'm starting to feel like I want more,” he admits aloud, speaking this truth for the first time. He has been struggling with this idea for the past few days. The more time he spends with you, albeit it is typically all physical, he finds himself looking forward to the next time you two get to be alone. This time, not only for pleasure.

However, an inkling of doubt still passes through his mind when he considers what a relationship with you would be like. “I’ve never dealt with someone like her before. Someone who would challenge me. I’m used to people being fake nice to me, using me for my status. To have this girl, who doesn't know me or my upbringing, challenge me in every aspect—it intimidated me, to be honest.” He places his head in his palms. “God, I could never let anyone know about that. People would think I'm weak.”

“No, it doesn't mean you're weak at all. She is intimidating.” Taehyung laughs. “She’s a strong woman, and I think that allures you. It’s what attracts you to her.”

He raises his head, hands passing through his hair before bringing them into his lap and relaxing his shoulders. “Yeah, you can say that.”

Again things go quiet around them, while an owl in the distance hoots in the middle of its nightly routine, Jeongguk ponders on that notion. Perhaps Taehyung is right. Independence and assertiveness are qualities he admires in you. However, it was not like that before. He felt replaced when you first stepped into the picture, and he struggled with his jealousy over the attention and responsibility you took away from him.

Taehyung throws the rock he has been playing with into the lake, inevitably breaking the silence. “You should talk to her soon. Especially before the kids arrive on Sunday.”

“Yeah, I will.” He needs to resolve this problem soon. Things would only get messy once the kids arrived.

Taehyung turns to look at him, meeting his eyes with sincerity. “While we can’t control what memories stick with us or not, we can control what we choose to focus on,” he begins, “We can choose to focus and ruminate about past wrongs committed against us, or we can move on from it and make new memories.”

Jeongguk slowly nods, taking it in. He brings his knees to his chest and looks out onto the lake while Taehyung’s words repeatedly play in his mind.

Taehyung rises, wiping the dirt from his rear and stretching his arms over his head. “Let’s head back?”

Jeongguk looks up at him and motions a hand up to him. Taehyung grips his hands and helps him onto his feet. The pair climb down the rock, taking the same path back to the campsite.

—

Jeongguk finds himself alone in the same spot the following evening, on top of the boulder and eyes fixated out onto the lake as he sits with his thoughts. The sun has long since gone down, and the moon is a tad brighter than yesterday, glistening on the lake’s calm surface.

The counselors had called it a night after an exhaustive hiking trip earlier in the day, and he was the last to get out of the shower. He had made his way to his own cabin to follow suit, but Taehyung’s words rang through his head the entire time he lay in silence, and he felt restless, unable to sleep. He had slipped out of his bunk after tossing and turning for over half an hour before he reluctantly got up to get fresh air.

Jeongguk’s gaze would meet your figure as he observed you throughout the hike. He saw how you interacted with others, in awe of how social and outgoing you are. You get along with everyone around you, this he has always known, but he has been more attentive lately. His stomach fluttered when you approached him and wordlessly shared your trail mix with him; the smile on your face when he accepted your offer made his ears hot.

The small action affected him tremendously, and he has not stopped thinking about it since. He is finding that these types of gestures are easy to appreciate coming from you and that it is not difficult to push aside the past resentment he had harbored for years.

He has often caught himself thinking of the possibilities of your friendship had he not been so envious of you. Many ‘what ifs’ have plagued his mind since last night’s conversation.

Taehyung is correct; making new memories is far more effective than continuing to mull over the past.

The rock beneath him begins to feel uncomfortable as he has been sitting out here for some time and not realizing how late it has become. He contemplates heading back and trying to sleep, but the sound of someone setting a canoe in the water catches his attention. From his position on the boulder, Jeongguk can see the camp’s dock extending far into the lake and witness someone climbing in there.

The person begins to paddle to the center, the movement creating ripples along the water’s surface. Who would be out here this late?

Jeongguk stands, stretching from his stiff position, and begins to head back to try and catch some sleep. Whoever that is must want some time alone, and he does not want to intrude. He clears the woods after walking the path back to camp and glances one more time out to the lake to observe the figure in the canoe.

The moon’s light illuminates your figure; he can see your face more clearly from where he stands now. He stops in his tracks. What are you doing out there? He thought he saw you head to bed after he got out of the shower and that everyone was sleeping by this time.

Curious to know what you are up to, he takes light footsteps towards the dock, where several empty canoes lay anchored in the water. The opportunity to discuss the chaos in his mind, the ones he started to unpack with Tae the night before, presents itself at this moment.

You sit idle in the middle of the lake, a place of isolation and room to think. The temperature is warmer than expected; you expected the air to be crisp without the nightly bonfire. Removing your sweatshirt to get more comfortable, you move to sit in the hull of the canoe and use the piece of clothing as a pillow while you lay back to admire the night sky and mull over the current status of your relationship with Jeongguk.

Relationship? It is nothing close to what you would consider a relationship, more like a nonverbal understanding between two people who cannot openly communicate their real feelings. You know this, and you have acknowledged it, but juggling your emotions around him is becoming exhausting. With every touch of his lips on your skin and the roam of his fingers along your curves, you are falling deeper and deeper into something beyond lust.

Yet, you have never felt so lonely, ironically enough, because he may not feel the same way. It is simply an exchange of pleasure; he probably enjoys getting his dick wet and does not want anything beyond a physical relationship. He never gets too intimate, there is little to no kissing between you, and he never spends the night. An unsettling feeling always drops in the pit of your stomach every time he starts to fasten his pants back on. His boundaries are clearly set without having to be voiced.

Jeongguk’s demeanor changes around others. He typically stays on the opposite end of any group activity, as if he is trying to put the most distance between your bodies when around the counselors. He never sits beside you, walks beside you, and avoids talking to you directly. The limited interaction in a public setting is a big contrast to when you are alone. He is all over you, engulfing you in his stature, and you have his complete and undivided attention.

Sex. That is all it is to him.

It sucks. You want more, and it is starting to hurt whenever you get together, but you cannot seem to stop taking the opportunity to have him at every chance. You do not know how much longer you can take this exchange before you regret ever giving yourself to him, waiting on the day he admits not wanting anything more beyond the hook-up.

“Hey.”

Frightened by the sudden voice, the canoe rocks beneath you as you jolt and sit up, startled. “Holy shit,” you almost scream. You meet eyes with Jeongguk’s familiar, nearly obsidian ones. His lips' ends are curled into a soft smile, suppressing a laugh.

His attempt is futile as he lets out a breathy chuckle. “Sorry for startling you.”

Gripping the edges of the canoe, you pull yourself up from the hull and onto the seat as you collect yourself, trying not to outwardly cringe at your obnoxious screech. The blush across your cheeks feels hot while you glance at Jeongguk, only to see him rotating his boat to sit parallel to yours. He sits opposite you, both on either end of your respective canoes, facing one another in the middle of the lake alone. The moon is high in the sky now, signifying how late it is.

“I wasn’t expecting someone else to be in the middle of the lake at a time like this.” You tuck some hair behind your ear, trying to settle the frantic heartbeat in your chest.

Jeongguk places his paddle down before turning his attention back to you. “I saw you paddling out here by yourself. I thought I’d leave you alone for a bit before coming to interrupt.”

“What are you doing outside your bunk so late at night?” you ask.

He shrugs. “Same as you. Thinking. Clearing my head.” Jeongguk pushes a sigh past his lips, a hand running through his hair.

You nod, looking down at your hands and picking at your cuticles while a silent pause settles between you two. Everything around you goes quiet except for the occasional sounds of frogs croaking in the distance. You wonder what he means by clearing his head and why he seems troubled by it. Is he tired of you yet? The topic of his ‘conflicting feelings’ clouds your mind.

“I think it’s time we talk about us,” he says, breaking the heavy silence.

And there it is.

Your eyes immediately move to him in shock, but you quickly divert your attention to the woods behind him, not able to look him in the eyes. With no audible response, you nod for him to continue while you clutch your sweaty hands.

“I want you to know that I don’t regret that day.” he pauses, a blush creeping on his face. “You know, the day out on the river.”

The hazy fog of your first hook-up briefly passes through the front of your mind; now you are also blushing. Your flitting gaze shifts to your hands, the lake around you, and the camp close to shore—you are looking everywhere but at him.

“And all the times we’ve been together since,” he rushes out his words as if reassuring you.

Your ears feel like they are on fire; you want the world to swallow you at this very moment.

Jeongguk coughs, clearing his throat before drawing a breath that releases the tangled knot of words in his heart. “But more importantly, I want you to know I’ve forgiven you. Forgiven you for all the bullshit.”

Your head jerks in his direction. “I—” you start and stop suddenly as he raises his hand to halt your train of thought.

“You don’t need to explain yourself. You’ve already apologized, and I heard the sincerity in your voice. I’m ready to move past it all,” he explains. “I also acted like an ass towards you, and again I apologize for it.”

“I know. I don’t blame you.”

The relief you feel, you feel like a heavy weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

“Can I ask you something?” you question. He nods, motioning you to continue. “That night last year, when it was just the two of us. Do you remember?”

He nods again. “The last night of camp.”

“Yea.” You pause and look away. Maybe you should not bring this up. Perhaps you are reading too much into it. Your mouth feels dry, and the fluttering feeling in your stomach builds as you contemplate the following few words. You return your gaze to him to see him watching you intently, hanging onto your every word. “Why did you let me in? Telling me about your home life, family, and so-called friends. You hated me, yet you opened up that night.”

Jeongguk regards you solemnly as you go back to fiddling with your fingers. That kind of hurt, being reminded how he openly hated you. “Because I overheard you complaining about your mom earlier that night. I empathize with you.”

That night was when he realized that you’re just a regular person. Beyond his hatred, he could see that you also hurt.

“Oh.”

Jeongguk explains further, “I know what it’s like to have unrealistic expectations put on your shoulders, and I thought it could comfort you knowing you’re not alone.”

With your arms cradling your midsection, you look down at your feet. “And it was comforting. You were comforting that night.”

Your mind immediately goes back to that moment your gazes met while talking. That was the first time his eyes were not full of hatred or anger; they were soft and relaxed. He spent the entire summer sending you scornful looks and scrutinizing your every move, but at that moment—the end of camp—you finally saw him like other people did.

The following few words leave your lips without much thought while you lift your gaze back to his face. “If we’re being honest, I wanted to kiss you then,” you tell him, looking down at his lips quickly and then back to his eyes.

“Yeah, I know.” Jeongguk mirrors your actions and peers down to your lips, ones he has become obsessed with lately. They pinch together in haste while your brows crease together in confusion.

“You knew? What—”

“Because I wanted to too. I just didn’t have the balls to actually do it.” He sees the ends of your lips lift, then he realizes what he said. Poor choice of words on his part. “Shut up.” Jeongguk chuckles.

The curve of your smile rests in a straight line after a few moments of shared laughs. With a small voice, you tell him, “I wouldn’t have guessed with the way you greeted me when I arrived at camp.” You look away for a moment, out onto the lake, before you continue, “I thought perhaps we could have reconnected, but you were so quick to insult me that I thought that night meant nothing to you. That what we shared meant noth—”

The words fail to leave your mouth when he grips the edge of your canoe to pull you forward, dragging you closer to him. Your body jolts, but he grabs your hand to balance you.

“I’m sorry for my brash response to you that day. It was extremely immature of me.” He was trading insults with you not long ago, going at each other with no remorse or sympathy. Now he is holding your hand, thumb gently sweeping along your knuckles. “Isn’t it strange to think that just a while back, we were always fighting?” he asks.

“Like cats and dogs”, you quip, “I didn’t ever think we’d be here like this.” You brush your hair off your shoulders and sit up straighter. He can see your mind running, overthinking like you always do. “Where do we go from here?” you whisper.

This moment feels like déjà vu, bringing him back to the day of the canoe trip. This time, he will not leave you hanging as he did.

“Come.”

Jeongguk grips your hands, drawing you to get up as you shakily stand in your canoe, moving one leg at a time to climb over into his. He lets go of one hand to grab your hips, never dropping your hand as he helps you over by carefully pulling you forward, grip tightening as both your feet land steadily in front of him.

Effortlessly he brings you towards him, craving to have you near. Hands moving down from your hip to the back of your thighs to pull you onto his lap. Once again, he finds you straddling him in a canoe. The hairs on his arms stand on end as you snake your arms around his neck for balance. Your fingers feel cold to the touch, making him shiver in your embrace.

Your body is close but he pulls you closer with his hands on your lower back, fingers moving under your shirt to feel your soft skin. The bit of light shining from the bright moon allows him to gaze into your eyes. The silence is comfortable as the abandoned canoe slowly starts to drift away.

Taeyhyung’s words echo in his mind. Leading you on was never his intention, and he only realizes now that he was doing precisely that. All along, he has been thinking about himself and how he may not be ready for a relationship in his final year of school. His life responsibilities will only grow after graduation. Being in a relationship was at the bottom of the list. The next few years are already mapped out for him by his parents; adding a girlfriend onto that would only serve as a distraction.

But everything changed in a span of days. His routine summer camp job did not start like any other ordinary summer; things were different this time. His priorities have been slightly altered after that incident on the riverbank a few days ago. The idea of a relationship is not so bad anymore.

At this very moment, while your warm breath fans across his face, Jeongguk has arrived at the conclusion that he has come to develop feelings for you—that much he is sure about now. He lifts his hand, fingertips brushing against your skin as he sweeps back a strand of hair behind your ear. Maybe whatever he feels is not seasonal; perhaps he wants to have you this close beyond the few weeks of camp.

You feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach the moment he clears his throat. You have been anxiously sitting in his lap for some time with nothing but crickets in the distance, waiting for him to say something as you were too nervous to speak up.

He is playing with the hem of your shirt, diverting his gaze. “I don’t know what the future holds once camp is over,” he begins, “but for the time being, I would like to be with you.”

A wave of euphoria overcomes your body in an instant. Your heart hammers in your chest while your breath hitches in your throat. This time you heard him loud and clear.

“And I don’t mean just sex. I want to actually get to know you better. Like your favorite color, or what type of music you listen to, or where you—”

You cut Jeongguk’s rambling short by reaching for his face. Cool palms against his warm cheeks to pull his jaw upward, so he faces you, eye to eye. The feeling of his hands shaking against your lower back is obvious, he is nervous. “I would like that too,” you say.

Your hands drop to his shoulders now that you have his full attention. He looks like a deer caught in headlights, eyes big and full while he takes in what you said. You take your time to run your fingertips against his skin, up his forehand, playing with the baby hairs along his hairline.

Jeongguk’s hand clutches your wrist, halting your movement. He leans in and captures your lips. You have never kissed him like this before, soft and gentle. You melt into his embrace.

He pulls away, “Also, I’m sorry for being so possessive over you yesterday. I shouldn’t be claiming your pussy—”

��Jeongguk.” You throw your head back, a loud laugh escaping your lungs.

—

The screen door shrieks as Jeongguk nudges it open. He steps out of your cabin, closing the door behind him while you sleep soundly in your bunk, wrapped under your cozy blankets. It has only been a few hours since you two went to bed, but he wanted to leave your cabin before anyone else woke up.

That idea quickly goes down the drain the moment his feet land on the steps, and he hears the sound of someone whistling from afar. Looking up, he glances at the picnic table across the row of cabins. The rest of the group is already up and eating breakfast together, all huddling and scarfing down food, but their attention has strayed from the meals in front of them and to Jeongguk striding out of your cabin.

He makes his way over, shyly walking with his head down and face hot as they continue to holler suggestive comments. The tips of his ears turned hot with every step.

“We all know you’ve been fucking for the past few days. Yall aren’t as sneaky as you think,” Yoongi says. Hoseok snickers and reaches over the table to high-five him as Jeongguk shakes his head and sits on the bench across from Taehyung.

Namjoon slams his cup of orange juice on the table and points directly at him, trying to suppress the ends of his lips from curling. “Once the kids come on Sunday, you two need to be more discreet about your rendezvous.”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes, grunting and leaning over the table with his arms crossed and head down. This could not possibly get more humiliating. But it does as the group continues with the smart-ass remarks and taunting behavior for the next few minutes.

The chatter around him dies down. With full stomachs and chores to do, the camper counselors get up to start their day, leaving Taehyung and him alone at the table. He peers up to see Taehyung come closer, elbows on the table and leaning forward with one eyebrow raised and a smirk etched on his face.

“I see the talk went well.”

He coughs, pulling at the collar of his shirt with his face and neck feeling incredibly warm. It is hard stopping the corners of his mouth from rising, a smile that he cannot hold back. Yeah, he could say the talk went well—really well, but he’s keeping those details to himself.

Their heads snap in the direction of your cabin at the sound of the door swinging open and then slamming back shut. You take the steps down quickly, feet meeting the ground before you look over to them and meet eyes with him, a small smile appearing on your face as you head towards the dining hall for breakfast.

Jeongguk finally responds to Taehyung's observation, his gaze never dropping from yours. “We’re going to take the summer to get to know each other.”

—

reviews are always welcomed and appreciated. really, i love to hear your thoughts.

MASTERLIST

#jjk x reader #jjkxreader #jungkook x reader #jungkookxreader #jungkook #jungkook smut #bts smut #f; paddlewithme

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jaembun · 4 months

Text

let me show you love.

his favourite subject always has been & always will be you ！⠀⸻⠀na jaemin x gnr ⠀ fluff est. rs ⠀ cw tiny bit suggestive ⠀ wc 2k ⠀ now playing . . ☆

생각⠀having nana withdrawals

jaemin was synonymous with the click of his camera.

it followed him wherever he went, on all outings he could get away with, and on the ones he couldn’t he found his phone to be a worthy enough replacement. for him it seemed to be something of a second nature—he simply had the feeling of what would look perfect, of the best moments to snap a photo of and immortalise forever. he barely had to think before he was raising the viewfinder to his eye and nudging things just so until he was satisfied and pressing the shutter.

his collection was a wide one, one that spanned over too many memory cards to keep track of. he kept all of the ones he’d acquired over the months in an old jewelry box some earrings you’d bought him for a past birthday present had come in, and had decorated it in cat stickers and tacky plastic gems and sharpied scribbles in all of the bright colours he could find.

the photos themselves were of anything that had caught his eye in that moment in time. his cats, the view from the balcony of his apartment overlooking the rest of the city, the stolen split seconds he wanted to keep from your trips together to all sorts of places, the food that he’d eaten, all of your friends both individually and as a whole, always laughing and always painted in such a light you could almost feel the love he had for them all pouring out from the screen. it was anything he wanted and differed from day to day, never staying consistent for too long.

there was only one overarching theme, one thing that was always there. the one thing he had more photos of than anything else. and that was you.

you were—in his own words, whispered into your ears on more occasions than you could count on two hands—his forever muse. it’d be impossible to scroll past five photos he’d taken without one with you in them, even if it was something as small as your blurred hand in motion in the corner, the back of your head in amongst a crowded room, your silhouette turning towards him against the setting sun. jaemin’s work revolved as much around you as it did everything else, and he was never reluctant to make it known.

you didn’t mind, of course. you were happy your boyfriend had found something he so obviously had both a passion and talent for, and put in so much love into doing. it only got a little embarrassing when it came to him printing out his favourites and you were forced to look at countless amounts of yourself in all sorts of places in all sorts of angles all while jaemin cooed over and smiled adoringly at them. it had taken a fair amount of convincing (and an even larger amount of affection) to get him to move the photo of you opposite him at your one-year anniversary dinner, a glass of wine in one hand while the other covered your mouth as you burst out laughing at something he’d said, from the hallway where anyone who walked into your apartment could see to the spare room that he’d made his impromptu study.

the only other problem you had with him using you as his main subject was when he’d choose to snap the pictures. he insisted you looked gorgeous in all of them, no matter what time it was nor what you were doing, and he was so earnest about it that you almost believed him. it didn’t make it any less jarring when you heard the all-too-familiar click whenever you were least expecting it, though.

it came when you were doing the most mundane of things, like catching up on a drama donghyuck had recommended to you while lazing around on the sofa; afternoon sun spilling into the living room.

the main leads were arguing over something or other on screen, all in front of an audience of unfortunate extras. it panned over all the clearly uncomfortable characters witnessing the messy lover’s tiff and your eyes were suddenly drawn to one that looked an awful lot like your boyfriend. the scene cut away again, but you reached over with a groan to where the remote had been carelessly tossed to rewind and pause on the frame.

once it had stopped you called over your shoulder towards the kitchen, where jaemin was most likely throwing something together for a late lunch.

“babe, c’mere. doesn’t this guy look just like you?”

you heard his footsteps moving in your direction, but he didn’t respond, and so you hoisted yourself up to tilt your head over the back of the sofa to see what he was doing.

click.

although your line of sight was currently tipped upside down, the sight of jaemin with his camera in hand was still perfectly clear. you doubted your dirty look came off as very intimidating from your position, but you gave him your worst anyway before shifting upright again to face him.

“is it glued to you, or something? i don’t think anyone could look good upside down—and that includes me.”

he shook his head in vehement denial of your claim, letting his camera fall onto the cushions and flinging his arms around your shoulders.

“you always look good, silly. even upside down, or sideways, or all blurry. trust me.”

you sighed and wrapped your arms around his waist, reluctantly agreeing.

“fine, i’ll let you have it this time. but you didn’t answer my question—doesn’t he look just like you?”

his eyes flitted from yours to the still-paused drama, and his face morphed into an expression of vague disgust.

“did you just say he looks like me? oh my god, no. not in a million years.”

you scoffed and pulled away from the embrace, instead patting the space next to you as jaemin continued to pull faces at the unknowing side character on screen.

“alright, drama queen, it was just a thought. come and sit down, though. i wanna see who wins this fight.”

he hurried to comply, collapsing down next to you and almost immediately making room on your lap for his head after carefully setting his forgotten camera on the coffee table. you reached for the remote again, and carried on with your lazy afternoon in the sun.

or sometimes it came in the moments that were far less boring. the second instance (and arguably the worst) that came to mind was an evening after date he’d surprised you with after what had been a long week for the both of you. the lights were low in your shared bedroom as you stumbled through the door, jaemin practically clinging to your back with hands on your hips and breath hot in your ear. he nudged the door closed with his foot and tugged you to face him, his smile clear as day even in the dark.

you walked backwards towards the bed, trading kisses and a brief moment of laughter when he almost tripped over the jacket he hurried to shove off of his shoulders, and the way he cushioned your fall onto the mattress even if you both knew it wouldn’t have hurt a bit made a smile stretch across your lips.

his own grin was pressed into your skin when he felt your fingers fumble with his top button, and he slowly pushed away to take over the job. you closed your eyes, anticipating your boyfriend to return to your space soon, but instead—

click.

your eyes shot open, and there you found jaemin with his shirt half off and camera in hand, grin visible even from behind it.

“na jaemin. you cannot be for real right now.”

he had the decency to look a little sheepish as he brought the camera away from his face, one hand setting it down on the bedside table while the other raised in surrender.

“sorry, baby. couldn’t help it.”

you stayed unaffected to his attempts to lighten the mood again, allowing but not reciprocating the kisses he peppered across your face in apology even if you could see him biting his lips to try and hold back his laughter. it didn’t take long before he cracked, trying to muffle the sound into your shoulder despite his own shaking from the force of it. you rolled your eyes and tried to ignore the smile creeping across your own face, pushing yourself to sit up while jaemin settled himself in your lap, the occasional slightly hysterical-sounding giggles still bubbling out of him.

“you really know how to kill the mood, jaem.”

you weren’t actually irritated, not really. it was more a feeling of incredulity at how awful his timing was, if anything. you couldn’t ever really get properly mad at jaemin if you tried—something he knew as well as you did, and so only laughed again at your jab, cuddling in closer and tangling his fingers into the hair at the nape of your neck.

“yah, i said sorry. wine and a drama instead? we still haven’t finished sky castle.”

and, as it always seemed to go with jaemin, you were powerless to do anything but agree.

but, really, it was anywhere—no matter the time nor place. when you were barely awake, hair falling into your eyes when you pushed yourself up from where you’d been buried in your pillow and shirt riding up your stomach when you reached to scratch an itch on your shoulder. before you could say a word or blink the sleep out of your eyes you heard a familiar click, and groaned.

“jaem. you have enough unglams of me for a lifetime, cut it out.”

your complaint was paired with a blind swat in his general direction while you rubbed your eyes and shifted to sit up. he dodged easily, snickering, and the next thing you heard was the thud of his camera hitting the mattress and the warm body of your boyfriend dropping himself on top of you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder while his hands settled on your hips.

“unglams and you don’t belong in the same sentence, baby. bedhead looks sexy on you.”

you sighed, hands idly tangling themselves through his hair until your gaze drifted to the object sitting ignored on the bed and flung a hand out towards it, jostling jaemin in place. he whined in protest but stopped when he tilted his head up to face you and, instead of you looking back at him, was met with the lens of his own camera.

a few seconds passed without him moving, lying there unblinking until you huffed and jerked your knee up to nudge him in the stomach.

“you’re supposed to smile, jaem. or at least pose a little.”

that got him out of his short-lived daze, and he complied with your wishes; sending you a bright smile. your finger pressed down on the shutter, and as soon as you’d taken it you were pulling it away from your eyes so you could look at the photo. what greeted you was jaemin in all his glory, smile wide and eyes drifting off somewhere above the camera—to where you were behind it. they looked so soft as they gazed up at you it almost knocked you over, and just as quickly as he had earlier you discarded the object to cup his cheeks in your hands.

“you’re so..”

you trailed off to pinch his skin between your fingers and watch him squirm away, only returning back to his position once you’d reluctantly let go.

“so what?” was his eager question, smile looking more like a smirk.

you refused to give in, giving him nothing but a flat look in return.

“gross,” was your apathetic answer, and you had to hold back a smirk of your own when his complaints instantly began. served him right.

and as he continued to whine in his place sprawled across you, you reached for the camera again to take a second look at the photo—at jaemin. you decided quietly then that you really didn’t mind being his ‘forever muse,’ even if his timing wasn’t always the best.

or rather, you didn’t mind on one condition: that, occasionally, he could be your muse too. maybe you should look into investing in a camera of your own.

#⠀⠀⏖ works ⊹ ᶻ ⁺⠀⠀#⠀⠀재민 ⠀ ✿⠀⠀#jaemin #na jaemin #jaemin x reader #na jaemin x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream fluff #big shirt with i ❤️ na jaemin on it

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lunchmeat-supreme · 9 months

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Pick-Me-Up

Stan Marsh x Reader

Summary: When Stan gets too drunk at a party, he calls on the only person he knows who can help.

Warnings: Underage drinking (characters are 16-17), vomit mention

A/N: Been a while since I've written. Didn't edit this one too much, just wanted to get something out there. Read my pinned if you'd like to request something!

It’s a late Friday night. There are no sounds in the house save for the buzzing of utilities downstairs. It’s still outside, late enough that even the owls have seemingly turned in for the night. It’s a perfect night to catch up on sleep lost from early weekday mornings.

You hold your phone in landscape mode as the video you’re watching comes to an end. The silence wraps itself around you like a soft, fluffy blanket. Your eyelids droop, feeling like they weigh a thousand pounds. Maybe it’s time to finally get some shut-eye. Your hand scrapes along the floor for a second before you find your phone’s charging cord. You plug the device in and lay it face down on your bedside table, so the light from any notification won’t disturb your slumber. Slipping deeper under the covers, you roll over and close your eyes, waiting for the thick, sweet silence to lull you to sleep.

BZZT.

The phone’s vibrations against the nightstand ring out like a gunshot. Your eyelids shoot up and your heart jumps in your chest at the sound. It only takes a second for you to relax again. It was probably just a notification from a game, demanding that you spend a few more dollars for this week’s too-good-to-be-true microtransaction discounts. You snuggle your face deeper into your pillow.

BZZT.

Another clap of thunder rings in your ear. You squeeze your eyes shut and tuck yourself deeper under your blanket, as though you can hide from the sound. You’ll check it tomorrow. It’s probably a group chat that you’re in but don’t care about, like one for a class. Whoever it is that’s begging for homework answers this late at night can take their pleas and shove it up their–

BZZT. BZZT. BZZT.

Your arm shoots out from under the toasty covers and your palm slaps against the back of your phone. You drag the little black box of nightmares off of your nightstand, and you crack your bleary eyes open. The screen is bright, too bright. You look at it through squinted eyes, trying to make out the blur on the screen. All you can comprehend is the tiny SMS app icon in the corner of the notification. Blinking the exhaustion away, you focus your eyes on the screen until the little jittery line of black becomes legible, and the small square of bold, capital letters above the message forms a name.

“Fuck.”

You rub your eyes and prop yourself up on your bed, quickly swiping open your phone. It continues to buzz in your hand.

STAN: heey

STAN: r u awake

STAN: can u pick me ip

STAN: ip

STAN: up

STAN: im at clyde

You have half a mind to mute your phone and put it right back down on your nightstand, but your apathy loses the fight against your empathy. You curse a few more obscenities under your breath as you push the covers off your body. The cold air rushes in and seeps into your skin, taking shelter where warmth once occupied. After a simple “omw” text sent back to Stan, you plant your feet on the carpet and heft up your exhausted body.

You don’t care enough to get dressed, opting instead for throwing on a jacket and sweatpants over your nightwear. Grabbing your keys and finding your license, you set out. You pull on your shoes and yawn, not worrying too much about waking anyone in the house. If your parents ask, you’ll say it was a munchies run.

The nighttime air has a chilly bite to it, and you shiver as you step outside and slump into your car. Pulling out of the driveway, you set out down the street to the next neighborhood over, cranking some banging tunes in an attempt to wake yourself up.

You had told Stan not to go to Clyde’s party. You had warned him that he’s notorious for spiking any and all drinks — even if they were already alcoholic to begin with. His dad has enough alcohol lying around in their extravagant kitchen to tranquilize an elephant. But of course, nobody listens to lil ol’ you.

“Oh, I’ll be fine, dude,” you mutter, mimicking Stan’s intonation as you come to a stop at a crosswalk. “I can control myself, dude. Stop acting like my mom, dude.”

After a few minutes of veering through empty streets, you pull up to Clyde’s house. It’s an impressively big place. The windows are lit up from the inside, and you can see the silhouettes of your classmates chatting and laughing. You can hear the party through your rolled up windows, and you’re surprised there hasn’t been a noise complaint yet. The distant thumping bass alone is enough to give you a migraine and a sour mood.

Rolling slowly past his house, your foot primed to press the brake pedal, you scour the area for a place to park so you can bust in and rescue Stan. There are already a few cars aligning the street, so you almost miss it as you’re looking for a gap. You press on the brakes when you do see it. There, hunched over on the curb, is a rather pathetic looking lump of drunk teenage boy.

Stan’s knees are drawn up to his chest, and his face rests in the palms of his hands. He doesn’t react as you roll down the window and call his name. He just flicks his eyes up to your car, then sinks his face down until his head falls out of his palms and his chin slumps against his chest. He mumbles something, but you can’t hear it over the sound of the car’s engine.

“Come on, dude,” you repeat, wishing you had something to throw at him, because from here it looks like he’s totally ignoring you.

Stan still doesn’t react. His hands slip behind his legs, and you can see them twitch with a little bit of movement.

BZZT.

Your phone buzzes in the passenger seat.

STAN: legs dont work

“Oh, for fuck’s—“ You groan and put the car into park.

You step out of your car, grab Stan by the wrists, and heft him to his feet. He wobbles around with all the grace of a newborn deer, nearly taking you down when he leans most of his weight onto your shoulders. You secure an arm around his back and anchor him to your side. You start moving forward, patiently helping Stan along as he stumbles along. By the time you make it to the passenger door, however, you’re practically dragging him like a tired dog on a leash.

You open the car door and Stan slumps inside with a groan. He tilts his chin up and leans against the headrest as you run around to the driver’s side. You start the car and rest your hand on the shift stick, then glance over to the helpless drunk on your right. His eyes are closed, and a deep frown is etched on his face, his lips slightly parted and his eyebrows knit together. You reach across his body and buckle him in before driving away.

The drive is quiet. Houses with dark windows and illuminated streetlights whisk past the vehicle until there are none left. Slowly, the city lights bleed away behind you, and houses are replaced with snow-covered pines. It’s only when the bumpy asphalt beneath your tires turns to crunching gravel that Stan finally speaks.

“‘m sorry.”

It’s nothing but a soft mumble under his breath as he turns his aimless gaze down from the horizon through the windshield to stare sullenly at his beat up, dirty shoes. He can’t bring himself to look at you. He’s scared of what he might see.

“For what?”

“Makin’ you come get me.”

Your sleep-deprived brain considers making a grumpy remark at the situation, but you can’t. Not to him. You let out a sigh. “I’ll always come, dude.”

Stan doesn’t say anything back, but his jaw relaxes and his eyelids rise from their fallen state.

Through a field of wavering green, a house comes into view. You pull up to the quaint porch and park the car. A rustic lantern with a fake candle inside glows warmly next to the door, and an old rocking chair sits stoic next to it. The house is a lot more friendly on the outside.

You ask if Stan’s parents are home, and you receive in response a denying hum and a shake of his head.

Stan fumbles with his seat belt, weakly pushing at the button to release the clasp. You step out of the car and walk over to his side, opening the door for him so you can help drag him to his room. Upon wrenching the door open, Stan, who was leaning on it for support, tumbles over. His palm meets the dusty floor of the car as he catches himself. He’s about to bitch and moan about how much his head hurts, but he finds that impossible to do when he finally, finally fully looks at you.

As Stan lifts his heavy, pounding head up to lift himself from the car seat, his legs suddenly feel about as load-bearing as pudding. Hazy blue eyes meet yours, and his heart lurches straight up into his throat. The lantern on the porch fans out across your back, lighting the contour of your body up in a halo of light. The soft, flickering yellow of the faux flame casts its soft glow across your cheeks, and the harsh burn of the car’s interior ceiling light reflects in your glossy, sharp eyes. Standing before Stan isn’t one of his closest friends. It’s not the same person he got into the car with. It’s an angel.

Stan takes a shaky breath and opens his mouth to speak. To arrange and tell you the words that have been plucking at his vocal cords the whole ride home. To somehow communicate through his stupor how starstruck he suddenly feels as you shift on your feet and make the light glimmer through the strands of your hair like rays of sunshine dappling through leaves. His heart beats harder than the pulsing in his head as he tries to push something, anything, out of his now stupidly open mouth.

Stan is able to spout out a fraction of a syllable before he empties the contents of his stomach on the ground in front of your feet.

You jump back with a curt ‘dude!’ as he vomits. Thankfully, he was able to just narrowly miss getting any in or on your car. Stan coughs and spits and thanks his lucky stars that he’s too drunk to let the mortification of almost showering you in cheap, once-consumed beer set in.

You swiftly help him out of the car, avoiding the puddle, and wordlessly move up to the house and, after a quick shot of water in the bathroom, into his room. You flip on the dusty old lamp that sits at his bedside table as you lower Stan into the messy, unkempt sheets of his bed. He croaks out something akin to a ‘thank you’ as you slip his shoes off and toss them somewhere into the dark corners of his room. He doesn’t take his eyes off you as you move around and make sure he’s comfortable. You sit on the edge of his bed for a second as he finally seems to relax, his eyes drooping shut and his breathing steady. However, weak fingers tug at the sleeve of your jacket as you begin to stand.

“Stay.”

Those sad blues are looking at you again. Though his raspy voice asks a quiet and withdrawn request, his eyes plead and beg like you’re his last lifeline.

You nod. “Okay.”

Stan’s hand slips from your sleeve and falls over your fingers. Those hands, calloused from picking at his old guitar, are so gentle. Careful, even, as his fingers wrap loosely around yours and his thumb strokes your palm. At first, he worries that you’ll comment on how slick with sweat his hands are. He worries that you can feel his thumping heartbeat through the mattress. He worries that you’re disgusted by his actions, or – god forbid – disappointed in him.

But mostly, as you squeeze his hand and shrug off your jacket and kick off your shoes, he worries that you can read exactly what he feels is written plainly across his heart.

#south park x reader #south park x y/n #stan marsh x reader

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erina-writes-headcanons · 2 years

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Hey there ! 👀 😌 Can I request for rainy days w their s/o headcanons for Knb with Aomine, Midorima, Kise, Akashi and Teppei ? Like what do they like to do during this weather, are they more touchy or is it a special moment for them ? Thank you in advance (˶◡‿◡)(´ ❥ `) !

Spending time in Rainy Days with Aomine Daiki, Midorima Shintarou, Kise Ryouta, Akashi Seijuro and Kiyoshi Teppei.

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Yo my best bish @mhynvxii! Glad that you are requesting Kuroko no Basket headcanons! To be honest, your request gives me tons of fluffy ideas and I can see your crush spending their time together with you, especially with Aomine or Kise :)

Have fun spending your time with those annoying babies 👀👀👀

Gender: Neutral

Warning: None

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Aomine Daiki

One of his love languages in giving is physical touch, especially when it comes to cuddling as he's acting like the bigger spoon, refusing to be the small spoon even if you beg with your puppy eyes.

When it's cold outside because of the rain. I can see him pulling you against his chest, letting your head rest on top of his chest as his hand gives a soothing rub on your back.

Cuddling with him as it was raining outside, the two of you two always doing it at night after working and having a rest time together, wearing away the exhaustion.

During this moment, the two of you would sleep together or have a deep talk together as the two of you connected your heart together, listening to each other rants and comforting each other.

Other than cuddling, he would spend the time together with you by playing games together on PS4. Trying to beat your score as the two of you have a match.

When gaming together, he would buy some snacks so the two of you could eat together while trying to out win each other in the game as he tries to beat your score if you have a higher score than him.

While gaming together, I can see the two of you throwing each other jokes. It was really funny that either one of you had a stomach cramp for laughing too much.

In conclusion, spending rainy days together with Aomine involved in gaming together, cuddling or sleeping together while having a deep conversation.

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The sound of water hitting against the window got louder and louder along with the rumble of the thunders, frightening the creatures and the children who would hide underneath the blanket to seek protection. It was getting colder even though the air conditioner inside of your room already turned off.

The blur in your eyes getting stronger, and it was hard for you to stay awake because of the comfort from the air and the blanket that was draped around your shoulder, giving you warmth. However, the sleepy state did not last long because of the loud knock outside the door and it made you wonder who was outside of your house.

Blinking the sleepiness away, You stood up from your bed and put the blanket away before going downstairs from your bedroom. Opening the door, your eyes widened to see your boyfriend, Aomine who's standing in front of the door with a plastic bag on his hand.

"Hey babe~ you're home alone?" He asks.

"Yeah, I told you in text message. You didn't see it, did you?" You squint your eyes at him.

".....yeah, I haven't," he groans, not wanting to hear you scolding him.

"...just go inside. What's inside the bag?" You ask him, eyeing the plastic bag

"You'll see," the corner of his lips tugged upwards, smirking at you as there was a certain glint in his blue eyes.

Sitting on the couch, he puts the plastic box on top of the table and pulls out several boxes along with plastic cups. There were pizza boxes, sodas, cheeseburgers and other several sweet drinks laid down on top of the table.

Crossing both of your arms, you glance at Aomine with a tiny smirk "Gaming night again? Be ready getting your ass kicked."

"Pfft, as if I ever loose from you," he taunts back.

After the console was plugged inside. Both you and Aomine start to focus on the screen in front of the two of you with two characters standing in front of each other, in a fighting stance and the number on the screen began counting down, "Heh, If you lose. You gotta put that 'dress' that I bought for you but if I lose. I will buy your favourite food," he made a bet with you.

"Game on, blue boy," your fingers placed on top of the buttons, getting ready to beat your boyfriend in a fighting game.

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Midorima Shintarou

I am sorry if you are Midorima simp but as you can see, he's not really someone who can comfort you. However, that doesn't mean he's a cold-hearted prick, he shows it in his way.

I can see the two of you spending time with each other by sitting next to each other as he is listening to all of your rambles and rants before he throws his opinion which can be a little bit biased or harsh.

If you are cold because of the rain, I can see he would share his red bean soup. Not in the cold and canned drink one but rather the one where you just need to heat it inside of a bowl and let you have some of his.

He would most likely talk to you about your zodiac signs and his zodiac signs while the two of you are watching the rain pouring down while his lucky item is on his lap. and believe me, I even laughed writing this one

Other than a deep talk together with Midorima. I can see that you and Midorima would most likely spending time with each other inside of a library if you like books. The two of you have a library date.

If you also have an exam the next day, I can see Midorima would be willing to teach you as outside was raining while the two of you are inside a library. He could be a great mentor.

While the two of you had a study date in the library, he doesn't mind spending a little bit of money to buy a warm drink, especially if you starting to lose your focus.

In conclusion, when you spend your time together with Midorima when it's rain. You would have a red bean soup, a deep talk with him and a study date inside of a library with him.

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Parking the bicycle away, your hands grab the lock before chaining the bicycle to the metallic bar and lock it with a special key. You had promised Midorima what the two of you going to study together for the next week's exams, there were Biology and Physics and you haven't even study them yet.

Knowing that you didn't even start or learn any material, Midorima gave you a mouthful of scolding, saying that you should have studied them two weeks ago since there are lots of difficult materials. It wasn't a fun experiment and you feel you want to smack the green-haired Shutoku shooter before throwing him to the basketball hoop but that only going to cause even more drama so you just let him be.

Opening the door, of the library cafe. There were not many customers and most of them are from Shutoku studying for the upcoming exam with some familiar faces of your classmates. Seeing an empty table, your feet hitting against the floor and sauntering up to the empty place since no one on the sit yet.

As you sat down on the chair, there were sounds of thunders outside of the window and a sudden sound of water hitting against the window, showing outside are raining hard, 'Shit, I hope the rain isn't going to last long,' you pray silently, not really paying attention of the sound upcoming footsteps.

"Did you bring the book, (Y/n)-san?" A familiar voice spoke on your side.

"Yeah, let me take it out first," You don't need to look u to know it was Midorima, your boyfriend.

Before you could pull out. A cup of hot tea/coffee is laid in front of you along with an item of small keychain next to the drink. Glancing up, you could see Midorima has red cheeks as his eyes looking away from you, "Oha Asa says this is your lucky item for your zodiac sign for today, a keychain for you, nanodayo."

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Kise Ryouta

Kise can get a little bit creative to make your day not boring when you spend your time with him while outside pouring down tears of the cloud.

He gets bored very easily so I can see he has many ideas to make spending time with him becoming fun and I can get the list but let's talk the first thing what you would do with him together.

Kise and you are going to do a skincare routine. He would be gladly put a mask on your face and let you use his exfoliating soap to cleanse your face from the dead skin.

He would let you treat him doing the skincare treatment in case if you want to run your hand through his face as you cleanse his face with the micellar waters or toners or hydrate his face with moisturizer.

Other than a skincare treatment with each other. I can see the two of you also going to play a pocky game together, even though he has never played the game before. He thinks it would be fun playing it with you.

He would tease you if you ended up embarrassed and breaking the pocky. Saing how adorable you look when you're embarrassed before he kisses your lips once again.

Or if he loses, he would pout and says that you cheated in the pocky game but you know he's like that because he is trying to guilt-trip you, he's not really sad. That was just his mask so you would give in to his puppy eyes and let him win.

So for the conclusion, spending time with Kise when it's raining outside. There would be some kind of games where the two of you can play together and you two would have a skin care routine together.

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As the sound of thunder and the sound of the wind hitting against the glass goes stronger than a few hours ago. You weren't bothered at all by all of the noises as your eyes focused on the screen in front of you with your fingers pressing the keyboards, trying to finish the assignment that your teacher has given to you yesterday.

It has been more than an hour, and the questions were really and you have spent your most time trying to answer all of the questions. Stress was building up inside of you but you manage to push it down because you want to finish it one day so you could relax at the next day.

Sensing you were getting stressed by the assignment. Kise jutted his lips out, feeling bad that you haven't had enough rest yet you still push yourself to finish the task. A lightbulb suddenly appears on top of his head, having an idea of how to pull your attention away before he runs out to take some of the bottles inside of the bathroom.

Running back, he kicked the door away before announcing his appearance dramatically, "(Y/N)-CHI!!! I have something for you!!" he smiled, showing the bottles in his hands. You wanted to give him a piece of your mind since he distracted you until you see the bottles in his hands and his excited smile.

All of that annoyance immediately gone, taking a deep breath, you realize Kise is only trying to cheer you up, "You want to do a skincare routine?" You ask him.

"Hai! Now follow me, (Y/N)-Chi. I have a new sheet mask and it's really good for your skin!" He laid all of the bottles on the tables.

"Sure, let me save the file first," you press the save button and shut down the computer before following your cute model boyfriend from behind.

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Akashi Seijuro

He is a gentleman and it is a fact. Spending time with him would be a mix of sophisticated but also fun. I can see the two of you will have many activities together while outside was raining.

The first thing that I can see about how you spend your time together when it's raining outside is having a deep talk with a cup of tea or coffee, talking about how your day or his days goes went.

As the two of you are talking about how was your day and how was his day in Rakuzan. The two of you are either going to listen to the sound of pitter pater of the rain and the sound of the soft jazz or classical music to set up a calm mood in the background.

The two of you are going to read a book together either if it was non-fiction or a fiction book. After reading, I can see the two of you going to review each other books and maybe throw each other some suggestions on which book was better.

Other than reading a book and deep talk. I can see the two of you have a board game together, especially Shogi if you know how to play Shogi. If you don't knowhow, you can play chess with him.

Sometimes he would go easy on you just to see you smile and lose on purpose but sometimes he didn't let you win either but he would be glad to teach you so you know a better tactic when you play chess again.

Of course if you want to learn how to play shogi. He would be also glad to teach you how to play the game. He might be a little bit strict mentor but he can be very tender around you.

Spending time with him while outside was raining is involved in a book indulgement together as the two of you had a cup of tea or coffee while listening to soft music and playing a board game together.

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Pitter-patter

The view of water falling against the window decorates the view outside, giving you an unexplainable yet calm and serene feeling even though you are supposed to be annoyed. The reason why the rain doesn't give you any irritation or bad mood is that you already promised to go outside and had a date with your boyfriend and meet your friends. However, because of the rain, you couldn't go.

Not sensing someone getting closer, you were enjoying the calming sensation around the room, almost getting lulled by the eternal calmness as your head started to nod off and the blur in your sight got stronger and stronger but all of that was ruined in an instant as a clanking sound could be heard as your ear picked up the sound.

Staring at the board in front of you in front of your eyes. You look up to see your boyfriend, Akashi who is looking at you with a little yet gentle smile, the smile that he always wear only around you, "(Y/N)-san. Are you getting tired?" the red-haired Rakuzan captain asks you

"Yeah, the cold air made me a little bit sleepy," you rub your eyes, trying to push away the drowsiness away.

"May I assist you for now? I understand if you don't want to because you have never played this game before but rest assured. I will instruct you how to play this game" he shows a board with squares on it with some Japanese words on the small woods on it.

"Is this....shogi?" You look up at Akashi.

"Correct, we are going to play Shogi," he sat across from you.

You were a little bit intimidated playing against him since he could beat you in Shogi for a few second but your brain remember the word that he told you a few seconds ago, 'I will instruct you how to play this game and it made you at ease a little bit. "Alright, let's play shogi, Akashi-kun. Will you please teach me how to play shogi?"

"I'd be delighted, my love."

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Kiyoshi Teppei

Another angel. Kiyoshi is not only big but he is also warm and because of that. I can see the two of you cuddling while outside was raining really hard.

As he cuddles you while his arms are wrapped around your waist and your head laid on top of his chest. He would whisper sweet nothings, praising you and fluster you with his words.

Even if he didn't say anything and it was only silence. It was still comforting because I can see one of his love languages is physical touch as he hums softly next to you, almost lulling you to sleep.

However, if you are not sleepy. I can see him would throw some corny jokes that would be so stupid that you would snort and laugh when you hear his jokes even if it was bad while the two of you are cuddling.

Other than cuddling. He would be glad to spend his time together with you by slow dancing in the kitchen or in the living room just to lift your mood up while outside was raining.

He would also throw some little kisses on the forehead, on the lips, the cheeks and on the nose just to make you giggle and blush heavily. He is very affectionate when you spend time with him. A romantic sap.

This man can cook so I can see he would teach you how to cook when outside was raining, gently lead you and step by step so you wouldn't make any mistake while cooking together with him.

In conclusion, spending time with him while outside was raining would be involved cooking time together, dancing in the living room and then cuddling with him.

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Closing the window with the soft silken blinds, you didn't want to see the rain along with thunder as the sound made you a little bit stressed out. If you had to be honest, you hate loud sounds because sometimes loud sounds could frighten you like your current condition. Your knees immediately acted as spring as another crash sound from the thunder scares you.

The sounds of your heart racing and your little shriek could be heard by the male who just got out of the bathroom as his scent surrounded the whole room. "(Y/N)-Chan, are you alright?" Kiyoshi asks, getting closer to your shaking form.

"...I'm fine," You lied but it was very obvious to him.

"...(Y/N)-chan. I know you're not fine, you can tell me what's going on," he sat next to you as his large hands gently rub your back.

"It's just.....I hate thunder sounds, It's too loud," you mutter looking away with embarrassment.

There was silence and you can feel his gaze on you, making you a little bit scared with his sudden silence before he gently wrap his arm around you, pulling you against his muscular chest and putting your head underneath his chin. You were a little bit perplexed by the sudden contact but soon you can feel his warmth embracing you.

His hands still made a contact on your back, giving a circular motion and a soothing feeling. His hugs were tight yet gentle as if he was telling you to only feel his hug and forget about the thunderstorm outside of the bedroom.

"It's fine, darling. You don't need to be scared, I'm here," he whispered to your ears as he kisses the crown of your head.

The kiss made you a little bit red but you were still happy with his sudden affection to throw your fear away from the loud noises. Noticing the redness on your cheeks, the large Seirin player couldn't help but stare at you with a smile, thinking how adorable you look before he kisses the tip of your nose.

"I love you, (Y/N)-chan...never forget that" he whispered.

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