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#au: camping
kingofbodyrolls · 9 months
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Friendcation (m) | myg | series masterlist
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Summary: Going camping with your best friends seemed like a brilliant idea when you initially made the plans. But when you harbor secret feelings for one of them, what will become of you being close confined for three months? Trouble, that’s what.
Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female, “Y/N”) Other characters: Jimin, Jungkook, Taehyung, Namjoon, Hoseok and Seokjin.
Genre/AU: friends to best friends with benefits to lovers, non idol!au, camping!au, roadtrip!au, mechanic!Yoongi, humor, slight angst, smut and fluff
Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (This is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.)
Word count: 110.5K (things got out of hand, lol and it's mainly smut 💀)
Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸
Warnings/tags: will be tagged for each individual chapter. But it does contain smut, almost in every chapter (not the first though).
Taglist: Closed. Status: Completed!
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🍃 Chapter 1 Summary: As exhaustion and stress threaten to consume you and your friends at work, Yoongi comes to the rescue with an enticing proposal: a collective vacation—a friendcation. Amid the backdrop of breathtaking landscapes and shared adventures, your feelings for him only deepens more. Yet, his lingering gaze holds secrets you can't ignore, leaving you to wonder if it conceals something deeper—an unspoken connection that may forever alter your friendship. Word count: 11,9K | Read → chapter one 🍃Chapter 2 Summary: When you get a flat tire, you think it’s bad luck, but when you fall flat on your ass and Yoongi offers to massage the pain away, has your luck finally turned? 😜 Word count: 12.7K | Read → chapter two 🍃Chapter 3 Summary: When you and Yoongi visit his family in Daegu, and he introduces you as his friend, it rubs you all kind of wrong. But what are you even to each other, other than best friends with benefits? Word count: 11.9K | Read → chapter three 🍃Chapter 4 Summary: It’s the last weeks of the vacation being just you and Yoongi, and you’re going to savor every last bit of it. You do some hiking, relaxing and discover new sides to yourself that you didn’t know existed. Word count: 17.7K | Read → chapter four 🍃Chapter 5 Summary: Namjoon, Hoseok and Seokjin have finally joined you on your trip and it’s going great; you have a tremendous amount of fun (some at your expense), laughter and talks about life. Namjoon suddenly asks you where you think this thing with Yoongi is heading, and to be honest you don’t really know yourself – you just know that you love him. Word count: 23K | Read → chapter five 🍃Chapter 6 Summary: Your vacation is coming to an end but your thoughts are spiraling and filled with anxiety as a tiny mishap makes you question your future with Yoongi. Word count: 11.3K | Read → chapter six 🍃Chapter 7 [finale] Summary: Melancholy shrouds you and Yoongi in your last days of vacation – time to get back home to the daily grind. But when you can visit Yoongi in his garage, is it really so bad? Word count: 11.3K | Read → chapter seven
🍃Extras🍃
🍃Winter special Summary: You’re in labor and live outside of the city, and it just happens to be Christmas time, there’s a lot of snow. Will you and Yoongi be able to make it to the hospital before your baby arrives? OR– The one where Yoongi fucks you into labor and crashes the car. Word count: 10.3K | Read → the winter special
🍃TBA (wip) Summary: TBA Word count: TBA | Read → TBA
🍃TBA (wip) Summary: TBA Word count: TBA | Read → TBA
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Author’s note: Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I appreciate every like, comment and reblog, and please don’t be afraid to let me know what you think;  your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜
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charlie-jl · 10 months
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Marauders camping au!!
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Closeups:
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slobstation · 3 months
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james potter canonically being a white man should be illegal, actually it is illegal. get the fuck away from me.
(i’m coping)
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kidovna · 11 months
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“You just actively ignored me for three minutes” (fic by @campbyler)
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gothwineaunts · 6 months
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Summer Camp Fanfic Fanart
(I'll just copy/paste a bit of my last post in case anyone missed it) So, we decided to make fanart of fanworks. Yeah, it's meta and chaotic, but that kinda feels right. If y'all like this we may do more in the future. This is the last one for today! Hope you had as much fun as we did!!
Ahahaha. So, listen. It was just too good a scene not to feature. This moment is from scouthearted's 'Neversmores' on Ao3. It's got six chapters out now and they're all nostalgic summer camp perfection. Everyone is camp counselors. Annabel is a hot lifeguard. Gay shit happens. Like, I don't even feel like I need to explain why this is good, right? Sapphics, we're all suckers for a summer camp story. That can't just be me. https://archiveofourown.org/works/50104561/chapters/126530674 --- And if you've never been on ao3 before, please understand that there's a WIDE variety of content there and some of it can be very over-the-line. Familiarize yourself with the tagging system before you go clicking around to make sure you're not reading things that are outside your comfort zone/age rating.
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moonstruckme · 1 month
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He would never take those bracelets off 😭 now I kinda want a fic of counselor James and counselor reader how cute
Hi, I've lowkey been hoarding this for months because I wanted to wait until I felt summery enough, thank you for requesting!!
camp counselor!James x fem!reader ♡ 693 words
“Land ho, boys!” A familiar voice reaches you over the water. Your eyes are closed towards the sun, but you feel your lips twitch upward. “Thomas, if you don’t help Callum paddle you’ll fall behind, and the last one to shore has to buy me a popsicle after dinner. Hey, look, we’ve got a mermaid on our beach!” 
You turn your head to the side, squinting your eyes to see James and his cabin of boys paddling toward you in kayaks over the lake. You lift your hand in a lazy wave. 
“Oh, false alarm, it’s just y/n. Hi, y/n!” He raises an arm to wave back at you, wrist stacked with string bracelets made with care by small hands.
You swear he’s got more from your own campers than you have, but you don’t mind; James is a hero to most of the kids, the goofy gentle giant who lets them ride on his shoulders when your manager isn’t looking and deals temporary tattoos out of his cabin during mealtimes.
“Careful, Archie, mate, if she catches you rocking your kayak like that she’s going to hang you from the lifeguard stand by your toes.” The boys laugh, and James protests, “No, really! I’ve seen her do it, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
You roll your eyes and close them again, turning your face back towards the sky. It’s not until you hear the shushing of kayaks against the coarse sand and a shadow falls over you that you say, without opening your eyes, “Spreading rumors about me again?” 
“They know better than to take me seriously.”
James’ shadow moves as he sits beside you on the sand, and you turn your head again to see him. He’s looking over his shoulder at the boys, the lean muscles of his abdomen stretching and dusky skin shining with sweat in the afternoon sun.
“Hey, whoever puts my kayak and paddle up, I’ll buy them a popsicle after dinner.” Shouts and bickering ensue, and James turns back around with a smile. “Where are your kids?” he asks you. 
“In arts and crafts,” you say. “Figured I’d catch a nap while they were busy.” 
He hums, setting his hands on the warm sand behind him and leaning back. “So you didn’t just come here to see how fit I looked dragging a paddle through the water?” 
You know James is only playing, but embarrassment tingles down to your toes anyway. “Not this time, sorry.” 
“Mm, don’t believe you.” He shoots you a grin, and you look away under the guise of rolling your eyes. That thing is more glaring than the sun. “You coming to the bonfire tonight?” 
“Don’t we have to?” you ask. It’s the last night of this session, and camp always closes out with a bonfire and s’mores for the kids. 
“I mean the other bonfire.” At your blank look, James continues, looking rather too pleased to know something you don’t, “After the kid’s bonfire, when they’re all watching a movie in the cafeteria, some of the counselors are planning to go out into the woods and have a grown-up’s bonfire.” 
You giggle. “Grown-ups? What are we, twelve?”
James bobs his head. “And we’re gonna have s’mores, and tell ghost stories, and maybe play truth or dare,” he says in an exaggeratedly animated tone. “It’s gonna be super cool.” 
“It sounds super cool,” you agree, laughing. “I’ll be there.” 
“Excellent.” James casts a look over his shoulder and starts standing up. “I should get back to my kids before they injure each other.” 
You check the time and sigh. “Yeah, me too.” 
“Want a hand?” 
You reach up and James takes your hands in his, hauling you upright. Your head lightens once you’re vertical, a combination of your sun-warmed skin and James’ touch making you woozy. 
“See you later?” he asks, releasing your hands and starting to back away as the shouting behind him grows more boisterous. “I’ll come find you in the cafeteria, we can walk together.” 
“That’d be great, thanks.” You start walking away, too, ignoring the pleasant buzzing in your chest. “I wouldn’t miss it.” 
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dazeddoodles · 27 days
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Au where a human Raine and Eda meet and fall in love at a summer camp they were both sent away to
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tsuyonpuu · 1 year
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The fellowship but they are just a bunch of little guys 💙
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evilminji · 4 months
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What is "A God" and does the King of the Infinite Every Between count?
The great and endless "slipped between the cracks" of everything and all things? The souls of those Death has Taken but no God can Claim? THAT King?
Is he... A GOD.
I mean... probably not? He's a Halfa. Little hungry, right now. And very, VERY powerful. Can absolutely kick their asses. But "God"? He'd honestly have to throw that one to his advisors to go look up.
Like? If we're talking Title? Maybe. There are definitely people who worship him. He wi-( ......*cough* HI Desiree, nice to see ya.) Would LIKE, people to stop? But he can't TELL them too. That's THEIR choice. They get to make it. But if we're talking the SPECIES or BEING known to you as "God"?
Nope.
He's definitely not.
But then again? There are a LOT of Beings out there, that serve that particular Role, that aren't "Gods". Does that make their work somehow less precious? Their worshipers Faith, less genuine? It's just a position, dude. Divine management.
The great and glorified Housekeeping of Creation.
In HIS experience? A whole lot like babysitting.
Though... now that he thinks about it? WHY? Why DO you want to know? If he is or is NOT a God? Furthermore, how the HECK did you even GET this "number"? This is the Zone! Did you intentionally "@Anybody"?! Kid! Kiddo, what the actual FUCK! That was SO DANGEROUS holy shit!!! (Is this karma? This feels like karma. Is this what HE was like as a kid?? No WONDER Jazz always looked so stressed)
I could have been ANYBODY!
And? A mulish AF Percy Jackson and his crowd of friends? Just stare back up in that "I DO NOT Repent And Would DO IT AGAIN BUT WITH MORE FIRE" way only highly hormonal and deeply feral teenagers can? Just >:( ×15
Danny, the only adult here, is Concerned(tm).
They? Demand he Adopt's them. They need a BETTER Divine Parent who will ACTUALLY take care of them. And according to the qualifications they carved into the REALLY smashed together, Neo-Archaic, Call Summon Boulder they collectively carved? HE has all the "Good Parent" Qualifications they want.
So congratulations!
IT'S A CROWD.
No they aren't asking. You are Dad now, FATHER. Now come and protect your adopted offspring! And give out hugs and praise! Also we made a list! And-!
*proceeds to try and menace the literal Ruler of The Infinte Zone in a crackling squeaky voice*
And like? Well, shit. Guess he's a Dad now. They're clearly too powerful to fight. Such devastating cases being made. Oh woe, he is powerless before them etc etc.
MAN, you all are tiny!
Who wants fudge?
@hdgnj @hypewinter @ailithnight @the-witchhunter @babbling-babull @lolottes @nerdpoe @mutable-manifestation
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ayachannsstuff · 9 months
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best friends forever
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tropical-lycan · 10 months
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I missed drawing Andrew and Neil from my slasher Foxhole Camp AFTG AU ❤️and I missed drawing backgrounds lol
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kingofbodyrolls · 5 months
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Friendcation (m) | myg | winter special
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| s.masterlist | m.masterlist |
Summary: You’re in labor and live outside of the city, and it just happens to be Christmas time, there’s a lot of snow. Will you and Yoongi be able to make it to the hospital before your baby arrives?
OR– The one where Yoongi fucks you into labor and crashes the car 🙃 (It’s set about 1,5 years after friendcation ended) 🙂
it's obviously part of a series, but it can totally be read as a standalone oneshot (though there's some jokes you might not get, but that's all).
Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female)
Other characters: Jimin 😇 + the rest of the gang makes an appearance at the end too 💜
AUs: roadtrip!au, non idol!au, pregnancy!au, established relationship, married!au, mechanic!Yoongi, holiday!au.
Genres: slice of life, humor/crack, smut and fluff
Rating: mature/explicit/R18  (This is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.)
Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸
Word Count: 10.3K
Warnings (general) + triggers: sex while pregnant, minor car accident, a lot of crack and humor too, because otherwise it wouldn’t be friendcation. Slight angst. Possessive Yoongi. Jimin deserves a warning too 👀 (it’s always Jimin)! Giving birth in a car in a somewhat detailed description (without medical help). Breastfeeding a baby. A lot of kissing.
Warnings (explicit): smut in the form of unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, breast play, nipple play (with a little bit of lactation), flashing/exposure of vagina and boobs, comfort sex (Yoongi making sure OC is comfortable the whole time 🥺), strong orgasms, blood (because of childbirth, but barely mentioned).
Author’s note: this couple just wouldn’t leave me alone 😂 So here we are, with a winter special. I really hope you like it. It was so fun to write, I just love their relationship and then also with their friends, especially Jimin 🤭 I might do more specials through time, I don’t know. Don’t know if people are interested (but I’d probably write it anyway, lol). Like, we still don’t know how Yoongi proposed, their wedding, their honeymoon 👀
This has different povs, mainly Yoongi's, then Jimin's and reader's (I hope it isn't too confusing).
Thank you so much – and thanks to all that likes, comments, reblogs, yeah, anything. Thank you from the bottom of my heart, it makes me so happy and a damn smiling fool 💜
Taglist: @idkjustlovingbts @constancelayon @wobblewobble822 @ktownshizzle @moonchild1 @ultimatefangirl0 @baechugff @jimintaemin @parapiop7 @fckkntired @iluvfndms @citypop-princess @tarahardcore @bergandysam @massivelyfullenthusiast @tatyhend @gimeow *strikethrough means tumblr isn’t letting me tag you :( **if you wish to be removed from the taglist, let me know 🌸
It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there.
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He is used to it.
But ever since you became pregnant, it’s been getting worse.
Your sleep moaning, that is.
And it’s always turning him on.
His frustration simmers beneath the surface, fueled by the magnetic allure you effortlessly wield. Yet, with a single glance from you, his resolve melts away like butter on a warm summer day. This magnetic power you wield over him isn't a recent revelation; it's been your enchanting spell, cast long before that memorable camping trip more than a year ago.
Memories surge like a tidal wave, setting his irises ablaze with vivid snapshots of you both, entwined amidst the intimate cocoon of his van, sheets tangled in the echoes of passion.
Countless adventures and camping escapades have unfolded since that fateful journey with your friends, yet it's the kaleidoscope of memories created with you that he holds as precious treasures, each moment a vibrant gem in the tapestry of your relationship.
At last, his gaze shifts towards you, and he beholds the tranquility that graces your sleeping form, nestled beside him. There you lie, on your back nonetheless, which really mustn't be nice considering your big belly.
You’re almost nine months pregnant and the baby can come any minute, he knows.
You’d been trying to conceive for some time, a delightful excuse to have sex all the damn time–although, truth be told, he never needed one.
He feels his dick strain against the confines of his boxers and he wonders  whether to rouse you from slumber, it's not merely the urgency of his arousal but the genuine concern for your well-being—your supine position hindering blood flow and oxygen to the precious life within your belly. 
Thus, with a tender touch, he delicately stirs you from your peaceful slumber.
Initially met with silence, your slumbering form stirs slightly, emitting a soft murmur of both moans and snores.
A soft chuckle escapes him as he observes your endearing response, yet undeterred, he persists in gently prodding you.
In a hushed and tender tone, he attempts to reach out to you with a gentle “Babe,” his voice a delicate whisper, carrying the weight of affection.
As your head gracefully pivots towards him, your eyes, like delicate butterflies, flutter open in response to the gentle call. A soft smile graces his lips, a silent serenade to the gradual awakening of your consciousness.
As consciousness fully embraces you, your eyes roam the dimly lit room before finding solace in his gaze.”Why did you wake me? It’s the middle of the night…” you inquire, the bedroom's shadows bearing witness to the query that hangs in the air.
With a gentle yawn, you pivot your body, settling into the comforting curve of your side. In the quiet accomplishment of this subtle shift, one of his cherished missions finds completion.
In a tender tone infused with love, he begins, “You were sleeping on your back. It’s not good for the baby,” his words a gentle caress carrying the weight of concern for the precious life cradled within your belly.
A warmth infuses your smile as you meet his gaze, a silent acknowledgment of gratitude for the depth of his concern and the wellspring of love that envelops you both.
And with a playful chuckle lacing his words, he adds, “And you were moaning too.” Your laughter joins his, and you both know what this means.
“You’re always horny, Yoon.” you tease, your hands exploring the contours of his body with purpose. Swiftly finding the elastic of his boxers, you trace the outline of his dick with a deliberate touch, a dance of desire that unfolds seamlessly between you.
Your hand glides sensually over him, a teasing caress through the fabric of his boxers, and a guttural groan of pleasure escapes his lips.
He seizes your hand, bringing a pause to the tantalizing dance between you. “Do you want to, babe?” he inquires, his gaze a reflection of both restraint and anticipation, hanging on the unspoken words between you.
A soft chuckle escapes your lips, your body and mind fully alive, the air already charged with the unmistakable electricity that Yoongi seems to effortlessly ignite within you. You’re already soaked in your panties, and with a whispered moan, you confess, “Yes, I need you Yoongi.”
Gently guiding your hand away from his cock, he inches closer, turning you to lay on your side facing away from him.
Swiftly seizing his pillow, he artfully tucks it beneath the gentle curve of your belly, sculpting a cocoon of support and comfort.
Nestling his head into the crook of your neck, he inhales deeply, savoring the heady and intoxicating essence that is uniquely yours. It's more than a fragrance; it's a potent elixir that courses through him, a sensory drug that elicits an involuntary response—a subtle, primal twitch in the fabric of boxers.
A low, guttural moan escapes his lips, intimately shared in the cocoon of your embrace, as he senses your shiver echo through his touch.His skilled hand embarks on a journey, tenderly caressing your breasts, lingering over the soft expanse of your tummy where the fluttering life within makes its presence known. As his exploration ventures lower, he cups your pussy outside your panties.
Your hips undulate into his dick, a rhythmic dance that draws an involuntary duet of pleasure-laden moans from both of you. His awareness sharpens, attuned to the undeniable evidence of your arousal. With a deliberate touch, he tugs your panties aside, revealing your drenched pussy.
Initiating a delicate exploration, he trails his fingertips along the contours of your folds, gathering the essence of your arousal before skillfully guiding a single digit into the velvety warmth of your desire.
With a rhythmic precision, he starts a sensual dance, his digit sliding in and out of your eager core. Each movement draws forth an increasing symphony of heavy pants, and he can already hear that you’re not gonna last long.
Adding another skilled finger, he intensifies the intimate pleasure, a seamless union of sensation as your bodies synchronize in a provocative dance. Your backside grinds into the rigid length of his desire, fueling his fervor to push the limits further. With an escalating pace, his fingers move within you, a crescendo of pleasure building with every adept stroke.
Breathless and on the precipice of ecstasy, you urgently plead, “I'm so close, Yoongi. Touch my clit instead,” your voice a desperate plea. He complies with a deft move, withdrawing his slickened fingers from the depths of your core to redirect their attention, skillfully navigating the peaks of your pussy with an intoxicating dance against your throbbing clit.
Yoongi has become attuned to the cadence of your breath, a masterful symphony that he has memorized like the back of his hand. In the harmonious rhythm, he discerns the telltale signs that you are on the precipice of ecstasy—so close that the intoxicating anticipation hangs in the air like an electric charge.
His fingers move in a tantalizing dance, tracing circles around your clit with an intimate familiarity. As he senses you teetering on the brink, your breaths hang heavy in the charged air, and the ethereal moans escape your lips like a whispered melody. In a bold move, he pinches your clit. Your body responds in an electric surge, tension radiating through every inch of your being, held in the exquisite grip of his deliberate touch.
Returning to the rhythmic circles on your clit, he guides you through the waves of your orgasm, a seismic tremor that reverberates through your being. Each stroke of his touch acts as a steady anchor, grounding you in the aftermath of what feels like an earth-shattering climax.
You gasp for air, your breaths coming in furious bursts, and in a voice drawn out with need, you moan his name—a melody of pleasure that lingers in the charged air between you.
“'Fuck!” escapes you in a guttural moan, your hands clenching into fists under the watchful gaze of his darkened, appreciative eyes. 
Withdrawing his hand from the depths of your core, he endeavors to temper the tempestuous movements coursing through you, a steadying touch anchoring your fervent reactions with a gentle grip on your hips. 
“'Damn. It's like the orgasm is lingering,” you confess in a strained voice, leaving Yoongi uncertain whether to interpret it as a blissful prolongation or a potential intensity that might overwhelm you. 
“What do you mean?” he inquires, his voice a warm breath against your neck.
“It's just... I can feel it all the way around my stomach,” you pant, the lingering sensations creating a unique symphony within you. “Ah, it's probably Braxton Hicks contractions, because of the orgasm,” you assert with a newfound certainty. In response, Yoongi hums in acknowledgment, his hand delicately finding its place on your belly, where he can feel the subtle tightness.
“Are you sure it’s just that?” he questions, his concern etched in the furrow of his brow. Yet, as your assurance unfolds, a palpable relaxation courses through the muscles of your belly. “Yeah, they're fading now,” you confirm.
“Yoongi, I need you inside me now,” you declare, your words a sultry plea as you sensually grind your ass into the rigid bulge within his boxers. 
With a sharp intake of breath, he hisses, seizing your hips in a possessive grip, molding you against the heat of his pelvis.
Effortlessly, he peels your panties down your thighs, and you willingly lift your legs to aid in their complete removal. As he holds the damp evidence of your arousal in his hand, a wicked glint in his eyes betrays the realization, damn they are soaked. Without a second thought, he discards them to the floor.
“'Is this position comfortable for you?” he tenderly inquires, a gentle concern threading through his words as he sheds his boxers. Adjusting his position, he moves slightly, aligning himself with the contours of your core from behind.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
Lying down and approaching from behind, the fit feels unusually snug. Yoongi, with deliberate intent, spreads your ass cheeks, his hand tracing a teasing path before he strokes his arousal, the anticipation building. As he aligns with the entrance to your core, a slow and deliberate entrance ensues, eliciting a moan from you.
An almost primal growl escapes your lips as he sinks in, each agonizingly slow inch a delicious torment. It's not just amazing; it's an exquisite tightness that makes you acutely aware of his presence, as if you can feel him reverberating through every fiber of your being, from the deepest reaches of your pussy to the intimate confines of your uterus.
Yoongi indulges in a series of deliberate thrusts, each movement a slow dance that unveils the exquisite tightness enveloping him. With each rhythmic advance into your core, he keenly senses the escalating tension in your body.
“Yoon,” you pant, the syllables a breathless plea that lingers in the charged air. Yoongi, attuned to your every reaction, halts his movements, his hand tenderly caressing your cheek. “I can feel you everywhere inside, fuck.”
“Is it good, or should we stop?” he asks, a genuine concern etched across his features. His desire is not just for pleasure but for your comfort and satisfaction.
“No, it's good for now, but I'll let you know if it gets too intense, okay? Maybe we can change positions then?” you inquire, your voice a sultry whisper that hangs in the air. As you sensually grind your ass down into his pelvis, fucking yourself on his cock, a soft moan leaves your lips.
Yoongi releases a low, guttural moan against the sensitive skin of your neck, his reverberating pleasure mingling with lust between you. His hand journeys down the curve of your hips, gripping them with a possessive urgency. In this tactile exchange, he finds stability, a grounding force that allows him to drive into you once more, each thrust a testament to the fervor building between you.
As you surrender completely against him, a harmonious synchrony of pleasure unfolds. Sensing the shift, he accelerates his thrusts, a rhythmic dance that quickens the desire between you. 
Yoongi inhales deeply against the canvas of your neck, and in a sudden, electrifying twist, you feel the graze of his teeth. Your body shivers with anticipation, and then he descends, sinking his teeth into your neck. Not too forcefully, but with a compelling intensity that sends a jolt of electricity down your spine. Your body responds in kind, grinding against his, and a sinful moan escapes you.
Then, with a sensual grace, he traces the path where his teeth had left their mark, his tongue delicately caressing your neck before placing soft, lingering kisses. Your response is a sultry mewl, the audible manifestation of pleasure, and in the electric aftermath, you feel a surge of arousal saturate his dick.
Breathless and on the precipice of ecstasy, you gasp, “Yoongi, I'm—,” the words trailing off into a passionate pant as he skillfully drives into you, each thrust an artful symphony of pleasure that transcends language, leaving you teetering on the edge of bliss.
“Hmm?”
His grip on your hips tightens, and with each deeper thrust, the world around you seems to blur as you swear that, despite the physical limitations of the position, you can feel him everywhere. It's an overwhelming sensation, almost too much.
“I want to change positions,” you pant, and in an instant, Yoongi withdraws, his response swift and attentive. With a purposeful motion, he turns you around, orchestrating a seamless transition that repositions you to face him once again.
“What do you want to do?” he smiles, his gaze tender as he caresses your cheek with the gentle strokes of his long, slender fingers. In the delicate dance of his touch, you feel an overwhelming sense of love and appreciation.
“I want to ride you,” you confess, leaning in to capture his lips in a soft kiss. As you pull away, a playful smile dances across your face, your eyes reflecting a potent mix of love and lust.
“Fuck, yeah, babe,” he breathes in eager agreement, turning to lie on his back. As you discard the pillow he thoughtfully fetched for you, you proceed to shed your nightgown, leaving both of you completely bare.
With a graceful motion, you hike one leg over his body, settling into a commanding straddle. Your hand confidently takes hold of his dick, aligning it with the eager warmth of your pussy again. A smile plays on your lips as you gaze down at him, relishing the empowering intimacy of having him beneath you in this moment.
His smile mirrors the adoration and appreciation he feels as he takes in every incredible feature of yours. As you descend slowly onto his cock, your face flushes a subtle shade of red, your quivering lips betraying the intensity of your desire. Your nipples stand proudly, and your gracefully rounded belly hangs low, a testament to the life you’ve both created and soon to welcome into the world.
God he loves you. So fucking much. In his eyes, you’re a goddess.
As you lower yourself onto his dick, a duet of moans escapes both of you, the soft stretch heightening the sensory experience. The angle of this position enhances the feeling, and in the synchronized exchange of pleasure, you both revel in the palpable sensation that binds you together.
“Fuck, Yoon!” you pant, the breathless exclamation escaping your lips as you reach the apex of his pelvis, his cock filling you up completely. 
“'Ah! It's so much better like this,” you moan, the words dripping with satisfaction and pleasure as you take control, beginning to ride him with a rhythmic motion. 
Yoongi's hands find purchase on your hips, their firm grasp not only steadying you but becoming an integral part of the rhythmic dance as you bounce on his dick. 
It's undeniably exquisite, the sensation heightened by the captivating sight of you taking control, sending Yoongi into a feral state of desire. The raw power of your dominance, setting the pace and depth, fuels an irresistible fire within him. Your expressions—those eyes closing in lust, the whimpering pleas—seemingly unravel his restraint, threatening to push him over the edge. 
“You look so good, bouncing on my dick. Such a good girl,” he pants, the words imbued with a husky appreciation. His hands, slightly squeezing your hips, become a tactile affirmation, letting you know that every movement is not just good but exceptionally arousing. 
You keen in response to his praise, a melodious symphony of pleasure that resonates in the air. Empowered by the encouragement, you guide yourself down deeper, every movement an exquisite dance that intensifies the feeling of being incredibly full.
“Yoongi, I don't think I'm gonna last long,” you pant, the admission hanging in the air like an electrifying confession. Sensing the imminent climax, you slow your movements, the deliberate deceleration amplifying the anticipation.
“It’s fine,” he reassures you, “I’m not going to either.”
You chuckle at him, the sound a melodic blend of pleasure and fatigue as you continue to bounce on his arousal. “I'm also so damn tired. This is challenging with my belly being this big,”
“I can take over if you want—or we can try another position?” His offer is laced with genuine concern, a desire to ensure you don't strain or tire yourself unnecessarily. 
“No! I love this. I want to ride you,” you moan, the words a passionate declaration as you sink down on him once more. The anticipation of your impending orgasm begins to unfurl in the depths of your stomach.
“Yoongi—, I'm close,” you pant, the admission a breathless revelation as you continue to move at a languid pace, the enticing rhythm showcasing the delightful bounce of your tits with each motion.
He has always been captivated by the allure of your tits—a mesmerizing aspect of your physicality that leaves him in awe. A part of him remains undecided, caught in the delightful dilemma of whether he prefers your tits or your ass, a choice he'd willingly forego, harboring a fervent desire for both.
Your hands find purchase on his sculpted pectorals, seeking support as exhaustion sets in, causing your movements to slow, each languid motion bringing you closer to climax. His gaze lingers on your face, a canvas painted with the intensity of the moment—sweat glistening, mouth slightly agape, and eyebrows creased in ecstasy as you fervently ride him, lost in the rhythmic dance of pleasure.
He senses a primal twitch within as he stays deep within you, and his gaze traces a path down your neck where the evidence of his love bite remains visible. Continuing his journey, his eyes appreciate the sight of your wonderful, bouncy tits.
Withdrawing both of his hands from your hips, they now tenderly grasp both of your tits. “These are so wonderful, as is every part of you,” he murmurs in a voice laced with appreciation.
You feel the walls of your pussy contract in response to his words of praise, a cascading sensation that culminates in a soft moan, his name escaping your lips like a whispered melody. 
He caresses your tits, their softness, fullness, and weight filling his palms with a tangible desire. As his hands explore, he discovers your perked nipples, rolling them between his fingers in a delicate dance of pleasure.
“Yoongi!” A high-pitched moan escapes your lips, the fervent cry echoing in the charged atmosphere as you throw your head back, surrendering to the pleasure of sinking down on him once more. 
He luxuriates in the splendor of your beauty, every facet of your amazing body a source of enchantment. Everything about you accelerates the rhythm of his heart, the butterflies in his stomach multiplying with each passing moment. 
He gives a gentle tug on your nipple, sending a surge of sensations through your body like an electric current, a simultaneous feeling of warmth and chill enveloping you in a paradoxical embrace.
You sense a delightful tingling sensation rippling across your entire body, a prelude to an impending climax that hovers tantalizingly on the edge.
“Shit, Yoongi, I think I'm gonna come,” you moan, the admission carrying the weight of impending ecstasy.
He grunts in response, the primal sound echoing the urgency of his own impending release. “I'm close too.”
You start to sense a delightful tightness in your breasts, with Yoongi skillfully alternating between rolling your nipples, tugging, and pinching them. The exquisite play on your sensitive peaks sends shivers down your spine. Simultaneously, you become acutely aware of the wetness between your thighs, a slippery testament to the overwhelming arousal that courses through your body.
The sound of skin on skin slapping resonates through the air, a visceral percussion that punctuates the charged atmosphere. The noise sends a jolt through your body, causing your muscles to tense in response.
The tingling and prickling sensation in your breasts intensifies, creating a crescendo of arousal that surges through your body. Then, in a sudden release, you feel the pressure in them subside, a wave of pleasure ebbing away like a tide.
Yoongi watches in awe as a gush of milk shoots out of your tits, creating a mesmerizing display that soon turns into a sensuous drip. His finger skillfully rolls your nipples, the fluid covering them and your tits in a glistening sheen of your breastmilk. Fuck it’s hot. He feels his dick twitch again, as he keeps looking at your tits.
You sense a wetness on your breasts and instinctively glance down, only to be met with a wave of horror as you realize you've begun lactating. In an instant, you cover your bobs, a mix of shock and embarrassment washing over you. The sudden shift in your body leaves you feeling vulnerable and a bit grossed out.
“I'm so sorry,” you begin, breathless words escaping your lips as you continue to fuck yourself on his dick. 
“You don't have to be sorry, babe. It's natural and sexy,” he reassures you with a loving smile, a genuine attempt to dispel any insecurity. His eyes, filled with both warmth and desire, convey a message beyond words—that he not only doesn't mind but finds the situation undeniably hot. 
“Please let me touch them,” he pleads with a rare vulnerability in his usually composed demeanor. 
You take a moment to contemplate, acknowledging that while you might not find it as inherently sexy as he does, the arousal sparked by his desire for you is undeniably enticing. Embracing the vulnerability, you lean in and press your tits closer to his face, your tummy meeting his, as you concede with a whispered “okay.” 
You release your breasts from your grasp, and like a magnet seeking its counterpart, his hands find them once more. With deliberate tenderness, he begins to massage your tts, each slow and deliberate stroke creating ripples of pleasure that resonate through your body. 
As you move up and down on his length, the kaleidoscope of emotions—love, lust, and adoration—mirrored in Yoongi's eyes sends a shiver down your spine. In that charged moment, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze, you feel like you could die a happy woman. 
His fingers resume their dance, skillfully rolling your nipples and coating them with the warm fluid of your breast milk.
With a newfound determination, you pick up the pace, fervently chasing the brink of your orgasm. Yoongi, fully immersed in the moment, continues to fondle your tits with an affectionate touch.
“Ah! Yoongi, it's so good!” you moan with a symphony of pleasure as you lower yourself onto him, and in response, he tugs a little harder on your nipples.
“Fuck,” you pant, breathless, the sensation of being so thoroughly filled with desire and pleasure overwhelming your senses.
As your stomach tightens, the internal coil finally springs free, and you unleash your slick juices on his dick. A surge of ecstasy washes over you, rendering your vision blurry, a temporary blindness overcome by the intensity of pleasure. A strange ringing noise fills your ears, and your body collapses against Yoongi's in a state of blissful surrender.
With remarkable speed, he intercepts your naked form before it collides with him, his strong and firm hands seizing your hips to anchor you on top of him. 
You man fervently, the echoes of your climax still reverberating through your body. In the throes of your descent from ecstasy, a desperate plea escapes your lips, “Yoongi, please fcuk me.”
With a firm grip on your hips, he squeezes them again, initiating a rapid and relentless pace of thrusting into you. The urgency in his movements mirrors the crescendo of desire building within him as he fervently chases his own impending orgasm. 
Fuck, it was hot to witness you unravel in such ecstasy. The lingering sensation of your walls pulsating around his dick lingers, as if you're tightly embracing him, and he revels in it. Being inside you, outside you, every facet of connection with you fuels a deep and insatiable love within him. 
“Fuck, babe – you’re so tight!” he moans in pure delight. As you sit up, a newfound intensity in your movements, your hands find your tits, skillfully rolling your nipples, and a rivulet of breast milk drips out. Fuck. That will be his undoing.
“Ah, babe—,” he moans your name with a drawn-out, languid tone, his eyes unable to tear away from the sinful allure of your face and the captivating sight of your incredible tits. 
Inexplicably, your walls continue to throb around him, coaxing an unbridled release from him. A guttural moan of your name escapes his lips, a primal declaration of the intensity of the moment, synchronized with the eruption of his warm seed, cascading into the depths of your pulsating pussy. 
“Fuck!” he pants, his thrusts persisting a few times before he deftly lifts you, positioning you higher on his stomach. In the aftermath of shared ecstasy, both of you lost in the haze of pleasure, the residue of your combined orgasms coats and binds you together, a slick and intimate testament to the intensity of lust.
“Ah…” you moan, a sultry melody escaping your lips as you descend into Yoongi's embrace. Despite the undertones of desire that lace your voice, he can't help but wonder what might be amiss as he sees pain etched in your face.
“What’s wrong, babe?” he inquires, his gaze locking onto your lustful eyes as he seeks to unravel the secrets veiled behind their desire-laden depths.
“I think I’m still orgasming,” you pant, rising once more, “it’s like my body won’t stop.” A shared gaze lingers between you, uncertainty flickering in both your eyes as the lingering waves of pleasure blur the lines between ecstasy and the unknown.
“Is it good or bad though?” he probes, a furrow forming on his brow as he attempts to unravel the mystery. “It’s not bad, but my tummy feels so tight,” your hand guides his to the firmness, and indeed, it does feel tight.
“Hmmm…” he contemplates the peculiar situation, his curiosity piqued but not overly concerned. “I’ll grab some towels and clean us up. Let’s wait a moment to see if it subsides, alright?”
You nod at him, then gracefully ease down from his lap, sprawling on your side, the remnants of passion and desire lingering in the air as you continue to pant for the sweet breath of satisfaction.
Yoongi gracefully rises from the bed, navigating the darkness of the night with an innate sense of purpose. He effortlessly locates your bathroom, skillfully secures a handful of towels, and returns to your bedroom with a quiet assurance, the dim shadows highlighting his silhouette as he prepares to tend to your shared aftermath.
“Here—, I–” With a sudden urgency, he tosses the towels aside as his eyes widen at the sight of you. Your figure is curled in on itself, hands instinctively cradling your stomach, every muscle in your body taut and tense.
“Yoongi, I think I’m in labor,” you declare, the gravity of the moment reflected not just in your words but also in the silent agony etched across your face, a shared understanding mirrored in the intensity of his gaze.
And then it hits him like a tidal wave; the tightness in your tummy was contractions. A surge of realization floods over him—shit, it’s happening. You're having your baby. In the whirlwind of emotions, he battles to remain calm, to steady himself for the pivotal moments ahead.
“Okay. Let's time the contractions and then call the hospital, okay?” he says, a sense of urgency in his voice, frantically searching for his phone on the nightstand.
“Let me know the moment you sense the beginning of a contraction,” he instructs, poised to start the timer.
“Right now,” you gasp, clutching your stomach tightly. The sensation grips you, an intense pressure, especially at the apex, and then, moments later, it releases. “It’s gone now.”
“Almost a minute,” he observes, his tone laden with the realization that you're edging closer to the throes of labor.
“Describe them to me. Are they intense? The pain worries me, seeing you in discomfort tears me apart,” he inquires, genuine concern etched across his face as he tries to understand what you're going through.
“Just a hint of pain, nothing unbearable. I can handle it,” you reassure with a soft chuckle, a resilient spirit shining through despite the discomfort, and he finds solace in your strength.
“Let's keep an eye on the contractions for about an hour, and then we'll give the hospital a call,” he suggests, retrieving the towels scattered on the floor earlier with a sense of urgency.
“While we wait, let me take care of you,” he proposes, coming closer with a towel. Gently lifting one of your legs, he begins to clean you, erasing the traces of our orgasms.
Your body quivers in response to his tender touch, eliciting delicate moans that dance in the air.
“Fuck. I don’t know why, but it’s turning me on, Yoon.” You moan softly, unable to explain the unexpected arousal, but your body instinctively grinds against the towel, turning a simple act into a sensual dance of lust.
A playful chuckle escapes him as he tends to your aftermath, skillfully cleaning you up. Satisfied with the tender care he has given you, he proceeds to clean himself up. Together, you reclaim your clothing, sitting down in your bed anxiously waiting for your contractions to pick up. 
As the cadence of contractions quickens, Yoongi takes decisive action, reaching out to the hospital to announce the fact that you’re in labor. With a voice poised between urgency and excitement, he navigates the conversation, detailing the progression of your contractions over the past hour. He wants to know how you should proceed.
As anticipation swirls in the air like a palpable force, Yoongi's voice resonates with a newfound sense of joy. “They've given us the green light to drive to the hospital,” he announces, his eyes reflecting the shared excitement. As you both perch on the edge of the bed, he turns to you with a practical inquiry, “Where did you stash your hospital bag?”
Your gesture guides him to the dresser, and with a graceful sweep, Yoongi retrieves your carefully prepared hospital bag. His voice, a comforting melody, invites you to join him, “Come, we can go now.”
Guiding you with a gentle hand, Yoongi accompanies you to the entryway of your home, a silent pact of shared determination. The darkness outside, coupled with the December chill, calls for the practicality of boots and a warm coat.
Assertively reaching for Yoongi's car keys, you declare, “I can drive.” The shift in Yoongi's expression is so abrupt, it's as if you've caught a fleeting glimpse of a storm cloud on a clear day, the sour twist on his face a testament to the unexpectedness of your statement.
His voice takes on a stern edge, swiftly denying your attempt to take the wheel. Yoongi snatches the keys from your grasp, his firm tone leaving no room for negotiation. “It’s not safe for you to drive in the midst of contractions,” he insists, a protective glint in his eyes amplifying the weight of his concern.
“But it’s not that bad,” you argue, why, you don’t really know.
“Look, babe. I know you can do everything by yourself, you’re strong, and I love you for it. But you’re not driving the car,” he says with a tone that brooks no argument, a gentle firmness underlining his love and concern for your well-being.
As you both prepare and the keys find their place in Yoongi's firm grip, you swing the door wide open, only to be greeted by a blanket of white—the snow-draped landscape stretching across the grass, road, and your car. To top it off, gentle snowflakes dance down from the heavens. Fuck.
“Ugh, it’s going to take forever driving into the city in this weather,” you grumble, trudging your way towards the car through the dense, snow-laden path. The flakes fall thick and heavy, making it difficult to see ahead.
Yoongi grumbles under his breath, popping the trunk to stow away your bag. With meticulous care, he ensures you've got everything essential for the journey. Satisfied, you both slide into the car, ready to face the challenges the snowy night has in store.
“It's going to be alright, babe,” he reassures you, his hand gently covering yours before tenderly moving to your belly. “Can't wait to finally meet you.” 
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Yoongi is accustomed to navigating challenging weather conditions on the road, his driving skills unaffected by the snow. However, the incompetence of other drivers in snowy conditions infuriates him. Inside the cocoon of your car, he vents his frustration, unleashing a symphony of curses directed at everyone causing chaos on the wintry roads.
“Ease up on the road rage, Yoongi. I don't want our little one picking up a vocabulary lesson in expletives before they even arrive,” you chime in, settling deeper into the seat, your concern for the baby evident in your voice.
“Babe, seriously, who ventures out on the road without a clue about driving in the snow? And it's the crack of dawn—why is everyone suddenly on a snow-day adventure?” Yoongi grumbles in exasperation, his frustration bringing a smile to your face despite the situation.
“Have you forgotten it’s Christmas time?” you quip, chuckling as he gapes at you, realization dawning on him. Damn, he had indeed forgotten.
“We haven’t even reached the city yet and there’s already so many cars,” he complains some more, and you let him. His voice, a melody that always soothes, even in the midst of chaotic Christmas traffic.
“They’re going home to their families—, watch out!” you point at the car in front of you, its headlights blazing like a comet in the snowy morning, almost blinding in their intensity.
Yoongi's keen eyes caught sight of the car in the opposite lane, and it became painfully evident that the driver couldn't navigate the snowy roads to save their life. Inexplicably, this inept driver seemed to believe they owned the road, arrogantly straddling both lanes. Distinguishing one lane from another was challenging in the snowy chaos, but it wasn't rocket science either.
Yoongi skillfully swerves the car to the side, narrowly avoiding a collision with the vehicle in front. The abrupt move sends a rumble through the car as it navigates the bumpy terrain, plowing through a massive mound of snow hastily shoved to the side.
The car grinds to a halt, Yoongi unleashing a string of colorful curses directed at the absent driver. Now, you find yourselves stranded in the unforgiving grip of the snow.
His concerned gaze shifts to you, seeking reassurance. “Are you okay, babe?” he asks, and although you appear unharmed, your response carries the weight of the unexpected. “Yeah, I'm okay. Just a bit shaken.”
As he hums a soothing melody, his attempts to reassure you echo in the confined space, yet beneath the surface, he senses the gradual erosion of his own calm demeanor.
“That fucking jerk,” his frustration intensifies as he hisses about the reckless driver, but you, amidst the escalating contractions, offer soothing reassurance, masking the growing urgency within the car.
“I'll assess the damage outside, okay?” he proposes, seeking your consent. You nod, delving into your bag for a snack, a sudden wave of hunger overtaking you amid the unfolding situation.
Yoongi steps out into the freezing cold, the car's engine humming in the background. He surveys the vehicle, searching for any visible damage, but to his relief, nothing appears broken or in need of immediate repair.
The towering mound of snow engulfs the car, rendering the hood invisible. Yoongi, realizing the severity of the situation, understands that extricating the vehicle from this icy trap is no easy feat. The sheer depth of the snow suggests a challenging predicament, one that requires assistance. Knowing you're in no condition to lend a hand, he contemplates the help he'll need to navigate the car out of this wintry predicament.
He reenters the car, discovering you engrossed in a candy bar, and a hearty chuckle escapes his lips.
Between bites, you inquire, “I was hungry. How's the car?”
“It's stuck pretty bad in the snow pile. Can't get it out myself,” he begins, but you interrupt with a smile, “I can help you with that.”
“Have you forgotten that you're in labor?” he laughs, his voice raspy from the cold outside. “And you're not going out to shovel snow. We don't even have shovels,” he adds, sharing a hearty laugh with you.
“I thought you had all kinds of things in the car,” you chuckle, finishing your candy bar with a mischievous glint in your eyes.
“Yeah, but not shovels,” his laughter resonates in the car, a contagious sound that brings a smile to your face.
“What are we gonna do then, just wait?” you inquire, a hint of worry coloring your voice as the realization dawns that you might not make it to the hospital in time.
“I’ll call Jimin and ask him to come help,” he declares, urgency in his tone as he swiftly pulls out his phone, dialing Jimin’s number with determination.
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Even in the early morning hush, Jimin's phone vibrates, and he glances at the caller ID to find Yoongi's name flashing. It's an unusual call at this hour, sparking an immediate concern that propels him to answer without hesitation.
“Hey, Yoongi hyung, something wrong?” His voice, tinged with worry and genuine concern, breaks the silence of the room as he answers the call. He rises from the bed, instantly alert to the unusual urgency in Yoongi's early morning summons. 
“We had a car accident,” Yoongi's words hang heavy in the air, shattering the tranquility of the room. Jimin's reaction is immediate, a storm of worry and disbelief brewing within him. He erupts from the bed, shouting into the phone, “What??” The sheer concern in his voice mirrors the gravity of the situation.
Yoongi's reassurance echoes through the phone, a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. “It's minor, relax,” he utters, and the calmness in his voice acts as a lifeline, pulling him back from the edge of panic.
“A guy forced us off the road, and we ended up plowing into a massive snowbank. Now, the damn car's wedged in tight,” Yoongi recounts, frustration coloring his words. Jimin, attentive, absorbs the details. “Think you can come lend a hand? Bring some shovels. I'll shoot you our coordinates,” Yoongi requests, the urgency evident in his tone.
Jimin readily agrees to help, his concern palpable through the phone. However, he can't shake the worry as he inquires, “Are you guys okay? And ___? How's the baby?”
“Yeah, we're all fine,” Yoongi reassures, his voice a bit raspy. Jimin strains to catch some muffled sounds on the other end, unable to discern the details.
He glances at the dropped location on his phone, “I can be there in about 30 minutes,” he assures Yoongi, swiftly rising from his bed to grab some warm clothes.
“Thank you, Jimin.”
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As the promised 30 minutes Jimin assured you passed an hour ago, he couldn't help but wonder if you were growing impatient with the prolonged wait.
Jimin spots your car on the roadside, its hazard lights casting an eerie glow, and he expertly maneuvers his own vehicle to a stop right behind yours.
He steps out, ready to retrieve tools from the trunk, but his attention is abruptly stolen by piercing screams emanating from your car. His muscles tense, and without a second thought, he dashes towards the source of the cries.
Why are you screaming? What's going on, and why are the windows so foggy?
With an overpowering urgency, he wrenches open the left door to the backseats, sending it flinging wide, the metallic screech echoing the urgency pulsing through his veins.
He hadn't anticipated the shocking scene that unfolded before him; there you were, legs pressed against the headrest on both the front and back seats, completely exposed from the waist down. He can clearly see your vagina. Fuck, your vagina is big—wait, something is coming out of it!
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Yoongi catches Jimin unabashedly staring at your vagina, prompting an eye roll from him. What's with Jimin? Having already witnessed your tits and now your vagina, it annoys Yoongi to no end. He's possessive; the idea of others seeing you in such a vulnerable state doesn't sit well with him. Sharing is not his forte.
He hisses sharply, capturing Jimin's attention, all while the symphony of your agonized screams continues to pierce the air.
“Stop looking at her vagina, man! You’ve seen enough of her, Jimin,” Yoongi snaps, frustration dripping from his words as your writhing form remains nestled against his supporting frame.
Jimin's eyes widen in disbelief, his mouth agape at the unexpected scene. He quickly redirects his gaze to Yoongi, his expression a mix of shock and apology as he stammers, “I—I didn't mean to, Yoongi, I'm so sorry!”
You clutch your thighs tightly, a guttural scream escaping your lips as the contraction envelops you. Once it recedes, you direct an exasperated shout at Jimin, “Close the damn door! You’re letting all the cold air in.”
Jimin snaps out of his daze, berating himself for standing there like a fool. Swiftly, he slips into the driver's seat, positioning himself to face the backseats with a determined look on his face.
“How long has she been in labor?” Jimin queries Yoongi, who glances up from your panting form for a moment before responding, “A few hours, actually.”
“You could have mentioned that when you called!” Jimin hisses in frustration. Not that the information would have made a big difference, given that the snow was the primary cause of his tardiness.
“But that’s a long time. I can see the head coming out,” he informs, prompting both you and Yoongi to exchange amused eye rolls.
“Yeah, she's crowning,” Yoongi adds with a soft stroke to your cheeks, his touch a comforting anchor as you brace yourself for another contraction.
“What can I do to help? I don't think we can get the car ready in time to make it to the hospital,” Jimin inquires, his gaze shifting between you and Yoongi with a mix of concern and determination.
“I already realized I’m having this baby in the backseat of a fucking car. Serves me right — getting fucked in a car, giving birth in a car. I’ve come full circle!” you laugh hysterically between contractions, the situation not lost on you. Jimin shifts uncomfortably in the driver's seat, but Yoongi remains a steady rock, his presence grounding you amidst the chaos.
As Yoongi directs his attention to Jimin, he suggests, “Maybe you could call the hospital and check if they can send an ambulance our way, just in case. I haven't had a moment to make that call yet.” His fingers trace soothing circles on your thighs, a stark contrast to the urgency of your sudden need to push.
Jimin's face reflects genuine concern as he admits he's never witnessed someone in labor before, only having gleaned insights from movies. However, a memory surfaces—advice from Seokjin after his girlfriend gave birth. “You can try changing positions, something where gravity can aid the baby's descent,” he shares, a eureka moment breaking through the tension.
Following Jimin's suggestion, you and Yoongi exchange a glance filled with gratitude and amazement. Acting on the advice, you shift positions, moving to sit over the seats with your upper body draped across them, your face turned towards the back. The atmosphere is tense, yet the three of you share a determined resolve in the face of the unexpected delivery.
With Yoongi's steady support, you manage to assume a half-standing, half-seated position, your body poised for the imminent arrival of your baby. Meanwhile, the car fills with the sound of Jimin's urgent voice as he communicates with the hospital over the phone.
“They are sending an ambulance now,” he informs.
Gratitude colors Yoongi's urgent request, a plea wrapped in the intensity of the moment. “Thank you, Jimin. Could you come back here and lend a hand?” he implores, a mix of worry and determination in his voice, as you cling to the rhythm of your breaths, navigating the storm of contractions.
He teases with a nonchalant shrug, “I thought you didn't want me looking.” Yet, it's clear he's here to assist you; after all, you're his ride or die, and in this crucial moment, his quip holds a trace of underlying devotion and readiness to stand by your side.
In a playful retort, he asserts, “Bold of you to assume I wanted you to look at her vagina again. There are other ways to assist, you know. I'll keep vagina watch—she's my wife,” emphasizing the relationship he shares with you, as Jimin exits the car to join you in the backseat.
Your tired yet grateful gaze meets Jimin's as you acknowledge, “You were right, Jimin. This position is a game-changer. The pressure has eased up a bit.” Despite the sweat-soaked exhaustion etched on your face, a soft smile conveys your appreciation.
For a second, Jimin doesn’t know what to do – can he touch you? Where? How can he help?
“Fuck it hurts!” Agony courses through you, each breath a struggle as you arch your back, a desperate attempt to wrestle against the relentless ache.
As the waves of pain intensify, he instinctively rests his hand on the small of your back, gently tracing soothing circles. To his relief, he witnesses the tension in your body slowly surrender to the rhythmic comfort of his touch.
Summoning all his composure, Yoongi bravely steals a glance downward, discovering a tuft of hair signaling the imminent arrival. Damn. He knows he must remain composed, steady—for you.
“How did you go into labor anyway? How did the water break, was it like in the movies?” Jimin launches into a barrage of questions, his curiosity pouring out like an unbridled stream. You shoot a glare his way, practically hurling invisible daggers in his direction at the audacity of his inquiries.
His hands continue their soothing circles on your lower back as he asks, “What?” Yoongi resurfaces, his expression a blank canvas.
And suddenly, realization flashes across Jimin's face. “You totally fucked! And then she went into labor!” he exclaims, a mix of shock and amusement in his voice.
You hiss in pain, your fingers clenching the seat with a vice-like grip, the intensity of the moment etched in the white-knuckle grasp of your hands.
Both your expressions affirm Jimin's earlier assumption, a silent confirmation that lingers in the charged air of the confined space.
“Shit, I can’t do this,” you gasp, exhaustion etched across your face, your body seemingly on the brink of surrender.
“You're almost there, babe. It's safe to keep pushing,” Yoongi reassures you with a tender kiss on your cheek, but you push him away, a fiery glare in your gaze.
“This is all your fault. You and your damn big dick!” you scream at him, and he understands, recognizing it as your pain talking and not the real you. Jimin chuckles from beside you, and you turn to give him a death glare, saying, “Don’t act so innocent, Mr. ‘I think Yoongi likes you.’”
“But I was right. And now you're about to have his baby. It's going to be okay,” Jimin reassures you, his hand gently rubbing your back.
“Just relax,” Jimin adds.
“Easy for you to say; a baby isn't shooting out of your body,” you huff, the intensity of your anger subsiding.
“I know it hurts, babe. But focus on your breathing, and when you're ready, push with all you've got,” Yoongi encourages, leaning in to kiss you on the lips.
The kiss sends electric shivers down your spine, and strangely, it acts as a calming balm, making the pain feel somewhat more bearable.
When he pulls away, he notices the lingering frown on your face, and a sense of curiosity washes over him. “It was nice, Yoongi. I think it helps alleviate the pain,” you admit, your voice a mixture of exhaustion and appreciation.
“Kiss me again,” you pant, your desperation echoing in the quiet space of the car. Yoongi obliges, capturing your lips with a hunger that elicits a moan from deep within you. In that stolen moment, the world fades away, forgotten in the intoxicating blend of passion and the rhythmic circles Jimin traces on your back.
“Don’t mind me. But I think the baby is coming, I can see more of its head just from here,” he informs, his eyes wide with a mix of awe and amusement. Yoongi's gaze follows Jimin's, confirming the imminent arrival. 
He positions his hands underneath your core, preparing to catch your baby as soon as it emerges. Yet, your screams of pain prompt a plea, “Please distract me with kisses,” you cry out, your hands clenching around the seats in a desperate search for relief. 
Yoongi glances up at you, your pain evident, and the desperate desire for relief palpable in your eyes. However, he's torn between wanting to provide comfort and being there to catch and deliver your baby. A moment of realization dawns upon him – he can't be in two places at once, something Jimin seems to realize too.
Yoongi gazes at Jimin, a silent plea for guidance evident in his eyes, but Jimin, with a mischievous grin, utters, “You've got two choices, hyung – catch the baby or let me kiss your wife. What's it gonna be?”
Yoongi gapes at him, astounded by the audacity Jimin displays in even suggesting such a choice. He's acutely aware of his own possessiveness, and Jimin knows how much he fucking wants to deliver his own child. He’s caught between a rock and a hard place.
With a sense of urgency, you turn your head and implore, “Do something! I don't care who kisses me, just someone, please!” Your plea echoes with a mixture of sternness and desperation, the pain coursing through your entire body amplifying the need for any distraction.
Yoongi moves with unwavering determination, ascending once more. “Fine. Deliver the baby. You're going to be the godfather anyway,” he grumbles to Jimin, reaching your head and pressing his lips plush against yours. Instantly, you relax, a moan escaping in the midst of the chaos.
“I am?” Jimin questions, uncertainty lacing his voice. Yet, he positions his hands beneath your vagina, mirroring Yoongi's earlier gesture.
You eagerly press your lips to Yoongi's, seeking out his tongue in a passionate exchange, panting and moaning in response to the surge of arousal coursing through you. Amid the heated kiss, you offer affirmative murmurs to Jimin, your desires spoken through the intensity of the embrace with Yoongi.
“It's working, the baby is coming out,” Jimin exclaims with a mix of excitement and focus, his hands securing the baby's head with delicate precision to ensure a safe descent into the world.
Yoongi abandons your mouth, tracing a fiery path down to your neck, his lips leaving a trail of searing kisses and tantalizing bites. Your response is an involuntary groan, a symphony of pleasure escaping your lips, as you gasp out, “Fuuuck, Yoongi.”
“The head is completely out now!” Jimin’s voice breaks through the intense moment and in response, you instinctively grab Yoongi’s head, pulling him back up into a passionate kiss.
As your lips entwine in an ardently sensual dance, the symphony of pleasure resonates, eliciting increasingly fervent moans from you.
Breaking away, you gasp, “Fuck. Why does it feel like I’m coming?” Your breath comes in pants, and you sense a relieving tightness escaping your body.
Jimin swiftly takes charge, catching the remainder of your baby as it emerges, and Yoongi lends his support, ensuring Jimin's hands remain steady in the crucial moment.
The infant rests gently between your thighs in the hands of both Yoongi and Jimin, and as you gasp for air, you steal a glance downward. There, your precious baby lies, serene and silent. A moment of quietude settles in, and a disquieting realization begins to dawn upon you—silence, in this context, isn't the reassuring sound you anticipated.
Dread courses through you as you breathe heavily, realizing the absence of that expected newborn cry. Without hesitation, you extend your trembling arms, pulling your baby up against your chest in a desperate embrace.
An air of tension hangs heavy, mirrored in the anxious expressions on Jimin and Yoongi's faces, both men holding their breath, awaiting the sound that should signify life's beginning.
In an instinctual surge of emotion, you tear your shirt to shreds with one hand, cradling your newborn against your bare chest. Shock registers on both Jimin and Yoongi's faces as they witness this raw display of maternal instinct, captivated by the power and determination radiating from you.
As you gently rub the baby's back, waves of sadness wash over you, and tears stream down your face. In a choked voice, you express your fear, “This is why I should have delivered in the hospital. What if something happened to the baby and it's...gone?” The last part of the sentence catches in your throat, too emotional to articulate fully.
In the confined space of the car, you twist around, pressing your back against the seat as tears cascade down your cheeks. The anguish in your body is palpable, each sob causing a tremor that echoes the pain you're enduring.
In an instant, a second cry intertwines with yours, and you lower your gaze to behold your baby, tiny and fragile, yet alive. A surge of relief floods through every fiber of your being, mirrored in the eyes of the two men who exchange a profound, knowing glance.
Clutching your newborn close, you haven't even taken a moment to check the gender, but in this raw and tender moment, it hardly matters. All that echoes through your soul is the reassurance that everything is alright.
Overflowing with gratitude, your voice carries a symphony of love as your eyes dance between your husband and Jimin. “Thank you, both of you” you whisper, your heart swelling with the depth of the moment.
Yoongi whispers, his voice a tender melody, “You did incredible, babe,” as he leans in to press a gentle kiss against your cheek, his words echoing with admiration for your strength and resilience.
“No problem at all. You were amazing, ___,” Jimin commends, leaning back into the seat beside you, his hands stained with blood, that he wipes off on his pants.
“Jimin, could you check the trunk for some thermal blankets?” Yoongi requests, his gaze tenderly fixed on your baby, who has quieted down and now rests peacefully against your boobs—what he believes to be the most comforting place.
Jimin returns with a bundle of blankets, and Yoongi, with a sense of urgency, joins him in carefully wrapping you and the baby. The blankets cocoon you both, shielding you from the biting cold as you patiently await the arrival of the ambulance.
“Should we find anything to cut the cord with?” In a sudden burst of practicality, Jimin scans the car, his eyes searching for anything suitable to cut the cord.
“No, no. I've read that the baby can stay attached for hours and even days. So I'm fine waiting to do it in the hospital,” you say, your voice carrying a mixture of fatigue and overwhelming love. Your eyes remain fixed on your baby, and you don't glance at Jimin as you express your decision.
Then, a sensation grips your attention, warmth and thickness enveloping you between your legs. As you cast your gaze downward, the revelation dawns upon you – it's the placenta.
“You guys might need a new car,” Jimin breaks into laughter and Yoongi looks at him perplexed, before he scans the state of the car; it’s filled with blood, anatomic fluid and God knows what else. He reckons you’ll have to burn it, if it can’t be cleaned.
Half an hour post-delivery, the ambulance team arrives like guardian angels, swooping in to cradle you in their capable hands as they whisk you away to the sanctuary of the hospital.
Jimin swiftly summons roadside assistance, ensuring a caretaker for your stranded car, while he maneuvers his own vehicle through the snowy streets to the hospital.
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Nestled in the hospital room, you're navigating the nuances of new motherhood. The compassionate nurses guide you through the art of breastfeeding, and you're determined to master this intimate dance with your newborn.
Beside you, Yoongi shares in the enchantment, both of you reveling in the miracle of your beautiful baby girl, awestruck at the realization that you've crafted this extraordinary little being together.
Gazing into his eyes, a kaleidoscope of love, affection, and adoration, he whispers, “I love you, babe,” before tenderly leaning in for a heartfelt kiss.
“I love you too, Yoongi.”
Jimin sweeps into the room, a harbinger of warmth and color, bearing a bouquet of your favorite purple flowers. Your heart flutters as you press a grateful kiss to his cheek, expressing your thanks.
Deep gratitude colors Yoongi's voice as he wraps Jimin in a tight embrace. “Seriously, Jimin, thank you for everything,” he murmurs, sincerity etched in his words. Jimin, with a warm smile, responds, “It's no problem. You're welcome.”
Clutching Jimin's hand, you squeeze it tightly, your eyes reflecting sincere appreciation. “No, thank you. I would never have made it without you,” you express, the gravity of your words resonating in the room.
You express your heartfelt appreciation, looking directly at Jimin as you speak. “You are my best, best friend, Jimin. I love you and thank you,” your words carrying the weight of genuine gratitude. Jimin meets your gaze with tenderness, carefully keeping his eyes on your face, mindful of not stepping on any toes with Yoongi, not that there's anything he should be worried about.
“She’s really cute—the baby, I mean,” Jimin throws his hands up in mock defense, unable to contain his admiration. His genuine enthusiasm shines through as he revels in the adorable sight of your newborn.
Yoongi begins with a playful smirk, “Relax, Jimin. You're allowed to call my wife cute and pretty, and occasionally sneak a glance at her assets if the situation calls for it; like a birth or a bra mishap—but nothing more.” He chuckles, wrapping up his words with a friendly hug, leaving Jimin with a mix of relief and amusement.
Jimin's laughter resonates in response, and just as the sound fills the room, the door swings open, ushering in the rest of your friends.
They flood the room with warm greetings, and your eyes quickly catch Jungkook, who enters with a whimsical unicorn plushie and a vibrant bouquet in shades of purple, pink, and blue.
“These are for you,” he beams, thrusting the bouquet towards Yoongi, who delicately places them on the table beside you.
“Congratulations,” the boys chime in unison, closing in to catch a glimpse of your precious little one.
You shift your baby in your arms, delicately adjusting your gown to reveal the other breast for feeding. With each nourishing moment, you sense post-contractions coursing through your body, a gentle reminder of your uterus gradually returning to its normal size.
Jungkook, Taehyung, and Namjoon inadvertently direct their gaze toward your breasts, drawing Yoongi’s attention. However, Seokjin interjects sternly, “Enough, guys. Show some respect. Quit staring at her breasts while she's feeding. You've seen other breasts before; let's not be rude.”
Jimin lets out a chuckle from his position beside you on the bed, quietly noting that the others should consider themselves lucky that Yoongi didn't snap at them for sneaking glances at your breasts.
“Starting today, a strict no-gazing policy is in effect for anyone trying to sneak a peek at my wife's breasts or her vagina,” Yoongi declares, shooting a pointed yet appreciative smile in Jimin's direction.
Confusion flickers across the faces of all the guys as their gazes shift between Jimin, Yoongi, and then you, signaling that something intriguing might have unfolded.
As their jaws drop in surprise, you casually spill the details, “He played a crucial role in delivering the baby and got an unexpected front-row view of my vagina in the process.”
Yoongi clenches his jaw, his gaze piercing through the room as he asserts, “Yes, that happened. Eyes off—especially you two,” he warns, shooting a stern look at Jungkook and Taehyung, who quickly avert their eyes.
Jungkook hesitantly clears his throat, his curiosity overcoming his apprehension, “___, what's that on your neck?”
A rosy hue tints your cheeks as you recall the passionate love bite that Yoongi left on your neck just before the chaotic journey into labor began, and you find yourself cursing your husband under your breath for the intimate moment that now decorates your skin.
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What do you think??? Any kind of feedback is much appreciated ✨
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floralcyanide · 2 months
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ᴡᴀʟᴋ ᴏɴ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ ᴏʀ ᴅʀᴏᴡɴ — ᴄᴀʟʟᴜᴍ ᴛᴜʀɴᴇʀ
callum turner x afab!reader (nsfw)
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You and Callum are camp counselors. Both of you are up to no good one night and share an intimate moment.
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✣ warnings: smut, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, sex in a lake, cigarette smoking, female anatomy described, nipple play, semi-public sex, fingering
✣ word count: 1.7k (idk how it came out so short)
✣ author’s note: thanks to a friend for the camp counselor idea and making me feel things lol and thanks for all the votes for this fic! I enjoyed writing it.
masterlist | divider credit: @cafekitsune
this fic has been cross posted to ao3.
ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.
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“Have you ever smoked a cigarette before?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Want one?”
You stare at the cigarette in Callum’s outstretched hand, hesitant to take it. Your legs stop swinging on the dock where you’re perched next to the tall boy, your hand reaching out to take the cigarette from his fingers. You stick it between your lips, silently asking with your eyes, “Is this how I do it?” He nods encouragingly, sliding a match across its box and cupping the end of the cigarette with his hand before lighting it. The action alone sends butterflies raging in your stomach. You puff the cigarette, inhaling slowly so you don’t cough. Exhaling, tendrils of smoke leave your lips, and Callum watches in awe.
“You hit that like you’ve been smoking all your life,” Callum chuckles as you pull the cigarette from your mouth and offer it to him.
“Nah,” he says, “it’s all yours.”
The two of you are counselors at the summer camp outside your city and definitely were not allowed to smoke while on the campgrounds. You also weren’t supposed to be out past curfew. But the thrill of being caught is what gets to you. Callum just does it because his pretty face can get him out of any trouble. You stare out at the lake that seems to go on forever in a black abyss to the horizon. Callum bumps his knee into yours as you finish the cigarette, somehow managing not to cough too terribly much.
“Wanna skinny dip?” Callum suddenly asks, a giddy smile on his face.
“What? Are you delusional?” you laugh, putting out the cigarette on the wooden dock.
“Maybe,” he shrugs.
You search his eyes for any signs of him joking but see none.
“You’re serious?” you ask, looking around to ensure no one is listening.
“Deathly.”
You stare at each other momentarily before bursting into a quiet fit of giggles. 
“Fine, but we gotta be quiet.”
You’re glad it’s dark so Callum can’t see the full extent of your body. But also disappointed that it’s dark because you can’t see Callum without his clothes, as much as you’d like to. Ever since the first day of orientation for counseling, you’ve been unable to keep your eyes off him. He seems to feel the same as you but less subtle. Callum has done nothing but flirt with you during the first two weeks of camp. Not that you mind, of course. But skinny dipping in the lake past curfew seems like a full-fledged affair. 
Callum rips his shirt over his head, tossing it where his shoes sit neatly by the dock entrance. He then stands to discard his pants, and you watch in silence, unable to move as you drink in what you can see of Callum in the moonlight. You realize you’re staring and hurry to remove your own clothes, but you're hesitant to take off your underwear until Callum does. You avert your eyes quickly as he does so. You aren’t that experienced in seeing the male physique naked, given you’ve not had much experience with sex in general. Sure, you’ve given a blowjob here and there, but nothing past that. Maybe Callum's flirting is just for fun, and he isn’t expecting anything. Not that you’d say no to him starting something, though. After all, why not? He’s cute, polite, great with the kids, and isn’t bad to look at.
Your thoughts are interrupted when Callum slides off the dock and smoothly into the water. He surfaces after submerging himself fully, swiping his hair from his forehead.
“Coming?” Callum grins, wriggling his eyebrows.
“Yeah, but don’t look,” you say shyly, reaching behind your back to unclasp your bra.
Callum closes his eyes but, unbeknownst to you, peeks through one of his eyes to watch you shimmy out of your underwear. He hurries to close it back when he sees you slip into the lake. The water is comfortable as the sun had warmed it earlier in the day. You swim over to where Callum is, stifling a laugh as he pumps his fist in the air at you, joining him.
“Never would’ve thought that little ol’ you would be skinny dipping,” Callum shakes his head, tutting at you.
“Well, I definitely wouldn’t do it with anyone else,” you say honestly, and Callum smiles softly at you.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Callum sinks lower into the water until his chin is just above the surface.
You copy him, your eyes locked on his. Callum reaches out and tucks some hair behind your ear, the gesture sending chills through you despite the warmth of the lake. He swims closer to you, his legs nearly kicking against yours.
“Can I ask you something?” 
“Sure,” you say.
“Would it make things weird if I kissed you?” Callum asks, his eyes flickering to your lips.
“No,” you shake your head, “I don’t think it would.”
Callum lifts a hand from the water to cup your cheek, the moonlight shining in his eyes as he leans in to kiss you. You let your eyes flutter shut as his lips press to yours, those butterflies from earlier returning. Both of you aren’t too far out in the water, so you can easily plant your feet on the bottom to anchor yourselves. Callum snakes a hand to your waist, his fingers gripping your skin slightly. He takes advantage of being near the shallows so he can pull you close to him without worrying about sinking. Callum deepens the kiss by catching you off guard and letting his tongue sneak into your mouth. One of your hands finds the back of his hair, water dripping onto his neck and your fingers. His hand slides up your side, his thumb brushing over your breast, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin.
“Is this okay?” Callum asks, pulling away but barely parted from your lips. 
“Yeah, I just,” you bite your bottom lip, “I’ve never…” you trail off nervously.
“Never?” Callum raises his eyebrows, “A pretty thing like you?”
Your ears burn as you glance down awkwardly, “Never.”
“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. I wouldn’t want to take your virginity in a murky lake,” Callum snorts.
“Even if you did, I wouldn’t care where it was. I like you, Cal.”
Callum flashes a smile at you, “I like you too.”
“You can do as you please. I don’t mind,” you say, “It’s about time, anyway. I’m not getting any younger.”
Callum chuckles at your last comment before grasping your breast under the water, letting his thumb wander over your nipple again, “Don’t worry, I’ll be slow with it.”
You shudder as Callum does it again, leaning in to kiss you once more as he teases you. He moves from your lips to your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses there as he plays with your breasts, eliciting soft moans from you. You hope you don’t get caught. You brush that out of your mind as you let your hand move to Callum’s length, slowly pumping it until it hardens. He groans into your skin, kissing your shoulder gently. He lets his focus move from your upper body to your lower body, his fingers tracing your clit with softness. You move close to Callum until you’re against his chest for leverage, letting him play with you. He slips a finger inside you, your eagerness allowing it to go in without much struggle. Callum uses his thumb to swipe your clit as he adds another finger, curling them inside you and stretching you out deliciously. You bury your face in his neck, whimpering at the warmth spreading in your belly. Callum can feel you clenching around his fingers, noting you’re ready for him.
“Let me know if I need to stop,” Callum whispers in your ear, nipping the skin of your lobe as he lines himself up with your entrance.
You wrap your legs around his waist, and your arms are around his shoulders as he slowly pushes himself into you. It comes with some resistance as you’ve never had anything inside of you before, so Callum allows you to take deep breaths and relax before pushing anymore. He cards his fingers through your hair, encouraging and telling you how good you’re doing. It makes you take him easier, your cunt swallowing him nearly whole. Callum finally bottoms out, letting himself feel you around him for a second before pulling out slightly. He thrusts back in steadily, careful not to be too rough. After adjusting, you allow Callum to start fucking you properly, and you’re honestly shocked you didn’t do this sooner.
“Fuck,” you screw your eyes shut, gasping as Callum hits your g spot with a particularly harsh thrust.
“Just like that,” Callum says as your walls suck him in, “Doing so good, love.”
Your fingernails dig into his back as you bounce on Callum’s cock, him bucking his hips into you simultaneously. Callum takes advantage of your breasts being near his face as he clasps onto one of your hardened nipples, flicking it with his tongue and sending waves of electricity through you. Everything is clouding your head with pleasure as you feel yourself growing close. Callum grips your hips, his fingertips boring into your skin as he feels himself growing close, too.
“You can cum inside me,” you say in Callum’s ear, and he curses under his breath at that.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
Callum plummets his hips against your thighs as you move yours in fluid motions, feeling him at every angle. He nudges your clit with his thumb again, and you tumble over the edge, clenching harshly around Callum’s length. The feeling of your cunt squeezing him and the filthy sounds you’re making in his ear make him cum without warning. You feel his warmth inside you as he shudders against your neck, leaving soft kisses along it.
“You did great,” Callum says, slowly pulling out of you.
You catch your breath, glancing around to see if anyone is nearby. Thankfully, you’re still alone, “That was amazing.”
“I’m glad,” Callum says.
“Let’s get out, I’m getting all pruney,” you cringe.
Callum laughs and agrees before realizing something. 
“Didn’t think to bring towels,” he sighs.
“Race you to the showers, then?” you grin as the two of you climb back onto the dock.
“Get ready to be beaten.”
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slobstation · 3 months
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James (son of Apollo) Potter trying to get Regulus (son of Hades) Black to be more comfortable at camp because he is terrified of hurting others since he found out his dad is Hades and is since- terrified of touching or going near others.
So James (possibly a masochist) Potter dragging Regulus out to train and keeps trying to make Regulus angry and keeps pushing, pushing, pushing until Regulus finally punches him and James is like “HARDER.” and Regulus is just like “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU????”
yeah. but on a real note james letting himself be injured for the sake of others always- gut wrenching.
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eraenaa · 3 months
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Jealousy, Jealousy (Demi-God AU)
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Aemond, Son of Ares x Reader, Daughter of Aphrodite
Sequel to Stereotypical but could be read as a standalone.
Synopsis: It’s frustratingly hard to keep admirers and doubts away when you and your partner are the most attractive and powerful Demi-Gods in camp.
Warnings: Mature, 18+, P in V sex, Unprotected Sex, Semi-Public Relations, Jealousy, Not Proofread
Word Count: 3,358
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Aemond knew being with you, the prettiest girl in camp— whose beauty could almost rival Aphrodite’s would come with the pathetic adoration of other boys. He thought it would not bother him— that he was mature enough and secure enough in himself to remain un-phased, but he was sorely wrong. 
Ever since the both of you had confessed your mutual attraction, you had requested to keep your relations between the both of you. Fearing to be labeled that your relationship was stereotypical— that it was cliche for the both of you to thread the path once walked by your godly parents. Aemond was hesitant, he wanted to shout it through the whole of camp and Olympus that he has you— that he was blessed enough by the gods to be with you. But when you flashed Aemond a pleading look and took his calloused hands into yours, giving it a pleading squeeze… all he could do was sigh and agree to your request. His heart stuttered as you flashed him your gorgeous smile and kissed his lips in a quick peck. 
Aemond clenched his jaw as he trained once more; you were sitting by the bench minding your own business, adoringly watching him, when all of a sudden, a group of boys started to approach you and offered their adoration— as they always did. Aemond thought he was above jealousy. That his pride would not lower itself and fret over the attention of puny boys, but as Jacaerys boldly stepped closer to you and the sons of Apollo tried to get a hold of your hand, Aemond was possessed by the rage that consumed his father. 
He was ready to march over to where you were seated and challenge all the boys before you to a duel— he was ready to fight for your hand. To make it known to everyone that you were his. But you stood and gave them a polite smile before walking away, looking back at Aemond, a silent language in your eyes for him to follow you. Aemond dropped his sword and promptly left the training grounds.
You waited by a tree line for Aemond. Wanting to spend the afternoon with him in your private spot by the lake. You were hidden behind a willow tree, unknown by anyone.  As you hear footsteps approaching, you cannot help but grin and peek from behind the mossy tree trunk. However, your grin was quick to wilt when you saw Aemond being stopped and chatted by a daughter of Athena. Aemond had a reputation for being indifferent to everyone save you— so it bothered you terribly when you saw a small smile pass his lips whilst talking to one of the daughters of the goddess of wisdom. 
Your eyes narrowed, and your fists clenched at the unwelcome pitting of your heart. They say your mother was an overly jealous woman— you thought you would be saved from that trait, but you were sorely wrong. Your lips unconsciously pouted as you stomped away, disregarding your and Aemond’s silent agreement to meet by the lake, instead going to Helaena and Aegon to find comfort and distraction from the gnawing feeling inside you. 
Aemond waited by the lake until sundown. Sitting on a log, patiently waiting for you but you never came. Aemond confusedly went to dinner in search of you, but you were not there. He would pass his gaze to the table where your brothers and sisters sat, waiting for you to grace their presence— worrying him that you had skipped a meal. “Pathetic,” Aemond then heard his sister, who sat across from him, mutter under her breath, removing his gaze at the table you would usually be in. “What?” He asked. “You, you’re growing pathetic.” She said, “I hold you in high regard, brother— I used to understand why father favored you. But to watch you grow into a simpering simpleton for a girl? A daughter of Aphrodite, no less? It’s pathetic.” Aemond painted a confused, offended, and angered expression on his face. “What in the gods’ name are you saying?” He gritted out. His sister simply scoffed. “Did you truly think I would not notice? That she has you sneaking out in the middle of the night, breaking curfew as well— that you’re skipping and cutting your training short to be with her on the lake? Sneaking in contrabands to give to her as gifts? She has you wrapped around her fingers like her mother had done to our father. It’s pathetic.” Before Aemond could defend, his sister stood and walked off, leaving him to question his actions. Was he truly growing pathetic?
You lay in your bed as your siblings returned from dinner. Your fingers play with the necklace pendant around your neck. “We need to talk,” Your eldest brother sighed, making you frown as your siblings gathered around your bed. “About what?” You asked, taking hold of the plush toy your father had given you back in the mortal world. “We’ve noticed you’ve been sneaking around with a son of Ares,” your sister said. You feigned innocence and cluelessness. “What?” You asked in fake confusion. Your brother scoffed and shook his head, moving to sit on the foot of your bed. “Do not try to deny it, sister. We’ve seen you attentively watch him while he trains— we noticed you sneaking off with him to the lake.” You frown as he reveals them knowledgeable of your and Aemond’s relations; you thought you hid it well. “So what?” You said after a short moment of steely silence. “I like him,” You confessed. 
“We know, it’s obvious.” Another of your brothers answered, making you blush. “We’re just asking you to be cautious,” Your sister sighed and gently took your hand. “The offsprings of Ares are known to be… harsh,” she added. “Yes, they do not know nor understand of the delicateness of us— we just do not wish you to be hurt, sweet sister.” You slowly nod your head, appreciative of their concern but disheartened as they show slight disapproval. “Plenty of us have already been scorned by a child of our mother’s past paramour— we just hope you would not befall the same fate,” Your frown and confusion deepen. “You— you have been with…” you trailed as you gazed into their eyes. “We have. What? You thought it was only you who retells our mother’s past?” Your brother mused. “It’s called a stereotype for a reason, sister. It is as if we are bound to fall for a son or daughter of the god of war.” 
You blinked as they recalled their relations with Aemond’s siblings. Sitting in disbelief as you had asked him to keep your relations secret because of fear of being judged for succumbing to the same fate as your mother’s, but it would seem as if it were inevitable and somehow well-oriented and circulated as if it were a right of passage for the children of Ares and Aphrodite to fall for each other. 
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The following morning, neither you nor Aemond knew what to do. Both of you were still jealous of the attention each of you was bestowed upon, and both of you were subjected to the opinions of your siblings. It was as if they were giving the two of you reasons not to continue your relations that both of you had longed to be a part of. 
Aemond had a consistent scowl on his face as he trained. Your eyes were no longer on him as he did so. He did not have the desire to train earnestly because, if he was being honest, he did most of his stunts to impress you. 
You had a small fake smile plastered on your face as you conversed with the other girls in camp. Complementing you as they fixed your hair and asked about the little things and rituals you do to be so pretty. You wanted to tell them it was because of your mother, but you did not want to offend or dismiss them. 
A daughter of Hypnos was speaking when your attention was caught by the same daughter of Athena, sauntering to the training ground with a sly smirk on her lips as she approached Aemond. The jealousy in you returned tenfold. Your heart was ablaze with seething anger. Your brows were in a furrow, and you pouted and almost sneered. Aemond had not spoken to you all day, yet he had the gull to stop his training to make chitchat with her? 
You were brought out of your angered thoughts when you noticed Jacaerys approaching you. Telling yourself to keep your expression neutral and not be as obvious as your sisters and brothers had said you were. “Hello, Jace,” You greeted as he approached you, who was perched upon a picnic table. The group of girls who surrounded you turned their gazes on the son of Hephaestus, making his knees weak. 
Aemond turned his attention away from a daughter of Athena as he heard your voice once more. Anger and rage swirled within him as he saw Jacaerys in your presence again. His hold on the hilt of his sword tightened, and his jaw clenched as he saw a smile bloom into your plush lips and a twinkle in your eye as the Son of the God of forge presented you with a gift. 
“It’s so pretty,” A girl beside you muttered as you held the mirror Jacaerys had made for you. “The handle and frame are made of gold… because I remember you saying it suited your complexion. And I added pearls because you said you loved pearls.” Aemond rolled his eyes as he heard and saw Jacaerys stuttering and blushing as he explained his gift to you. “Thank you, Jacaerys… It’s beautiful.” You said gratefully as you stared at yourself in the handheld mirror. Aemond could no longer hold in his frustrations. Dropping his sword to the ground with a loud clank that caught everyone’s attention. You and him finally locked eyes, anger, and jealousy in both. Aemond silently implored you to meet him by the lake once more before turning and walking away.
Aemond returned to the lake and sat on a blanket he had brought there late last night, hoping he would find you there once the moon was high and everyone was asleep; he didn’t. It took a few moments before he heard your delicate footsteps approaching him. You slowly sat beside him, a gap between the two of you that was never there before. “Are you playing me?” Aemond could not help but ask as both of you stared into the lake. You frown deeply at his question. Your hands fiddling with the gift just given. “What?” You ask and watch as Aemond clenches his jaw. “You say you want me but want to keep us a secret. You’re supposed to be with me, yet you happily entertain the wall of admirers who follow you around like lost pups.” 
You look at him dumbfounded, a scoff leaving your lips. “You’re one to talk; you say my presence is the only one you enjoyed and entertained, yet I see you merrily speaking with a daughter of Athena,” You argued. Aemond, filled with anger, was distracted as the words left your lips— jealousy clear in your eyes, and he could not help but feel giddy at the thought of it. Your frown deepened as Aemond’s lips were pursed, turned into a smirk. “You’re jealous,” he mused, his tone of amusement evident. You rolled your eyes and crossed your eyes across your chest. “You’re jealous too,” You say in defense. Feeling your heart skip a beat when Aemond pulled you into his arms. 
You sigh and feel the tension you harbored for the past two days miraculously fade. “I’m sorry if I asked you to keep us a secret… I did not want them to think our relationship was stereotypical… but I suppose there’s no point in keeping it a secret any longer— it’s practically bound to happen.” You say as Aemond rests your back on his chest, his chin resting atop your pretty head. “What do you mean?” Aemond’s chest rumbled behind you as he spoke. “My siblings warned me against you— most of them apparently had been scorned by your siblings,” You explained, feeling Aemond’s hold on your waist tighten. “My sister says I’ve been growing pathetic since I’ve been with you,” He shared, making your heart pit at his words. 
Aemond took in a deep breath at the silence that followed his statement. “Let us ignore what they say,” Aemond then spoke. You looked up at him expectantly. “They do not get to dictate us around… I like you tremendously, and I know you feel the same way about me,” You smile at his confidence and certainty. Moving to intertwine your fingers, his calloused hands against yours, you quite like the juxtaposing feeling of your soft hands against his rough ones. You sighed and kissed the back of his hand, “I’m sorry for growing jealous about you chatting with other girls,” You sighed as you gazed into Aemond’s eye. “Don’t be. I quite like it.” He smiled, making you laugh. You looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to apologize for growing jealous. Your smile turned into a confused look, making Aemond shake his head. 
“If you’re waiting for me to apologize for being jealous, then you’ll have to wait an eternity, my pretty,” Aemond stated. “You’re mine, and your pathetic little admirers must know of it.” He grumbled, making you mischievously smirk. “Then let it be known.” You say. Aemond knitted his brows as he gazed into your eyes. You moved closer to him, lips just a breath away. “Show them how I’m completely yours,” you whispered. Aemond pulled you to him and smashed your lips. Wasting no time to sneak his tongue in and taste you. You whimper against his lips as nipped yours. You sighed as he moved to straddle him, your cores familiarly aligned again. “Aemond,” You called as his lips found your neck, leaving marks and doing as you had said— making it known to everyone that you were his. 
You moaned and moved your hips as his hand hurriedly took off your shirt and cupped your breast. His lips still placed marks on your neck and would tease you as they would move slightly downwards but never fully. “Aemond,” You whined as he placed a ghost kiss atop the swell of your bosom. “Hm?” He hummed, pretending not to know what you wanted. “What do you want, pretty girl? Tell me,” He hummed and took a deep breath of your scent. “You— I want all of you,” You said and moved to remove his own shirt as well, Aemond feeling gooseflesh rise to his skin as successfully removed his upper clothing. “Are you certain?” He asked, his hand hovering atop the clasp of your brassiere. “I am,” You answered and bit your lips as he quickly undid your brassiere, exposing your chest to him. Taking a sharp breath and resisted the loud moan to escape your lips as his mouth closed upon the pebbled bud that seeks his touch. 
You moved your hips quicker, wanting to find the same sensation the both of you felt in the ocean, and Aemond groaned against your chest. You feel your breathing shallowed as his rough hands slowly hike up your skirt. Closing your eyes in anticipation, you hear him undo the zipper of his trousers. You gasped as you felt his hands graze your cloth-covered sex. “You’re already so wet for me,” He murmured against your chest and tilted his head to meet your lips again. You ground your lips against his hand, making him smirk. “You really want me, don’t you, pretty girl.” His voice was smug, and it only bolded as you fervently nodded your head. 
You whimpered once more as he pushed your underwear to the side, his fingers finally meeting the slick skin of your cunt. Relishing at the friction his rough and large hands provided. You buried your head into the crook of his neck, moaning Aemond’s name as he relentlessly drew circles on the pearl of your cunt. Gasping in shock as his other finger sought entrance into you. You hear Aemond curse under his breath, his other hand tightening his hold around your waist. You moaned louder as the familiar sensation in your core returned, and Aemond hummed in approval as you tightened around his finger. impatient to replace with his cock. 
“Aemond!” You shrieked as you came undone, him singing you praises as you slowly came down from your high. Watching through lust-filled eyes as he brought his fingers to his lips and licked the essence of you clean. You had barely time to react and relish the scene before you when you felt the tip of Aemond’s shaft seek entrance. Your eyes widened as you sank into his length. Aemond hushes you, and places kisses on your skin to distract you from the pain. “Fuck,” Aemond breathed, completely overwhelmed by the feeling of you. Warm and overly tight around him. 
“It’s too much— Aemond, I—“ Tears welled in your eyes as you were subjected to pain like you’ve never felt before. Aemond wiped away a tear that fell and kissed your lips. Drawing circles upon your cunt once more to ease your pain. “Just a little more,” Aemond groaned as the whole of him was almost inside you. “So fucking tight— all fucking mine, you’ll forever be bound to me,” Aemond muttered against your skin as you let out a whine when you fully sank into his length. Both of your breathing shallow, cautiously moving in search of pleasure. 
You whimpered as his hips moved, and he removed his fingers from your cunt. It was a painful moment of cautious thrusts and your whimpers and whines before you finally felt the pleasure you always tied with Aemond. “Oh… faster, Aemond— I want more, please,” You said as you met your hips with his. Moving up and down on his length,  your nails scratching his back in sheer pleasure. The tears of pain turned into pleasure. Aemond groaned and tilted his head upward to meet your lips, his skin tingling from your touch. His cock twitching, ready for release, but he could not do so until you’ve met your high again first. 
Aemond let out a sound close to a growl as your hands fisted his hair. Surprised, he found the sensation of you pulling the silver locks added to his pleasure. You whimpered as you bounced on Aemond’s length. Your bosom swaying across Aemond’s face, and your cunt painfully tightening around him, ready to come undone once more. “Scream my name when you come— let them hear how you are mine and how I am yours,” You did as told and uttered his name in pleasure as you came— neither of you wary that the sounds that emitted from either of you would catch other’s attention and would put you both in trouble. Aemond buried his head between your bosom and let your skin stifle his groan as he came deep inside you. “All. Fucking. Mine.” He gritted and pulled your face downward to meet his lips. The warm afternoon sun that was quick to set bathed you both in its orange light. 
When it was time for supper, you and Aemond walked into the hall hand in hand. You, with his marks on your neck and a deep blush on your cheeks, and him, with a rare grin on his lips and cocky look in his eye as your admirers looked at him in a jealous rage. You two did not sit with your siblings, instead acquiring a table of your own, ignoring the curious stares of everyone as a son of Ares fell for a daughter of Aphrodite. Stereotypical, yes, but it did not matter because you two coming together was written in history and would always be bound to happen. 
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keegansgf · 4 months
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Camp counselor Mizu sketches for funzies
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