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#Maybe I start a new tag for this idea in mind specifically?
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Getting Started with Erotic Hypnosis
[I don’t really use Tumblr anymore, but I’m crossposting this from Fet to have somewhere public to link to it! These days, I’m most active on Twitter @sexobsessedlesb, my smut lives on ReadOnlyMind, and my files live on YouTube.]
So you've heard some folks evangelizing at play parties, you've read some hot smut, and you've decided you're excited about Erotic Hypnosis™. Well, I don't blame you, cuz it's objectively the hottest kink (she said, objectively). But how do you start practicing it for yourself? I mean, you can do what I did and just sort of flail until you somehow found yourself firmly embedded in the community, but if you want a slightly less chaotic approach, here's where I might start:
Read(/Listen)
The "Bible of hypnokink" is Mind Play by Mark Wiseman. This is probably the best place to start for anyone interested in this kink!
9 Persisting Misconceptions About Hypnosis, a zine by sleepingirl and GleefulAbandon
Two Hyp Chicks is a delightful, educational, and often v hot podcast about hypnokink by sleepingirl and cckitten.
Hypnotic Amnesia by Lee Allure and DJ Pynchon is a bit more niche, but still a super neat window into how this kink works and one of the specific, rad things you can do with it.
Wank
Go read/watch some porn. Seriously. There are some links in the preamble above, I'll wait. Take the porn with a grain of salt, because it's not necessarily realistic, but it can definitely give you a sense of what parts of this play turn you on, which will help you figure out what in the hypno-sphere you actually want to get up to. A handful of specific suggestions:
ReadOnlyMind is the shiny new hub for hypno-smut and smut for its related kinks!
In particular, the #real-play tag (and probably handful of analogous tags) contains smut about erotic hypnosis as it's practiced in real life, rather than fantasy mind control stuff
The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive is probably the biggest repository of written material, though also very inconsistent in quality, and can be Problematic(tm). Still, it has been responsible for many orgasms in its time
Mesmerotic: real hypnokinksters doing real hypnokink and being extremely fuckin’ hot about it!
Entrancement: this is the real deal. Erotic hypnosis done by an actual erotic hypnotist, it actually gives you a pretty good idea of how this sort of play might work
Jukebox is a rad and particularly prolific writer. I mention him in particular because he has so much stuff out there that if you browse his archive, you're sure to find a story or two that catches your eye
Other authors that I particularly like:
My smut lives here
h-sleepingirl
EllaEnchanting
Ari (see also: Tumblr)
And dream-operator
Go to Classes
Honestly, the best way to learn about this stuff is to go to classes! Look for your local hypnokink group—if you live in/near a reasonably-sized city, I bet you have one—or go to one of the many rad hypno cons out there. Here's a list of groups and conventions.
You can learn from people who have been doing this for a while, and maybe even more importantly, just meet some people!
Meet Humans and Chat
You can find experienced hypno-players with whom to shoot the shit either in person (at classes/cons/events) or on the interwebs. There are a lot of us on Twitter (e.g. I'm over there as @sexobsessedlesb, look at the folks I follow) and a few stragglers remaining on Tumblr.
It's also pretty probable that your local hypnokink group has an online chat (e.g. a Discord server). Ask!
Practice
Honestly, this is the hardest and most useful part. If you wanna get into this kink, practice is key! It's the only real way to develop these skills—and this is true on either side of the pocketwatch, as it were. How to do it, though?
With a play partner
As either a 'tist or a subject, it's easiest to learn the ropes with an experienced partner to guide you through. You can find play partners at events or on the interwebs, as mentioned above. (Note too that hypno is particularly well suited to long-distance play—you don't need to be in the same place with these folks to practice with them!) I'd add: at kink events, mention hypno in your cruising post! There are hypnokinksters everywhere, I bet you'll get some responses.
You can definitely practice this stuff with someone else who's new to the game, though, as long as you both communicate lots! Talk about what does and doesn't feel good, and experiment until you find stuff that works for you. And don't hesitate to reach out to your hypno-scene contacts for help and advice!
For 'tists: if you feel uncomfortable making up your own inductions, you can start reading from scripts, to get a feel of how hypno works! But I'd encourage you to start making stuff up as soon as possible, because it helps you gain fluency, and ultimately makes you a better hypnotist.
By yourself
Self-hypnosis is a great way to practice hypnokinky stuff! There are a lot of greatttt hypnosis files out there. Some folks I'd particularly recommend:
My stuff :-)
Lee Allure 
Chew Toy
The Secret Subject
Ella Enchanting
DeepDiscourse
Impish
Tennfan
Imaginatrix
Sinister Denial
For hypnotists: if you're comfortable with it, I definitely recommend trancing a little yourself, just so you can get a feel for what it's like, and better understand your subjects' experience. Regardless of whether you personally want to practice trancing, I'd still recommend listening to some files and getting a feel for how other hypnotists do things—it'll help you develop your own style!
With a pro
Paying a professional for a session—whether it’s play or a lesson—is a great way to dip your toe in hypnokinky waters while knowing that you’re in good hands. Check out:
Dahlia Lark
Imaginatrix
Sinister Denial
Lee Allure
Anyone in the Twitter-spheres of these fine folks
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honey-lemonz · 2 years
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If you can, could you do another sub Kokushibou smut x Male reader pls when he is  training to get stronger in the forest and starts thinking about the reader and then sits down on a tree stump. He starts to touch him self then the reader finds him and ya Idk I was bored when I made this up.
Sure! Another Yasumebe fic!
Info: this is a continuation of a previous post from me about Kokushibou being a sub to Yasumebe [name]. Please go read that fic because a little references to that. Also I'm allowing tags to happen now and if you want a personalized on for a specific post please PM me! Okay I'm done talking and read the warnings babes!
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Warnings: NSFW, Smut, cursing , matsturbation, hate-fucking, biting, spit, begging, possessive nature, mentions of urination, overstimulation, bondage( just Koku being tied up), sub Koku, Hard Dom reader, enemies-to-lovers(maybe)fuck, humiliation kink, degrading and dirty talk, anal fingering, face-fucking.
3.1k words
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT PLEASE
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Kokushibou never envisioned himself in such a pitiful state. Never sensed himself falter in his steps at the mere thought of the event that unchangeable shaken his life to pieces of heaven. 
The dreaded encounter with his new arch-nemesis, the archer demon.
Yasumebe [Name].
A long (hair colored) demon with a phoenix’s slayer mark running up his jaw and face towards the start of his hairline. A demon with lazily fitted clothing that exposed his chest and abdomen happily without a care. The same demon who has a deep-toned voice that allows him to slip his words into one’s ear so sultry-like that it’s evident he has a deeper purpose underneath. A man who stands for his craft of the arrow rather than the generic swordsman craft of his original time. A man who carried scars that looked like lightning carved from the gods themselves in heaven. 
Yasumebe [Name] wasn’t a man who feared death, rather he challenged life. Something Kokushibou himself wished to say for himself that he could do perfectly. To walk a line as he does of honor and regret. But Kokushibou also held deeper ambitions with the archer demon. 
The six-eyed demon was known to go missing from his post of stay, leaving the infinity fortress for weeks on end. His master was too obsessed with the idea of infinite perfection and conquering the sun that either he didn’t care or noticed him being gone. Not that it matters anyway.
Kokushibou’s mind was busy with conflicting and impulsive thoughts about himself. The humiliation of his failure to kill the Archer demon and also getting into a promiscuous situation and feelings for him. The archer was his hated figure, nothing more and nothing less.
But why is it that this demon constantly tangled himself into the mind and likes of upper rank one of the infamous twelve kizuki? Why is it that he is always on edge and feeling his needy tendencies arise? His cock ached from time to time and so did his prostate and cunt. What was the issue? No amount of masturbation and fingering appeased the urges. The forceful attitude, the smirk, and the goodness in the voice of the archer surrounding him and his twitching cock made him audible moan. So pathetic.
Kokushibou rested at an abandoned estate he stayed at times when this happens, which isn’t as rare as he pleases. Constantly cupping his hand on his cock, slowly and roughly pushing his fingers into his needy anal cunt and the groans of a whore he hated but needed. He hated his weakness so much it turned him on in hopes his moans would reach the man he wished would send him into the release he desperately ached to achieve. When he feels his fingers graze his prostate while covered in his cum and own fluids while his other hands slowly drag along his erect cock and press his finger to the tip and rub it quickly with a tiny bit of pressure. The feeling was close to extraordinary but it was so close yet so far. His nipples were erect, his face was sweating and his clothes were saturated in his fluids of sweat, blood, and cum. His legs shook as his supernatural stamina allowed him to keep up but his mind was delayed. The night filled with his pants and grunts. The strong upper rank begged like a dog for release in his mind that the presence coming behind him resting on another tree in the grand forest was not even a threat. Demon slayer, he could easily kill them with a look, another demon? He could kill happily and tell his master they threatened his superiority.
But instead, Kokushibou felt a hand cup the back of his neck and forcefully shove him into the grass below. The demon’s mind snapped quickly to primal instinct and was going to kill whoever pinned him and came about him in such an intimate time. Not to mention when he was so close to climax and then falling short of his arousal.
But instead of being ready to kill Kokushibou became relaxed oddly and aroused when the voice he dreamed about and fancied whispered darkly in his ear. The feeling of his bare chest pressing into his back and the feeling of his ass pressing against his cock and feeling the thickness outline his hakama pants. The hand around his neck readjusted on it and pressed against the front and Kokushibou’s Adam's apple. The squeeze despite most being afraid of suffocation or choking and the obstruction of air and blood only Kokushibou feel the grip points of his fingers and knuckle strength only wanted to obstruct blood and not airflow.
But why? The wind blew along both of them and the archer spoke.
“You truly are a whore for me? You’re lucky your cunt felt so fucking good around my cock or else I would have killed you. Be happy I decided to be nice and give you the pleasure you undeniably want so badly. So be a good whore and moan pretty for me.”
The demon looked at the oncoming horizon, he was a little later than he wanted to be but the feeling of Kokushibou grinding his pretty ass against his clothed cock settled in his mind what he (needed) had to do. The demon called out a name and slowly the atmosphere around them changed. “Notei!” the world shifted and turned into a dark bedroom only lit by candles and a soft fusion rested on the tatami matted floor. Kokushibou’s mind gained blood supply again after the archer released his grip. The six-eyed demon noticed he couldn’t move his limbs and was exposed. He cocked his head to see what the problem is.
Ropes…shibari.
The ropes held him tightly and restricted movement, when he did wiggle the ropes tightened. The smell of iron was evident in them. “Blood demon art? How did I, when-?” The door to the room opened, then closed. No one entered. Kokushibou then felt his iconic ponytail slowly fall and his wild raven locks were free. He tried to flip himself back to see who was behind him but instead, he was forcibly pushed back forward. He heard a grumble. The voice from earlier.
“You sleep for too damn long. You begging me to stuff your cunt but yet you pass out as soon as your face hits the dam futon. Tying you up was also a pain. Gods, your cunt better feel as tight as when I fucked it before. Wasting all this damn time on a whore like you.” Kokushibou’s eyes widened. How long has it been since he opened his eyes? Where was he? 
Kokushibou felt two cool hands rest on his torso and one on his bare thigh. All of his was naked. His cock throbbed as he could feel the teasing look on his back. The archer demon leaned his head onto his shoulder blade and spoke.
“You want to be touched upper rank? You want your cunt to be bred and full of my cum? Do you want to get your mouth stuffed with my cock? You want to be my pretty cocksleeve and slut for all of eternity?” Kokushibou’s eyes widened. To be his and used as his…forever. To be [Name’s] personal fuck toy? Kokushibou felt his brain be much as he nodded feverishly and keened in the shibari-styled ropes. He moved fervently. The archer chuckled and the hand resting on his thigh touched his cock tip. The precum and throbbing were unbelievable on him.
“Use your words upper-rank whore. Tell me what you want. Either I can get you off and kill you or I can use your body as my cum-dump. The choice of your fate. Your master can’t save you anymore.” Kokushibou struggled as his thumb pressed into his tip and his other hand tweaked his sensitive nipple. For being so envious and stubborn, Kokushibou answered quicker than accepting Muzan’s blood. 
“Please! Please Yasumebe, please let me be yours! I swear I’ll give you my loyalty please let e be your plea-” Kokushibou bent himself to lean into the archer while his cock released thick ropes of cum onto [Names] hand. The archer smiled devilishly and moved quickly to touch the aching cunt and probe his fingers into Kokushibou’s anal canal. The demon fingered his middle finger slowly while the upper rank moaned and whined. His fingers lightly grazed his prostate and continued tweaking his nipples. Kokushibou closed his eyes in bliss. [Name] wiggled another finger into his asshole and tried to probe at his prostate. Kokushibou when his finger did touch his prostate jerked and moaned loudly at the undeniable relief and felt his cock tip throb and precum lubed his cock perfectly. Yasumebe himself felt his cock harden. “Your greedy cunt is begging to get fucked, but first you need a little encouragement.
Yasumebe stood behind Kokushibou and made the six-eyed demon backward on his kneeling thighs. Leaned him back right into his bulging cock. The upper-rank demon unconsciously nuzzled himself into [Name’s] thigh and used his bottom set of eyes to see up at him. [Name] removed the confines holding the thick member and it sprung into life. Hitting his upper pelvis, Yasumebe pressed the tip to Kokushibou’s lips.
“Open wide upper rank, I’m being kind enough to be slightly gentle despite you tempting my patience. You bite me and I’ll cut your dick off. Got it?” Kokushibou opened his warm mouth and pushed out his tongue, [Name] despite his promise’s threatening message did gently hold Kokushibou’s neck and push himself into his mouth. The graze of his canines was threatening to his manhood but gods did his mouth feel as heavenly as his cunt.
The archer hissed in pleasure and pushed himself deeper into the upper ranks tightening his throat. Feeling his bob his head as best as he could be so divine that he felt conflicted to touch him in the process. But did he? No. Instead, he bucked his and gently began to rut into Kokushibo’s mouth. His taste, smell and aura was so addictive and strong. Just the image of strength on him was heavenly. Thrusting into his mouth with the gages, pants of breath, and spit threatening to spill down the eyes of the upper rank was absolute bliss for [name]. To look down on him and see him fucking his mouth with his cock tentatively and the outline being so visible. Gods did he miss this fool's body and it being so desperate for a good fuck. Kokushibou felt the spit from his mouth and tongue dribble out his mouth in pools, almost getting into his eyes. Tears spilled along with his as Yasumebe kept fucking into his mouth. He wanted the taste of his cum in his stomach, to feed off it.
Yasumebe pulled off and in a large gasp, Kokushibou tried to push against the floor and get back his cock in his mouth but [Name] held his jaw tight. Using on-hand to undress his upper body. He pulled Kokushibou up by now his hair and made him kneel on his heels. Looking up at [name] only with tearful eyes and a slobbered face the archer only asked one thing.
“What are you?”
“Your fuck toy,” Kokushibou whispered into the thick air, the smell of sex present and he was covered in it. His upper eyes closed completely and only the lower two sets were open. [Name] yanked his head back by his hair and gripped his jaw with his other hand and made him open wide.
His tongue licked up Kokushibou’s cheek and the spit drooled down his neck and spit back into his mouth. “Swallow.” 
He gulped his spit and opened up again. Kokushibou felt the intense stare he had him in and at the moment he didn’t care how pathetic he looked. He was so desperate for whatever sources of torment he wanted to put him into. Suddenly [Names] tongue was down his throat in a heated kiss with the upper rank reciprocated happily. The groan he felt when their tongued moved against each other so perfectly. With a sound pop! The demon’s lips were connected by a string of spit. [Name]] pushed Kokushibou back onto the futon and settled between his legs. Kokushibou’s cock throbbed and jerked with the slightest of touches. [name] chuckled as he yanked his hair once more and told him. “You better get used to this upper rank, once is get into the needy and greedy cunt. I’m not going to stop. Piss yourself if needed but I’m keeping your word as a cum dump.” 
[Name] alined his cock head with the Kokushibou’s ass-pussy and pushed in slowly. The upper-ranking demon moaned loudly and bucked his hips as cum from his cock again spurted out. Yasumebe took his still erect and hard cock, jerking it roughly but slow as he pulled out of Kokushibou’s cunt. The six-eyed demon whined at the loss and wanted the sensation of being so full and the thickness he desired so badly that he nearly fucking screamed and cummed when [Name] started pistoning him roughly. The demon moaned continuously as the archer abused his prostate and aching cunt. 
This repetitive feeling building in his stomach made Kokushibou fear he was going to cum again but wanted to feel [Names]. Yes, he wanted to feel his cum fill and breed him so badly that it hurts. His whines of frustration made the archer bite down on his thigh harshly making blood spill out. The demon cocked his head up to see [name] licking up his blood but also digging his razor nails into his flesh. Pulling out his abused hole, [Name] flipped himself over. His nails must have released the lower set f robes but kept Kokushibou’s arms tied together.
[Name rested on his back, relaxing on his upper arms.
“I don’t think I need to explain to you, but I’m not doing all the work this time again upper rank.” Kokushibou moved quickly to settle onto his lap and ease his way down onto his thick cock. The mushroom tip pushing upward into his felt like heaven and with [name’s] hand jerking him, his cum covered Yasumebe’s stomach. Kokushibou keened over as he finally settled down and ground his hips slowly on the archer's lap. The moans and grunts in the room were so raw. [Name] slapped and groped Kokushibou’s ass and leaned up to suckle on his nipples. Kokushibou sensing him wanting more and again wanting to please him for his dying satisfaction, began to bounce on his cock which he threw his head back for. [Name’s] other hand started to untie the ropes behind them.
Once his hands were freed Kokushibou wrapped them around the demon’s head and ran his fingers through his scalp moaning in pure bliss. Begging to be touched again after feeling the knot in his stomach tighten again. “Pah-Please [name]! Please-let me fuck- please touch me! Please kiss-!” Kokushibou whined and moaned thinking his pleas weren’t going to be heard but he was wrong. 
“Well since you begged like a god slut, why not?” Yasumebe mumbled into his ear and allowed Kokushibou to take the reins and kiss him feverishly. Gods his cunt was swallowing his cock so good that [Name] didn’t know if he could last any longer. 
Feeling the knot in his stomach snap Kokushibou's moans were covered by the kiss and the connection between the two was covered in more of his seed. The archer groaned and lifted the six-eyes demon up and thrust upward, pounding his cunt and chasing after his climax. The upper rank moaned loudly and shook in overstimulation.
With a final snap of hips upward the archer demon, [name] moaned as he filled the upper ranks cunt. The euphoria the demon felt was surreal. Kokushibou went limp and numb. Yasumebe groaned as he filled him more and more. Not even daring to move out of his hole. Within the next few moments of rKokushibou were a blur.
One moment he is feeling [name] pull himself out and the next he feels something warm across himself. More so all around himself. What was the meaning of this? Kokushibou opened his eyes to be sitting in a tub and the archer wearing different clothing than before. How did he pass out again? “I see the aphrodisiac worked perfectly in your favor upper-rank. Had me fulled you were going to go against me in the beginning. Luckily thanks to your confession and adorable fucked out face I knew it to be true.”
Kokushibou tried to stand but his legs didn’t move.
He smelt the faint scent of a flower-like aroma- “Wisteria poison.” He wanted to question but it came as a statement.”Hmm? Yes, I’m happy you can tell now that you don’t reak of my cum. You should be grateful I cleaned you up and offered you plenty of rest after our first round.” The archer put on the large iconic hat he and other samurai from his era were known to wear. He walked up to the tub and forcefully grabbed Kokushibou’s face. A good lick up to his first set of eyes to make him shudder for good measure.”I do believe you are confused huh upper-rank one? Am I correct?” Kokushibou didn’t speak. 
“Well since you want to be rude about it, during your fucked-out stage and even before then when I used your throat as my own fleshlight. You pledged your loyalty to me. Therefore I assume you do know whatever I say and want you will complete. The bite on your leg should have healed and left a little token of my hospitality.”
The archer let go of his hair and walked out of the bathhouse room. The demon quickly lifted his legs to check what in the world he spoke about- it was the insignia of a phoenix. A small fiery bird curled on its own. Kokushibou felt a rush of memories flood back to him. 
His eyes widened, his tongue. The poison was laced within his tongue, the aphrodisiac, the kiss, and the bite-. “He planned this.” Since he had seen Kokushibou in the forest and go to rest in the abandoned estate, he planned all of this. Kokushibou sat to himself in the tub quietly. The coals in the room kept the bathhouse warm. He oddly wasn’t enraged or upset.
Rather he was happy. Happy that the archer he hated so much, was his. He was yours.
“Finally…relief.”
END <3
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fozmeadows · 3 years
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race & culture in fandom
For the past decade, English language fanwriting culture post the days of LiveJournal and Strikethrough has been hugely shaped by a handful of megafandoms that exploded across AO3 and tumblr – I’m talking Supernatural, Teen Wolf, Dr Who, the MCU, Harry Potter, Star Wars, BBC Sherlock – which have all been overwhelmingly white. I don’t mean in terms of the fans themselves, although whiteness also figures prominently in said fandoms: I mean that the source materials themselves feature very few POC, and the ones who are there tended to be done dirty by the creators.
Periodically, this has led POC in fandom to point out, extremely reasonably, that even where non-white characters do get central roles in various media properties, they’re often overlooked by fandom at large, such that the popular focus stays primarily on the white characters. Sometimes this happened (it was argued) because the POC characters were secondary to begin with and as such attracted less fan devotion (although this has never stopped fandoms from picking a random white gremlin from the background cast and elevating them to the status of Fave); at other times, however, there has been a clear trend of sidelining POC leads in favour of white alternatives (as per Finn, Poe and Rose Tico being edged out in Star Wars shipping by Hux, Kylo and Rey). I mention this, not to demonize individuals whose preferred ships happen to involve white characters, but to point out the collective impact these trends can have on POC in fandom spaces: it’s not bad to ship what you ship, but that doesn’t mean there’s no utility in analysing what’s popular and why through a racial lens.
All this being so, it feels increasingly salient that fanwriting culture as exists right now developed under the influence and in the shadow of these white-dominated fandoms – specifically, the taboo against criticizing or critiquing fics for any reason. Certainly, there’s a hell of a lot of value to Don’t Like, Don’t Read as a general policy, especially when it comes to the darker, kinkier side of ficwriting, and whether the context is professional or recreational, offering someone direct, unsolicited feedback on their writing style is a dick move. But on the flipside, the anti-criticism culture in fanwriting has consistently worked against fans of colour who speak out about racist tropes, fan ignorance and hurtful portrayals of living cultures. Voicing anything negative about works created for free is seen as violating a core rule of ficwriting culture – but as that culture has been foundationally shaped by white fandoms, white characters and, overwhelmingly, white ideas about what’s allowed and what isn’t, we ought to consider that all critical contexts are not created equal.
Right now, the rise of C-drama (and K-drama, and J-drama) fandoms is seeing a surge of white creators – myself included – writing fics for fandoms in which no white people exist, and where the cultural context which informs the canon is different to western norms. Which isn’t to say that no popular fandoms focused on POC have existed before now – K-pop RPF and anime fandoms, for example, have been big for a while. But with the success of The Untamed, more western fans are investing in stories whose plots, references, characterization and settings are so fundamentally rooted in real Chinese history and living Chinese culture that it’s not really possible to write around it. And yet, inevitably, too many in fandom are trying to do just that, treating respect for Chinese culture or an attempt to understand it as optional extras – because surely, fandom shouldn’t feel like work. If you’re writing something for free, on your own time, for your own pleasure, why should anyone else get to demand that you research the subject matter first?
Because it matters, is the short answer. Because race and culture are not made-up things like lightsabers and werewolves that you can alter, mock or misunderstand without the risk of hurting or marginalizing actual real people – and because, quite frankly, we already know that fandom is capable of drawing lines in the sand where it chooses. When Brony culture first reared its head (hah), the online fandom for My Little Pony – which, like the other fandoms we’re discussing here, is overwhelmingly female – was initially welcoming. It felt like progress, that so many straight men could identify with such a feminine show; a potential sign that maybe, we were finally leaving the era of mainstream hypermasculine fandom bullshit behind, at least in this one arena. And then, in pretty much the blink of an eye, things got overwhelmingly bad. Artists drawing hardcorn porn didn’t tag their works as adult, leading to those images flooding the public search results for a children’s show. Women were edged out of their own spaces. Bronies got aggressive, posting harsh, ugly criticism of artists whose gijinka interpretations of the Mane Six as humans were deemed insufficiently fuckable.
The resulting fandom conflict was deeply unpleasant, but in the end, the verdict was laid down loud and clear: if you cannot comport yourself like a decent fucking person – if your base mode of engagement within a fandom is to coopt it from the original audience and declare it newly cool only because you’re into it now; if you do not, at the very least, attempt to understand and respect the original context so as to engage appropriately (in this case, by acknowledging that the media you’re consuming was foundational to many women who were there before you and is still consumed by minors, and tagging your goddamn porn) – then the rest of fandom will treat you like a social biohazard, and rightly so.
Here’s the thing, fellow white people: when it comes to C-drama fandoms and other non-white, non-western properties? We are the Bronies.
Not, I hasten to add, in terms of toxic fuckery – though if we don’t get our collective shit together, I’m not taking that darkest timeline off the table. What I mean is that, by virtue of the whiteminding which, both consciously and unconsciously, has shaped current fan culture, particularly in terms of ficwriting conventions, we’re collectively acting as though we’re the primary audience for narratives that weren’t actually made with us in mind, being hostile dicks to Chinese and Chinese diaspora fans when they take the time to point out what we’re getting wrong. We’re bristling because we’ve conceived of ficwriting as a place wherein No Criticism Occurs without questioning how this culture, while valuable in some respects, also serves to uphold, excuse and perpetuate microaggresions and other forms of racism, lashing out or falling back on passive aggression when POC, quite understandably, talk about how they’re sick and tired of our bullshit.
An analogy: one of the most helpful and important tags on AO3 is the one for homophobia, not just because it allows readers to brace for or opt out of reading content they might find distressing, but because it lets the reader know that the writer knows what homophobia is, and is employing it deliberately. When this concept is tagged, I – like many others – often feel more able to read about it than I do when it crops up in untagged works of commercial fiction, film or TV, because I don’t have to worry that the author thinks what they’re depicting is okay. I can say definitively, “yes, the author knows this is messed up, but has elected to tell a messed up story, a fact that will be obvious to anyone who reads this,” instead of worrying that someone will see a fucked up story blind and think “oh, I guess that’s fine.” The contextual framing matters, is the point – which is why it’s so jarring and unpleasant on those rare occasions when I do stumble on a fic whose author has legitimately mistaken homophobic microaggressions for cute banter. This is why, in a ficwriting culture that otherwise aggressively dislikes criticism, the request to tag for a certain thing – while still sometimes fraught – is generally permitted: it helps everyone to have a good time and to curate their fan experience appropriately.
But when white and/or western fans fail to educate ourselves about race, culture and the history of other countries and proceed to deploy that ignorance in our writing, we’re not tagging for racism as a thing we’ve explored deliberately; we’re just being ignorant at best and hateful at worst, which means fans of colour don’t know to avoid or brace for the content of those works until they get hit in the face with microaggresions and/or outright racism. Instead, the burden is placed on them to navigate a minefield not of their creation: which fans can be trusted to write respectfully? Who, if they make an error, will listen and apologise if the error is explained? Who, if lived experience, personal translations or cultural insights are shared, can be counted on to acknowledge those contributions rather than taking sole credit? Too often, fans of colour are being made to feel like guests in their own house, while white fans act like a tone-policing HOA.
Point being: fandom and ficwriting cultures as they currently exist badly need to confront the implicit acceptance of racism and cultural bias that underlies a lot of community rules about engagement and criticism, and that needs to start with white and western fans. We don’t want to be the new Bronies, guys. We need to do better.  
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scarlettriot · 3 years
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She Lit A Fire: Pt 3 - A New Start
Pairing: Dad!Kirishima x F!Reader
Warnings: Injuries, Hospital setting, Swearing
Contains: Kirishima as a father. Reader has an established quirk. Main characters are in their late 20s. Fluff. Some angst. Broken family situation. Absent mother-figure.
Summary: Bakugo comes clean to Kirishima about how he knows Y/N while he heals up in the hospital and after, Kirishima goes to visit Y/N himself.
Part One | Part Two
Tag List: @lovingbadguys @strangecoffeewitch @asahisimpnation @qardasngan @mistyfoxsong @otomesunshine @georgettesand @mymanbakugou @lil-pine-mha-drabbles @sleepynaya - Thank you guys so much for following along <33
A/N: Reader is American. THE FIRST BIT OF THIS PART IS TOLD IN FLASHBACK! I'll also admit, I have not really edited this... sorry about that.
Word Count: 3,972
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Smoke billowed up from Bakugo's hands. You watched the muscles of his shoulders flex, preparing for another barrage against the scorched wall. It was useless to keep at it, you'd told him so many times now that you'd lost count, and yet Bakugo kept trying.
He flinched, gripping his forearm where his skin had been blistering from overuse. You pulled yourself back off the ground and patted his shoulder. "Take a break, Dynamight." Your fingers flexed and Bakugo's eyes fluttered feeling you pull away the beads of sweat that coated his skin, "I'll let you know when I've got it ready."
You two had been the only ones in the agency late at night. The task force you'd both been brought in on had hit a roadblock and it was driving the both of you out of your damn minds. You'd returned to the headquarters, surprised to find you weren't alone, even more surprised it was the explosive blonde that was pouring over the information you gathered since he seemed the least interested of the three heroes Japan had sent to America to assist in the task force.
He'd had an idea, he told you and you had to pester him relentlessly for about 15 minutes to get him to explain exactly what that idea had been. Begrudgingly, he spun the laptop he'd been working on around to face you.
"Noticed somethin' on the footage we uncovered from two of the suspected locations but thought it was a coincidence," He pressed play and two clips from surveillance cameras played side by side. They weren't terribly pixilated but still dark, "Watch."
The feeds were full of people but Bakugo pointed out someone specific slipping inside the building you'd been watching. Average height and build, sports jacket, and a ball cap with some logo on the front that you couldn't make out. The video went on and you saw nothing more on either feed. You let it play for almost ten minutes before Bakugo spoke again, "There."
On the right feed, a man of average height and build wearing a sports jacket and ball cap came walking out of another building across town, blending right into the crowd, "Same guy."
"These buildings are miles apart... That doesn't really prove anything though, maybe it's the guy's quirk?"
He shook his head, one hand typing, pulling up something and his other hand threw a folder at you. "'S not his quirk." You flipped through the pages he'd gathered, staring at a photo of a pretty ordinary-looking man while Bakugo pulled up another photo for you to reference. "Followed this guy for over an hour until I caught his reflection here. He's one of the physicists that we think has gone off the fuckin' rails. I checked, his quirk deals with nervous systems, nothing that could make him travel that fast."
"But, that doesn't mean someone else could have sent him..."
With a heavy sigh he began vigorously slamming away at the keys again, this time bringing up a long list of names, "This is everyone who has access to be in those two buildings that late at night. None of them have a quirk registered to do that! We wanna know where they're workin', what the fuck they're doin', it's got something to do with these two buildings! I ran test after test, there's no route that he could walk, run, or fuckin' flying even in that time, not without it being in a more direct line."
And that meant there was only one way he could have traveled that quickly. "So, do you have the blueprints?"
A feline grin spread across Katsuki's face. "Hell yeah, I do." He flicked them up, "Problem is, I think they've been doctored. Was thinkin' of going and seeing if I'm right."
"Going into the buildings? Tonight?"
"Not the buildings, ya damn elf," He pointed to a map of the city block, "Here, that's a sewer access, and if there is an underground passage, it'll be there."
"We're going to go crawling around the sewer?"
"I didn't say anything about a we."
"Bakugo, we're dealing with a group of people playing around with chemical weapons and you think I'm just going to let you go investigate on your own? Hell no, we should be calling-"
"I'm not calling anyone!"
"Why not? This is a great lead, we should let the others know."
He snatched your phone right out of your hands. "I said no. I need to verify I'm right before telling anyone else."
You folded your arms. "Don't like being wrong, huh?"
"Tch," He tossed your phone back at you, "Don't act like you know me."
Seriously though, you could not figure out the chip on this man's shoulder in the three weeks you'd worked together. Sure, he was one of Japan's hottest up-and-coming Pros but he had such venom to him.
"Fine. But, if you leave me here, I will just call someone and tell them what you're up to." Ruby eyes narrowed but you didn't flinch. "Guess you should probably take me with you to make sure I don't do that."
And that was how you ended up walking down a long-forgotten passageway at two in the morning with Katsuki Bakugo. That is, until you'd come to the thick door in your way.
"Bakugo, we should-"
Too late, he was already open firing on it.
"Really?" You asked when the noise died down and the smoke cleared.
His manic grin faded. "Do you have any idea what's on the other side? It's just us!"
"Whoever it is, I can take 'em."
He grunted and shoved his weight against the door, explosions trying to blast the handle until his sweat-slicked palm slipped and the handle wobbled.
"It's unlocked?"
He looked at you with the same question on his face, why the hell would something like this be open?
Water had been your element of the day, and when Bakugo used the toe of his boot to nudge the door open, hands at the ready, you pulled some of the sewer water to use as a weapon of your own. He looked back at you to your surprise, he was giving you a chance to back out but you were sure if he'd follow.
So, you nodded. Cautiously, he stepped into the dimly lit room with you on his heels. The door slowly shut behind you while your eyes took in the room, the very plain room.
"What the hell is this?" Bakugo grumbled, his hands lowering slightly.
"I've no idea."
It was entirely bare. New walls painted white, pinprick holes high in the walls filtered in barely any light at all.
"We need to call this in. This doesn't feel right."
To your surprise, Bakugo actually agreed.
"I don't have service." He mumbled and when you realized your phone didn't either he suggested leaving and going back to the surface to make the call.
But when you walked back to the wall, retracing your steps exactly, your hand only met a smooth surface. Your fingers felt around the wall, the area you knew the door had been only to find nothing at all.
"What are you waiting for, elf, open it already."
"It's not here."
"The fuck do you mean?"
"Bakugo, there's no handle. The door's gone."
The light from his phone illuminated the wall and he cursed with disbelief. His fingers trailed the wall looking for a seam, anything at all, but found nothing.
You ran the length of the room to the opposite end hoping for another door but no such luck, instead, your hand depressed against a portion of the wall and a pad lit up,
CARD ACCESS REQUIRED
ROOM CONCEALMENT IN: 1 MINUTE 24 SECONDS
"BAKUGO!"
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Katsuki shifted in the uncomfortable pale pink chair across from Eijiro's bed as he told his best friend the story he'd kept hidden.
"The little fuckin' holes sealed off, it was totally dark besides our damn phones. We tried everything we could think up to get out of there. Ya see Y/N's quirk isn't air manipulation like you thought it was, it's elemental control via consumption. Whatever element she consumes is the one she can control for a 24 hour period. That day she'd used water."
Eijiro was listening to every word, just trying to keep up with the truth Katsuki was finally letting him in on.
"We went so far as her pulling the sweat from my body to try and bomb ourselves out... it didn't end well. Once everything was over, fuck, Kirishima, we nearly passed out from lack of oxygen. Izuku came into the agency early and found my work and, like the nosy shit he is, figured out where we'd gone."
He exhaled slowly because the next part had been so hard to come to terms with. "I was captured by the fucking League, been in so many fights that could have ended my damn life but I always came out on top but we nearly died down in that fucking room. Just two years out of school, I'd barely done anything! And I was gonna die because I couldn't breathe anymore!"
"Katsuki..."
"Save it. We're fine now, we got out."
"Kyoka though, she left during that trip and when she came back you and her we're-"
"Yeah. Yeah, I called her the second we got out. Y/N had passed out beside me after we talked for a bit because apparently being that close to death makes me have feelings, ya know, heart-to-heart shit! I felt sleepy. But, Kyo, she was the last person we talked about. I promised Y/N I'd stop messin' around if we got out and you know damn well I keep promises." His voice dropped to a whisper, "But, I didn't think I was gonna get out of there. Put on the first damn playlist Kyo and I made back in first year, closed my eyes, and it felt like she was right there with me going to sleep."
"So, she knew?"
He nodded, "She's the only one. And it's only because I told her before the task force got a hold of us. It's why I couldn't tell you or anyone else." Katsuki stood like it would better help him explain himself. "The room we found was this holding area, and on the other side was what they thought was a lab but the whole damn thing was cleaned out. We don't know if it was before we got there or if it was Y/N and I who caused them to flee. They threatened to take our license for acting without proper authority and because they didn't catch anyone, we were sworn to never speak of what we'd uncovered. They hoped if we just left everything alone, someone might come back."
"And did they?" He'd already been invested in the story but Eijiro was practically on the edge of his seat now, or bed rather.
But Katsuki just shrugged. "Dunno. We were removed from the task force briefings, sent to do stupid brainless tasks instead. Even Izuku got kicked 'cause of me."
"It wasn't just the two of you who went though... Amajiki, he'd been the senior hero for that trip."
"Yup. By request of Y/N herself."
Red brows knitted together, "They know each other?"
"They're related, Shitty Hair. They're cousins. You said she seemed familiar like you could trust her. It's because you trust squid hands! She's like, a more confident version of him or something!"
Eijiro just blinked as it clicked into place why you felt so damn trustworthy.
"I just, I never said anything about her 'cause if I did then you'd find about what happened and I didn't wanna risk it at the time, but here we fuckin' are."
"You know I'm not gonna rat you out or say anything, come on man!"
He ran a hand through his blonde hair, "It was my license on the line, Shitty Hair!" There was no worse look than one of disappointment from Eijiro Kirishima. "Stop it! You and those damn eyes. My fucking license, Eijiro!"
It took him a minute but Eijiro finally sighed. "Any more secrets you'd like to secrets you've been hiding?"
"Oh, fuck off, man."
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Later that day, Katsuki had stopped in to say he was heading out for the night, to make sure you knew you could call if there was anything you needed.
It was odd seeing him again after so many years. Barely keeping in touch, only seeing snippets of him in news articles or press releases. But, he married the girl he'd introduced you to with the purple hair and shy smile and, damn if you weren't proud of the guy for keeping true to his word.
You'd been dying when he made the promise, you wouldn't have blamed him if he chickened out or just forgot about it entirely but, he looked almost happy? Even Tamaki thought so.
Izuku promised they were vague enough that your cousin didn't know you were in the country, they just made it seem like they were checking in, but it piqued his interest anyways; he'd been blowing up your phone all day. Once you got a charger for your phone (somehow not smashed to pieces, just a badly cracked screen) you had several missed calls, five voicemails, and at least fifty texts.
Tam Tam: Bakugo and Midoriya called and asked about you today and it made me realize we haven't talked in a couple months.
Tam Tam: Actually, those two haven't asked about you in while. Did you guys reconnect?
Tam Tam: This doesn't have something to do with that task force, does it?
Tam Tam: I called your agency since you're not answering just to check and they said you don't work with them anymore. That's wrong, right? You would've told me if you changed agencies.
Tam Tam: Why aren't you answering?
Tam Tam: Why aren't you calling me back?
Tam Tam: It's been like 8 hours. Where are you?
Tam Tam: You have until the morning to answer me and then I'm getting on a plane.
Tam Tam: This isn't funny. I'm worried!
You groaned and not just from the pain of your injuries.
All you wanted was time to get your life sorted. To make it seem like you had everything in order and you didn't just decide to up and move with all your belongings shoved into a single bag. You'd planned this move, you just wanted to make it seem like you'd been planning it for several months, not two days.
Of course, Katsuki and Izuku were now hell-bent on helping you get situated. Izuku offered up his apartment in the city for you to stay in and Katsuki explained there was an executive assistant position open at their agency.
They were skeptical when you explained you were taking a time out from heroing. Izuku asking question after question while Katsuki silently judged you with folded arms, trying to read you rather than listen to your words. They settled for you saying something happened and you needed a break. They didn't need to know that break was for the foreseeable future.
But both of them insisted you'd be the perfect executive assistant role. You knew all the ins and outs of what their duties demanded, every facet of the job, and it paid well.
"Just let us know when you're cleared from the hospital and we'll set up your first day."
"Don't I need to interview or something?"
"Fuck no." Katsuki scoffed at the very idea. "I'd rather have you in charge of all that bullshit rather than some ditz who doesn't understand how timezones work."
Izuku just nodded emphatically with agreement and it was decided.
Still, you didn't feel settled, not home and cozy like you hoped you'd be when you showed up at your cousin's door with the surprise of your relocation.
A soft couple of knocks on your door removed you from your unease and you muttered for them to come in, assuming it was a nurse or doctor but instead another patient stood in the doorway. One with bright red hair and a soft grin.
"I'm so sorry!" Were the first words out of your mouth.
His laugh was much softer than that day at the park but just as genuine. "Why the hell are you sorry? You're the one who fell off a train."
"Yeah, but I dropped the stuff that went into your back and you had to have surgery!"
"It comes with the job. I knew what I was signing up for and, believe me when I say, this isn't the worst shape I've been in."
You noticed he was still lingering in the entryway. "Would you like to come in?"
He stepped through and closed the door softly behind him, shutting out the various beeps and chatter, the usual hospital din, and sat on the wheeled chair that the doctor usually used. A quick glance and you realized with his size there was a decent chance he wouldn't be able to fit comfortably in the flimsy pink chairs.
"So, you're doing okay then?"
"Better than okay. I'll be out of here tomorrow they said. But, what about you?"
You told him the doctor's report and followed it up with your own personal assessment of how you were handling the pain. "It's honestly better than I thought I'd be doing. Guess I'm just lucky I got here as quick as I did. Thanks for that, by the way."
He looked adorable with a little color rising in his cheeks.
"I'd like to say anytime but I really hope I don't have to pull you from another accident, ever."
Conversation flowed easily between you two, shifting from one topic to the next until he finally said how he was sorry for not knowing who you were in the park, that he would have offered you a job on the spot if he'd known your relationship to Tamaki.
"He- he doesn't know I'm here yet!" You abruptly cut him off but he only grinned.
"Yeah I know, Bakugo told me as much." He held up two large hands to show he meant no harm, "And I won't be the one to tell him. I'm just saying, Amajiki is a real good friend and I wouldn't feel right not offering his family help if I could. Seems Bakugo and Midoriya took care of the offering part though..."
"That's right. New executive assistant for the Alliance Hero Agency, at your service." The title felt a little odd rolling off your tongue but not bad.
"I hope you know you're gonna have your work cut out for you with Bakugo."
"And you, Red Riot? Are you gonna give me trouble?"
"Me?" He feigned offense, "I'll be the least of your problems. You'll barely even notice me around."
Right, because over six and a half feet tall was easy to not notice. "It won't be too bad though. We might seem like a pretty busy agency and, we are but we're also a real close group too. You won't be in this alone."
You were pretty sure you shouldn't have found his smile as comforting as you did, it was probably just the pain meds.
"Thanks, Red Riot, I appreciate that."
"It's Kirishima, please."
Before you had a chance to respond a nurse had knocked on your door, "Pardon the interruption but Mr. Kirishima, you have visitors."
All you could see from over the shoulder of the nurse was a head of curly pink hair but from around her legs bolted a very familiar little girl.
"Daddy!"
Kirishima was already standing when Remiru launched herself at him. "Baby girl! You've gotta take it easy on your dad! Remember me telling you about all his ouchies."
"'S fine, Mina." Though his gritted teeth told another story.
The woman with light pink skin and hair the color of bubble gum hurried right in, spouting apologizes. "I can take her back to your room-"
"Windy hero?" Remiru muttered, red eyes peeking over her dad's shoulder at you.
"Heya, kiddo." They lit up and she began wiggling, trying to physically climb over Kirishima to get to you.
"Easy, Pebble, wait a sec. Remember how daddy had to have surgery to fix his boo-boos?" She nodded, "Well, Ms. Y/N did too but she had to have a lot more, so you're gonna have to ask before climbing. You can't go jumpin' on her like ya can with me."
He put her on the ground and she slowly approached. "Ms. Y/N? Can I come up?"
You held out your hand for her to use but Kirishima was quick to give her a boost. The little girl settled against your knee after her dad had scooted her away from your hip.
"Are you okay?"
"I will be. You don't have to worry."
"You saved me and my daddy saved you."
"Yeah, kiddo, he sure did."
"Ah, but, don't forget, Ms. Y/N saved other people at the crash too, I can't take all the credit."
You rolled your eyes at how humble he was.
"'M glad daddy saved you in case I need saved again."
"Are you planning on chasing ducks anytime soon?"
A single tiny pointed tooth poked out when she tried to hide her grin. "No..."
"Pebble," He buried his nose in his daughter's neck making her giggle, "We talked about you fibbin'."
"If I see duckies, I chase duckies! I can't help it!" She shrieked. "But, you saved Ms. Y/N so if I do chase duckies she can be there for me."
There was nothing quite as pure as the logic of a toddler. "Maybe, you could learn to swim, then you could save yourself if something happens when you're chasing duckies."
Her face set into a frown that made you nearly laugh. Hiding it away behind little hands. "I can't. I tried. I can't do it."
"You just haven't done it yet." You remembered what Kirishima had said over a week ago, "What if one day you could swim with turtles?" Her fingers spread to watch you, "Orcas?" They slowly lowered, "What about seals?"
"I like seals. But, my favorite is sharks 'cause they got teeth like me and daddy do."
"Ah, yes, well, if you learn to swim then one day you could swim with sharks too!"
She seemed to consider this, fidgetting in her spot, "Would you help me?"
You glanced at Kirishima who looked amazed his daughter was even considering what you were saying. "When I'm better, sure, kiddo. As long as it's okay with your dad, and your mother, of course." You didn't want to leave his wife out since she was standing right there. Remiru made it seem like she wasn't around but...
"Mother?" Mina croaked a laugh with Kirishima.
"Mom doesn't care." Remiru sassed.
"Hey, she's right there, I'm sure she cares!"
Remiru looked around the room, very confused. "Mommy's not here. Just Daddy and Auntie Mina."
"Oh, oh gods, I'm sorry!"
"It's fine." Both Kirishima and Mina told you through a fit of giggles and Kirishima quickly explained the friendship he and Mina shared.
"Mr. Kirishima," The nurse had returned, "We need to take you for that follow-up set of X-Rays now."
Mina had picked up a reluctant Remiru. "Wait! Can I see you tomorrow!"
"Aw, sweetie, your dad's going home tomorrow, you won't have to come back here."
"But!"
Kirishima took his frantic daughter. "Hey. Calm it down a notch. I don't mind bringing you back to see Ms. Y/N if that's alright with her."
"Can I?" She pleaded with those enormous eyes.
"That's fine with me."
"Great. We'll see you tomorrow then."
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433 notes · View notes
spyoikawa · 3 years
Note
still on that saiki k brainrot so hear me out-
metori, saiki, teruhashi, aren and hairo with an s/o who really loves to bake/cook-
no thoughts just Reader learning how to make coffee jelly for saiki (like maybe they make him a tower of coffee jelly for an anniversary or his birthday-). no thoughts just Reader cooking something for metori who pretends to not want to eat it cause it’s ‘peasant food’ but ends up really enjoying their cooking. no thoughts just cooking/baking date with teruhashi. no thoughts just teaching aren how to cook/bake and having a food trade with him, bringing him lunch/a snack to school. and no thoughts just hairo hyping Reader up while they cook/bake and making stuff for him to bring to class rep meetings-
thank you! <3
the excitement I got got I saw teruhasi- i don't see a lot of writing for her and I get happy when I get to do less than common things! Thanks!
I'm running low on creative juices, so please I hope you don't mind if I use the exact scenarios you suggested 💀
Note: some of the things I wrote felt really rude so please don't mind the tone tags in parentheses, also i have not edited this yet
Saiki, Teruhasi, Hairo, Aren, and Saiko with an S/O who can cook/bake
♡romantic♡
Saiki Kusuo (italics = saiki telepathy)
Although it was undeniably tasty, your boyfriend's obsession with coffee jelly was not only getting out of hand but also quite expensive-
I mean he spent 3,000 yen for one serving-
But yanno what it's ok, coffee jelly is easy to make, and this gives you an excuse to hang out (not that you need one)
"Ok Ku, i had an idea"
I like it, just make sure you teach me how to do it too
"Rude. I wasn't finished"
You did in your head
As endearing as it could be sometimes, Saiki's mind-reading could be a pain occasionally
You wound me.
"Good. (/j)"
After a long debate over recipes and serving sizes, there it was, in all its glory, your first batches of coffee jelly
it was heaven
You did end up sharing the recipe with him, but it still became a little tradition to make the coffee jelly together
It just tastes better that way :)
Kokomi Teruhashi
In the midst of your TV and cuddles date, Kokomi huffed and turned off the TV
But of course it was rude to just turn off the TV, so she offered to play a board game instead
You did play with her, but your curiosity was begging as to why she wanted to change the activity
"Hey Kokomi, this game is fun, don't worry... but why'd you turn off the TV so suddenly?"
"Oh, it was nothing! I just thought you would like this game, and I wanted you to enjoy yourself more!"
Now, that's the answer the most perfect girl in the world would give
But Kokomi is still human, there's gotta be something wrong
You spent a while thinking to yourself about what you were watching, you two agreed on a documentary, then after the documentary, the channel played a cooking show with a guest baker/cook Makoto Teruhashi- oh.
So that was it
At the end of the round, you stood up and offered your hand to pull up Kokomi with you.
"Hey, wanna make a bet?"
She looked up with a bit of curiosity.
"I bet you, I can make your favorite dish, far better than Makoto can"
She smiled a bit, "sure!"
Her favorite food was simple, so you taught her to cook it and added in some other things just for fun (and so she can't recreate it without your secret ingredients)
Now you guys have cooking dates often and always find ways to spice up foods (and beat Makoto at whatever he was doing on tv)
Hairo Kineshi
my thoughts and prayers go to you
we all saw what happened when he tried to make crepes
but in his mind, it was a learning opportunity
You guys were taking an after-school stroll, the weather was really nice, it would be a shame if you two just went home and did nothing. Walks like these tend to get sentimental and nostalgic, so your conversation subconsciously started to drift towards school life.
"And do you remember that time we had to get kuboyasu, kaido, and nendo to play on a baseball team? Oh my god thank god it didn't go too poorly, that one player really pulled through at the end..." you laughed out
"Haha I do remember that, I can't believe we got them to play, it really could've gone worse" He smiled as he remembered that day, but then his eyes drifted up to a bakery across the road. "Speaking of poor experiences..."
after he explained to you he and kaido's crepe disaster, you couldn't help but tease fun at him for a bit
but you did agree to teach him more about cooking and baking
he's a bit too passionate about cracking eggs, but hey, at least you can work faster
after many, many burnt crepes and pans, there it was, a fallen appart, incorrectly folded, but still a properly cooked crepe sat there in all its beauty
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it kinda looked like this
Although he does learn many different things with you, crepes will be the thing he makes over and over again, even when he has it down to a science, just because it's the first thing you taught him, and he will keep that sweet memory forever (get it. sweet? Cause crepes? Im funny i swear.)
Aren Kuboyasu
He actually knows how to cook pretty well
He's not really sure when he picked up cooking, its kinda just stuck around, but he enjoys it, it makes him seem more goody
and he can treat you :)
I will die on my "aren lives for the most basic/domestic activities hill"
cooking with him is always an experience, he will play music in the background, and pull you aside to dance at random times
also does that really hot thing where he stands behind you, reaches around to hold your hands, and basically has you in a cage while showing you how to do something
it's one of those spontaneous things to do, if there's nothing else to do, might as well make something to eat
firm believer in "if you have to eat to live, you might as well eat delicious foods" so he will always try out new things with you if its healthy and tasty
"bab look at this show" you called out from where you were sitting, there was a cooking show/food documentary on, and it was showing a special food. "it says this chicken has a secret sauce they dip it in"
he walked over to the tv and watched it for a couple seconds, thinking a bit.
"...wanna figure it out?"
"yes. I'll make the chicken if you figure out the sauce?"
"deal."
will you ever know if you got the secret sause? Nope, but you did figure out a chicken recipe that is good as hell
he probably writes down all the recipes you "invented" together for safekeeping and so he can return to it later, but he refuses to show it to anyone
Saiko Metori
as much as I love him, we all saw in that one episode how picky he is while eating, and is probably a bitch to please while cooking/baking
so after a lot of convincing, you got him to sit in the kitchen with you so he can watch you bake for the two of you
in reality, all you have to do is give the dish a fancy rich-sounding name, you just have to be really careful with what you say
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like this 💀
you decided to bake for him today, baking is a lot more "by the book" than cooking, so you thought he would take a bit of comfort in knowing it was done in a professional way
"alright tori, so I think I'll make a heavy pastry made with fine cacao and extracts, baked into a rich dessert for a fine sweet palette"
"you're making brownies aren't you"
"🧍‍♂️"
Told you, you have to be as specific as possible
He does eventually get interested in what you're doing though, as he never really sees his personal chef cook, and wants to help you by the end
He really did enjoy it! It quickly became one of his favorite treats
But funny enough, no matter how many bakeries he tried or how many times his chef tried, they never tasted the same
(you put in special spices as your own little mark on the treat)
so he ends up having you over for more cooking dates
Which he really does enjoy btw
as a tsundere he will look all annoyed and probably call you a plebe, but these are his favorite types of dates
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sunaluvs · 2 years
Text
IN THE NIGHT, WE ARE BARE | kazutora hanemiya x reader
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+ SYNOPSIS: the tender understanding between two people in a kitchen at four am.
+ TAGS: gn reader, roommate!kazutora, melancholy, its not necessarily angsty or fluffy, but it's a little sad and hmm introspective i suppose, pre-relationship, you regularly have nightmares, think that's it.
+ A/N: this was a little scenario i thought of yesterday and it was supposed to be like 300 at most but we went over 1k 😐 tired of myself fr. also there was attempted symbolism in the flowers mentioned here but idk how accurate google was 😞 anw comments n rbs r appreciated <33
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you wake with a start.
your chest heaves as you take in deep, gulping breaths, sweat lining your forehead and back. the last tendrils of sleep are already slipping away and your memory of whatever woke you is fuzzy now, at best.
from the dryness of your throat, you determine it was another nightmare.
swinging your legs off to the side of the bed, a quick glance to your clock tells you it's four am. your roommate should be long asleep by now, so you gingerly stand up, wincing at the stiffness of your muscles, and quietly make your way to the kitchen.
it's when you're halfway down the hall, that you notice the microwave light is on, illuminating a figure sitting at the counter.
alarm bells ring in your head for a moment, and you freeze, but then you take in the sloped back of the shadow, a result from years of bad posture, and the loose bun tied messily at the nape.
you exhale, rolling your shoulders. it's not a stranger.
with light footsteps, you walk over to see your roommate hunched over a steaming mug, eyes staring unseeingly into its contents. at the shift of your clothes, his gaze darts up to you, startled and alert. you pause, eyebrow raised, as he slowly recognizes your form. his shoulders remain tense, but his features aren't as wary.
kazutora doesn't break the silence, so you do.
"what's that?" you ask, nodding towards his mug. he glances down, fingers tightening their hold around the ceramic.
"tea." his voice is rough, though from disuse or overuse, you're not sure. "there's still some hot water left, if you want."
it's an invitation. not entirely enthusiastic, but one nonetheless. you set out to grab your own mug (white, with forget-me-nots painted on by your hands) and fetch a tea bag from the cabinet. it’s raining outside, the gentle patter acting as calming background noise as you pour the water. it's only when a sweet fragrance wafts up to your nose do you realize you pulled the herbal packet. lavender.
the scent soothes your nerves a little, and you carefully carry your mug over to where kazutora sits. placing it down, you lean against the cool laminate counter, and observe him.
his face is vacant of any specific emotion, skin unwashed and a little oily. his eyebags are dark, eyes bloodshot and dull. you've never seen him quite so.. adrift. lost, you think.
"so," you begin, quiet, "what's got you up all alone at four am?"
you have an idea, but you wait for his answer.
"couldn't sleep," he murmurs softly.
you snort, the late hour removing your filter. it's a little harsh for the moment, but you think it's needed.
"yeah, i can see that," you reply, "your eyebags are horrible."
he gives you a wry smile, eyes flicking up to meet yours.
"gee, thanks, it's a new look i'm trying out."
you hum, "not sure if it's working for you, though."
"really?"
you nod, "maybe if they were a bit deeper? would sell the whole sleep deprived thing a lot better."
he breathes a laugh through his nose, "i'll keep that in mind."
"planning to try it out again?"
and there it is.
he pauses, gazing carefully at you. his eyes have gotten back some of their clarity, and you can see there's hesitation there. contemplation. the shitty microwave light is faint, but it casts a fragile glow to his sandy eyes, and you have the brief thought that they’re oddly gorgeous like this.
a minute later, he speaks.
"maybe." his tone is level—or, it tries to be. you hear something else in there too. "depends on whether my brain decides to let me sleep."
you wrap your fingers around your mug's handle, "too loud?"
he sighs, tired and dense.
"too quiet."
and you sort of expected that. you know he has his own demons to manage—lots of them, if your experience with him is an indicator. your first meeting with him was a little messy, if you were honest. he tried to cover it up, but you could tell he was desperate to be chosen as your roommate, that he needed to quickly find a place to live. he didn't care that the place was far away from the city, that the water cut off sometimes for no reason or that he'd have to shoulder a little more than half the rent.
so, you'd agreed. you set down rules and expectations, and he's followed most of them quite well so far.
he told you what he was running from, eventually. a friend, he'd said. someone who carries a too big heart and reminds him of things he's not really ready to face.
perhaps it should've deterred you, made you feel a little unwilling to keep him around. but something about how he didn't look at you when he said it—couldn't, it hit you later—made you feel kind of.. understood. like the simple mention of it weighed him down. you get that.
the weight is still here, now, but it's not as heavy. you like to think he's managed to shrug some of it off in the months he's spent with you. a part of you almost wants to help him carry it, and you're not sure what to make of that.
suddenly, you realize you've been silent for a while, your tea sitting untouched as you pondered over the man in front of you.
you pick up your mug and take a sip, humming at the delicate taste. it's lovely, fitting for the hour and atmosphere.
“what about you?” he asks, curiosity evident in his tone.
a sigh leaves you, “nightmares.”
his eyebrows raise, but he doesn’t question you. he knows better than most what those are like.
what he doesn’t expect is for you to continue.
“it’s not the first time,” you scrape your bottom lip with your teeth, “happens every now and then. never seen you out here, though,” you add.
a blond strand of hair falls in his face, but he ignores it. your fingers twitch in their desire to tuck it back in place.
“i usually go out when i can’t sleep,” he explains, “but, well—” he gestures towards the window, “can’t exactly do that, right now.”
a nod is all you answer with, then the conversation falls. you finish your tea in peaceful silence, tinged with something like… a tender understanding, between you two.
when the last dregs of the tea are finished and your body is lax, enough that you think you might be able to fall back asleep, you place your mug in the sink, and take one last look at him.
his cup is half full, but he looks much more comfortable than he did earlier—in his body, and in the space around him.
“goodnight,” you murmur, and he lifts his face up to cast you a soft smile, delicate around the corners but well-meaning.
“sleep well.”
your feet turn and gently walk you away. you’re almost at your room when his voice behind you brings you to a halt.
“w-wait.” he calls out, voice shaking a little; nervous.
you twist around, eyebrows furrowed. “yes?”
he’s biting his lip, and your eyes momentarily drop down to the pretty pink, before his words brings your gaze back up.
“if you—” he hesitates, then continues, “if you can’t sleep again, next time, then.. you could always come with me on my rides."
you’re stunned, for a minute. that definitely wasn’t what you were expecting, but there’s a tenuous air about him. the offer seems important to him—personal.
"if you want,” he adds.
the corners of your lips quirk upwards when you lightly reply.
“sure.”
his sandy orbs brighten a little, and you’re a tad confused with the muted pride that springs up in you; the desire to be the cause of that again.
“great,” he breathes, shoulders losing the tension they’d built up, “awesome.”
you smile a little bigger, and repeat, “awesome.”
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pentechnics · 2 years
Text
Steps
Chapter 5 of Latch
Summary: You're taking strides in the healing process, no matter how slow the pace may be. You take even slower ones with Din, wondering if you're handling your feelings in the right way.
It's hard to remember that when he makes you smile the way he does, though.
Pairing: Firefighter!Din Djarin x fem!reader (no y/n)
Series content: modern AU, firefighter!Din, coffee shop AU, fluff, slowish burn, sexual tension, mentions of fire/burning buildings, mentions of burn injuries/scars, eventual sexual content (will tag for specific chapters), falling in love, Din is a sexy firefighter, and he’s BI, you’re a cute barista/baker, sweet and spicy, eventual mentions of abandoned children (will tag for specific chapters), some bits will be from Din’s POV but most is from reader’s
Notes: I was stuck on this one for SO LONG, but I was finally able to sit down and resolve what was blocking me a bit ago and she is FINALLY HERE. I can't thank you all enough for being so patient with me! This one isn't as long as I'd like it to be, but I'm trying to get myself to focus more on the quality of what happens rather than how much stuff happens in one chapter. They gotta flow they way they flow, and I can't force it into anything it's not! Things for this fic should be smoother now, so hopefully the wait won't be this long again! ❤️
I really hope you all enjoy this one; please let me know what you think! So much love to you all!
Taglist will be tagged in a reblog; let me know if you'd like to be added!
“So you mentioned having these flashbacks — how often would you say they happen?”
“It kind of depends,” you started, “sometimes they’ll just pop up on their own and sometimes they’ll happen after I hear a police car go by or something. Maybe a few times a week?”
You shifted in your chair and looked down at your hands. Talking to a therapist was a new experience for you, one that began with a sense of discomfort. You were only a quarter of the way through the appointment but your head was already weighed down by fatigue. But that’s because you were letting yourself be as honest as possible. This process was meant to help you, after all.
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Dr. Jinn jot down a note on the pad in his lap. You tried not to overthink it; he’s doing his job, you reminded yourself. He’s not here to judge you.
“And what do you do when they happen?”
“Usually I’m just frozen at first. It takes over, in a way. Almost feels like I’m actually back in that moment and I can’t move.”
Your mind flooded with fiery images from the mere mention of it. You took a deep breath.
“Take your time, it’s okay. Don’t push yourself.”
You nodded and shut your eyes, taking in the calming words and focusing on your breathing. Dr. Jinn’s voice was clear and rich, in a way that felt like a reassuring hand on your back. You rested your hands on the chair, gripping the fabric to remind your brain of where you really were and fight off the impending episode.
“I’m not sure how long they last before I get brought out of it, or snap myself out,” you started, “Like one time it happened while I was out and it stopped when someone accidentally bumped into me. Another time I was at home, and I sort of just… shook myself out, if that makes sense.”
“Yes, that makes perfect sense,” Dr. Jinn shifted in his chair.
“Is this normal?” you asked.
“Completely,” he said with a confident nod. “These are called dissociative flashbacks, which can sometimes occur when we’ve gone through something traumatic. Each person’s experience with them is different, of course. But in any capacity they’re your mind’s way of saying that it’s still processing what happened.”
You nodded as you took in the information. It was nice to know you weren’t alone, though you couldn’t help feeling foolish when the flashbacks happened around other people. They had no idea about the complex cacophony of stimulation that was going on in your head, or the strange pain that would sometimes surge through your arms. All they saw was a dead-eyed statue gasping for air.
As if summoned from your very mind, the smoky sensation creeped back into your throat. You gulped down a breath.
“Is there a way to make them stop?” you asked, your voice hardly a whisper.
Dr. Jinn was silent for a moment, prompting you to look at him for the first time all session. Your eyes met his.
They were a bright blue, almost gray. Looking into them was reminiscent of standing in a quiet meadow under an overcast sky: a comforting, cool sensation that ironically made you feel warmer inside. His hair was long and graying, tied into a half-updo. The ends fell against his shoulders like a gentle rainfall.
“That’s also dependent on the person,” he said slowly. “Some people only have them for a little while, and some still experience them years down the road.”
His words made tears prick behind your eyes. How long will it be like this for me, you wondered. The notion of not knowing for sure sent a wave of fear through your system.
“But the best thing you can give yourself is time,” Dr. Jinn continued, “Regardless of what your experience with them will be like later, this is still very fresh for you right now. Your mind, body, and heart are going to need time to process it. So for now, let’s just focus on how we can help it along in the present.”
You took a deep breath. He was right. The more you thought about it, the less sense it made for you to try and be done with this aftermath in such a short time. You almost died, after all. That would take anyone a while to work through.
“Your experiences might be difficult now, but that doesn’t mean it’s permanent. Who knows where you’ll be in six months, right? What’s important at this time is taking care of each day as it comes.”
You smiled at Dr. Jinn. He returned it with a small nod. You straightened up in your chair and turned to fully face him.
While it was strange to be this open about these issues with a stranger, it also brought you a sense of catharsis. You realized there were no social expectations, no obligated sympathies or empty words of encouragement. This person was a trained professional whose job entailed helping you through your problems rather than telling you how brave you were, or how sorry he felt for you. It was refreshing. And his kind, inviting visage made it easier to talk with him as the session went on.
The two of you shifted into a lighter conversation after that, Dr. Jinn asking you about work and how other aspects of your life were going. It was freeing to confide those pieces in him as well; he was a neutral party, and you didn’t feel the need to please him or conceal parts of yourself by cloaking your words in certain tones or falsehoods.
Din was the only other person who heard an unfiltered version of you. Uncle Dave on occasion, but even then you felt restrictions. The freedom that came with Din’s company was an unexpected surprise, but one you were approaching with caution.
“He seems very nice,” Dr. Jinn said after you described your interactions with him. “What’s holding you back from pursuing him?”
“I just don’t want anyone thinking I’m acting any certain way around him because I feel like I owe him something,” you said with a sigh. “I am genuinely attracted to him. Absolutely. But I’m worried about falling into some kind of victim/savior complex.”
He gave you a kind smile.
“You know, I think the fact that you’re examining it this way is a good sign that you won’t fall into that. Awareness is a powerful thing, after all.”
Your brow rose as you took in his words. You hadn’t considered that.
“As long as you’re looking out for those signs — which it sounds like you already are — then I don’t think there’s any doubt you could have a healthy relationship of any nature with him.”
Relief swelled through your system. Dr. Jinn’s bold, upfront way of speaking was the exact kind of push you’d been needing.
“As for the opinions of others,” he said with raised brows, “they have no stake in this. It’s your life, you should live it the way you want to.”
You smiled. Right again.
While the idea of it all still made your skin crawl with nervous anticipation, it seemed closer to your reach than it had before you walked in.
Dr. Jinn’s presence provided safety and freedom in a way you didn’t realize had been necessary until then. You were already sifting through your schedule in your head so you could plan your next appointment with him.
~~~~
You looked out at the rain pelting down on the asphalt outside of Cal’s. Your favorite kind of day: gray, cloudy, with a healthy dose of wet weather. The perfect day to be in a coffee shop.
And apparently that wasn’t just your opinion; the place was packed, almost every seat being taken up by folks who came to do work or have a chat with a friend, or to just dry off for a while before heading back into the fray. The muted chatter provided a nice backdrop to the atmosphere.
But there was one person that wasn’t so muted.
You turned back to where Harley sat, laughing at their phone screen. They’d been around for the last hour while you served customers, engaging in small conversation between orders.
“So when’s your dreamy fireman gonna show up?” they asked.
Their choice of words had you shaking your head with a chuckle.
“I never know for sure. He just comes in when he can.”
“I guess that makes sense, given the job.”
You nodded. You decided not to bring up his baby to Harley just yet; it didn’t feel right telling them all about his life when you still didn’t know him that well.
“Wait-” you said, a sudden thought coming to mind. “Is that the only reason you came by today?”
Harley’s silence, coupled with their mischievous side glance said it all. You gave a playful scoff.
“Forget hanging out with me, you just wanted a glance at this guy!”
They laughed.
“Can you blame me, though? I want to know who’s been getting you all flustered! You can hardly talk about him without tripping over your words, you know.”
The statement had your face feeling warm.
They weren’t wrong, though. Just thinking about Din filled your gut with butterflies every time, and you’d feel the urge to see him again.
He was quiet, yet expressive, and mysterious. Each thing you learned about him was like a puzzle piece to a much larger picture you’d yet to see. And you wanted to find them all.
“For real though, you should just ask him out.”
“Don’t rush me,” you said with a raised brow. “I’m just making sure I keep it healthy. If it takes longer because of that, so be it.”
“Can’t argue with that,” they shrugged.
As you refilled Harley’s coffee, you wondered for yourself when Din would next wander in. Would he come while Harley was here? Several versions of him meeting them played through your mind. Part of you wanted to see the inevitably hysterical situation, but the other wanted to protect Din from a potential onslaught.
“Okay, don’t get me wrong,” Harley started, “hanging out with you at the Mark is a hoot, but I am loving this free coffee perk.”
“It’s only free because you drink it straight,” you laughed, “I still don’t understand how you can handle that.”
“Hey,” they put a hand to their chest in mock offense. “I’ll have you know that nothing about me is straight!”
You laughed even harder.
~~~~
After putting your dinner away, you sunk into your blankets, put on your favorite flannel, and listened to the rain pelt your window while your book swept you away to a new world. You left time behind, along with your worries and woes from the last week, instead letting the words before your eyes command the thoughts and images in your head.
Tonight’s read was a much-needed romance: Mr. Masters by T.L. Swan. Easy on your weary mind while having enough intrigue to keep you interested, and soft enough to fill your heart with warmth. It was a classic tale of two people involved with each other that were afraid of falling in love. The tiny moments of realization that they’d done exactly that had you biting back giggles.
Your brain crash-landed back to Earth when your phone began to vibrate next to you. You jumped to put your book down and reached for it. Who would be calling me on a Tuesday night, you asked yourself.
Din’s name lit up the screen. Your heart leaped into your throat.
Din? Calling you? Excitement bubbled under your skin while your mind kept screaming the same question over and over again: why?
He hadn’t come into Cal’s for almost two weeks now. You assumed he was busy, and decided against texting him for that reason. That, and the iron grip of anxiety that always took hold whenever you contemplated the idea.
Part of you wondered if something was wrong. But that didn’t solve anything — he wouldn’t call you in an emergency. With a shaky finger you accepted the call and pressed the phone to your ear with a soft, “Hello?”
“Hey,” came Din’s deep, raspy voice. The vibrations sent a shiver down your spine. “I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”
“No,” you squeaked, gripping a fistful of your blanket. “Not at all, I was just reading.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to interrupt.”
“Don’t be,” you said with a smile, even though he couldn’t see it. “It’s… It’s nice to hear from you.”
He didn’t answer right away, but you could see that little grin in your mind’s eye.
“What are you up to?” you asked after another moment.
“Not too much, just put Grogu to bed.”
“Grogu?” you asked, confusion fogging your mind.
“My baby.”
“Oh,” you said with a small laugh, “Sorry, silly me never asked for his name!”
“Well, silly me never gave it to you, either,” he said with a chuckle.
You smiled and tugged the blanket closer to your frame, despite the sweat now drenching your torso. The picture Din had shown you re-entered your mind’s eye.
Grogu, you thought. What a perfect name for that perfect little guy.
“We, uh, actually had a pediatrician appointment the other day.”
“Is everything okay with him?” you asked.
“Yes, he’s fine. Just a regular checkup.”
“Well that’s good,” you said with a small sigh.
“He did need to get a couple shots, which wasn’t fun for him.”
“Aw, I bet.”
“He was a trooper, though. The doctor said he was one of the easiest patients she’s had at that age.”
“Good for him,” you said with a giggle. “He must get that courage from his dad.”
His turn to be silent. The image of him bashfully looking away from you had you biting down a grin.
“I don’t know about that,” came his quiet reply.
You smiled. He had to be the most humble person on Earth.
“He was probably a lot braver than I’d be,” you said, “I hate needles.”
“Yeah?”
“I can never look when I’m getting a shot or anything. Can’t stomach it.”
He laughed.
“That’s cute.”
Your heart continued to pound, your face heating up at his words. A beat of silence passed before you regained control of your lungs.
“So,” you started, “was there any specific thing you wanted to talk about?”
“Not really, I just haven’t gotten to come in and chat with you in a while.”
“I noticed,” you whispered. You’d been feeling a void from not seeing him for this long; the notion of him thinking of you and feeling a similar way had your head spinning.
“Yeah, it’s just been a busy time.”
“That’s what I figured,” you said, “I hope you’re getting to rest up.”
“A bit,” he said with a chuckle. “How about you?”
“Yeah, also a bit.”
“That’s good.”
After a moment of silence the two of you carried on, catching up on little things that had happened in your lives since you last saw each other. He told you about taking Grogu shopping with him, and how he kept trying to grab boxes off the shelves from his perch in the cart. You laughed at the mental image of Din reaching for his tiny hands to get them away from whatever he was reaching for.
You told him about Harley’s visit to Cal’s, and their hopes of meeting him. He seemed surprised, his tone growing quieter. His bashful mumbles made you giggle. You decided that you liked flustering him.
“Maybe next time,” you said, “Though part of me is wondering if I should spare you.”
“They can’t be that bad,” he said with a chuckle.
“They’re wonderful,” you said, “they can just be a bit much sometimes.”
“Well, I’d like to meet them. A friend like that is nice to have either way.”
You smiled. “Are any of your friends like that?”
“Oh god, all of them,” he groaned. You laughed.
He told you more about his friends at the station, and how they had a tendency to poke into his business.
“I suppose butting in like that can be considered a love language,” you said with a laugh.
“They do mean well,” he sighed. “I owe them a lot for that nosiness, actually.”
Your brow rose in wonder. A question lingered on the tip of your tongue, but the sudden drop in his tone held you back from asking it.
“But anyway,” he said, taking away the chance, “what book were you reading?”
“Oh-” you glanced at the book, laying on the cushion beside you, complete with a chiseled model who had unnatural, painful-looking abs on the cover. You gulped as heat rose up your neck. How do you tell someone you’re attracted to that you’re reading an… indulgent romance?
“It’s… a love story,” you said with a small laugh, cursing the way your voice cracked. “Just your usual tension and fluff.”
Yeah... the main characters definitely didn't spend half the book banging it out.
“Is it any good?”
“Yeah, it’s great, actually,” you said, your confidence slowly returning. “This author has a way of making me really root for the characters.”
“Yeah? How many other books have they written?”
“A lot, apparently.”
You went in deeper about the small amount of knowledge you had about this author, and Din listened to every word, sometimes accentuating you with a hum or small remark. Even though he wasn’t in the room with you, he was able to open you up and put you at ease with little effort. And he seemed genuinely interested in your rambles. It had you feeling all kinds of warmth in the pit of your gut.
The rain continued to tap against your window, providing a soothing backdrop to your conversation. And just like your time at Cal’s with Din, time slipped away from your grasp. He made you laugh, you did the same. He had you fumbling over your words at times, whether it was intentional or not, and you wished you could retaliate.
All at once, your apartment transformed from a dark, empty melody to a warm symphony of light.
The only things missing were those stunning brown eyes.
~~~~
“Sounds like you two are getting along, what are you worried about?”
You were wiping down the counter at the end of your shift. Rita waited for you on one of the stools, having arrived to bring you out for lunch. You briefly mentioned talking with Din on the phone the night before, along with your apprehension about contacting him casually again.
“I don’t know,” you said with a sigh, “I just don’t want to be too much, you know? We talked for so long last night, I’m just not sure if texting him now would be going overboard.”
“I suppose I can understand where that comes from,” she started, “but he seems into you, too. He was the one to call you after all.”
She had a point. You collected your things and the two of you walked out of the café.
“I think you should just text him. Don’t worry too much about it.”
“Maybe. What would I even say, though?”
“Well,” she shrugged, “what do you guys normally talk about when he visits you?”
You looked down at the concrete in thought. As each little crack in the pavement passed under your boots, your mind flipped through its library of your interactions with Din. The topics always ran with the wind, scouring a wide range. It was hard to pinpoint anything consistent.
“I guess he likes pastries,” you said, “Kuiil is about to release some new ones, actually.”
“There you go, I think you can work with that!” Rita nudged you with her elbow.
You sighed. Hearing yourself say it out loud sounded so boring. Din lived in a world of constant action and liveliness. He spent his free time delving into complex topics and information — why would he be interested in your baking?
“Just do it,” Rita’s curt voice cut through your thoughts, as if you’d said them aloud.
Anxiety bubbled in your gut as you grunted and whipped out your phone.
Might as well, you thought to yourself. The worst he could do is not respond. Plus, it’d hopefully get Rita off your back. You touched his name on your screen and typed out a simple message, glancing over it before sending it and shoving your phone back in your pocket. You took a deep breath and turned to Rita, putting a purposeful dramatic emphasis on your head roll.
“Happy?”
“Very,” she said with a grin. “What did you say?”
“Nothing fancy, just something about work.”
Your jacket was suddenly far too warm for comfort, your phone feeling heavier where it sat as it pulled down on one side. You searched your brain for a way to change the subject before Rita could continue talking about this – anything to distract from the crippling, overbearing sensation of waiting for a reply that may never come. The strangling vines of anticipation were already plugging up your gut.
The two of you eventually made it to your destination and settled down for your meal. You dove deep into conversation, topics ranging from speculating what it’ll be like to have a part in the Mark’s literal reconstruction to the sort of wild customers Rita ran into at work. To your relief, you were moving further and further from the topic of Din, and your muscles relaxed once more.
Your phone sat dormant and forgotten in your jacket pocket.
~~~~
Din sighed as he entered the locker room, the events he’d just lived out playing back in his mind.
The rig arrived at the location and parked on the tiny curb in front of the house, the team filing in to take care of the patient. With Fennec out today, all eyes were on Din to make each call. Everything had gone smoothly and the paramedic unit got the patient to the hospital in time, but that didn’t make witnessing a heart attack any easier.
Din opened his locker with a small grunt. Life was too fragile. Too many things could go wrong at a moment’s notice. He sunk down onto a chair after retrieving his phone and began to scroll through it, hoping to silence the chaos unfolding in his mind.
A couple updates from Luke, one of which included a picture of Grogu standing on a chair with one of Din’s jackets cloaked over him. Din let out a laugh. He wanted nothing more than to go home to his boy.
As he kept scrolling, your name entered his sight and sent a flurry of nerves through his body. This was the first time you’d sent a text; he wondered if it had to do with the bookstore. A tinge of guilt ran through him when he saw the timestamp on your message: 2pm. Six hours ago. He bit his lip and opened it.
‘Kuiil’s teaching us how to bake macarons! Looks like we’ll have some new treats to try soon :)’
Din grinned. Even if he didn’t know what a macaron was, the fact that you thought of him enough during your day to let him in on what you were doing filled his heart with warmth. The little emoticon at the end was the icing on the cake; as cute as it was, though, it was no replacement for your real smile.
He tapped the little box and contemplated how to respond. His fingers took over, darting their way around the keyboard.
‘I don’t know if I’ve ever tried a macaron. I’ll have to check them out when they’re ready.’
He read it over a few times before sending it and letting his hands fall into his lap. He wondered what else you’d gotten up to, what you might be doing at that moment. It was late, the sun far beyond the horizon’s line and the stars hiding behind clouds and light-polluted skies.
His mind wandered back to the day before. When he was finally able to take a moment for himself, after putting Grogu to bed and allowing his mind to fall at ease, all he wound up thinking about was you. Like a broken record, the idea of you swarmed about his mind without relent, and he was helpless to do anything about it. It had been far too long since he’d seen you, since he’d gotten to recharge and relax in your presence.
The decision to call you wasn’t a difficult one to make despite the many stressful minutes spent staring at your contact before actually clicking on it.
He was grateful he’d done it. Not only had he satisfied his growing need to talk with you again, but it felt as though he gained insight into another side of you: the person you were when you were just at home, without any other obligation to the world. You were looser with your words, your tone brighter and more playful. It had him hooked on you all over again. He didn’t even care that the two of you stayed on the phone until 1am; he hardly noticed the time go by until you started yawning.
He recalled holding the phone tighter as you both said your goodbyes. He didn’t end it right away, instead taking an extra moment to feel your presence as much as the device would allow. And he couldn’t help the small spark of glee in his chest when you didn’t end the call, either.
He smiled as the sensation began to simmer in his chest again. He opened up his phone and began to type out another message.
‘I hope you had a good day today.’
~~~~
A few days had passed since Din sent the message that caused you to fling your phone across the room.
You had been watching a movie in your bed when it came through. You hadn’t even read it – seeing his name on the screen was enough to send you into a mild panic, which only got worse when your phone buzzed again from its landing destination.
Once you gained the courage to continue the conversation, the two of you sent a couple more messages to each other over the days. A tingle ran through your system whenever your phone buzzed, wondering if it was him.
You hadn’t checked your phone since before your shift of the day began, though; you had no clue if you’d be hearing from him today. You focused instead on getting each order right, working with Omera to try and decrease the long line in front of the counter.
“This feels unusual,” you said, “Is there a reason we’re extra busy at a time like this?”
“Maybe it’s because this is the first hint of sun we’ve seen in two weeks?” Omera reasoned with a shrug. “Lots of iced orders are coming in.”
You nodded and got to work on the next drink in the queue: an iced mocha.
You moved about the little space, double-checking each ingredient and specific request before adding it into the mixture and pouring it over ice. When the drink was complete you handed it off at the pickup area with a grin. The customer took it without looking up from her phone, a small grunt escaping her lips. You shrugged it off and went back to start the next drink.
Not two moments had passed before that same customer called out towards you with a harsh, “Hey!” Your head snapped over to where she stood with an angry expression at the counter’s edge. You took a deep breath and walked to stand in front of her.
“Is there a problem, ma’am?” you asked, careful to keep your tone calm despite the nerves squeezing your muscles.
“Yes. There is. I specifically asked for oat milk in this, but I don’t think that’s what you gave me.”
The customer went on, her voice increasing in volume as she described what she was tasting, and how it proved her drink was made incorrectly.
“Oat milk has a very specific texture, I know that’s not in here! How hard can it be to get that right?!”
Irritation surged through your veins. You squeezed your hands into fists in front of you while you took on her rant, the volume of her voice digging into the recesses of your brain and threatening to shut you down. You took a deep breath and kept your expression as neutral as possible; there was no point trying to argue with someone like her.
“Messing up on the job is probably how you got that, too, isn’t it?”
She pointed at the burn scar poking out of your partially rolled-up sleeve. You bit the inside of your cheek, mustering up every ounce of energy not to flinch. You heard Omera step closer behind you and put a hand up to stop her.
The woman continued on, sprinkling even more personal insults into the mix. The world around you faded into the background, the narrow visions before you being coated in red. You barely noticed the other customers in line, or the new ones entering through the door; your anger and desire to punch this woman in the face overtook the moment. But you refused to let it show. A reaction is exactly what she wants, you thought to yourself.
After some time of you staring at her while she yelled, still keeping your face from revealing any sort of emotion, she finally stopped. The entire café had fallen silent. You let it stay like that for a moment before raising a brow at her and letting your frustration flow.
“You done?”
She did a double-take, her mouth opening before slamming shut.
“Did you accomplish anything with that?” you went on. “Did your little tantrum change the taste of your drink?”
She sputtered out a noise and looked around to see more patrons staring at her, some throwing her nasty glares.
“If you’d like, I can remake it for you. Or you can leave before you embarrass yourself further. As you can see, we’re very busy right now, and you’re holding us up. Please make your decision now.”
She glared at you.
“How dare you speak to me like that? Where is your manager-”
“I’m her manager,” Omera cut in, moving to stand just in front of you. “And I will not be giving you a choice. Leave now, and never come back.”
With a huff and a few parting words about regretting treating her that way, the woman eventually left. You let out a sigh as the built-up mix of adrenaline and anxiety now flowed freely through your veins.
Some patrons clapped, others started putting money into the tip jar. You registered about half of it with the way your head was pounding, your entire body shaking. When was the last time anyone made you that angry?
Omera insisted you take your break right then. With little energy to fight her, you nodded and apologized for leaving her with the line before making your way to the kitchen.
Part of you could’ve sworn you saw a familiar face in that crowd of customers, but you didn’t have it in you to look back.
****
Extra note: Mr. Masters by T.L. Swan is another book that is very much real and very much GOOD. If you're into the indulgent romance genre, I absolutely recommend this one! This author in general is wonderful tbh!
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st4rdust-ch0rds · 3 years
Text
Getaway || J.M. Kiszka
Synopsis: After spending endless nights at the studio, you wanted to treat Josh to a weekend getaway at a cabin.
Pairing: Josh Kiszka x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.3K
Warnings: 18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI! Sexual content ahead. Explicit language. Brief alcohol use.
A/N: So, I originally wrote this partially as a joke for just my friends to read because we have been throwing this idea around of a cabin vacation with Josh, taking inspiration from this photo specifically. I am not an expert on writing smut, so please read this with an open mind. Explicit writing is not my forte, but we all need a good challenge once in a while.
tagged: @samkiszkasbitch @theweightofstardust @sammykiszkamyass @kaaaaatekizska
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You and Josh have been together for a few months now. You have been fortunate enough to know him for a little over a year but finally allowed each other to become something more. Every day was a new day with him. You thought having a boyfriend who’s in a band would become overwhelming for you, but you found comfort through it all.
Lately, Josh has been spending long days and nights at the studio with the rest of the band. They were focusing on their new album, and your heart swelled at the thought of the boys’ passion for what they were doing. Of course, not being able to spend every hour of the day with him breaks your heart. The past couple of weeks, he’s been getting home at 10 or 11 at night. He sneaks into bed, trying his hardest not to wake you. You always try to wake up and talk to him as much as you can but end up dozing off mid-conversation.
You remember Josh mentioning a while back how this coming weekend the guys are taking time off from being at the studio. Josh has been working extremely hard at the studio and decided he deserves a weekend to himself away from everything. You booked a weekend getaway at a cabin in the Chattanooga mountains to surprise him. Trying to get ahead of your game, as soon as Josh left for the studio Friday morning, you started gathering things together for you to leave that afternoon.
You spent the entire day packing your car with essentials for you two to have the perfect weekend. Focused on your tasks, you lose track of time. Josh came home earlier than expected.
“Babe?” you hear Josh call, “you home?” He walks around your apartment to find you shuffling through the closet. He laughs as he sees your head buried in a pile of folded laundry. He comes up behind you and places his hand around your waist, startling you. You jump and turn around.
“What are you doing home?” you ask, trying to slow your heart rate.
“We decided to wrap up early,” he pulls you in for a quick kiss, “what are you doing in the closet?” A devious smile grows on your face as you walk away from him, avoiding his question.
“Come to the car,” you turn your head over your shoulder, grabbing your bag and your keys. Josh’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion but follows suit. You’re not one to be spontaneous like this, which intrigued him thoroughly.
Josh notices all the travel bags packed into the backseat and trunk. He tries to put the pieces together in his brain, but can’t come to the conclusion on where you could possibly be going. You two had a strict rule that the passenger had control of the music. Because of this rule, Josh always opted for you to drive. He hit shuffle on a playlist you two made together and “Annie’s Song” by John Denver began to play.
Josh became very quizzical on where you were taking him but eventually became familiar with his surroundings once you arrived closer to the cabin.
“Why are we at a cabin?” he asks with a smile, “Is this some cabin in the woods, Evil Dead kind of situation?”
“Oh, yeah, absolutely,” you play along, “I decided to bring you here to lock you in the bedroom, tie you to the bedposts, and make you slowly suffer.” His eyes grew dark. You didn’t intend for that sentence to be sexual, or maybe you did. The night’s still young.
Together, you and Josh unpack the car and start to make yourselves at home in the cabin. You begin to unpack your clothes, putting the respective items in the closet and dresser in hopes to prevent wrinkles. Josh remained in the living room, digging through vinyls that were left in the cabin from previous renters. Nothing caught his interest but lucked out on finding the “With The Beatles” album by The Beatles. You hear “It Won't Be Long” blast through the speakers reaching the bedroom down the hall. Josh comes through the bedroom door jumping and singing along with the lyrics. You laugh at his performance as he takes you in by the waist and holds you close. He presses you to flush against his chest, holding one hand behind your waist and the other holding your hand in his like a traditional waltz style. You gently place your free hand upon his shoulder and look up at his golden honey eyes.
You two dance from room to room as the record plays. Laughing and dancing. You have never felt such euphoria with Josh in a while. You waltzed your way into the kitchen, and pull yourself away from him to get something from the container you brought the food in. Pulling out a wine bottle, raising it in the air with a grin. Josh likes what you were implying, heading towards the cupboard for two glasses. Many records and glasses later, you both were significantly tipsier than you intended.
“So, why are we here, love?” Josh finally asks. You placed your glass down and felt now was a better time to explain your plan.
“You’ve been so busy at the studio, and I just wanted to give you some relaxation, just the two of us.” The apples of his cheeks grew pink from his smile.
“I will be honest, I did miss you those late nights I had to spend at the studio,” he said as he held your face in his hand. He placed a soft kiss on your lips. The sweet taste of the wine lingered in his mouth. You looked up into his eyes, your heart fluttered. He took you back into another kiss, this time with more passion. It was filled with hunger. You two have definitely been very deprived of some action lately but didn’t want to admit it. You missed each other for more reasons than one.
Your kisses become deeper and hungrier. Your mouths move together in perfect harmony like your mouths were made to be doing this. His tongue touched your bottom lip, asking for access into your mouth. You grant his wish. A moan exits your mouth as your tongues twisted and danced as you two were earlier. Josh’s arms traveled up and down your back, ultimately finding home around your bottom. He grabs your ass with a firm grip and pulls you hard against his waist. You feel him growing harder by the second. You begin unbuttoning his button-down shirt, feeling his smooth chest beneath your touch. The way the warm light of the lamps mixed with the natural moonlight coming from the window.
“Hang on,” you say, slowly pulling away from him. Josh was confused by your sudden want to stop. You run into your room and grab your Polaroid. “Stay right there,” you hold your hand out to signal him to stay in his place. You quickly take the picture, placing the photo and the camera on the counter. You dash back over to Josh to pick up where you left off.
You grab Josh’s face in your hands, smashing your face into his. Your fingers intertwine in his curls. Josh’s hands find themselves at home underneath your shirt. Before you could even notice, he grabbed the hem of your shirt and lifted it over your head. You didn’t want to be alone in this party and continued unbuttoning his top. Your hands moved along every curve in his torso. You trailed his hands down his pecs, his stomach, landing on the waistline of his pants.
You fiddled with his belt buckle, ripping it out of the loops in one swift motion. The metal buckle hit the hardwood floor with a clang. Becoming impatient, Josh grabs your hand and runs towards the bedroom, shutting the door behind you. He pulls you in for another deep kiss before pushing you back onto the bed. He crawls over you, staring at you, taking in the scene below him.
He kisses you, now filled with lust. He unhooks the back of your bra, tossing it behind his shoulder. He trails kisses along your jaw, biting and leaving marks as he slowly makes his way down your neck. He latched himself onto your breast while massaging the other with his hand. A moan escaped your lips as your fingers returned to his hair, lightly tugging on his brunet curls. He entertains your breasts for a while, but he seems to be growing impatient with himself. He very much believes in foreplay, as do you, but you two have been deprived of each other for so long that something needed to happen quickly. He trails more kisses and love bites along your torso as he goes down your stomach. He shimmies off your pants, leaving you in your underwear.
Kneeling in front of you, he begins rubbing your core over the fabric of your underwear, feeling the wetness pooling. He grows a sly grin, “You missed me, didn’t you?”
“You have no idea,” you lean up, meeting his lips. You straddle yourself around his hips, moving yours to grind against his pelvis. He moans into your mouth as your cores grind harder and harder against each other. He digs his fingers into your thighs, knowing there will be bruises for you to view in the morning. He places a hand on your back as he guides you back down onto the bed. He backs himself off to take off his pants. The silhouette of his hard dick can be seen through his underwear even in the dimly lit bedroom. Your mouth waters at the sight before you.
“God, you’re absolutely stunning,” Josh says, admiring you as if you are the first woman he has seen naked. He gently takes the fabric of your underwear in his hands and tugs it off your hips. He picks up your leg and positions it on his shoulder, tracing kisses along your legs, leading himself towards your pulsing heat. You moan with sudden delight as his tongue makes contact with your core. Trying to not be obnoxious, you cover your mouth trying to mute your moans.
“No, mama,” Josh lifts his head up from your core, “I want to hear you. Tell me how much you missed me.” He immediately reattached his mouth to your clit, circling his tongue around it. You whimper at the sensation.
“I missed you so much,” you say through heavy breaths, “I miss you more than you can ever know.” He slips a digit into you, causing your breath to hitch. Keeping a steady pumping motion, he begins to insert more fingers inside of you. He curls his fingers, hitting just the right spot. You feel a warm heat growing in your stomach as he continues his actions.
“Wait, babe,” you say, halting his action, “I’m going to cum if you keep doing that.”
“Right, isn’t that the point?” he said with his usual cocky attitude.
“Yes, but I want you inside of me when I do.”
That was music to Josh’s ears. He crawls his way back up to you and meets your lips. You taste yourself on your tongue as he slides his boxers off. His rock-hard member slaps against his stomach as the elastic waistband frees it. You reach down to his dick, grabbing to start stroking. He moans into your mouth at the feeling of your firm grip around his dick.
“I really missed this,” he says in between sloppy kisses. He takes his member from your hand into his own, positioning himself to enter you. With a sudden, but gentle thrust, he enters himself into you. You both moan at the pleasure. Slowly but surely, he moves into you until he bottoms out, completely inside of you. Josh's thrusts began to pick up the pace while still allowing you to adjust to him.
Soon enough, his thrusts were becoming more and more aggressive, smashing his hips against yours. You reach up and wrap your hands around his back to gain traction. You drag your nails along his back, leaving trails of red. He won’t admit it, but you’ve caught him staring at the scratches on his back with smug pride.
“I’m so close, Josh” you moan into the crook of his neck.
“Me too, mama,” his movements are becoming sloppy as he approaches his end, “where do you want me to come?”
“With me, inside me,” a fire grew in Josh’s eyes from your words. He became determined to fulfill your wish. You felt yourself reaching your end. You knew Josh was about to finish any second as you felt him twitch against your walls.
Fireworks ignited throughout your body as you released around his dick. You allowed Josh to chase his own climax and fought through your sensitivity. He threw his head back and let out an intense moan, louder than anything you’ve ever heard him do. He slowly dropped himself onto your chest, feeling your sweaty skin touching as you catch your breaths. After a while, he softly pecks your forehead and removes himself from you. He holds his hand out to help you up from the bed. You slowly stand up from the bed, following Josh as he leads you to the bathroom.
Josh starts the water in the shower, allowing it to heat up. “This was the best idea you’ve ever had,” he said, tucking a hair behind your ear. He takes your face in his hand and kisses you, softer than before. You two should get away more often.
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queerprayers · 2 years
Note
hey, do you have any lent ideas? i’m not a very observant/emotionally spiritually engaged catholic at this point in my life. but i am mentally and culturally there. like i want to keep doing this tradition, even if i haven’t been to church in a while and don’t imagine taking myself for a long while.
however, i just don’t know what i can give up. i really don’t spend money on anything i don’t need, and taking away some of that from myself just seems cruel. limiting luxuries wouldn’t be noticeable. idk what to do!
much love <3
Hello, beloved! Great question!
If your life is already simple, especially if you don't have very much, you're right, taking away something that makes you happy would just be miserable. There's a lot of assumption that goes into Lent suggestions/guidelines, and one of those is that the person reading them is reasonably well-off, regularly has enough to eat, and has a lot of extra things/activities in their life. For so many of us, these things aren't true.
So let's take the focus away from punishing/limiting and find a practice that you can add/include in your life! Here are some ideas—and anyone's welcome to add their own suggestions in the replies.
Start a daily/almost-daily/whenever-you-can prayer practice! We got the rosary, prayer books, guided meditation, taking a walk in the woods, crying—all great ways to pray. (My prayer tag)
Start/come back to/continue reading the Bible! (My Bible tag)
Set aside a day of rest/prayer! You could look into the Jewish Sabbath tradition (note: we're researching & taking inspiration here, not appropriating specific practices), follow a more traditional Christian Sunday-is-the-Lord's-day practice, or create your own way to, once a week (or when you can), remember who you are, that work isn't everything, and that rest is God-ordained.
Start/continue a creative practice, like journaling, poetry, or art! Maybe start keeping a daily journal or write a poem every day. No perfectionism allowed, and no one ever has to see what you create—create for yourself and God. The Artist's Way is a book/practice that really helped me create a spiritual philosophy re: my art. It can be a bit self-help-y/cheesy at times, but it definitely introduced me to a new frame of mind. You can start with its creative affirmations.
Pick a book to read—there are many Lenten devotionals available, but it could be any theme/genre. My absolute favorite Lent book is queering lent by the poet slats, and this year I'm checking out O Beautiful Dust by RW Walker, which was just published by one of my friends!
Pick a subject to research! It doesn't have to be specifically religious—learning about anything can bring you closer to God and the created world. I've been learning a lot about Mary Magdalene recently.
Start/continue being politically active! Register to vote, call your local officials (see this website if in the US), attend a protest, join an organization, learn about an issue.
Volunteer! My favorite suggestion will always be your local library, but you can also look into food pantries, animal shelters, and children's programs. You can also volunteer for a variety of online projects here.
Reach out to someone you haven't talked to in a while—maybe someone you've harmed or has harmed you (if it's safe), or someone you accidentally never replied to, or someone you want to get closer to. God is love, and your relationship to God is bound up in your relationships with others.
Start/continue a physical practice, such as yoga. I always always will shout out Yoga With Adriene. (If you're not Indian, and especially if you're white, maybe check out Decolonizing Yoga as well.)
That's what I got for now. There's no pressure to reinvent your religious/spiritual life, and there are not have-to's when it comes to this season. However we get to Easter, we get there. Even if nothing at all about your life changes in the next forty days (+ Sundays), Easter will come. Memonto mori (remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return), memento vivere (remember that you are alive, and you will be resurrected).
<3 Johanna
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yslkook · 3 years
Text
UNFUCKWITABLE (9)
mind of mine masterlist
summary: jungkook convinces you to take a staycation with him for a few days (a week).
pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc
warnings: cursing, alc, excessive use of pet names, oc and jk discuss their unprotected sex practices, vomiting, some jealous jk, mild exhibitionism, fingers in oc's mouth grinding, making out, oral (m), titjob
word count: 7k
a/n: if you want to be tagged, send an ask plz. would love to hear your thoughts. also...cant believe mom manifested into butter jk im in pain
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Jungkook is unsurprised to enter your home with the key you’d given him the other week and find it completely empty. You’ve been working early mornings and incredibly late nights for the last week and a half, and he can tell it’s beginning to take a toll on you. The first sign that you were beginning to wear down was when you had skipped dinner in favor of sleeping. The second was when you had snapped at him in irritation and then immediately cried over hurting his feelings.
He can think of about a dozen other things, including the even more pronounced bags under your eyes. You’ve always had dark circles under your eyes naturally from hyperpigmentation but these days, not even concealer can help you mask them.
In fact, the reason that you’d even given him a key was because you felt like work was taking over your entire life. You’d hardly had a chance to see anyone who wasn’t a work colleague, and you just missed Jungkook. At least this way, you could wake up and go to bed with him.
You had only been calling Jungkook your partner just shy of four months, and he had a key to your home. Perhaps it was fast for other people, but with him, it felt right. So he keeps a copy of your keys on his lanyard- it’s possibly his most prized possession right now. Jungkook usually only comes when you ask him to, he’s been staying at your place for the last week because of how tired and busy you were.
Usually you stop by the tattoo parlor at least once or twice a week, but you have been sparse because of work. So he’s here, in your home without you. It felt strange the first few times he’d been here without you, but then he started leaving little pockets of himself- his shoes next to yours, his hair product on your shelf, and his two of his jackets hanging near yours in the closet. He’d even purchased a new plant to keep on your windowsill in your living room (which you take turns dutifully watering and making sure she gets enough sunlight).
It’s all very domestic. He had jokingly told you not to expose him to your shared friends, specifically Mina and Mei. To which you had rolled your eyes.
Though some small, very small, part of him wonders if the magic will fade away soon. Considering how fast you both are moving both physically into your home and in your relationship.
It’s only been a few months, and you both were incredibly comfortable with the idea of unprotected sex- after all, Jungkook always pulls out in time. Until, of course, you’d had a pregnancy scare. Hoseok and Yoongi, ever the pair of realists, had scolded him when Jungkook had revealed that you both hardly ever used any protection-
“Are you trying to knock her up? Is that it? You both ready to potentially be parents?” Yoongi says mildly as he polishes off his wine, looking at Jungkook expectantly. Jungkook’s cheeks burn.
“No, I’m not trying to knock her up and no, nobody’s trying to be parents-”
“You both are lucky you haven’t knocked her up already,” Hoseok says, with more heat in his voice, “You both are fucking stupid, but you especially.” He even smacks the back of his head with the book in his hands and Jungkook glares at him.
“Hey, my pull out game has always been strong, and I’m serious about her. We wouldn’t fuck raw if-”
“Oh, yes, then we definitely have nothing to worry about,” Yoongi says, “Keep it moving, Hobi.
“Talk to her about it, or else,” Hoseok threatens, “I don’t wanna hear about another pregnancy scare because you’re both idiots.”
“I know, I know,” Jungkook relents, “We’ve been talking about it. It just sucks that birth control can fuck up a woman’s body like that, you know? Mood changes and appetite changes, nausea and everything…”
“You could always get a vasectomy,” Yoongi says bluntly.
“Mei said the same thing. She was way more mean about it, though. Told me she’d cut my balls off if I didn’t get my shit together.”
“I don’t blame her, considering what a mess you both were last month.”
“We were not a mess!”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so stressed ever in your life, not even when your first bike got run over by a car. Or when your tattoo got infected three consecutive times. And I’ve never seen her cry so much before.”
“Alright, maybe we’re a little bit of a mess.”
In the end, you and Jungkook had both decided that yes, condoms were probably a good idea. Considering the pregnancy scare you had last month, you both were on edge and a little paranoid. Jungkook hadn’t even mentioned the idea of you taking birth control or getting an IUD, knowing that your last few experiences with the former were unpleasant-
“I can get a vasectomy, you know. In fact, Yoongi suggested it,” Jungkook shrugs nonchalantly but your jaw drops.
“Jungkook. I don’t think vasectomies are reversible like that. Think about what you’re saying,” You murmur, “I’m touched you’d consider a surgical procedure so I don’t have to take birth control, but what if-”
“I looked it up, they can be reversed-”
“But Jungkook! You don’t know that, what if you want to have kids later and you can’t because you decided on a fucking whim to get a vasectomy? It’s still trauma on your body! You can’t just snip snap, snip snap your vas deferens tube whenever you please. At least with birth control you can start and stop it, even if that’s not a completely benign process.”
Jungkook looks at you long and hard, his tongue poking his cheek and you sigh. “But I don’t-”
“Honey. I appreciate your thoughtfulness,” You murmur, squeezing his hands in yours, “But we’re both being stupid. We’re both acting like condoms don’t exist. Why don’t we start with condoms and then think about getting your tubes tied or me getting an IUD?”
“You spoiled me,” Jungkook complains dramatically and drops his head to your chest, “With your pussy. I’m spoiled now.”
“Shut up.”
And so now, a box of condoms sits in the drawer of your nightstand and you’ve taken to bringing a few with you in your purse as well (and so does he). You’d been far more nervous buying condoms than you’d ever been of buying anything else, and Jungkook had only cockily grinned at you.
Today’s Friday and it’s the day of your deadline. Meaning that you’d hopefully be home soon and be his for the rest of the weekend. He fully plans on getting you to relax and stay in for the majority of the weekend, so that you can catch up on sleep.
But then you come home past dinner (you had sent him a text earlier telling him that you were going to be late. He knows your mood is sour- you had been in a foul mood all week, and the fact that you’re so close to being home but so far just makes it worse). You come home with an empty belly, a weary mind and wetness along your lash line. Climbing into bed next to him, you circle your arms around his waist and cry tiredly into his chest.
“J-Jungkook,” You hiccup, “I’m so tired, they kept me s-so late today but it’s done. Everything is finished-”
“Oh, baby,” He sighs, rubbing your back soothingly, “It’s okay. We can just sleep now. You should take a few days off next week, baby.”
“I don’t know…” But your eyes are wide and considering it.
“You’ve been running on empty all week,” Jungkook points out, “For longer than that. Your job can handle two or three days without you while you recharge. Text your boss, baby. You need to rest, too.”
He nudges your cheek with his nose and you hum in agreement. “Okay. Five day weekend? Sure you won’t get tired of me?” You murmur and laugh when he squeezes your waist.
“We can make it a staycation.”
And you’re already texting your boss, telling her that you needed a few days off next week. She gives you a thumbs up and encourages you to rest up, making it a point to recognize how hard you’ve been working. She even suggests you take the full week off, which you jump at and Jungkook only grins at you.
“My brilliant girl, charming her way into a full week off.”
You swat his hand away and hide your burning but satisfied face in his chest. “Yeah, your bad habits are rubbing off on me.”
“Oh, that’s not the only thing rubbing off on you,” Jungkook says wickedly and pushes his hips into yours, earning a fierce pinch to his bare waist.
“Hush, I’m trying to nap,” You mumble, your voice muffled. Without warning, you lick his neck and bite lightly at the base of his neck, ignoring his soft yelp. He doesn’t have a chance to question you on what that was, as you’re already falling asleep.
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You’ve always thought from the beginning, even when you and Jungkook were just friends, that he was an ass man. You’ve caught him staring at your ass many, many times- in jeans, in a dress, in a skirt. And now that you both are officially together, he spends any and every moment he can with a hand on your ass. Casually, when you both walk side by side. And purposefully when you’re both just in his bed or on your couch. His hand is a well known presence on your ass, not that you’re complaining.
One of Jungkook’s favorite places to nap is on your ass, with his cheek pressed into you and one hand firmly gripping your ass. He also likes laying with his head on your lap. But his favorite place to nap is with his head buried in your chest, specifically buried in between your tits. He is currently analyzing his hypothesis that your right tit is smaller than your left, a thought he’s had for a while now, but needs further samples of evidence to properly assess.
But he’s always had an affinity for your tits, whether you’re blissfully unaware of it or not. You don’t notice it not really- you like any and all of his touches on any inch of your skin, as you’ve told him many times before. Especially when he holds you close next to him or under him and you feel protected, surrounded by only him.
He holds you, looks at you as if you’re as soothing as the sea and as bright as a supernova. And yet, the universe is contained in his big, doe eyes.
But really, at the end of the day, it’s an affinity for you. Jungkook loves every part of your mind, body, and soul, and he thinks he has for a long time. His heart has been tangled with yours since the first time he had seen you years ago at Hobi’s surprise birthday party that you had planned. Jungkook is sure that when he had seen you with a homemade red velvet cheesecake with a ‘Happy Birthday Hobi <3’ written perfectly in red icing in your arms, a silly party hat on your head, and a shy, beaming smile on your lips, he had been magnetized to your center of gravity from then on.
But even then, he had only hovered. Barely introducing himself, if it weren’t for Mina and Mei. He thought he had known girls like you- girls who baked cakes, planned elaborate birthday parties for their friends and wore flowery dresses liked other predictable people. It’s another one of his hypotheses (which has been clearly debunked)- but by now, he knows not to be so judgmental of others.
But he doesn’t dwell on that for long. Even the first time he met you, right after he had introduced himself to you and you had stared at him with starstruck eyes and stammered a quiet ‘hello’ in return, Sora had cornered him. And told him to back off from right then, that you were off limits. That you’d never be interested in a guy like him, so to not even spend a second in his stupid little mind even entertaining the ridiculous idea.
So he backed off subconsciously, thinking it wasn’t worth it to even know you as a friend. He’d convinced himself that it was too much trouble, and Jungkook has always been an easygoing kind of guy in most instances. After all, your best friend would know you best, right? And really, what did he care? As the saying goes, there were about a million other fish in the sea.
However. Even then, with each word uttered between you both, with each laugh that he pulled from your soft mouth, he couldn’t help the reluctant fondness for you that began to bloom. You had surprised him every few months after that, just saying hello at events that you were both present at and asking how he was. With that stupidly beautiful smile and those bright, shy eyes.
You were a smart, kind woman, always remembering details about others. And he was no exception.
That was years ago. He’s known you since your third year at university, hanging by a thread just outside your orbit. But this is now.
This is now, and your lips are against his neck, your chest pressed to his. You climb into his lap haphazardly, nearly knocking your mug off of the coffee table. You both have only just woken up and stumbled out of bed for coffee and breakfast. You had combed the tangles out of his bedhead with his head in your lap, but now sleepiness has washed away and you’re tugging at his oversized shirt.
You promptly bite him, right where his neck tattoo starts and ends. Jungkook meets your eyes with an incredulous, breathy laugh. “What’s gotten into you?” He murmurs, palming your chest from under your shirt.
“Nothing. You just have a very biteable neck, I told you,” You say, resuming your inspection of the vein next to his tattoo, “What a juicy jugular vein-”
Jungkook holds your wrist and flips you so that your back is on the couch. “My sexy vampire girlfriend. Love when she starts talking about my jugular vein.”
“Watch out, I might drink from it. You never know,” You giggle with a wink, squirming in his grip.
“You can do whatever you want,” Jungkook murmurs but then an idea that has been planted in his head for weeks now spills from his lips without him meaning to, “I wanna fuck your tits, baby.”
Your eyes go comically wide, mimicking Jungkook’s own. His cheeks are a little pink from his abrupt confession as silence falls between you both.
“That’s really interesting,” You muse.
“Is it?” He asks, feeling a little lightheaded. You tug a little at his purple locks to pull him down to you.
“Yeah. Always thought you liked booty. And legs,” You shrug, “But I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised.”
Jungkook’s throat is too dry for him to reply coherently. But he finds his voice after you give him a reassuring smile, “Uh, when it’s you, I like everything.”
“Me too. When it’s you, I like everything,” You mumble, heat rising in your cheeks, “And uh… you can. Do that I mean.”
“Do what?” He asks teasingly, tilting his head to the side.
“Don’t play dumb,” You whine, shoving his shoulder.
“C’mon say it,” Jungkook jeers, not unkindly, “Put your big girl panties on.”
“I hate you,” You sigh dramatically, “Fine. You can fuck my tits, if you so desire.” His face splits into a grin as he thumbs your chin and ducks his head into your neck. He playfully nips at your skin, murmuring that he’s just giving you a taste of your own medicine, but you feel his half hard cock pressing against your thigh.
The image of his cock wet and slick between your tits is now imprinted in your mind, and when both of you want something, you’ll surely get it.
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Despite your eagerness of making Jungkook’s wish a reality, neither of you have had the chance for your usual shenanigans just yet. You still have quite a few days of your staycation left, so you won’t rush it. You had spent most of the first two days sleeping, cuddling, spooning, eating and lots and lots of slow sex.
You think you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve left your bed. Jungkook has been nothing short of wonderful, bringing you food (just this once, you hate eating while in bed), giving you shoulder rubs and booty rubs without you asking. Your favorite ice cream is in your freezer. Life is good.
His shirt hangs off of your shoulder and you’re too lazy to fix it. In fact you’re too lazy for pajama bottoms, only settling on your favorite pair of comfortable panties (nothing flashy. Just a standard black cotton panty) to wear under your shirt. One might even call them granny panties or whatever, but lace was uncomfortable on your skin. Lace and thongs are for very, very special occasions (hardly if ever) and you are in the comfort of your own home. You’ll be comfortable if it’s the last thing you do.
In fact, you’re too lazy to even raise your head to pucker your lips for a kiss from Jungkook. You only open your arms and hum, as if he’s supposed to telepathically know what you want from him. But he does, and he flops onto you once he tugs his shirt off. Jungkook’s face remains buried in your chest as you gently rub his scalp.
He hums happily, nearly purring at your touch and shoves himself closer into your hold. You can’t believe this man, the man who mildly intimidated you for years, is now in your arms and purring like a baby kitten. He’s admitted a few times that his scalp has been irritated and inflamed ever since he dyed his hair purple. One of his favorite things is to lay in your lap while you massage a mix of coconut oil and peppermint oil into his scalp.
He looks up at you, warm heat blazing in his eyes. You’re about to ask him what he’s thinking about but he palms your pussy from under your shirt- your still swollen, puffy pussy from the four times he’s made you cum already.
“Can I help you, Jungkook,” You ask flatly, but your poker face breaks when he dots you with kisses up and down your thighs.
“Yeah, fuck,” Jungkook groans, voice slowing to a whine, “I’m still hard, baby, fuck. Help me.”
“How are you still hard,” You wonder with a grin, “Damn, Jeon. You must really like me, huh?”
“If that wasn’t obvious then I’m clearly not doing something right here,” He breathes into your skin.
“Gimme a kiss then,” You murmur, pushing his long hair behind his ear. His eyebrow piercing glints in the light of your bedroom and you trace it gently with your fingertips. Jungkook desperately pushes his lips to yours, parting your lips easily and slipping his tongue into your mouth. He kisses your teeth hungrily, strands of his hair brushing against your cheeks.
His hips roll into yours impatiently, hands already pawing at your shirt. The air in your bedroom is suddenly so stifling, thick and nearly choking you both with the intensity of your desire. You just want him to feel good with you.
“Jungkook,” You say softly with warm cheeks, “You can use me, however you want. Tell me what you want, bunny.”
He lets out a quiet gasp, his eyes bright and wide.
You’re both on the same page, because he’s scrambling to chuck his boxers to the side and you’re tossing your shirt on top of his boxers.
***********************
“Fuuuck,” Jungkook groans. He’s breathless, heart racing erratically. All he can do is hold your shoulders as he watches with a piercing, hazy gaze as his cock is swallowed in between your tits. You squeeze them tightly together, trying to create as much friction as you can for him.
“Fuck,” He whines, “Fuck, you look so good, baby. O-oh, shit, my pretty baby, you’re pretty-”
Jungkook nearly cums when you mischievously stick your tongue out to brush against the head of his leaking cock. The visual is almost too much for him and his breaths are choked, strangled as he forces himself to look into your dark eyes.
“So big, bunny, look,” You say softly, “You like this? You’re so hot like this…”
He’s nearly in tears, eyes shining and wet at how good this feels. If your pussy was a slice of heaven, then your tits were the next best thing. You moan softly, feeling your own wetness and heat pooling. Jungkook’s cheeks and chest are flushed, eyes wild and wet as he slides his cock in between the valley of your tits languidly. Almost as if he doesn’t want the moment to end.
You’re so warm, warm everywhere.
His muscles are tense, the furrow in his brow beginning to appear when he’s about to cum. “Shit, baby, oh my god, I love your tits,” Jungkook moans, tossing his head back, “Fuck, I love everything about you-”
You don’t know how he’s able to form coherent sentences to you when he’s this close to cumming. But he’s always been a man of many talents.
“You know what I just realized,” You gasp suddenly, “Neither of us made it official that we’re dating. Like I never asked you ‘out’ and you never asked me ‘out’-”
“Fuck, you talk too much,” Jungkook nearly snarls, “My cock is literally in between your tits and I’m about to fucking cum all over you and you think I belong to anyone else?”
You swallow thickly, Jungkook narrowing his eyes at you. He looks intimidating and intense above you, his powerful, golden thighs straddling either side of you.
“N-no, I was just-”
Jungkook shoots you a glare, reaches behind him and gathers your wetness with two fingers. Before you can ask him what he’s doing, he pushes two fingers into your mouth to shut you up. You send him a glare right back, but it melts away quickly when you swirl your tongue and suck on his digits.
He cums without warning, hastily and with a broken sort of sound ripping from his throat. It’s warm and sticky as it lands on your chest and your cheek. But he cums so much and much to your chagrin some of his cum gets in your eye and you nearly shriek at the burn.
“Jungkook! What the hell, your cum is in my fucking eyeball-”
He’s still panting above you, like some sort of golden boy, and it takes him a few seconds to register your irritation. “Oh shit,” Jungkook says and jumps into action. He tugs you into the bathroom to gently wash your eye for you (after washing his own hands), with you grumbling the entire time.
“I’m sorry, baby,” He says sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. You roll your eyes and demand to be taken back to bed and lavished in kisses as penance for his cum shooting into your eye.
Jungkook tastes himself a little when his tongue slips into your mouth, but it hardly registers as he rolls on top of you, caging you in between his arms.
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Jungkook fleetingly thinks he should’ve spent more time trying to convince you to stay home with him. Maybe with a few soft, long kisses to your neck, he might have. You looked delectable, good enough to eat- your dress fitted around your hips, nails, hair, and makeup done, the scent of your perfume subtle but not irritating to his sensitive nose.
You had asked him to pick what jewelry to wear, so one of his long necklaces sitting around your neck and disappearing into the valley of your chest. It doesn’t really match with your dress, but you don’t care.
And Jungkook… well, it was difficult for you to keep your hands off of him as well. His hair is tied back into a neat ponytail, he’s wearing a sequined black (fitted) button up with the top four buttons undone, a thick, silver chain and ripped, black jeans. Your eyes are glued to his chest and he knows it- you can’t help but grip his arm, his bicep whenever you can.
Neither of you really enjoyed the club scene, but you had wanted to go out since it had been a really long time and after all, you were on your staycation. Mei had planted the idea in your head, and so now here Jungkook was.
Here he was, catching flashes off the satin, coral colored wrap dress that you were encased in. For someone who doesn’t like the scene, you blend in effortlessly. But you’re a grown woman, so he takes his eyes off of you and orders a round of shots for him, Jimin, Taehyung and Jin while nursing a bottle of soju.
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In the midst of the thumping bass bouncing off of the walls in the club, you’re only aware of you and Mei while you both sing along to whatever song is blasting through the club. Mina disappeared a while ago, presumably to find Jimin.
You’re holding two drinks, one in each hand, and all you feel is the vibrations of the club. Along with your own drunkenness. Mei holds your arm to keep you steady as you move your hips in time with hers. You laugh loudly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders at something she said. Everything is amplified and muted at the same time, the swirl of alcohol settling comfortably in your veins.
You’re having a great time with your friends, dancing, swirling, singing and drinking. It’s a nice night to unwind, in the company of dear friends and strangers.
“Hey,” Mei murmurs in your ear, “I gotta pee and I’m gonna go find Seulgi-”
“You can just say that you wanna go find her,” You giggle, “Don’t blame your bladder on it, Mei.”
“Oh, you’re funny. I’ll text Jungkook and tell him to come find you, alright?” Mei says, patting your head. You nod and tell her to go find her girl, and she does. Leaving you to your own devices for a bit, at least until Jungkook makes his way to you.
However, what neither of you realize is that the cell reception in this building is terrible. Mei’s text never goes through and you stay in your bubble, with your two drinks in your hands and bounce along to the music.
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You’re not sure how much time goes by, but it feels like you’ve been alone for quite a while. You squint your eyes at your phone to check the time and send a text to Jungkook. A text that never goes through. You frown and are about to turn on your heel to link up with your man (wherever he might be), but you hear a surprised call of your name.
It’s hard to keep the incredulity out of your face when you come face to face with Yunho, the man who had stood you up all those months ago. The air has almost been punched out of your lungs, and you have to squint at him to believe what you’re seeing.
He calls your name again, giving you a wave and a bright smile. “Funny seeing you here, huh?”
“Uh…”
“Can I buy you a drink? I feel like I owe it to you after…” His eyes are sincere. At least you think so, with your drunk goggles on.
“I don’t know, Yunho, it’s okay…” You mumble unsurely, “Isn’t this weird?”
“It’s only weird if we make it weird,” Yunho says and pulls a chuckle out of you.
“Oh, alright. I guess a drink won’t hurt,” You shrug and lead the way to the bar. The least he can do for you after standing you up and hurting your feelings is buy you a drink, you think.
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“Hey listen, I owe you an apology,” Yunho says, sliding your drink towards you.
“Oh, it’s- it was a long time ago,” You shrug, avoiding his eyes. Sure, it was a hit to your ego, but in hindsight it doesn’t matter. Not when you have Jungkook. Honestly, you’ve forgotten that Yunho had even been a blip in your radar once upon a time. It was only because of Sora, anyway.
“I had something urgent come up last minute that day and I asked Sora to tell you,” Yunho continues, “I’m sorry I didn’t follow up or even reach out to you after. But I’d heard that you were with Jeon now, so didn’t want to… overstep, I guess.”
And even through your drunken haze, you understand. You sigh deeply, pinching the bridge of your nose.
“Oh boy,” You groan, “Sora never told me about that but we’re not close anymore, Yunho. It’s okay, I understand. I’m sorry she got you, too.”
Yunho’s lips part in surprise, “She didn’t… Alright. What’s done is done, I guess.”
“Yeah,” You murmur airily, “And yes, I am with Jeon. Though I can’t seem to find him…”
“I’m happy to keep you company until you do.”
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Despite how well you and Yunho seem to hit it off (most of your time spent bitching about Sora), you can’t help but think of Jungkook. You quite miss him, not having seen him all night in the club. You want to dance with him, and little do you know that he’s been scouring the entire club for you in a frenzy once he ran into Mei and Mina and hadn’t seen you with them.
He had sent them a glare, his jaw clenched and walked away to find you. So when his eyes finally land on you at the bar, after about twenty-five minutes of searching and trying to get through strings of people around you, his heart soars. But he sees you laughing with someone else at the bar. With Yunho.
Jealousy is petty, he tells himself. But he struggles to keep it at bay as it rears its head and comforts him. He’s always been protective and possessive of those he loves and cherishes. You’re definitely no exception.
You wobble a little on your feet, but you hold your own. Even from here, he can see the drunkenness of your smile, beads of sweat as they race down your neck to hide in the valley of your breasts. He zeroes in on your necklace (his) around your neck and reminds himself. It’s his necklace that you’re wearing, after all.
Then why is the man who stood you up all those months ago making you laugh like that?
You must have a sixth sense or something for him, because you turn your head a bit as if you can sense him. Your entire face lights up when you see him, in a way that makes his tough heart swell in adoration.
You make your way over to him with your drink and peck his lips chastely, despite his desire to pull you into his arms and kiss you long enough that your knees buckle. So that Yunho sees that he is yours.
“You disappeared on me, baby,” Jungkook murmurs, adjusting your necklace. He’s gripping it tightly, but you don’t notice.
“I was with Yunho, remember him? ‘Member, he stood me up but he didn’t because it was Sora’s fault-”
“That’s no surprise,” Jungkook says, rolling his eyes. You take his hand, squeezing and introduce him to Yunho. As if he doesn’t know him already. Jungkook’s tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, his jaw clenched. He doesn’t like how Yunho looks at you, how his gaze lingers on your skin and the curves of your dress. You lean against Jungkook heavily, absently playing with his fingers. You stay mostly quiet, sipping your drink as the two men speak (rather tersely).
Jungkook knows he’s being ridiculous.
“Kook, finish my drink?” You murmur, offering him the glass. Jungkook maintains eye contact with Yunho as he downs the remainder of your drink in a few solid gulps.
“Was nice to see you, Yunho,” You say, “I think Jimin and Mina are looking for us, Jungkook. Enjoy the rest of your night.”
With that Jungkook firmly holds your waist, keeping you close to him. You both know that neither Jimin nor Mina are looking for either of you. You’d only wanted to be alone with Jungkook.
So Jungkook leads you to a spot where he knows Yunho can visibly see you both. You let loose, giggling as Jungkook twirls you easily and moving your arms to match the beat of the music. He makes you laugh with his moves, winking at you and shooting finger guns at you as he twirls and swivels around you. He’s always been a great dancer, you realize. That’s funny, because you’re sometimes clumsy on your own two feet. He pulls you into him, his chest to your back and his hips pressed against your ass. You sigh contentedly, head lolling against his shoulder and you rest your hand over his hand to let him lead you.
His nose is buried in your neck, lips lightly brushing your pulse. He bites your earlobe gently, earning a soft laugh from you. Jungkook tilts your jaw to the side to meet your eyes and plants a deep kiss to your glossy lips. He holds you steady when your knees weaken, your belly flipping at the intensity that he pours into you.
Jungkook is all around you, encasing you within his arms and there’s not a single place you’d rather be. When you pull away for air, you thumb away your gloss on his bottom lip and bite his bottom lip gently.
“I adore you,” You say dreamily, “You are so… Everything. Everything. I adore you.”
Jungkook’s cheeks burn, but he ducks his head for another sharp kiss. And if Yunho is watching him shove his tongue down your throat and holding your hips to his possessively then that’s fine by him.
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The journey back home is a quick one (after you both stop for fried noodles, despite the inevitable heartburn it’ll give you both the next day but you’re both so hungry). You both stumble into your home in a mess of giggles and groping, nearly falling to the floor due to your clumsiness.
Jungkook has been hard since he kissed you in the club, in front of Yunho. He knew Yunho had been watching, feeling the man’s eyes on you both the entire time. His jealousy has crawled back into the box that it was unleashed from, but he knows that’s something to revisit later.
Something else to revisit is that he liked that someone else was watching him with you. He stores that information for later, instead focusing on keeping you upright from falling.
Somehow, through your blurry vision and wobbly legs, you get on your knees and palm Jungkook’s cock through his pants. A shameless moan rips through you- any and every inch of him makes you dizzy with desire.
You like him so much that it nearly makes you cry.
“Gonna blow you now,” You announce happily, fumbling with the button of his jeans and using all of your concentration and strength to pull his pants down along with his boxers. You sloppily kiss your way down his chest, spending extra time on his tattoo and licking (then biting) his happy trail before humming around his leaking cock.
He’s so wet already, and it’s all because of you.
Jungkook groans, eyes closing in pleasure as your pretty mouth wraps around his cock. He thrusts lightly into your mouth, peeling his eyes open to watch you. Only to find you already staring up at him, your makeup smudged and tears already forming in your pretty eyes. He cradles your cheek affectionately, stroking your cheekbone-
But before he can compliment you, softly praise you, he hears a noise. It originates from the back of your throat, something both familiar and unfamiliar. You gag uncontrollably around his cock, and while it’s certainly not the first time it’s happened, it’s different this time. Because you’re a little drunk. So he should be unsurprised when you retch on his cock, pull yourself off of him before your drunk self can get any more vomit on his cock and sprint into your bathroom.
You manage to lock the door in your frenzy of utter humiliation and alcohol addled mind. You hover over the toilet bowl, the sounds of you throwing up bouncing off of the walls. You’re crying, sobbing more like it- from both the pain in your chest from vomiting violently into the toilet bowl coupled with the humiliation of quite literally throwing up on your boyfriend’s cock.
You groan and squeeze your eyes shut, as if that’ll erase the memory.
“Baby,” Jungkook calls softly, his cock fully hanging out in the open, “Baby, please open the door. It’s not a big deal, but I need to wash my dick off.”
You let out a choked, watery laugh at that and move to flush the toilet and rinse your mouth out. Your cheeks burn in embarrassment when you unlock your bathroom door, and you can’t bear to look Jungkook in the eye. But he holds your wrist to his when you try to escape into the safety of your bedroom.
Your heart feels like it’s going to beat right out of your chest, heat flooding your ears in shame. It feels like your head is empty, static filling up the spaces that the silence between you both doesn’t.
“It’s just me,” Jungkook coos, “Do you want to shower with me?”
“Jungkook, ‘m absolutely mortified,” You say flatly, voice a little high in pitch as fresh tears burning behind your eyelids, “I want to evaporate from this plane of existence in about three-point-four seconds, I literally threw up on your penis, I’m so sorry. Don’t even look at me-”
Jungkook winces at your tone and the way your shoulders are hunched, hands gripping the hem of your dress unsurely.
“Baby,” Jungkook sighs, “It’s really okay, there’s nothing to apologize for. Come shower. The vomit is drying on my dick-”
But that’s the wrong thing to say because you start to cry immediately, shoving your face in your hands. Jungkook sighs, mentally kicking himself and running a hand through his purple locks. He calls your name softly and pulls you into his arms for a tight hug, despite the drying vomit on his dick, which is hanging out and brushes against your hip. You sniffle, peeking at him with shy eyes and he rubs your back soothingly.
“When I say it’s okay, I mean it,” Jungkook murmurs into your hair, “I’m sorry I didn’t realize how drunk you were. I know you feel embarrassed, but it’s just me, baby.”
He kisses you, despite your protests, and helps you rinse your mouth again. You allow Jungkook to somehow maneuver you into the shower, peeling you out of your clothes. You feel grimy and sticky from the club and you’re grateful for the cool water against your skin. You stand behind Jungkook, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your face in between his shoulder blades, letting him wash himself.
“Can I wash you?” You whisper, voice unsure. You feel awful, cheeks burning but still. He nods and you take your body wash and lather him with it, washing his now limp dick gently and swallowing nervously.
“See? Not a big deal,” Jungkook says, coaxes you out of your nervousness, “Lemme wash you, baby.”
And so he does, taking your loofah and gently rubbing your skin. Under the cool spray of water, your nerves slip away with each giggle and kiss that he pulls and plants from your lips. Your eyes are still a little shy, a little slick with alcohol. But it’s just Jungkook, and you’re safe with him.
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Jungkook nearly wrestles you to get you to eat something more, after throwing up the remainder of your guts after you both had showered (it was mainly just water and alcohol at this point). You’re nearly falling asleep on his shoulder but he manages to shake you awake for a slice of leftover noodles and two glasses of water. But eventually, he coaxes you into eating with a few kisses, hugs, and shoulder rubs.
Once you both are in bed, Jungkook wraps himself around you, his hands immediately drifting below your sleep shirt to your belly. Your cheeks burn as the events of the night replay in your mind’s eye and you press your face into your pillow with a groan.
“I can’t believe I threw up on your dick a-and you’re so nice a-about it,” You mumble, “You really are everything.”
“Well, what else am I going to do if the girl I like vomits on my dick,” Jungkook murmurs, “Don’t worry about it, baby. It happens.”
“To who? Only to me,” You say sadly, “I drank too much. I’m sorry, Kook-”
“Shhh,” Jungkook says, tightening his arms around you and kissing your forehead, “I promise it’s okay. I promise I’m not looking at you any differently.”
His words make you relax in his hold and you nod. Jungkook tilts your jaw towards him, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You don’t say anything else after that, only allowing your soft, breathy sighs to spill out of your lips and into him with every comforting kiss and every slip of his tongue in your mouth.
He tells you to rest in between kisses, but your eyes are already closed.
**************************************
MOM TAGS: @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria @kaepjjangiya @drumsofheaven @ppeachyttae @tae-bebe @yiyi4657 @mygscafe @beeeetsandskzreads @maichiverse @hordanhearsawhooo @anonymous2505 @dreadity @mysugarkoo @ultraanonymousey @moonchild1 @fan-ati--c @yeotan07
TAGS: @kookdbean @codeinebelle
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tea-and-spoons · 2 years
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Today’s Tips: Brain Fog
Brain fog is that experience a lot of us spoonies have where your thinking feels, well, foggy!  More specifically, it can include any or all of the following:
Trouble focusing
Memory problems- like general forgetfulness, not being able to recall information for school, or walking into the kitchen and not remembering why you’re there.  Basically anything memory related
This is also technically part of memory, but difficulties often show up with word finding in particular.  That’s when you know what you’re thinking of, but you can’t quite recall the word for it.
Thinking more slowly than usual and needing more time to process things
Being more distractible
Not being able to multitask
Not being as tuned in to your environment, and missing things that are going on around you (like someone walking in, or a sign on the door)
Getting confused more easily and/or more often
Trouble learning new things
Feeling overall spaced out or numb
Feeling like you can’t think clearly or your mind isn’t sharp
Mentally challenging tasks taking more energy than usual
Having a hard time with organization and time management  
And probably even more cognitive things that I didn’t think of!
Brain fog is often caused by pain, fatigue, stress, or something inherent about your condition.  It’s pretty common with chronic illness, but if you notice rapid changes for no apparent reason, don’t be afraid to get it checked out.  A lot of the things that can cause brain fog are easy to catch on a blood test, and can then be treated.  But for when brain fog is just part of the fun (sarcasm) that comes with your chronic illness, here are some ways to help cope:
-Try not to let the people who don’t understand get to you too much.  Your struggles are valid!
-If people are being understanding, it can help to be honest with them about where you’re at that day.  For example, if you can show up to class and just absorb some information, but don’t have the mental energy to answer questions, that’s okay!  If your teachers are decent, you should be able to let them know this, so you can avoid getting put on the spot, and participate in whatever way works best for you.  
-Find a system that works for you to keep track of everything (appointments, due dates, reminders, chores, etc) and stick with it!  When you can’t consistently rely on your brain to remember things, it’s really important to have external reminders to keep you on track.  I have a big giant paper calendar, but you can also use your phone, sticky notes, setting alarms, having buddy to help, or anything else that works for you.  I’m sure there’s some cool apps out there for this as well.  The reason I say stick with it is because if you can get your system established as a habit, that’s one less thing you have to consciously remember.
-Going along with my last point, it really helps to figure out what gets your attention.  That’s one of the things that can really make or break your reminder system.  For example, if you’re going to quickly get used to a sticky note and stop noticing it, maybe notifications on your phone will work better.  In high school, I had a whiteboard calendar on the back of the basement door.  That way, I could not leave for school without seeing it and remembering to check if I had what I needed for the day.  If there was something really important, I would tape a strip of paper around my wrist, because that would really bug me, and keep reminding me to do the thing.  These are just ideas, the key to this is whatever YOU are going to consistently notice.
-Tagging along with a friend’s routine and/or asking them to check in with you can help keep you on track.  When you can’t seem to get started or figure out what to do next, having someone you can follow can be really helpful.  I think this is related to the idea of “body doubling”, but I’m not an expert on that.  That’s another strategy you could try though!
-If there’s something important you need to remember to bring with you, put it in the way so you can’t move on without it.  Like, in the middle of the doorway.  For some people, this also works for things you need to remember to do.  Like if you’re lying in bed at night and think “Oh, I need to remember to water my plants tomorrow!”, toss something in the middle of the floor.  So then when you wake up and go, “why is my water bottle over there??” it might jog your memory.
-Prioritize!  Sometimes you don’t have the capacity to do it all, and that’s okay.  If you just have to pick one thing to get done today, then that’s what you do.  Putting your to-do list in order of priority can also help with deciding where to start and what to do next, because goodness knows decision making with brain fog is hard.
-Have a good-to option for when you just can’t make a decision.  This one was my wonderful therapist’s idea!  I have a really hard time deciding what to have for lunch, and that can wind up delaying lunch by an hour and creating a really frustrated Tea.  So my therapist said, when that happens, just go to cereal, because we know that will be available and good enough.  At least for me, it’s like having a magic escape from getting stuck trying to decide.  I feel like this could also work for deciding what to wear?  And probably lots of other things I didn’t even think of!
-When you can, plan challenging events for the time of day when you feel the best.  If you can predict when you’re going to be extra tired and foggy, you can try to schedule around that too.
-Seek out formal accommodations at school or work.  This can provide you with supports like having a note taker in class, extensions on assignments, having classes and meeting recorded so you can review later, extra time on exams, and access to tutoring.  This process can be tricky, but if these things sound helpful to you, it may be worth a try.  I have a couple posts about accommodations if you go look at the “Links To All Posts” tab.
-Study when you can, even if it’s for 5 minutes, even if it’s at a really weird time.  And absorb what you can from class, even if it’s only a little, that’s okay.  It’s absolutely okay (good, actually!) to take time off and just rest when you need it.  What I’m saying is, if you feel okay overall but think it’s not worth going to class because your brain isn’t feeling 100%, it still might be worth it.  You can still pick up a few new pieces of information while you’re half-listening, and start getting familiar with what you need to learn.  This all adds up to less studying you need to do later, and makes it easier to learn new material.  This strategy really saved me when I was a full time student AND taking lots of Benadryl.  I would try not to stress about taking notes or understanding, and just absorb what I could.  If this doesn’t work for you, that’s totally okay (actually, that goes for everything I say in this post!)
-If you take prescription medications, put them on auto-refill, so you don’t have to worry about running out.  
-You can also usually sign up for reminder emails/texts/phone calls from your pharmacy, and doctor’s offices, and therapists.
-It’s okay to get creative when you can’t find a word!  You can describe it, talk around it, or leave a blank if you’re writing (and then highlight it so you remember to come back later!)
-My overall theory is, if I know I’m forgetting something but can’t remember what, there will be another reminder later if it’s something really important.  It’s not the end of the world if you’re a little late or disorganized, and having a chronic illness is hard enough, so go easy on yourself, okay?
As always, feel free to add your own tips onto these posts!
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bonny-kookoo · 3 years
Text
Rabbit Boy | JJK x Reader | 🔞
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Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader
Wordcount: 10.3k (Long)
Genre: Romance, Friends/strangers to lovers, Smut, BDSM because I'm making that a genre now
Tags/Warnings: BDSM themes (please I'm begging you stop reading my shit if it makes you uncumfortable), mentions of restrainment, light shibari, edging, orgasm denial (very mild), Subspace, Domspace because yes thats a thing, Dom/sub dynamics, Biting, Oral (m and f receiving), riding, and not the horseback kind if you know what I mean, protected sex yes, we love an organized household, there's just so much sweet filth istg
Summary: Jungkook is wild, untamed, and doesn't really commit to anyone for long. But maybe, you're his only exception in this world. Maybe, you're really that perfect partner he's been looking for.
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Jungkook likes to think of himself as an artist.
Sure, if people knew exactly what the young man does in his freetime (or as a side job, don't judge, we all want to make money out of our hobbies stop lying to yourself), they would surely look at him differently.
But he's an artist, nonetheless.
Technically, Jungkook also doesn't need to do what he does simply for the money. No, his main job pays very well- considering that he's one of the top elite in his genre of games. He doesn't just merely play and win a game; Jungkook, just like most things he touches, claims complete ownership of the match he's fighting. It's a well known fact that he's someone who likes things for himself. He loves control, craves to lead, and hates to be belittled.
Oh and yeah- financially, investing in an indie-game three years back had also done his bank account some good.
Now, at an age where he can be fully considered a man, and not a boy anymore, he craves control in different aspects of life- and love.
Jungkook has a problem however.
He's wild.
Not in the way one might think he is (although several people could argue that yes, that's also the case in bed..) but generally. He loves to control- but he hates to be tied down.
And a mindset like that doesn't work well with relationships.
He's had them before, don't get him wrong. He's had numerous in the past, but they all either broke apart because he would hold that particular desire back, making him antsy and moody, or he would welcome his partners into his world, and become uncomfortable with the way things would progress.
No, he doesn't want to experiment. He knows exactly what he wants, and if that means he's 'close-minded' and a bad person, then so be it for him.
He never liked the constant company in his apartment anyways.
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"Ah, I've seen her before. She's usually a regular for Yoongi though." Taehyung says, checking a name for Jungkook, who's doodling on a napkin while he waits for his new appointment to show up. "I see. I forgot that Yoongi took some days off recently- that's probably why she's now under your hand." He explains, and Jungkook huffs, his blonde hair tickling his cheek.
"So I'll have to adjust? I mean, Yoongi's style is pretty different from mine." The young man says, not looking up. He simply continues his little sketch of braided hair, while the lanky guy behind the counter clicks away on his laptop.
"Probably? I can't check the logs since they're private, but from what I know Yoongi only did the usual with her." he explains, shrugging as he looks at his friend and colleague. "I can re-schedule her to Hoseok if you want?" He asks, and Jungkook, after finishing his drawing, lets the pen fall and stretches.
"Yeah, that would probably be best. Wouldn't know what to do if she drops- rather not have him rip my head off, thanks." He says, before he gets up.
"Ah- you're still coming over tonight right? Y/N said she's gonna cook for us." He says, and Jungkooks body shivers a little.
Your name is nothing new to him, but the reaction to it most certainly was. You're a friend of Yoongi and Hoseok, having joined in on their gaming nights a few months ago after Yoongi had insisted you couldn't stay alone on a christmas day. Jungkook had never really asked why you were alone in the first place, but he had never really cared much for it either. Sure, you were an absolute gem to look at; technically absolutely his type, but he had early on decided not to pursue anything at all with you. He knew friendship wouldn't stay friendship with you, his own hunger way too large to simply be satiated by platonic gestures-
and he was also sure you wouldn't be able to handle him, truly. The conversation with Jimin, one of your best friends, had changed nothing about that. Because he didn't know you well enough to quite know if you were only bark and no bite- or if you were genuinely craving the same things he did.
But most recently, there had been a change in his opinion on you. Because he had seen you, come out of this place, out of Yoongis studio.
You knew about all of this- and you were still around.
Nothing had changed.
Now, of course he had instantly poked holes into the poor guy about if he had ever played with you before- and the answer he had gotten, had made him even more interested and antsy to get closer to you.
Because while you trusted Yoongi with everything you had, he had never done anything with you. You had simply been interested in watching a scene unfold- and had told him that you were definitely interested in participating. The reason Jungkook couldn't ask you directly was a clear one-
You were majorly intimidated by him, to the point of, he had never really had a proper conversation with you. Partially, he had to admit, because he himself didn't want to involve himself too much with you.
He’d always asked himself; wouldn’t you be even more distant and reserved with him if you knew this side of him? Sure, you always joked around that he probably tied his girls up and edged them until they cried- but did you know that he genuinely enjoyed these things?
Relationships for him were mere covers to call the arrangements he had with the girls that came and went in his life in a constant changing matter. Deep down, no one night stand could satisfy his most carnal desires, and he was very well aware of that. But he rather took what he could get and lived a fever dream for a few moments than stay on his own simply because his idea of pleasure and sex was not the norm.
No, he refused to deny himself that.
Maybe it was because he’d always lived a rather lavish life- with his parents well off and his own career skyrocketing he never really had any worries like you have had in the past. For some odd reason, while looking at the soft red rope in his hands, his thoughts suddenly went astray; he knew he could give you the stability you oh so craved, in every way shape and form. You were a diamond simply waiting to be perfected- you had so much potential, knowing that you were secretly wandering around the same paths as he did made him even more frustrated.
The hints were there, they were obvious; from the way you had sighed out in bliss when he’d teasingly pulled your hair just hours ago, to the sinful confessions he’d heard that night when he overheard you and jimin by accident. Of course he’d maybe wasted a thought or two of you underneath him to humor him once or twice- but now with the rope in his hands, his mind immediately began painting pictures of it against your skin. Would you enjoy it? And what if he took your sight, or only bound your hands? What if he denied you to cum, or if he took you from behind, grabbing your hair and pushing down your spine to make it arch so prettily- never with the intend to hurt, of course. He knew he’d have to tame you first, make you submit, but then again, he loved the challenge.
You made even the idea of touching fun.
He wouldn't even have to undress you to fully get himself worked up, he was sure of that. Only seeing you bow to his very command would be enough to satisfy him. Of course, over the course of time he would lead you deeper and deeper into his rabbit hole, but he would take it slow for you.
So, with a smile, and a wave of his hand, he walked past the girl he knew had been his appointment- grinning at Taehyung. "Of course I'll be there."
He wouldn't dare miss a night with you.
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You were stressing. A little.
Maybe.
Maybe a lot.
Everything would've been fine if they guys would've all come over. But due to the bad weather, and Taehyungs bad habit of never properly fixing his god-forsaken dumpster of a car, only one of them would be able to make it. And of course the one had to be Jeon Jungkook.
Just great.
Now, it wasn't like you didn't like the guy, no way. The problem was more, that he was on the exact opposite of that spectrum. You had a major crush on him, which felt like the plot to a really bad drama show you would watch drunk at night- and in a way, it really felt like one too. Because you were pretty sure, he didn't even know your name.
But oh well- apparently he knew more than that. More specifically, your phone number. And it had scared the shit out of you at first to receive a message from him because how the hell did he get your number, but then again you remembered that one of your connections was Kim Taehyung- and everyone knew what he knew.
It was the doorbell that ripped you out of your skin almost.
You didn't even change, deciding any effort would be too late anyways; and you were still heavily confused in the first place why the fuck he would come over alone, even though you two had never exchanged much more than a friendly hello and goodbye. But there he was, as you opened the door- soft, white hoodie and ripped jeans, a bit damp from the rain outside as you let him inside.
He didn't move.
"Uh-" You started, but he just looked at you, friendly as ever, although a teasing glint in his eye made you frown a bit.
He thought it was cute.
"You didn't tell me to come in." He said, and you blinked once, twice, before your brain had properly restarted.
"Oh uh- come in?" You said, again, moving a bit to the side so he could walk in- which he still didn't. "Jungkook come on now its fucking cold-!" You whined, and he laughed, finally stepping inside. Had he always been like that? Could very well be the case, after all, you had never truly paid much attention to his behavior before.
"Thanks for letting me come over." He said, and you watched him as he untied his boots. "I had nothing else to do- and also, I didn't want you to waste any food, considering Tae said you cooked for us." He explained, before he got up again from his half kneeling position, boots now standing next to your significantly smaller shoes.
"Ah, it would've been fine, you guys don't have to feel bad." You waved off, smiling. "I was about to stop cooking anyways when Jimin had texted me, but well, then you did and uhm.." You drifted off, noticing how you were suddenly waiting for him to lead the way.
In your own apartment.
What the hell?
If he noticed however, he didn't show it. He simply smiled, and moved his hands inside the front pocket of his hoodie. "Ah, thanks. I appreciate it, really." He said, and you smiled at him as well, walking towards the main area of your apartment. It was small, very small compared to his own, but he enjoyed the feeling of it. Everything around him reminded him of you, in a way; from the pictures taped to the walls, to the stickers on your fridge. It all held a piece of you in it. "Your apartment is really nice, by the way." He commented, and you turned around, before getting plates and cutlery to bring inside the living room.
"Ah, right, it's your first time here." You said. "Thanks- the living room is right around the corner there, you can just sit down and I'll bring everything there." You explained, and he smiled, nodding without arguing.
You liked that.
Typically, there would've been this awkward 'oh no let me help you', but Jungkook didn't seem to dwell on it much, letting you do your thing instead of butting in and making things weird. He simply walked where you had directed him, sitting down on the couch as he went to place a blanket to the side. His fingers moved over the fabric for a moment, noticing how everything on the couch, including the pillows, were made of that same, soft material.
Interesting.
"Oh- you can just put that to the side, sorry I forgot to clean that up." You said, putting the food onto the table as he just smiles again. He waits for you to sit down as well before you turn up the TV volume a little, nerves finally setting in as you notice there's almost nothing you can talk to him about. "This is awkward." You comment, and he chuckles at that swallowing his bite as he looks at you.
"Doesn't have to be." He states, before he turns his body a bit more into your direction; a visible sign that he wants a conversation. "Tae has never mentioned what you do for a living." He states, an unasked question of his. He lets you decide if you want to take it as one or leave it as a statement- it makes you feel nice, in a way.
"Ah uh.. it's really boring, so I guess I never really talk about it either.." You say, and he tilts his head a little, a silent urging for you to continue. You feel insignificant next o him and his job however. He's superior to you in any way, and you don't want him to feel pity or laugh at you for your job. "I uh.. I'm a programmer for a.. pretty unknown game studio." You say, body almost shrinking in on itself as you wait for his reaction. Much to your surprise however, he makes a sound that's purely surprise, as he swallows his bite with a bit of urgency.
"Fuck really?! That's so cool though!" He argues, brows furrowed a bit as he playfully accuses you with his next words. "Indie or not, a programmer is the main force of any game. Did you work on any games I might know of?" He asks, eyes sparkling as he realizes he had finally found something to bond with you over.
"Uh.. 'Rabbit Boy' was our best hit until now.." You say, still a bit shy, but you're also a tad more confident now. His reaction is either well-staged, or he's genuinely interested in what you do.
"I played it I think. It was a bit short, but I loved the mechanics." He says, and before he can quite stop himself, his hand has already reached out to you, running over your hair as he praises you like second nature. "Wuah, so smart!" He says, before he gets a reaction he wouldn't have thought he'd get from shy-you.
Because you playfully shove him, your socked feet pushed against the side of his thigh as you giggle at him.
Interesting, again.
Now, Jimin has actually told him about this before. How you were anything but the shy girl when you were around people you knew and trusted. He had believed it- to an extend- because he had also thought that maybe you were like that to prove your spot between those guys. As the only girl, you easily got thrown under the bus, so you had to somehow own your spot in the midst of your circle of friends.
However, it seemed like you were truly just a brat, hiding behind that innocent facade of yours. A barking dog, with every intent to bite if needed.
And Jungkook knew, he'd love to tame you, show you your spot, and make you his prey.
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The trashy movie your watching bores you, in a way. Jungkook has noticed this already, having taken note of your feet wiggling around, your teeth nibbling on the inside of your cheek, as you rest your cheek on your hand, elbow resting on the side of the couch.
“I don’t know why she’s so hesitant.” You mutter, pouting as you slump into the couch- uncaring that the side of your body now leans against his own. He feels your warmth- and for some reason it brings him comfort to notice that you’re seemingly growing more at ease. “I mean, it’s what she’s into, right?” You say, brows furrowed as you watch the screen.
“It’s not that simple.” Jungkook explains, trying to not make it obvious that he’s not necessarily talking about the movie. “Some men like to you know.. fight for a partner. Impress them. Win them over.” He explains, and he can feel you shift a little- until your head raises a bit, watching him as he watches you; gazes locked, and you can’t look away. You’re shy, you’re growing restless, but his eyes are like magnets; there’s no way you can avert your gaze.
“And.. you?” You ask, voice not loud at all, as if you don’t even notice you’re saying it. He loves that- loves the fact that you’re slowly letting him closer- not only physically.
“I like to earn my spot in their lives.” He states, and your mind suddenly begins to spin. You’ve always seen him as someone who doesn’t care much about emotions or feelings, or relationships for that matter. And maybe he doesn’t- maybe he just says this because he knows your weak spots. But the way his words fall into your ears makes you believe him. “I like to see my partner thrive; I love to see them grow. And..” he says, boldly deciding to slowly reach out his hand that was placed on the back of the couch- his fingers running through your hair, only brushing through, never pulling (no matter how much you’re craving it secretly). “I love to see them let go.” He humms out, and there’s a sudden shiver down your back, one that he definitely notices.
This is it. This is where you’ll let him touch you, let him wreck you, let him ruin you. You lean in closer, and so does he, but just when your lips are about to touch, he smiles gently- a warm affectionate gesture that you’ve never seen from him. And with it being directed at you, it’s even more meaningful- but it’s all about his next move, the way his inked fingers trace your cheek, before he speaks.
“You’re not ready yet.”
And with that, he turns back to the TV.
You huff, and it's the first time you know exactly what you're doing. You knew from Yoongi what Jungkook did in his freetime- you knew that this stuff was his expertise. Defeated, you looked down towards your knees, as your thoughts start to grow more and more frustrated. He probably didn't even see you like that, having only visited you out of pity, and not because he wanted to see you.
You were probably already friendzoned, and he was too nice to outright say it into your face. It made your emotions turn sour as the situation grew more and more awkward for you.
"What're you thinking about?" He asks, and you don't answer. What was there to say anyways? You really didn't want to have this weird conversation where he would tell you that oh yeah you're a nice girl, but he's not the right guy, the usual stuff you've already heard time and time again. "Y/N." He says, his voice dropping a little, but you only chew on the inside of your cheek again, eyes moving towards the TV screen. You didn't want to talk- you just hoped he would now sigh and get up, leaving so you could forget about all of this. You could maybe fake being sick for the next week or so to avoid him, yeah, that would be enough time to gloss over this entire situation. But he only clicks his tongue, hands suddenly moving your legs as he moves your body to face him.
Looking at his face is your first mistake.
His eyes are dark and almost angry, irritated as he looks as you. His jaw is clenched, and his hands stay on your knees for a moment, before he's sure enough that he has your attention. Only then does he speak, his voice nowhere near as soft and light as it had been before. "I know what you're thinking, and I don't like it." He says, and that's when you make your second mistake.
"Can we not right now? You don't know shit." You say, and he stares you down for a moment, until his head tilts a slight bit, eyes growing predatory as the corners of his lips tilt upwards. It resembles a small smile, yes, but it's not meant to be one. No, the first thing you have to think about is a wolf snarling at you, ready to put his packmate into their place for acting out.
It makes your spine tingle.
"Hm, maybe, but we can be classy about it, no?" He asks, and you scoff, trying to move your legs away from him, as he scans you.
At this point, he can see clearly that you're testing him.
So he gets up promptly, moving you around so you're standing in front of him. His inked hand finds your hair, gripping without mercy as he pulls your head back, your gaze now forced to stay on his as he calmly speaks. "You think I'm not into you like that- and you're as wrong as you could ever get." He says, biting his tongue as to not let a petname slip. He'd love to use them, but he knows that it's not yet time. That would be foul play, in a way; he doesn't want to seduce you.
He wants to make you understand.
"Trust me when I say I'd love to just throw you over my legs to spank that attitude out of you right now." He explains, and you whine- not in pain, but simply as a reaction to his confession. "But you don't know what you're getting yourself into." He continues, and pulls a bit to interrupt your next words. You know that you can get free any second you want to- but for some reason, there's no urge to do so. "You think of this as some game to play, you think of yourself as someone who can take all of it at once, but you don't even get the simplest and most important things about this entire thing." You swallow, as you stay still, finally giving up your fight as he relaxes the grip he still has on you. "Even now, it's not me controlling this situation. Its you." He says, letting go of you as his hands rest on your cheeks, eyes searching for any clues of discomfort. Only when he finds none, does he continue. "I will only ever have as much control over you as you're willing to give to me." He smiles again, this time, warm and comforting. "If you're really willing to do this, we will do this right. You'll have to trust me first, and I'll have to get to know you fully first, before anything else happens. Understood?" He asks.
And you nod.
"Do you know what you just agreed to?" He chuckles, and, shyly, you shake your head.
"See?" He grins, breaking skincontact with you. "You're not ready yet."
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His brows furrow when he sees you sitting on the counter, Taehyung talking to you. "What're you doing here?" He asks, and you pout, as Taehyung moves away, not wanting to get involved into anything this time. "Stop that face. We talked about this last week, why're you here now?" He asks, and you tilt your head innocently.
"Maybe I'm here for Yoongi?" You say, and his eyes grow darker for a second, before he composes himself.
"Good try, but he's still off work." He states, and you deflate a bit.
"I just.. wanted to see, I guess." You say, and he smiles a bit impishly.
"Oh? I mean, I have a scene in twenty minutes.." He asks, and internally, you cringe. No, you don't want to see him screw or even touch another woman in the ways you secretly want him to touch you instead. No, you're technically here to maybe talk him into show you at least a little bit. But it doesn't seem like he'll cave in anytime soon, so you sigh out.
"Okay, okay, I'll see you around, I guess." You say, hopping down from the counter before you take a step towards the exit.
"Ah well, I'll drive you home then." He states, and you grow confused as he leans against the counter. "Seeing as my scheduled appointment wants to leave, I have time off." He states, and you skin tingles. "Come on now, before I change my mind." He states, as he walks you outside again, leading you towards his car.
"I didn't mean to turn up so.. I don't know. Sorry." You said, and he gets into the drivers seat, shaking his head.
"I can understand you, trust me." He says, as he starts the engine and drives off. "If you're okay with it, I'd like to get something from my apartment, and then drive to yours." He says, and you tilt your head.
"Why not to the studio, or your place?" You ask, and he nods.
"While those are places I feel comfortable, they're unfamiliar to you. It's best if we start in a place that's comforting and gives you a sense of security." He states, and you nod.
Jungkook, in your eyes, never really seemed as mature as he's acting in those moments. It's as if he switches every time you two change topics; any time this particular one comes up, his mood changing into a serious one. Now, you're not stupid, you know the risks- and of course you had somewhat done your research online about the damages that could occur during all of this. And there's also the not too little chance it really isn't something for you after all- and in a way, that scares you. Because you want jungkook, but what if you don't want.. this?
Instead of voicing that out, you simply keep quiet as he gets out the car, and inside again after fetching what looks like an overnight bag. "You're staying over?" You ask, and he simply throws it on to the backseat.
"Maybe. We'll see." He says, and you don't question him as he drives. "Let's get something to eat. What're you craving?" He asks, as he keeps his attention on the road. He notices how you seem to think, already able to practically see the gears turning inside your head. "Don't think about what I could want. I asked what you want." He says, calmly, and so soft, that you simply let your words out.
"Tae usually get's me food.." You start, and Jungkook nods, as if understanding. You watch him smile a little.
"Let's get some junk food and eat it in the car." He simply states, and you nod, happy that he seemingly really did get what you were trying to say. For you, things like these were almost like rituals- like you and tae getting random icecream just to hurry home every time to not have it melt.
Maybe this would become a memory only for you and Jungkook.
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"You're nervous." Jungkook says, speaking out what's obvious. You don't know what he'll do, you're confused whats in his bag- you're nervous, just like he said. "Why is that?" He asks, casually sitting on your bed with you. He had earlier told you not to panic-clean it; he was not there to be impressed. He was simply a visitor for now, nothing more, nothing less. You shrugged. There were a lot of reasons you were nervous. "If you want this to work, I need to have proper communication with you. Guessing will get me nowhere." He says, but his voice is not upset. He's simply informing you.
"I.. don't know what you'll do?" You say, and He smiles, sitting more comfortably, as he shows you his open hands.
"I'm not gonna do anything for the moment." He tells you, and you shrug.
"But wasn't that the plan?" You ask him.
"What would you want me to do then?" He asks instead, not answering your question. He's testing you, he want's to know if you really are aware of everything. He's also not only asking you about what you want him to do to you- but with you, as well. He was unsure if you wanted to romantically involve yourself with him, or simply explore something new at his side.
He's afraid he'd be okay with either, just because its you.
"Are you going to tie me up?" You ask, and Jungkook grins, before he laughs. You're growing shy, unsure, and he instantly makes sure you know he's simply laughing about what you said, not about you. His hand holds yours- and it's weirdly reassuring.
"No, although I can imagine you looking very pretty in that position." He says. "No, come here." He says, lays down on the bed, and you stay where you are, with reasonable distance between you two. "I want you to come as close to me as you feel comfortable. Don't force it- take your time. I'm not expecting anything, please remember that." He tells you calmly, not looking at you to give you mental distance from him as well. His eyes are actually closed, his body relaxed.
You don't move for a moment. You want to test how long he can really play this patient role- but after around five or ten minutes, he's still not moving. He's not even saying anything, and you're unsure if he's asleep or not.
There's only one way to find out.
You carefully lay down a little away from him, on your side, simply looking at him. It's weird to see him like that; you've always imagined him to be a very dominant and demanding person, from what you've heard and seen of him. But Jungkook doesn't feel like any of the guys you've been with; he also doesn't feel like Taehyung, or Yoongi, or Hoseok.. Jungkook, weirdly enough, feels comfortable. He's relaxed, and laid back, and still has that slight glint of power over you.
You move closer, your curiosity getting the best of you as scenes and pictures of him holding you fill your head. Is he even a cuddler? You can't imagine him being all soft and sweet for gestures like that, but then again, you didn't really think you'd ever be in a situation like this either. Maybe you were judging a book by its cover.
He smells nice- that's one of the first things you notice once you get closer. One of his arms is stretched out to the side- his tattooes visible, but partially hidden by his sweater sleeve. You want to look at them, so you test the waters- by touching his arm, just a small poke with your finger. You can see the corners of his lips twitch; he's definitely awake. You move his arm a little, inside facing you as you get a detailed look at his artworks. They're detailed, they fit him, the dark Ink a stark contrast to his skin.
His sweater seems soft.
You slowly lay down again, your head resting on his biceps as you simply lay for a moment.
This is nice.
You feel more and more bold with every minute that passes, not even minding the way he sometimes moves around. You're growing at ease, so much so, that you simply throw all hesitation out of the window, and cuddle up to him. one of your hands is on his chest, while your head rests ontop of the inside of his shoulder.
This is really nice.
"Are you falling asleep?" He asks, voice not loud at all, as his arm moves, palm resting on your forearm as he holds you. You don't mind it- you feel relaxed enough to really actually do fall asleep- so you nod. "That's good." He tells you.
"But didn't you bring stuff to try?" you ask, and Jungkook nods.
"We got time. A small nap is always a good idea." He tells you, and you simply nod- making him smile.
He's glad.
Because by falling asleep on him like that, you don't even know how much you've complimented him at all. You're relaxed enough around him, comfortable enough to let him close to you in a vulnerable state such as sleep. It makes him wonder how far you'd let him go- would you let anyone get so close so quickly? A sudden rush of protectiveness curses through his body, fills him up, as he swears he can't let you go now. No, what if someone else gets you like this? What if someone takes advantage of your open mind like that? He doesn't even want to imagine.
Jungkook really has it bad.
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You slowly wake up to a bit of weight on your face. "jungkook what're you doing?" you giggle, and he chuckles as well as he takes the hand away from over your eyes. He looks well rested, with his eyes still not fully open.
"Nothing." He says. "Just teasing." He says, but of course, nothing he does is just random teasing. Everything he does is calculated- it's to test you, to study you, to make sure he gets to know you. "Are you hungry?" He asks instead.
"Not for food."
He has to let that process for a moment, until he laughs. He's really got it with you, he thinks, as he suddenly moves, eyes dark, while he's now ontop of you, his hands holding your wrists. Expecting you to look surprised, he finds none of that however. It intrigues him, the way you don't seem to be nervous or fearful at all. It makes him wonder what you'd really do to him if he was to advance in ways he wanted to. "Careful, sweetheart." He says, and your eyes sparkle with a silent challenge.
"Or what?"
His grip gets a bit tighter at that, eyes a bit darker. "Someone's eager." He says lowly. "Don't you think you're biting off more than you can chew right now?" He asks, before he clicks his tongue, slowly falling into his own headspace. He knows however not to let himself slip. "Give me a random word." He asks, demands, and you say whatever finds your mind in that moment.
"Bunny." You say.
He raises his eyebrow for a second, but doesn't question it. "I want you to say that, loud and clear, as soon as you feel uncomfortable." He lectures you seriously. "It doesn't matter what it is. Physically, or mentally, or if you simply don't want me to continue because. I need you to tell me that you will say it." His gaze is intense, and you nod. "I promise you; I'll never get mad, or upset, or angry, or disappointed with you. My ego isn't worth your safety." He humms out at the end, and your eyes soften.
He notices it instantly, and it affects him more than he'd like to admit.
"I promise I'll say it if I need to." You tell him, and he grows comfortable again.
"Can I touch you?" He asks, softly, and you nod, before verbally answering him with a yes. "Remember; I'll only ever have as much power and control over you as you will give me." He mumbles, head now dipped down to ghost his lips over the skin of your neck. "But once you give it to me-" He says, his knee situating itself in between your legs to spread them in a silent command. "-I won't give it back." He growls, before he bites down, releasing the skin after hearing your delicate mewl, kissing the spot as if to apologize.
He's not sorry.
"Let me ask you.." He says, feeling you rut against his leg that's pressed against your center. "what do you really want from me?" He asks, and you open your eyes, movements slowly coming to a halt as you notice the way he looks at you.
He almost looks uncertain.
"I.." You want him. You know that- you want all of his bad habits and weird quirks. You want to get to know him and everything that comes with it. Hell, he was the main reason you even got into the entire scene in the first place. "You." You say, deciding its best to practice honesty.
"Me?" He asks, genuinely a little confused.
You nod. "Yeah. You." You say. It's a little weird, the whole situation, but you don't mind it. Your hands slowly slip out of his grasp, before they instead intertwine their fingers with his. He feels weirdly caught off guard by the gesture- his past encounters and relationships never having included things like these. So much so, that Jungkook genuinely believed those things to be simple movie-gestures. Overdone, and not realistic. "Like uhm.. if you want to. If you just want to, you know, I.. guess I'd be okay with that too-" You say, looking away, as Jungkook answers.
"I want you too." He answers, eyes searching yours for any glimmer of dishonesty. But he doesn't find it- there is none. There's just you. "I really want you too." He murmurs out, getting closer, before he lets himself loose, his lips finding yours.
He's never been a fan of kissing, but he can very much already imagine kissing you for hours.
Its not just you letting go in that moment, its him too.
Because unbeknownst to you, he's not just opening you a door to his world of unspoken fantasies-
He's also opening his heart as well.
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Your first time together is slow and comfortable.
It happens just a day after you had both decided to pursue an actual relationship with one another. He's gentle, careful, but not hesitant. He's exploring.
Inside of his head, he notes down every noise and every twitch of muscle. You sigh as he eats you out, the small ponytail of his unable to hold onto all of his hair as his eyes are partially hidden behind the blonde strands. He's watching you, his fingers having already stretched you out, but then he sits up. You whine, with him having stolen your release for a second time. "Let's play a little, yeah?" He says with an amused yet calm tone. You're already unable to do much about your position; your wrists bound to your bed over your head, carefully tied knots comfortable against your skin, as long as you don't pull. "Legs open." He calls out as you try and close them, and you whine again; testing his patience as you still go ahead and disobey his command. He watches, moves forward, before he pulls them apart again. "You want to cum, no?" He asks, and you nod, frustratedly so. "I wonder what made you think you've earned that reward from me." He tells you, eyes scanning your form as you pull on your restraints a little. He's not fully into his own headspace yet- he's still very much on high alert to notice any signs of discomfort coming from you.
He has to learn just as much as you do.
"You're lucky you're so sweet." He says, before he crawls closer again, his hand on your center, as he enters you with two fingers. Its not enough, but then his thumb draws circles on your clit- and you're approaching, quickly. "Hm? Won't you cum?" And then you say it.
"Can I?"
It's so desperate, so needy, so submissive, that it sends a chill down his spine. He moves closer, kisses your neck, as he can't help but let the rush of it get to him. He is, after all, just as desperate for release. No matter if its his, or yours.
"Such a good girl, of course you can." He tells you. "What a sweet one, such good manners.." He teases playfully, and you tug at your restraints as you come undone under his hands. He unties your wrists and you're holding onto him as soon as you're free, and he lets you hold onto him in your post orgasmic bliss.
Its after a moment that you realize it.
"Wait-" You say, sitting up to look at him. "You- I mean, you didn't get to-" You start, but Jungkook waves it off.
"Its fine, really." He tells you, and you know he's serious. "I'll just wait until it goes down, or take care of it in your bathroom if thats okay with you." He says, patting the side next to him to lay down on. "Come here." He asks, and you comply, before you speak again.
"You.." You start, not looking at him. "Could just take care of it here." You say. "Or I could.." you start, and he looks at you.
"Do you want that, or do you only feel like you have to?" He asks, and you shrug. You take some time, before you answer.
You've seen most of Jungkook until now. From his strong arms, his back, his inked skin, to his thighs and legs. You have seen all- but that. And you've never really considered giving anything back in that way to anyone because of one single embarrassing moment- but with Jungkook, for some reason, you wanted to try.
"I want to." You say, and he nods. "But I don't know how.." You say, and he smiles reassuringly.
"I'll guide you." He tells you, before he scans your face. He's never really felt that desired- at least not in the way he does in that moment with you. "You can take it out for starters." He says, and you nod, before you hesitate a little.
Jungkook is nice, when it comes to that. He's patient, always lets you do the pacing for now, until you trust him enough. This is only the start, after all. You stay cuddled up to his side, but your hand ventures towards his sweats, where you can see his prominent erection still waiting. Slowly, you push the fabric down, both his sweats and boxers underneath- his hips lifting a bit to make it easier for you, until he's freed from his clothes.
You've never really thought much about looks when it came to that department, but Jungkook was, in each and every way, highly attractive. Now you knew, that there was literally nothing about him you didn't desire.
Your first touches are a little hesitant, testing the waters, and Jungkook tries not to react too much to it to give you time. Its when you start to move your hand however, that he closes his eyes, head now completely resting on the pillows beneath as he just decides to enjoy what you might give him. His hips twitch upwards a little after you'd run your thumb over the head, precum glistening while your hand uses it as lubricant to move more smoothly.
He sighs out.
And you grow bold at that, moving to sit up and escape out of his embrace, before you dip down to feed your curiosity. As your tongue touches his skin, his muscles contract, the action not expected since he didn't look what you were doing. You've been told once before that you're not.. the best at this- but Jungkook made you want to try. If you would've looked, you would've spotted the intense stare that Jungkook had been sending your way; mesmerized by the way you tucked your hair behind your ear oh so sweetly, before you let a drop of saliva escape from between your lips, taking him in soon after it had dropped onto his awaiting length.
You really were something else.
He'd gotten head time and time before, and it was never something he didn't like- but he'd also rarely ever cared that much emotionally about the person giving it to him. It's weird, how an emotional connection can make you so much more sensitive to things- such as in that moment, as your tongue moved over his skin while inside your warm mouth, lips heavenly on his cock.
He couldn't imagine what it would be like to be inside you.
There's nothing he could teach you, nothing he could tell you to do, as you moved, sucked and licked. He was breathing heavily already, his hand finding yours as you hold onto it. He sits up, can't help it, has to somehow touch you while you're not letting go of your task. His palm escapes your hand, rests on your head instead, runs through your hair before it grips a little. You moan, vibrations making him throw his head back as he groans out, feeling his end coming closer. "If you don't want to swallow, let go." He grits out, but you suck harder instead, and its when your hand finds his balls that he lets himself fall back onto the mattress beneath, shooting his load into your mouth as you swallow it down.
He's on cloud nine.
You're thoughtful enough to pull his underwear and pants back up, laying on your stomach next to him, waiting, watching, with impish eyes. He looks so radiant, so relaxed, so at ease. It fills you with a weird sense of pride; since in a way, its your doing. "Why did you tell me you don't know how to do that." He comments, rather than asks, slowly calming his breathing back down. His eyes open, hand pushing some hair out of your face. "Thank you. That was amazing." He says, and you shrug.
"Thanks for the compliment." You say, looking at him.
"I have a request." He says, and you nod. "Not like that." He teases, making you blush. "No, but seriously." Jungkook knows that you've been with other people before. It scares him to know that some of your experiences might not have been good- he knows some absolute horror stories Taehyung had told him. "I want you to take all that you've experienced with your former partners.. all those moments, emotions, bad memories, all of it." He tells you, hand now resting on your cheek- a gesture in which you lean into. "And throw them away. Forget them." He tells you.
"This is a new start, for both of us."
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"How many clients have you been with?" You ask, casually sitting on the kitchen counter as Jungkook washes the dishes. Its your first night in his apartment, and you're more comfortable than you thought you'd be.
"None." He tells you, and you're ready to snort out a laugh, but he doesn't look at all like he's joking. Seeing your confusion, he continues while scrubbing a plate. "None of us actually have sex with our clients. Some only come to talk, really- others come to let go." He explains, and you nod. "I've never touched, nor been with someone intimately during a scene." He tells you.
"So you had scenes with your partners then?" You ask, and he shrugs.
"In the beginning, yeah." He admits, shrugging. "But I eventually gave up on it. It's not something a lot of people find very appealing. It all looks great in theory, but when practiced, most find its not for them." Draining the sink, he dries his hands on the dish towel, before putting it in its proper place.
"Could you.. imagine a relationship without it?" You ask, and he sighs, shaking his head.
"Not really." He looks at you after a moment. "Its who I am, and its how I love. I can't change that." He tells you, and you nod. Its understandable really, and you like that he has clear lines he likes to follow. It's weirdly comforting to know that he has his life so under control- its all you've ever wanted really.
It's something Jungkook might be able to give you.
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It was weird, the feeling of the rope against your skin. He’d been right about it earlier; it wasn’t rough or itchy at all. But maybe that was just because it was him doing it. Maybe he was simply fogging up your senses.
It would make sense.
“Okay?” He humms out, voice gentle and calm while he stops his hands for a moment, palm on your shoulder where it warms up your skin. You’re unsure what okay really means- okay like, he’s finished? Or is he asking if you’re okay? Or is he asking for permission? “Speak to me- don’t just think.” He says, eyes watching you in such a manner that made your slightly trembling body calm down.
“I’m not sure what- what you mean by, okay.” You say, and he smiles, eyes roaming over your body for a moment, but surprisingly not in a way that would make you feel exposed. You’re almost naked, after all- only your most private parts hidden from his sight. You can see the very evident tent in his pants; but he doesn’t seem like he’s frustrated or fazed about it.
“Good Job telling me.” He says first and foremost, and you start to feel warm inside. “I was asking if you were okay. Do you remember your colors?” He asks, and you nod, before verbally answering him with a ‘yes’. He nods again, a hand running over your head, fingers running through your hair affectionately. “Good. I’ll finish the last knots now- remember you can stop at any time. Don’t hesitate.” He says, and you nod.
He grabs the rope again; the tiny fact that he’d chosen one in your favorite color making you feel.. well, you didn’t know. You could feel your nose sting, before it shot into your eyes, making them water; something that Jungkook immediately noticed. “Color?” He asks, and you shake your head.
“Green, Green, I’m okay-“ you say, but you can’t stop the tears. He’s quick to sit down in front of you after tying the last knot- and it’s the first time you quietly look at them. They’re so delicate, so well done, but there’s no time to dwell on it as he lifts you chin gently.
“Talk to me.” He says, hands on your shoulders to give you some sense of stability. You’re safe, you don’t feel bad, but just..
“I don’t know. There’s so much-“ you begin, and he softly smiles, as if you’re not currently completely bound with no chance of proper movement. You take a deep breath, holding it before you release again, silently following the advices he’d given you prior. “Why do I feel so.. comfortable? I feel safe even though I’m in such a dangerous situation- I’m.. this is weird isn’t it, I should be.. I don’t know. Why’re you not doing anything? Wasn’t this supposed to be like, a sex session or something I don’t get it-“ you babble, and he lets you, before he speaks.
“You still don’t quite get it, do you?” He asks, and your glistening eyes stare up at him. “I don’t need something as simple as sex to feel satisfied.” He explains, and you nod, even though you don't quite understand. "I feel euphoric right now, even though you probably won't quite believe me." He says, his smile evident as his fingers trace the knots on your skin. It's there that you see it; the glimmer in his eyes, something you've never seen before with someone else. "The fact that you let me do this, it's all I need." He humms out. He looks at you, a silent question, and you take a deep breath.
You don't quite know what you're doing. Its weird- but seeing him like that makes you feel weightless. It happens slowly, you don't quite grasp what it is, but the feeling is nice. It's like letting go- like standing on the highest platform of the universe and just jumping down. And when you open your eyes, all you see is him.
He can't take his eyes off of you.
He's seen it often enough to spot it, knows what it looks like, but it still holds such a deep meaning to him to see you fall into your subspace for the very first time. You're so beautiful like that, so ethereal and enchanting as you lean forward to get closer to him. He's careful you dont accidentally hurt yourself with the big scissors on the bed close by- emergency equipment to release you asap if needed.
He knows escape is the furthest thing on your mind right now.
Able to do anything he'd want with you, he's not like that however. He's responsible enough to let you float for a moment, before he speaks to you again. "Baby?" He asks, and you nod, nuzzling his shoulder as he holds you close. "You're doing so good. Can you do something for me baby?" He questions again, and you nod, not parting from him however before he talks again. "Can you sit straight for a moment? Just like that, good girl." He praises as you instantly follow his command. "I got you, okay? I got you, you're safe." He repeats, as he slowly unties your body. It's careful reassuring and slow movements that make it possible to untie you- too quickly could make you drop; a state of sudden shift in mental state, that could send you straight into distress. Jungkook doesn't ever want to be the cause of that for you.
You're underneath him, and he's careful, as he undresses after placing the scissors onto the bedside table where it cant lead to any accidents. He also reaches inside the table, pulling out a condom from a box safely stored, before he gets himself ready.
Not even for a second is his attention not on you however.
"Hands up baby." He commands, and you do as he wants, already squirming as he advances towards you, fingers stretching you out as you grow huffy at the prospect of being edged again. He's quick to catch on though. "Hm, I'm not gonna be mean baby." He tells your fuzzy mind. "But I gotta get you ready, no?" Fingers steadily helping you relax, he waits until he deems you ready.
You struggle to keep your hands up as he enters you, but your mind is adamant on keeping his command. He groans out, kisses your neck, as he slowly begins to move lazily. It's enough for pleasure- but not enough to make you cum. "Good fucking girl. Look at you. My baby." He chants, and something inside you stirs at the last words.
His Baby.
You're his.
He wants you.
It makes you whine as he chuckles, nipping at your skin. "You can touch me baby, good job." He says, and your hands are instantly around his neck. You're mumbling something, but its not words. It's not coming out the way you think it does, and Jungkook doesn't mind, doesn't care. Its another one of those things fueling him up, urging him on.
You're his perfect puzzle piece.
He lets go.
"Turn around princess." He says breathless, and you follow his instructions eagerly. His hand rests on the back of your neck for a moment, leaves its place for a second to move your hair away from your face, before he gently pushes down. He's inside in a heartbeat, this time thrusting with more strength.
Something overcomes him that hasn't happened before.
Usually, this position is what he loves most- and yet, it's not what he wants. He wants you, he wants you close, he cant touch you enough. His arms snake around your torso, just underneath the bottom of your breasts, as he pulls you towards him. Your back arches so prettily, and he gasps out, breathing heavy as he continues his attack on your neck. "You're mine." He growls out, can't keep it inside anymore, his grip on you tightening. "Mine." His thrusts stutter, his hand reaches for your center, desperate fingers helping you find your release. It coats your thighs, stains the bed, and he pushes himself as deep as he can once he finishes himself.
He's breathing heavily, he's out of his mind, running on autopilot as his hands still hold you. He pulls out after a moment, a whine from you getting reassured by his own voice, before he leaves the bed, getting a warm damp washcloth ready for you. He's careful, gentle, seems to caress your skin more than clean it, places kisses every now and then and sends praises your way.
"How do you feel?" He asks, voice low and caring as he continues his aftercare.
"Like you love me a lot." You sleepily say, eyes still foggy, and he smiles.
"Good." He tells you, reaching out to kiss your lips, still high on his own afterglow. "That's how you're always supposed to feel like."
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"I've quit." He tells you one night on the couch, as you sit close to him. You'd asked him about his sidejob at Yoongi's- and this was his answer. Instantly, you sit up straight, fearing that he might've felt obligated because of you. "Before you start, yes, it was because of you." He says, and you already have the whine in your throat- but it doesn't make it out, as his fingers lazily trace your collarbone peaking out from his shirt you're wearing. "But it was also my decision. I just didn't enjoy it anymore- and you're more I could ever want really." He says, shrugging as you stare at him.
It was still new to you.
Although you knew that he was probably more than just a wild loverboy collecting partners and gaming all day, you never would've thought of him like this. He's a kid at heart still, teasing and playfighting every now and then- but he's mostly a strong shoulder to lean on for you. He really is the security and safety you'd always searched for. "What're you thinking about?" He asks, pulling you closer as he continues watching the TV show.
"You." You say, and he chuckles.
"Cute." He answers. He looks at you for a moment, TV long forgotten, before you crawl over his lap, shirt rising enough to give him free view of your thighs and panties. You've skipped the pants tonight- a habit of yours he enjoys a lot. His palms instantly find the soft skin, running along the outside of your thighs before they find your behind, squeezing, before he slaps it playfully. He grins as you squeal, admiring the way the very tips of your ears turn red. "You're really precious, you know that?" He tells you, and you shrug. "You are." He confirms, and you smile shyly.
"May I kiss you?" You ask, and he smiles warmly.
"We're not in a scene baby, do as you wish." He tells you, and you nod, leaning forward to capture his lips with yours. Its a feeling you can't quite get enough of, and it seems like he enjoys it equally as much. His inked hands find their way underneath your shirt, running over your back and spine as you shudder. He doesn't find what he seeks, your underwear long gone and left in the bedroom, and he loves it, instantly moves to your chest where he finds the soft flesh, his thumb running over one of your nipples teasingly. You're arching your back already, moving around as if you can't sit still. "My baby." He mumbles out, "If you can be so kind and get me a condom, you can ride me if you want to." He tells you, and you nod.
By now you easily know your way around his apartment.
So its no wonder you quickly return from your now shared bedroom, condom in hand as you approach him again, settling onto his lap. You're not shy with him nor his body anymore, eagerly taking the condom out of the package for him to roll it down onto his length. "You good?" He asks, and you nod, pulling your panties aside as you slowly sink down on him.
He lets his head rest back on the couch, and you lean into him, for a change returning the favor of kissing his neck. He's grinning, throughoutly enjoying things, and you love watching him. It's a visual reminder to yourself that this is your doing. You're making him feel that way, and no one else. It makes you confident, and it makes you feel cherished in ways you haven't felt before.
Once you start to move, Jungkooks hands help you along. Its slow and lazy, not at all hurried. There's no real goal; you probably wouldn't even mind not cumming at all. This was just being close- a way of feeling connected in the most intimate of ways. Connected like only lovers could be.
You love him.
And it slips out as a tiny 'I love you' in between your sighs and gasps, and he hears it so clearly, he can't help himself but speed up the pace.
"I love you too." He chants out, kissing the side of your head as you rest against his chest, head on his shoulder. "I love you so much." He says, almost inaudible, his arms holding you as close as he can.
Jeon Jungkook doesn't need sex to feel satisfied.
But he will most certainly need you for now and forever.
And he's totally fine with that.
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(c)Bonny-Kookoo. You know the drill. I know where you live. I don't. But still. Be scared. Boo.
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660 notes · View notes
theroomofreq · 3 years
Note
can you give me muggle jily recs pleaaseeee <3 :D
HOW MANY HIGH-QUALITY MUGGLE JILY FICS ARE THERE?? TOO MANY TO COUNT. *cracks knuckles* BUT I am here for the challenge. Jily AUs are my JAM.
Again, shoutout to our amazing @jilyarchive friends who tag every wonderful muggle jily au they come across. here is the link that will take you to their tags page. You'll find links to specific tropes and AUs :')
I've searched through my own AO3 bookmarks and history tabs, and I present to you 28 jily muggle fics that I LOVE. I am THRILLED thinking about all the good things in store for those that read these wonderful stories. This list took me ages to make because I went through and reread most of these brilliant fics. Happy reading !! xx
properly improper by @lizardcookie
“Marry me,” Mr. Potter repeats, closing the distance between them by striding back up towards the sofa, only to stop and crouch to one knee right there at her feet, looking up at her. Burning. “Pick me,” he elaborates. “Pick me, choose me, love me instead.”
- this fic is the reason why I comment the way that I do (spoiler it's because it's amazing)
The Wedding Ring by @mppmaraudergirl
What is undeniably worse than attending your sister's wedding looking as desolate and forgotten as a wilted houseplant? Drunkenly ringing your ex-boyfriend and asking him to be your date.
- SOBS UNCONTROLLABLY AT THE PERFECTION
Oh my god, they were ROOMMATES by @magic-girl-in-a-muggle-world
Silly one-shot, Muggle AU with Fem!Jily as pining roommates and Marlene as their matchmaker.
- the fic that brought me back to jily and inspired my deep obsession of fem!jily
Swipe Right, Swing Left by @downn-in-flames
The unspoken rule of using dating apps in D.C. is that you always start with where you work.
James Potter, it seems, never picked up on that one.
- giddy just thinking about this gem
'Tis the Damn Season by @petalstofish
It doesn't feel like Christmas for Lily Evans, not after losing her parents to COVID before the Holiday season. She anticipates spending Christmas all alone until a boy from her past shows up and offers her a mutually benefiting deal that has her calling him 'babe' just for the weekend. 'Tis the damn season, after all.
- cries in respect for lyrical writing
Watch Me Unwind by @maraudersftw
Lily Evans hates her job, hates the bigoted customers she has to serve as a bartender at the richest club in the city. But the one person who makes bearing all of it worth it has someone else in his arms tonight. (Rated: M)
- obsessed with the way the plot jumps around the time line in this
oil be there for you by @abby10fanfic
Texting/Social Media AU: Lily and James haven't spoken for 2 years. But that's all about to change thanks to Peter and his involvement in an essential oil pyramid scheme. Featuring boss babes, toxin-free lifestyles, binding contracts, and a very oily journey.
- YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE HOW FAB THIS IS
a matchmaking mission by @downn-in-flames
James Potter has a mission: get Sirius Black and Remus Lupin to finally admit that they both fancy the pants off each other by Valentine's Day.
His partner in crime? Lily Evans, Remus' flatmate, who he also happens to be slightly in love with
- DOUBLE the amount of pining idiots in love :")
about time by @jilyss
'sure, yeah, I can accompany you to that black tie event for your work tonight. wait. why are we on a red carpet?'
- this is my emotional comfort fic, your honor
whiskey business by @elanev91
Sirius Black has a (bad?) habit of picking up hobbies that take over his and James' flat -- this most recent one? Homemade vodka that James now has to try and peddle to everyone in the building.
- hysterical! must read!
Fashion Disaster by @maraudersftw
James Potter is roped into an awful dare by his best-mate, which involves him wearing atrocious pieces of clothing for all days until Christmas as dictated by Sirius. If this wasn't terrible enough, he now has to contend with his maddening crush on the beautiful saleswoman at the clothing store.
- classic hijinks that I live for
it wasn't a pity invite by @elanev91
Part of the December "Winter Tropes" Jily challenge. Prompt: my family invites you to join our holiday meal as an obvious setup and omG i’m so sorry
- awkward Christmas date that owns my heart
spice and honey by @clare-with-no-i
tagging along with her food reporter sister to profile James Potter, London's hottest young chef, is not how Lily Evans pictured her Monday going - especially if he's anything like Petunia’s described.
needless to say, she's in for a whirlwind at Chez Maraudeur.
- I'm one re-read away from printing this out and putting it on my bookshelf.
Waffle Wars by @elanev91
There's only one waffle maker in the dining hall and it literally always breaks. So, naturally, the only reasonable course of action is to meticulously map out when it's working and, ultimately, do a heist.
- the witty narration in this fic can not be matched
You Can Hear It In The Silence by @alrightginger
Lily is non-verbal and deaf in a world where the things your soulmate says about you end up written on your skin. She has known about her soulmate since she was seven, but knows they don't have a clue she exists and possibly never will.
- exquisite, cue me sobbing forever
out the window by @displayheartcode
A new family moves to Ottery St Catchpole.
- everything I could ever want in a fic, forever in my mind rent free
The Christmas Guest by @thegodmachine
An Evans Family Christmas: Petunia is bringing her fiancé and Lily is bringing her…Friend…
- petunia pov that gives me WINGS
Football, Calculus, and Cappuccinos by @moonawrites
At eighteen years old, James Potter has a lot going on. He's a rising star navigating the politics of professional football, the pitfalls of sudden fame, the fallout from choosing his dream over his father's company... and a serious crush on the red headed new barista at his favourite coffee shop.
- I'm still working my way through this fic, but trust me when I say its a GEM
if u like pina coladas by @zephyrcove
Lily is desperate for a date to Petunia's wedding, James has been pining, and their friends meddle ;)
- explain to me how characters can be so perfect via texting fics?
Shelf Awareness by @ghostofbambifanfiction
It's too far out of her way and she's wasting so much money, but Lily can't help but return to the bookstore every weekend, where her passion for good literature has, perhaps, been unexpectedly reignited by the messy-haired, pun-making, rather handsome bloke who works there.
- you absolutely must know that I binge read this and then immediately REREAD it
How to win a witch in 10 days by @adenei
“She’s going to find some unsuspecting wizard, get him to fall for her, and then do all the things that turn men away to get him to break things off! Won’t it be the best way to see what witches do that drives men crazy?” But what happens when the man in question is a blast from Lily Evans's past? A Jily Magical AU based on the romantic comedy "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days."
- fic based off of a rom com? YES PLZ :’)
The Fight Before Christmas by @ghostofbambifanfiction
The heartwarming Christmas tale of Lily Evans and James Potter - two plucky kids who hated one other, until the day they really, really didn't.
- complete sucker for this one
All This Time by @thejilyship
James and Lily grew up next door to one another. Their bedroom windows giving them glimpses into the others life, and also offering prime opportunities to argue with each other over every little thing. They never figured out how to be friends when they were kids, but now that they've graduated from college and are home for the summer, they have a second chance to get things right.
- one of my favvvv tropes
Let Me Love You by @thejilyship
With only a month until she's set to take the throne of Gryffindor, Lily is informed that she'll have to get married or choose to give up her throne. She never thought she'd have to even entertain the idea of an arranged marriage. Enter, James Potter.
- cries in princess diares AU
The Fabulous Baker Brothers by @frustratedpoetwrites
Lily walks a different route home from work and stumbles upon a cute little Bakery with an even cuter baker in the window.
- yes yes yes to embarrassed pining.
Marigold Mornings by @mppmaraudergirl
This is a fun game she thinks, as she removes her hand from his side and reaches up to run it down his chest.  He catches her hand in his own, takes a step forward so that her nose nearly brushes against his shirt. She can feel the heat radiating off of him—or maybe it’s from her. He licks his lips and her eyes are drawn to the motion.  She knows it is a bad idea, absolutely knows it.
- incredible storytelling featuring dynamic characters :') a favvv
Welcome to Pettyville by@women-inthe-sequel @alrightginger
When Lily Evans accidentally sends a text to the wrong number, she isn’t expecting to find the right person behind it. She can’t stop talking to Prongs. The only thing is, Prongs can’t stop talking about the girl in his class. What could go wrong, other than the number?
- LOVE SQUARE ANYONE
The Kiss a Stranger Project by @alrightginger
“What’s your name, then?” she asks, realizing they haven’t even properly introduced themselves yet. She nervously crosses her arms.
You shouldn’t kiss a guy without knowing his name first.
Right?
- THIS ONE WILL LIVE IN MY MIND FOREVER
226 notes · View notes
the-witty-pen-name · 3 years
Text
Deadbeat Pt. 1
Lee Bodecker x F!Reader
18+ ONLY
Warnings: age gap (reader is 21), smut/masturbation (implied/mild), cursing, abandonment, infatuation, alcohol, cheating, violence?, mild housewife kink? 
Word Count: 4.3k
Summary: You work at the bar at the edge of town, the Sheriff is going through a divorce and needs to rent a room. 
A/N: I’m terrible at writing summaries and I’m so sorry about that! I don’t think I would consider this a dark!fic, but it does cover a lot of themes, and topics that are darker than I usually write about- but I think that comes with the territory of writing about Lee Bodecker. I’ll make sure to update the warnings for each chapter and do not read if you are underage. I also ignored canon for this one.
There are no tags on this one, because no one has specifically asked to be tagged on smut fics and I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable!
I hope you all enjoy!
Tags and Requests are OPEN
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“Get out of here Lee,” you spat, pointing to the door he just walked into the bar from. “You swore to Janie you wouldn’t touch a drop.” 
“C’mon (y/n),” he said sitting at the bar anyways, a smug grin on his face, making you scoff. 
“I ain’t having anything to do with you breaking your promise to that lovely woman,” you say confirming your point. You wipe your hands on the towel that was hanging from your apron. 
“Jack and coke?” He asks, looking at you with eyes that would be endearingly puppy dog if it weren’t Lee Bodecker. You shook your head. 
“A coke it is,” you say and he gives up trying for now. He regrets telling you on his last visit he’d be swearing off drinking cause Janie finally threatened to throw him out. 
You slide a glass bottle of Coca-Cola down the length of the bar to Lee and he grinds his teeth slightly. The sugar was always his temporary fix. You also sent down his way a small bowl of roasted peanuts, feeling bad for the mess of a man. 
“She’s gonna leave me anyways,” he grumbles and you shake your head, picking up on his attempts to illicit sympathy to coax you into giving him a drop of anything. 
“Stop giving her a reason to Lee,” you point out, gesturing with your hands to emphasize that he was in the same small bar on the edge of town he always wandered into on weeknights. He’d tell Janie he was on duty but he’d really be down in this little box of a building getting drunk as a stunk. 
“She’s the one who gone and cheated,” Lee said in an angry tone, not towards you, just at his situation. “That Miller fellow living a few miles down from me. I see his truck parked outside my house plenty of times to know he’s not just being neighborly.” 
“I’m sorry Lee,” you say with a genuine tone of sympathy. You felt for him and his pain. You knew the stress of the job he led and the pain of knowing the love of your life don’t love you. 
“She’s going to leave me,” he says, staring intently at the condensation on the bottle in front of him. “I’d been trying so hard for her and our marriage and she’s two timing with the neighbor when I’m out working.” 
“And the thing is I don’t even care if she cheated,” Lee continued, “I’d look the other way if I knew she’d be staying with me. But it’s cause I know she don’t love me anymore. That’s what’s hurting me most.” 
“Maybe y’all can work through this-“ 
“This was inevitable,” he says, cutting you off. You don’t point it out, cause he’s clearly distressed but normally you’d have no problem saying to Lee ‘Fuck you, let me finish Sheriff.’ 
“Do you got somebody?” Lee asks you. The question takes you back cause it wasn’t like the Sheriff to ask your about anything personal. He would come in, and you’d shoot the shit, exchange small talk, maybe some harmless flirting for a larger tip, but that was the extent of it. 
“No, not anymore,” you say, having recently broke things off with your boyfriend. “I was seeing Arvin Russell for a couple months, but we just broke it off.” 
“You’re too good for him anyways,” the sheriff scoffed at the mention of the Russell boy and took another swing from his bottle of pop. “How old are you anyways, sweetheart?” 
“Twenty-one,” you respond, not thinking too much about the nickname. He had a habit of frequently using names like that when he talked to the women in this town. You think it started out as a tactic to win re-election and then it just stuck. He nodded. 
“Yeah you two are around the same age,” he said, more so thinking out loud than it being a statement directed towards you. “Why’d you break it off?” 
“Beat up my brother,” you answered, “Granted, the little shit had it coming. Can’t blame Arvin after I heard how the asshole was bothering that sweet thing Lenora. But he just took it too far. Almost killed the kid. The boy saw red so I got myself out of the picture. You can’t be with a boy who does that to your kin.” 
Lee nodded understandingly. You didn’t interpret his actions or questions as genuine concern or interest in you, but that he was just asking you questions to distract from his marital woes. 
“I’d do so many things different if I could be your age again,” he chuckled in a self-deprecating tone. “I’d sure as hell love to turn back time and have myself go down a better path.” 
“It’s not just you, Sheriff,” you reply after collecting money another man sitting at the bar. You nod as a goodbye to the man, and then curse under your breath when he doesn’t tip you. “Asshole,” you mumble, tossing the few pennies into the tip jar. You walk back over to the sheriff and prop your elbows on the bar. “I’m sure everyone is this town wishes the same thing,” you say, trying to make him feel better. 
“I’d love to just be your age again,” he says with a sigh, and then pops a small handful of the peanuts in his mouth. “Young, got your whole life ahead of you.” 
“I’m not sure working in a place like this is setting me up for great things, Sheriff,” you chuckle moving to wipe the bar in the area where that other customer left. “A woman working as a bartender is equivalent to just being a whore according to the eyes of the Lord... at least in this town,” you laugh, using the towel from your apron to wipe the rings left behind on the countertop from the glasses. 
“Arvin didn’t think so,” Lee countered, trying to make you feel a little better about your position. “I don’t think so. Hell, people in this town are so uptight about things that aren’t their business. You’re young, you need a job and you have one. It’s that simple.” 
“I wish more people in this town thought that way,” you reply with a smile. “That new preacher last Sunday-“ 
“Don’t listen to that asshole,” the Sheriff scoffed, and chuckled when your eyes widened at his derogatory words towards the preacher. “He’s a showboating son of a bitch and he’s as phony as they come.” 
“Those ruffled shirts are the most pretentious thing I ever seen,” you say, letting out a big laugh thinking about when he is giving a sermon in what looks like tacky prom attire. 
“Pay him no mind,” Lee said, bringing the bottle to his grinning lips as he looked at you. “You’re a better person than he is.” 
“I appreciate the sentiment,” you chuckle. 
“Have a goodnight hunny,” another customer at the bar says dropping cash on the table as they leave. “Goodnight Sheriff,” the older man tips his hat and then walks out. 
“Have a goodnight Marvin,” you call after him, “Give my love to Loretta!” You clear the empty glass and drop the cash off in the register. 
While you’re moving around, Lee takes a moment to actually look at you. Any man with eyes knew you were pretty, but he ain’t never noticed before just how attractive you were. His eyes lingered for a moment at how the canvas waist apron extenuated your figure. He couldn’t believe this stunning young thing was stuck in a place like this with a dead end job talking to a deadbeat like him. 
“How long you staying for Sheriff?” You ask suddenly, pulling him out of his trance. 
“Uh, not sure,” he says, looking up at the dingy Luger Beer clock that hung on the wall. “Why sugar?” 
“Seeing as though your sober I was hoping I could trouble you for a ride home?” You ask shyly. 
“Of course,” he said without hesitation. “No trouble at all honey.”
“Thank you, Lee,” you say with a smile, making his heart skip a beat. 
He’d talk to you most weeknights and never had this feeling. Maybe he had but he was too wrapped up in his own troubles to notice it. You were such a sweet girl, and he realized what an injustice it truly was for you to be stuck here. 
The thought crossed his mind very quickly about if he wasn’t married- even though he knew divorce was coming around the corner any day now. If he had met you at a different time in his life if it would’ve been better. Instead of meeting you as an overweight, deadbeat of a sheriff which a drinking problem- he’d met you when he was fresh out of school, same age you are now. You all coulda fallen in love, started a family, and that would’ve been enough to keep him from taking up drinking in the first place. 
He knew from the beginning Janie ain’t ever loved him. Hell, he’s not sure if he ever loved her thinking back on the whole relationship. Lustful, without any sort of promise behind it and they both were users. They used each other. He knew he treated her poorly as poorly as she treated him. He definitely had loved her, that much he knew was true, but now she’s cheating- something Lee never thought of doing at all no matter how many fights they had until the early morning hours.  
As you maneuvered around behind the bar, locking up the liquor and wiping down the machines getting ready to lock up for the night, his mind played little tricks on him. The canvas apron was instead a pinafore, and the bar was his kitchen. He’d loved the sight, thinking about coming home to you instead of what was soon to just be an empty house. 
Hell, he wasn’t even sure if he’d even be the one to keep his house. The idea of finding a new house- buying one for you, and being able to start over sounded like a dream life. Hell, he’d run away from this town right now if you said the word. He’s sure he could secure an election in another town, he had the connections to make it happen. 
“I just got to lock up the office and I’ll be ready to go,” you say, untying your apron. He gulps and nods as confirmation. You disappear in the back room, cash drawer in your arms to lock away in the safe. He heads behind the bar to dispose of his empty bottle and the cardboard tray his peanuts were in. 
You come back, your peacoat buttoned and the sash tied around your waist in a bow you had made. You had a small handbag in one hand, and your work apron in the other. Suddenly, he was nervous and didn’t know how to carry himself around you. Undeniably, the Sheriff was developing a crush. He couldn’t shake the feeling. He wanted to ask you out on a proper date, but he knew with his age and reputation- it wouldn’t be fitting. He was moving way too fast in his own mind to keep up with. Just daydreams, he thought to himself, suppressing the thoughts of a future with you for now.
“Okay,” you said, giving the place one more once over to make sure it was all set. “That does it.”
“After you,” he said, holding the door open for you. You giggled, and once you both were outside, you used your key to lock the front door. He held the door open for you to take the passenger seat in the cruiser. As you buckled your seatbelt, he walked over to the driver’s side and then slide into his seat.
You were a little nervous. You weren’t sure why. This wasn’t the first time you’d asked for a ride home. Usually, it’s never this late. When you close, you usually walk home alone. You definitely didn’t live that far, but again that was more dangerous than getting a ride home.
You realized that you were worried about nothing. You thought maybe some would accuse you of something scandalous, getting a ride home from a man so late. However, this was the Sheriff and the streets didn’t have another car on it at all. The town knew where you worked and if anyone were to see you, they’d know you were closing shift and you asked for a ride to avoid walking home this late alone.
“Thank you again,” you said, starting up a conversation as the sheriff was backing out of the tiny lot that was next to the bar.
“Oh, don’t mention it, hun,” he said, “It’s my job to make sure you get home safe. Your house is the white one at the end of Birch?”
“The very one,” you say, looking out the window. There aren’t any street lights, and the only light for miles is coming from the headlights of the cruiser. You don’t catch Lee stealing glances at you as he starts moving forward.
“How’s your ma doing?” He asks, making conversation.
“Oh, she left,” you said nonchalantly, and it makes Lee’s eyebrow raise in confusion.
“Wait. What?” He asks looking over at you for a second before turning his eyes back to the road.
“Oh, I thought you would’ve heard,” you say softly, your façade of indifference torn down. “She left us about a month ago. Met a man from Columbus and moved in with him. The whole town was talking about it for weeks.”
“So, is it just you and Tommy now?” he asks, wondering what kind of a mother leaves her girl to take care of her high school aged brother on what she makes at the bar.
“Oh, he went with her,” you explain, “House is all mine. After the whole thing with Arvin, she decided to pull him out of school and he goes to school in Columbus now. She wasn’t gonna bring him but after that, she changed her mind.”
“They just left you?”
“I chose to stay.”
“No offense but why would the hell would you chose to do that?” he jokes, making you laugh a little.
“It’s all paid off, and my grandpa left it to me and not her anyways,” you explain. “House has been in my name for three years now. And if we sold the house, she’d just piss the money away. Besides, would you move back in your mother now, Sheriff?”
“No, I can’t say I would want to,” he chuckles.
“So, I’m just supporting myself and that ain’t too bad,” you shrug.
“Sounds lonely,” he comments and you nod in agreement.
“It can be,” you admit, as he turns down your street.
“You ain’t worried living alone?” He asks.
“You tell me, Sheriff,” you joke, “If I got something to worry about it sounds like you’re not doing your job.”
“Ouch,” he says and holds a hand clutching his hand to his heart dramatically. It made you laugh, and it made him smile that he made you laugh. God, he loved your laugh.
“Thank you again, Lee,” you say sincerely, quickly kissing his cheek when he parks in front of your house. The gesture takes him back, and he’s relieved you can’t see how red his face is. He’s almost angry at how flustered you make him and you have no idea. “Have a goodnight,” you say.
“Goodnight, (Y/N),” he says, a little shakily. You get out of the car, and he watches you walk up to the porch, your hips swaying naturally, and he bites his lip. He groans, but at his disappointment in himself for staring again. You disappear behind the front door and he hits his palm on the steering wheel, trying to shake whatever feeling this was.
He reluctantly drove home, not wanting to have to talk or see Janie. He knew he was just heading home to a fight for being out so late, even though he knows she takes full advantage having fucking Miller over. His jaw is locked, angry about a fight he hasn’t even had with her yet. His cheek still tingles from your touch, and he thinks about if he should just leave Janie. He could just leave, get an apartment nearby or something. He doesn’t even care if she gets the damn house. He’s bracing himself for another night of fighting as he pulls into his own driveway and heading up to his own house.
He fumbles with his keys in the dark. He thinks he had the right one, but it doesn’t work. He tries another that is the same shape, still doesn’t work. He intakes a sharp breath and tries the first key again- he’s positive that’s his house key. “Fucking Christ,” he mutters when the key won’t even go into the lock. “Janie!” he shouts, pounding on the front door. She changed the locks.
“Fuck,” he exclaims, stomping down the front steps and walking around to the back door. He tries his keys again with no luck. He pounds into the door hard and incredibly loud. He knows she’s there, upstairs in their bed, ignoring his knocks. He tries the kitchen window, but it’s locked. Every window on the first floor is fucking locked. He curses again and heads back to his cruiser. He slams the door shut and his grip on the wheel is turning his knuckles white. Does she expect him to sleep in his car in the driveway?
He doesn’t even think about where he’s going to go, but he knows damn sure he’s not going to give her the satisfaction of sleeping outside of his house in his cop car for the whole town to talk about. He just pulls out of his driveway and starts driving. He isn’t even thinking about what route he’s driving, it’s like he’s driving on autopilot while he screams out every curse word in existence.
By the time he calms down, he realizes he’s driving down Birch again. His muscles in his body tense, and he thinks back to your conversation when he dropped you off. Your mother and brother were gone, meaning you have two spare bedrooms. He knows he shouldn’t but the temptation is way too overwhelming. He has nowhere else to go. If someone saw his car… well, he’d worry about that tomorrow. Your house is two miles away from your nearest neighbor, settled back at the end of a long dirt road. Someone knowing he was there was unlikely. He had people who could save your name. It was all innocent. Janie kicked him out and he knew you had an extra room. Hell, he’d rent a room from you- Wait. That’s perfect. That solved all of his problems and yours. He knows you were downplaying how hard it must be to keep up with the house and by him paying rent, you could take care of the house. It was a win-win.
He felt so confident now and he was so proud of himself for devising this plan. He parked his car out front and then walked up to your front door, knocking gently. The sound of the knock made him now incredibly nervous. He didn’t want to scare you or for you to think he was trying to take advantage. Granted, there would be a lot more than financial benefits to being able to live with you, which he knew were selfish, but the idea of being able to see you everyday was overwhelming. It was the closest thing to the dream he was wrapped up in back at the bar. He could live out his little pretend domestic bliss, and you’d get the money you need for the house. He knew he was insane and this was probably wildly inappropriate, but he knew you were too kind to turn him away.
You opened the door with a small yawn, a yellow bathrobe secured over your nightgown fully, to keep yourself decent when you answered the door. You were going to call the Sheriff when you heard the rapping at your door so late and ignore the knocks, but looking out the window of your bedroom you saw it was Lee’s cruiser parked outside.
“Lee?” you ask quietly, sleepiness very evident on your mumbled voice.
“Janie kicked me out,” he said softly, “Changed the locks on me. Darling, I’m so sorry for intruding but I have no where else to go.”
“Come in,” you say sympathetically, the news waking you up quite a bit. “Lee, I’m so sorry. You can take my mom’s old room; it’s got an attached bathroom you can use too.”
 “Thank you (Y/N),” he says quietly. You close the door and secure the lock and the chain again as he looks around the house.
“Don’t worry about it,” you insist. “I can take you there. Follow me.”
You walk up the stairs, Lee following closely behind and he’s ashamed that he took the opportunity to just openly check you out again. At the top of the stairs there was a hallway lined with photographs in mismatched frames. You point to the door at the end of the hall.
“That’s the master,” you explain, “There’s a bathroom attached inside if you want to clean up or anything. There’re clothes in the dresser if you want pajamas- should be in the bottom drawer.”
“Okay, thank you,” he replies, looking down at you as you yawn again, and he notices how your hair is a little messy. The sight drives him wild.
“Anything in the kitchen is up for the taking to,” you offer.
“Look, (Y/N),” he says, “I know this isn’t the best time to be talking about this, but I really need a more permanent plan on where to go. I know it sounds crazy and out of the blue, but could I rent that room from you? Name your price. I figured… I really need a new place, and you could probably use another source of income to keep up with the house. Plus, it’s safer than living alone…”
“Um…,” you begin to speak, but you bit your lip, showing that you’re intently thinking about his offer. Everything he said was right. You needed the money, and he was right that living alone was dangerous in this town and living with the sheriff is the safest person there was in the whole town. People would talk, of course, but no one would deny that the circumstances were just ideal for the two of you and nothing more. You were an adult, a homeowner, and it was your business who you rented a room too. “Yeah, I think that makes sense for both of us,” you agree. “We’ll sort out the details tomorrow.”
“Of course,” he says with a smile.
“Alright, um,” you say crossing your arms around your chest awkwardly. “Goodnight, Lee.”
“Goodnight, (Y/N),” Lee responds as you head back into your own bedroom. He let’s out a heavy sigh and heads into your mom’s room- or rather his new room. He’d have to figure out how to get his stuff back from Janie tomorrow. He’d really just need his clothes and some other necessities. 
The room was fairly spacious. There was a closet and dresser. The closet still had some clothes of your mom’s left behind, and for the most part, the room looked fairly intact. It was like she up and left with just a few things. Lee shook his head, angry at how poorly you were treated by your mother. He pulls off his leather jacket, tossing it and his hat onto the bed. He opened up the bottom drawer of the dresser, and just like you said, it was filled with men’s clothing. He concluded they had to belong to the man your mom lived with now, more things just left behind.
He tosses a pair of plaid pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt onto the bed, and then he heads to the bathroom.
In the drawer beside the sink, he finds a new toothbrush still in its packaging, that he opens for himself and drops it in the white toothbrush holder on the counter. The towels are all clean and folded neatly on the shelf above the toilet. He finds a new soap under the sink as well, and decided he needed a shower to just wash off everything of tonight off in hopes he’ll feel better.
He strips of his uniform, folding it nicely knowing he’ll need to wear it all again tomorrow morning. He steps into the shower and turns on the water. The hot water just immediately helps him to loosen the muscles that had been so tense. He lets the warm water run down his face and back, just letting himself enjoy the feeling. He lathers up his body with soap and then it finally hits him that he was here, living with you, and then suddenly he’s hard.
“Fuck,” he mutters, resting his head against the shower wall, the running down his back. He was in so much trouble he realizes. As he beats himself off in the shower, his mind is clouded with thoughts of you. The way the apron at the bar looked around your hips, and the smell of your perfume when you leaned into him. The way your body looked as you paraded yourself around behind the bar. The way you have no problem talking back to him when he walks into the bar after saying he’s off the bottle the night before, just making want to shut you up with a rough kiss. The feeling of your lips on his cheek and he imagines your lips on his neck. He thinks about how your hair looked tousled when you just showed him to his room. He lets himself slip back into that same domestic daydream. You being his wife… married to you instead dealing with this goddamn divorce. The absolute sickening sweet domesticity making him groan, as he imagines his hand is yours. Why on earth did he think he’d be able to do this?
PART TWO
788 notes · View notes
folkloreguk · 3 years
Text
Moving Antics (M)
A/N: This was requested a while ago and I hope you will enjoy it! I always welcome feedback of any kind! Have a good day x
genre: smut, optional bias (m) x reader (f), oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, overstimulation (a tiny bit), dom!bias, very lowkey roleplaying??, reader wears a maid outfit (not in a degrading way)
words: ~ 5.4 k
tag list: @mochi-ficz (let me know if you wanna be tagged when I post new fics!)
People had told you over and over. Moving is a stressful, exhausting process. It would take a while for you to settle in. Until everything had found its perfect place, weeks could pass. At least that’s what everybody said. What they all failed to understand, though, was that being in love could make the most tiring experience fun. Was it stressful? Sometimes. Exhausting? Why don’t you ask yourself that, when you fell into bed like a walking corpse at night? But all it took was a glimpse at your boyfriend as he carried inside the box that said ‘anniversary gifts’ and it was all worth it. You were confident in one thing at least. In the settling in department you were both ranking foremost.
You had lived in the apartment for only a week, and you couldn’t have been more all-over-each-other. Somehow there seemed to be an unspoken challenge you had both taken on. Maybe you two could set a record for most surfaces in a flat someone could have sex on. Or perhaps you should have started marking the rooms and spaces you hadn’t been able to add to your list yet. There wouldn’t have been many left. At the moment, there was only one downside to being so head-over-heels in love. A lot of the boxes in the apartment had been left unattended, as if you only waited long enough, the things would start flying out of the cartons and miraculously sort themselves out while you could stay there, in bed with your lover between your legs.
But this wasn’t Hogwarts and you weren’t some magician. And so one rainy Saturday noon you decided it would be thatday. The day you finally put away all the things that were still in the boxes. Not that the day had been successful so far. It was 12 pm and you were in bed. The shower was running in the bathroom next door, and you wondered how you would convince your boyfriend and yourself that getting things done would be a worthwhile pastime. Telling yourself you would come up with a tactic with your eyes closed, you tricked yourself into daydreaming for a little while longer, cuddled in the blankets that still smelled like him.
When you heard footsteps approach, your mind snapped back to reality. He strut through the door like a nude model, searching for some clothes to wear. His smirk when he saw you eye him was prominent and made your stomach flip. It took every last will of yours to not ask him to come back into bed with you, forget all your earlier plans and live like you were the last people on earth.
“Do you want breakfast?” he asked, finishing his outfit by pulling a shirt over his head. “I’ll make you some.”
You hummed, starry-eyed at his perfection. “Thank you,” you said. Quickly, he kissed your forehead and then walked off, presumably in the direction of the kitchen. Twenty minutes later, at the kitchen table, you finally brought up your wonderful idea.
“I think we really should unpack some more stuff today,” you said, “Don’t you think?”
“You’re right,” he said, “We’ve really been procrastinating.”
“You can say that again,” you laughed.
“Although I wouldn’t describe our scientific research of the last few days as completely pointless.”
“Our what?” you asked. You were getting up to put away the plates of your late breakfast.
“Us testing which room of the house is the most fun to have sex in,” he stated, matter of fact. “I vote for the bathroom.”
“You just love the mirrors,” you grinned, and he mirrored it.
“I do,” he said. His arms snuck around your waist from behind. “Almost as much as I love you.”
“I love you too, babe,” you said, “You know, there’s one room we haven’t tried yet.”
“The office,” he said. You turned your head and you kissed him deeply. In agreement you hummed, your arms wrapping around him. He pulled you closer, hands ghosting over the back of your thighs and up to your hips. You felt like jumping onto the counter and having him there, again, just like you had done it two days ago. But then you remembered you had other projects for the day. If you gave in to him now, you’d end up back in bed for the rest of the day, probably. Guilt was already setting in at the mere thought.
“Wait,” you pulled away and said, “We have things to get done.”
His nod was dilatory but then he seemed to recall his own determination from around two minutes ago. You wished you could have motivated him otherwise, but you were already struggling to spur on yourself to be productive. Then, you suddenly remembered something. Your eyes must have widened in surprise because he furrowed his brows at you.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Stay here,” you announced, “I’ll make sure we get through with this today.”
And you were off to your bedroom. You pulled the box out from the far back of your closet. Memories flashed your mind, of when you and your boyfriend had been watching a show together. One of the characters had been wearing a provocative maid outfit, and you still thought about the way he had grinned at it, or how he had said he found it cute, which you believed translated to sexy, but he had been a little shy back then.
Long story short you bought one. And what better occasion to put it to use than now? You went all out, stockings and heels as well as your attempt at fixing your hair quickly, which you knew didn’t really matter, since you would want it out of the way if you were really going to be emptying boxes. You strut down the hall, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. The black and white costume just about covered your ass, and on your chest was a cutout in the shape of a cat’s head. The ruffles of the material bounced as you walked, excited to see your boyfriend’s reaction.
“Close your eyes!” you shouted. “No cheating!”
“I never cheat,” he said. You rolled your eyes, remembering his video game antics from the past.
“Before you say anything…this is supposed to be a motivation for us to empty the boxes. If we do that, we can have our reward,” you said.
“What reward?” he asked, eyes still shut.
“Open your eyes and you’ll know,” you said. Oh, how dearly you whished you could have captured his face on camera.
“Babe…,” he said. Then his mouth just stayed agape, as he ogled at you shamelessly. Just because he could. Because he was just thatlucky to have you.
“Do you like it?” you asked.
“Yes. Of course I do,” he said. His tone was emotionless because he was way too busy sorting out his own thoughts in his head. “But do you really think this is a good idea? How am I supposed to focus on anything but you?”
“We’ll figure it out,” you said. “Don’t you want to feel accomplished at the end of it all? If we don’t start working now, we’ll just end up feeling guilty. Again. Come on, let’s do this.”
“Alright,” he said. “Let me have one kiss.”
You laughed and granted him that one wish. His lips lingered on yours for a while. You knew he didn’t want to pull away. Neither did you. But at last, he had enough control to remove himself from you. It was the office that still needed the most work to be done. Cardboard boxes were piled on top of each other, labelled with some sort of theme or room of belonging on the outside. When you looked his way, he was only eyeing your legs. But then you grabbed the closest box to you and handed it to your boyfriend, and he snapped out of his trance.
Believe it or not, there were up- and downsides to the maid costume in this situation. The pros included feeling unnecessarily sexy whilst doing an unbelievably humane task, not getting too warm since you were already wearing little clothing and having your boyfriend virtually drooling over your appearance. The downsides were mostly reduced to one word: heels. Climbing a ladder and balancing three boxes on top of each other in your arms was an arduous task to begin with. Now add the possibility of twisting your ankle on the top step of a ladder and crashing to the floor, probably breaking your back or worse. You really couldn’t endanger the prospect of the fun you were planning on having later by taking that risk.
That’s why you chose to abandon the heels somewhere on the floor about half an hour into the process. And you came to the conclusion that finally getting over and done with what you had been procrastinating for the last week wasn’t all that bad. You were a whirlwind, running from room to room to make sure everything had its place. At some point he had turned some music on, and it was making everything even better. After all this time, you finally had your own place to decorate however you desired. As you admired how nicely things were coming together, you hummed to yourself quietly.
You weren’t sure whether he was having as much fun as you were. Especially not when you walked past him in the doorframe, carrying four pillows. Your ass – maybe not all that accidentally – brushed against his front as you entered the room. Innocence and feigned ignorance were on your face but you noticed exactly the way his eyes dwelled on you for a little longer until he got back to work.
But everything you could do he could do just as well. Fifteen minutes later, you were occupied with stacking books onto a shelf. Wanting them to stand in a very specific order turned out to be more time-consuming than you had anticipated. You heard his steps behind you, assuming he was going to walk past you. Suddenly his lips brushed against your exposed neck.
“Remember this song?” he asked. You hadn’t been focused on the music for a while now, but of course you remembered. “Remember when I fucked you to the beat of this? Because I do.”
“Babe,” you said. There was a little part in your brain that had the glorious idea of him having you right there, against the bookshelf. You wouldn’t even need to remove your clothes. With him, it took nothing but a few magic words and you felt like giving him all of you. No. It’s not time for that yet. Your rationality vanquished that little avid thought and pushed it away, back into your unconscious where it had come from. It wasn’t gone yet, only not so urgent anymore.
“You’re right,” he said. “We’ll save that for later. Just wanted to remind you of how much of a good time we can have.”
You only shook your head and grinned as he walked off, pretending to be blissfully unbothered. What goes around, comes around, after all. And you deserved that for pushing up against him earlier. It took a minute and you got back to sorting your book titles. Time passed surprisingly fast when you were being productive. Box after box emptied itself, almost as if your wish for magic powers had become reality. But it was just two people, who were so excited about their reward that they forgot to even take a proper break in between the chaos. And soon you were down to the last cardboard box. It was full of decorations you didn’t need for the current season.
Just a few more climbs up and down the ladder to the very top of the closet and you were done. He stood next to the ladder, handing you the things so you didn’t have to go all the way down each time.
“Last one,” he said, giving you a box with holiday lights. Successfully, you placed it in its new spot. When you finally made eye contact with him, he was already staring at you like you were the only thing in the room worth looking at. To be fair, from where he stood, there wasn’t much left up to his imagination. With your stockings on display, his eyes could probably go all the way up to your garter belt.
“Is this angle too revealing?” you asked.
“Absolutely,” he said, making you laugh. Smirking, he took your hand as you stepped off the ladder. You stumbled into his body as you grinned at each other. You both had the same thing on your mind, without a doubt. It was like a little inside joke you had made up just now, making you flirt through looks and small touches. His hand rubbed the small of your back as he bent to your ear.
“My pretty maid, haven’t you worked enough for the day?” he asked. “All that teasing you did today must have been soexhausting.”
You nodded overly seriously, as if riling up your horny boyfriend was physically tiring work. “I hope I did a good job. Did I?”
“No one else could have done it better,” he said. “Now let me treat you, baby.”
You hummed with your mouth already too close to his to say anything. Then your lips finally crashed onto his. It was a little ridiculous how much you missed his touch after only hours of being without it. People had told you you’d get tired of being with each other all the time. But it had been years and you still wished you could have cuffed his wrist to yours because you loved him just that much.
Your tongues fought playfully as you pushed him against the closet front. Small noises came from both of your mouths, quietly agreeing that this was what you had been waiting for – more or less patiently. Your hands became busy with the buttons of his flannel. When you came across his bare skin underneath instead of a shirt, you smiled into the kiss. Every layer less to remove meant you were one step closer to what you wanted.
“We’ve never done it in here,” you muttered against his hungry lips. “That table looks nice, doesn’t it?”
He grinned. Your hands had already messed up his hair, but nothing came close to his dark eyes in moments like these. His look never failed to make your heart skip a beat while you wondered how you had ended up with the most handsome guy in the world.
“Will you think of us, if you ever sit there and work in the future?” he asked, leading you over to the office table. He dropped his flannel on the ground on the way.
“I always think about us,” you said. “But you can make sure this one stays especially prominent in my memory.”
“There’s nothing I’d rather do,” he said, and kissed you again. Your ass was backed against the edge of the table and one of his legs pushed between your thighs. It made you whimper quietly in anticipation. He touched the little part on your thighs that was bare, playing with your garters. With your eyes closed, his tongue on yours and his hands being so close but so far from where you needed him, your head spun with dizziness. He was like a drug, like alcohol dripping straight from his lips and the more you kissed him, the less control you had over yourself. His attention gave you loose lips and the impulse to be risky, all whilst feeling so high up in the clouds you weren’t sure you’d ever find your way back down. You hissed when he pressed his fingers against your underwear.
“You’ll keep the dress on,” he said. “Will you?”
“Of course,” you obliged. “If that’s what you want.”
“Good girl,” he said, and he pulled aside your panties to slide his finger over the slickness that had formed between your thighs. As if on command, your hips moved closer to his hand as you whimpered at the too gentle friction. All afternoon you had been thinking of his hands on you. When you had watched him peel away the tape from the boxes, when he was taking your hand to help you down from the ladder and when he had run his fingers through his hair absentmindedly – all you could think about was how much you wanted those hands to grab your hips and for him to have his way with you.
“Take these off,” he ordered. His stern but gentle voice turned your insides into mush. It made you behave almost like a robot, no ifs ands or buts. When you usually liked to tease him, you knew not to test your limits when he spoke in this tone. Your underwear dropped to the floor and you kicked it a few meters away. Again, his hands ghosted under your dress and found your center. You felt like your knees would buckle from the way he rubbed small circles on your clit. Moaning quietly, you wrapped your arms around his neck for support, leaning your forehead against his chest for a moment. You let out small huffs and whimpers against his skin and nuzzled especially close to him when he touched that one special spot for a few seconds.
“Look at me.” He watched intently as your eyelids fluttered like your eyes were going to roll to the back of your head. You tried your best.
“Put your hands on the table by your sides,” he said. You hummed in disapproval but didn’t dare say so. After all, he could have also told you to put them on your back. And holding on to a wooden edge was still better than not holding on to anything, when you felt like a child standing on its feet for the first time. When he hooked his free hand under your thigh, lifting up your leg a little, your grip on the table tightened. You swore under your breath when he plunged two of his fingers into you. He curled them, pushing hard against your sweet spot and you curled your back in response.
All day you had gone without any sort of attention, when your head had been so full of things you knew you could do with him. The most release you had gotten – which was basically no release at all – was from pushing your legs together tightly when the dirty thoughts had become too much for your brain to handle. You knew it was your own fault for setting yourself up with this challenge. But now with your chest heaving and your head feeling like a tsunami of emotions was raging inside of it, you didn’t regret it as much as you thought you would two hours ago. Maybe you should play this waiting game more often, instead of jumping onto each other any chance you got.
“You look so hot like this,” he said. At the sound of his voice your eyes opened. Those eyes. While they usually held loyalty and playfulness, they now only spoke of authority. He used his thumb to rub your clit whilst his fingers were still inside of you, making you feel like floating. You were his favorite sight, by far. Above all times he watched you, from waking up in the morning to falling asleep in his arms at night, right now was the most mesmerizing. Your parted lips were the entrance to heaven and the glow in your teary, desperate eyes was putting the evening sun to shame.
“I’m so close,” you moaned. Your chest was alternating between short puffs and not breathing at all. Maybe your brain was too focused on the bliss you were chasing to care about breathing for now. You couldn’t blame yourself.
“Don’t make a mess, baby,” he said.
“No, I won’t,” you said. “Can I touch you when I come, please?”
You gave him your most entreating eyes, knowing that even though he liked telling you what to do in the bedroom, not even the strictest boyfriend was immune to your puppy eyes. You suspected that if he had declined, you might have held on to him anyways. Too overpowering was the clamor inside your head that was telling you to be close to him.
“Only when you’re coming,” he said. “Not a second earlier.”
You nodded obediently as your eyes shut again. Good thing you were mere moments away from just that. His fingers moved quickly, now that he knew how close you were to your high. It robbed your breath all at once. And it did the job, after a short while. You whined and arched your back, your hands flinging around his shoulders. Your little noises came out muffled against his skin as you closed your legs around his hand. He barely moved his fingers anymore, but kept the pressure on your most sensitive spots, making sure you could relish in every last second of your orgasm. Only after a while your grip on him loosened, and you realized how your nails had been digging into his skin.
“Sorry,” you said, rubbing over the moon-shaped marks on his shoulder. “Did I hurt you?”
“No, baby,” he said. When he removed his hand, you shuddered one last time, but missed his touch already. His magic was always working on you. Even when he had just made you come, the mere sight of the bulge in his pants, ready to spring free, made you want to pull him right into your body again.
“You came so fast today,” he said. Softly, he kissed you, but you noticed the hint of hunger that he must had been feeling as you were coming down from your high.
“That’s what you do to me,” you admitted. “Do you think you’re the only one who felt tortured all day long? It was driving me crazy, too.”
“You seemed to have a lot of fun, messing with my head,” he said, smirking.
“You’ll find that it was worth it, after this,” you said. He raised his eyebrows in question. You were already stepping forward, dropping to your knees in front of him. Like a child on Christmas morning, his eyes lit up at the sight of you.
“Aren’t you the prettiest maid?” he asked, the question obviously rhetorical. To him, you were the prettiest person in the whole universe. You tugged on his pants and pulled them down, along with his underwear. Your mouth watered at the sight of his member, hard and red from all the waiting he’d had to endure. The way he looked at you from above made you feel small, but he stroked your hair out of your face gently and you knew this was exactly where you wanted to be right now, and any other day.
“Hands behind your back,” he said. You smiled and did as he said, holding your right wrist with your left hand on your back. He caught on to your reaction right away.
“You don’t even mind, right?” he said. You were already sitting straight, mouth open, your tongue protruding slightly. “You like it when I make it more difficult for you, don’t you?”
You only nodded and hummed a small yes, then he placed the tip of his dick on your tongue. At first, you only closed your mouth around it, not taking more of him. Your tongue licked over the swollen tip almost shyly. He groaned as he watched you test the waters. After all, he was the one who could control what you did to him. For now, however, he seemed to leave you your freedom to do what you felt like. You pressed your tongue flat against the underside of his cock, licking over the tip ever so slowly. Then, you sunk your mouth further onto his length, taking as much as you could. It was so quiet you only noticed his uneven breathing as he eyed you from above.
“Shit, you’re so good for me,” he said. “Now stop with the teasing, will you? You know what happens if you don’t.”
You knew exactly. And so you shifted from your slow movements to quicker ones. You made sure to keep your tongue on him, especially when you moved your head away, swirling it around the tip now and then. His moans were music to your ears and only motivated you further. You had always loved his voice, when you sang to the song on the car radio or hummed his latest favorite song under the shower. But nothing compared to the way his voice sounded when you sucked him off. He seemed to be the most unrestrained then, not caring who heard him because he was way to obsessed with you sitting by his feet. The way he looked at you then made your stomach turn in pleasure. He didn’t even need to say anything or touch you. His overseeing eyes alone made you want him more than anything else.
His fingers in your hair curled, pushing your head further down on him. You focused on not gagging, your eyes closing. Tears brimmed behind your eyelids, but you were determined not to let them fall. Instead, you opened your lips a little wider and stuck your tongue out to make it easier for him to use your mouth however he desired.
“That’s a good girl,” he said, sighing in relief. You were awaiting treatment a lot rougher than the one he gave you, though. He thrusted into your mouth rather slowly, giving you enough of a break to remember to breathe. When you looked up at him with your sweetest eyes possible, his expression was a mix of strain and pleasure. You suspected he was trying not to overdo it just yet.
“Baby…can I fuck you or is that too much for you?” he asked. You perked up at his request. When you started humming around his length, he pulled away to let you speak.
“Please,” you said. “Fuck me. On the table.”
“Alright, my baby’s making the rules now, is she?” he said. “Come here.”
“I thought that’s where you wanted me to remember you, wasn’t it?” you asked, getting up.
“You’re right,” he said. You sat down on the edge of the office table with your legs parted for him to stand between them. Just once he kissed you. You wanted him to hurry, so you linked your heels behind his back, pulling him closer.
“Take me like a good girl.” He ran his cock over your slick folds, and he groaned when he felt your warmth on him. In response you nodded willingly, unable to wait a second more for him. Luckily, he didn’t plan on dragging out the anticipation any longer. With ease he slid into you, finding a familiar rhythm right away. As if you hadn’t just come ten minutes ago, you whimpered pathetically at the satisfaction. You leaned your weight onto your hands behind you, watching his cock enter you over and over. There was no limit to how many times you could have him inside of you. Every time it felt the same. Like he was completing you, all whilst simultaneously ruining you. His thrusts were sharp and as you raised your legs and changed the angle slightly, your eyes rolled back for a moment.
“Harder,” you asked, even though you were already overwhelmed.
“You want more?” he asked. You hummed a yes and nodded quickly. His grip on your waist tightened as he pulled you closer to the edge of the table. He didn’t disappoint. He never did. Swiftly, he pushed your legs further open and pounded into you, making your body shake every time his hips slapped against yours. It drove you borderline mad. A part of your brain urged you to praise him, to let him know what he was doing to you. But then, those unspoken words between you were inconsequential. You didn’t need to tell him how good he was. He could read it in every part of your body. He saw it in the arch of your back, in your curled toes and in your lip that was captured between your teeth. He heard it in the way you moaned and said his name like he was your savior.
Plus, you would tell him all about it afterward. But that wasn’t what your mind was focused on momentarily. It was the way he hit your sweet spot every time and you could barely breathe normally amidst your whimpers. You hadn’t even introduced yourself to all your neighbors yet, but they most certainly had taken notice of your arrival in the new apartment.
“Can you use your hands for me?” he asked. “Show me touching yourself, baby.”
His words and the look of dominance in his eyes was all it took, and without second thought your hands went to your center. You sucked in a breath at the added pleasure. It was almost too much at first, but then you let it all in. Like a wave was crashing over you, your eyes closed, and you hummed from the intensity.
“That’s it. Make yourself come again,” he said. “You can do it again.”
“Yes,” you said, almost breathed with the weakest voice. Your body had other things to focus on at that moment, letting your vocal chords do whatever they felt like. You clenched your walls around him and the knot in your stomach tightened with every little circle you drew on your clit. His usually tender eyes were everything but that as he watched you revel in the pleasure.
“So fucking hot,” he groaned. You tried hard to uphold eye-contact through fluttering eyelids and furrowed brows. “Good girl, keep going. Tell me when you’re coming.”
You hummed a yes as one of his hands cupped the side of your neck, the other remaining on your hips so he could push your body against his own with every thrust. After all this time of being with him you knew what it meant when his moans became higher pitched and he seemed to not realize his mean grip on your skin – not that you minded. You loved seeing the marks he left on you, especially when you had nowhere to be the next days. It always made him hungry, when he saw the dark spots on your skin, like a fading memory of what you had done.
A curse fell from his perfect lips and his thrusts turned sloppy as he came inside of you. His face, all twisted in bliss and from exhaustion, was all you needed.
“Stay inside of me. Just for a little while, please,” you plead, fingers on your clit rubbing at the quickest speed you could muster. “I’ll come if you stay.”
“I’m right here,” he said, slowing his actions until he was just filling you up, but now moving anymore. “It’s okay. Come for me.”
Just having him there, stretching out your walls and making you feel so close to him was all you really needed. And his words of affirmation sent you over the edge in no time. It was a toe-curling, mind-bending surge that overcame you at your release. Stars danced delightfully behind your closed eyelids while you tried to process all of it. He gripped your hand that was touching your clit and pressed it down, urging you to go on for a little while longer. You whined in sensitivity, feeling like your legs would give in, even though you were already sitting down. For just another while, he dragged out your orgasm as you struggled to control your overwhelmed senses. He distracted you by bending forward and letting his lips graze yours.
“You did so good,” he said. “My pretty maid.”
You whimpered and then sighed when he finally lifted your hand away from between your legs. Only then you could scrape together some words.
“We both did good today,” you grinned. “And I mean not only the last half hour.”
“Agreed,” he said. “Tomorrow we could tackle those last boxes in the kitchen. What do you think?”
“Can the maid outfit make another appearance?” you asked.
“I was hoping it might,” he said, kissing you softly. Your tired limbs and mind welcomed his gentleness as your hands went to his hair. You could already guess how the next day would go, then. But truth be told, you didn’t mind it one bit.
594 notes · View notes
zodiyack · 3 years
Text
A Work Proposition
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Female!Reader
Warnings: Nothing really
Words: 1,370
Summary: The female detective Lestrade has introduced is compelling, and upon seeing her and Sherlock interact, Enola’s cupid skills subtly kick in.
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Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it, @simonsbluee, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @missihart23, @maan24, @beck07990​
Masterlist | Henry Cavill Masterlist
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The woman often hired to work with Lestrade, who was a common friend with Sherlock, had been at her job for a few years now. Lestrade thought highly of his new detective friend, so much so that he introduced her to the well known, Sherlock. His plan was to have them crack some cases they’d been stuck on, two mighty detectives better than one, but he had to get them to agree without scaring them off with the idea of meeting and working with a complete stranger.
Y/n agreed quickly, Sherlock taking some convincing, but the thing was, he didn’t tell either of them that they’d be working with another person. Both, however, showed up with mild confusion. It was his fault, he admitted. Confusion had to have been expected with his letters. The letters he’d sent out for his plea of summoning them went as this;
“Dear Detective,
You’re receiving this letter because I am of urgent need. I would like to request your assistance in a case that has us rather stumped. If it isn’t too much trouble, of course.
Though I will not explain too much of the case at hand, I will give you some convincing, hopefully, reassurance. Fear not for your life nor safety, you will be far from death’s doorstep on this mission.
The rest of the details of the case will be provided upon your arrival. Once informed, you may still have the choice of rejecting or accepting my beseechment. I ask you to at least hear out what I would like to solve before any denial of this matter.
Nothing is required except you and a healthy amount of sleep, for both you and your extraordinary intelligence. Bring your tools, or supplies if you prefer that name more, if you wish.
We shall supply you with any and all information you need, as well as a meal in apology for dragging you away from your personal life. I do hope you take my imploration into consideration.
Sincerely, Inspector G. Lestrade.”
It wasn’t the most specific of information, nor the longest letter he could write, but it would do. He sent it off in the mail then went home and slept peacefully. Early the next morning, Y/n was at his door, up and ready without a trace of sleep lingering on her face, whereas Lestrade had bags under his eyes and was yawning ever few seconds.
“Sorry to disturb your sleep, Inspector. Your letter lacked any instructions for when I do indeed accept...which would be now.” She waited by the door politely as Lestrade walked to his kitchen.
“Come in, Y/n, I would hate to make you stand outside.” He called from the other room. Y/n obliged happily, stepping in and closing the door behind her. A few seconds later and Lestrade was scurrying back to her with another piece of parchment. “My apologies, I knew something felt left out.” He chuckled nervously.
“Oh, it’s no worries, Inspector!” She put the note in her satchel, then faced him again. “I hope you get some rest. Again, I’m ever so sorry to have woken you-”
He held out a hand, quieting her instantly. “Y/n, you’ve done no wrong, there’s no need to be distressed.”
Y/n nodded, approaching the door again but stopping with her hand upon the handle, “Perhaps you should go back to sleep whilst you still can. I’ll see you then, Inspector.” A warm smile was thrown his way before she carefully opened the door and left.
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They awaited Y/n’s arrival. Enola had tagged along with her older brother, hoping to be granted permission by both men, more hopeful with Lestrade’s words of guaranteed safety. Both Holmes siblings and Lestrade were sat patiently in his office. Well, in truth, only Lestrade dawned patience.
“Excuse my impoliteness, Lestrade, but why exactly are we yet to begin?” His brows were knitted, blue eyes holding great confusion.
“It’ll be only a few more minutes now.” He commented rather casually as he fished out his pocket watch, inspecting it for a second before placing it back in his waistcoat pocket. “My sincerest apologies for the hold up.”
Like he had promised, a few minutes went by and then- Just as Enola and Sherlock were about to rise, thank Lestrade for the job offer, turn it down and then return home for a quiet reading in the library, knocks sounded from the glass of the door.
Y/n stood on the other side, rapping her knuckles against the door, her eyes trained on Lestrade. He rose from his seat, her hand dropping and the knocking ceasing. Enola and Sherlock looked over, suddenly intrigued with the surprise guest as she stepped into the office.
“Please, detective, have a seat.” He smiled and gestured his hand to the large leather couch against the wall.
Enola scooted to the end, resting her palm and the arm of the sofa, Sherlock scooting slightly to make room for the detective despite there are already being enough that no one would be forced to move. It was only polite, plus, they were still strangers.
“I’m very sorry for my lateness, I got rather sidetracked with the anticipation for this case.” Y/n explained with a sheepish chuckle, sitting down and turning to face the others on the leather seating. She extended her hand to Sherlock, “I know you. You’re Detective Sherlock Holmes...and that must be your sister, Enola, I’ve read fantastic things of you two, marvelous work by the way. I’m Y/n L/n.”
“Detective Y/n L/n.” Lestrade corrected before either Holmes could respond.
“Ah, yes. I am indeed a detective, as Lestrade has mentioned, however, I see no need for either of you two to reference me with such formalities. My work pales in comparison to the Holmes cases.”
“I’m honored you think that, but you mustn’t put yourself down,” Sherlock drawled, a small grin upon his lips.
This peculiar, new woman aroused his curiosity just as much as he did hers. If she were a case, he’d be at work on her for hours at a time and still have towers to unravel. A mystery, complex but something he was determined to solve, shrouded her.
Sherlock had his eyes trained on her, the world becoming silent around him as he took in her face, mind creating a mental photograph he could hold onto as long as he pleased. The details of her features were like a rare piece of art, but not one he could find in the museum. No, she was far too unique, far too rare to be held up in a marble building with works nowhere near as beautiful, as desired as her.
“Now that you’ve made acquaintances, we shall speak about the case! I called you both here without knowledge of each other’s appearances, and I am deeply sorry for tricking you, but I wanted to introduce the two...” his eyes drifted to Enola, “three greatest detectives I’ve ever met. I originally intended on having Y/n and Sherlock work on the case, but I assume Enola would enjoy helping out?”
The older Holmes opened his mouth, ready to confirm his sister would be joining the two, but Enola was much faster. “Thank you, but I’m afraid I’ll be the one to decline your invitation for this case. Nonetheless, I don’t doubt that my brother, or detective L/n, would be up for the task.”
She stood up and left the office. Lestrade was ready to begin his explanation on the case before Sherlock rose suddenly and started after his little sister. He pushed past the people working at the station until he reached her, grabbing ahold of her arm and giving her a perplexed look.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“I thought you said you wanted to help?”
She smiled softly at her brother, “I saw the way you looked at detective L/n the second she walked in. You should work with her, get to know her. Worry not, brother, she isn’t here to usurp your name, only provide whatever assistance she can.” Then, she left the station, her words racing through Sherlock’s conscious the entirety of the day.
Maybe Y/n really would usurp his name...without the illegality of it obviously.
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