#also i wanted to show off this picture since he's unfairly pretty in it
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what if he let me rest my head in his lap while he reads to me - his free hand gently playing with my hair when he's not turning the pages. what if I get so soothed by his voice that I start struggling to stay awake before eventually falling asleep in his lap, only for him to chuckle softly when he recognizes what's happened. what if he kisses the tips of his fingers before brushing them over the top of my head and murmuring 'goodnight' to me before returning to his book in silence??
#idk where this came from but i am /soft/#i want this rn like please?#also i wanted to show off this picture since he's unfairly pretty in it#(not that he isn't unfairly pretty all the time but you get it)#irrationally in love 💖📗#f/o gush#i think this is gushy enough for that tag lol
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(BAU Headcanons) Spending a day off with your S.O.
Aaron Hotchner
Ok. So. First of all... Aaron's casual wardrobe is sinful and I feel like I need to mention it when talking about days off. After all, he's not going to turn down the excuse not to wear a shirt and tie, knowing jeans and his usual polo shirts are better suited to both relaxing and possibly chasing after Jack.
If you two ever got a rare day off then he would do his best to make you breakfast in bed, knowing that having an excuse to stay in bed is a luxury.
If Jack is with you, and not at Jessica's, then you know Jack would be right next to him in the kitchen, begging to help. I mean, if you watch Bluey, picture the episode where Bingo is trying to make that omelette for Bandit on his birthday... that's basically the vibe here.
Hotch wouldn’t try to force you out of the house if you didn’t want to go, as he’s perfectly happy to stay in and play with you and Jack. After all, you have the most recent lego set, which you bought him for his birthday, to finish building.
"You up for that buddy? Six hands are better than four, after all."
Or, if you don't have the energy or patience, then you three can curl up on the sofa together and watch movies and the backlog of tv shows you’ve missed out on whilst you’ve been away working.
Fun Fact: Aaron would rather die than admit to the rest of the BAU that you got him hooked on reality shows like The Real Housewives of Beverley Hills or Below Deck -but he is. He finds them fascinating case studies in human behaviour... or that's his excuse anyway when you call him out on it.
However, if you do want to actually leave the house and get outside then he’d be pretty relaxed about whatever it is you wanted to do, as long as you could all do it together.
He'd also love it if you both got the chance to go for a run, enjoying the rare opportunity to race you through the nearby park. You can just soak in the sunshine and watch the other people as they make their way through the world, before grabbing a coffee on your way home.
David Rossi
Rossi is a man who knows the value of creature comforts, as we've seen repeatedly in the show. You know this man enjoys having time off to indulge himself - and you too.
As soon as he knows he has the day off, you can bet he's driving you to the local farmer's market to buy all the ingredients needed for a home cooked feast.
Despite promising to be there only an hour, you know he's the kind of person who would talk to each and every vendor, learning all their names and asking after their families as if they've been friends since birth.
You'd end up spending almost the entire morning - and part of the afternoon - shopping, sampling various treats and wares, and buying several bag's worth, before you're finally able to drag him back to the car.
As he's cooking, Rossi would definitely play his favourite records. He alternates between crooning along and telling you tidbits about the artists - and the many crazy memories he has about these records.
"Did I ever tell you about the time I first heard this? We were in this tiny little motel, in the middle of a horrific blizzard, and several whiskeys in..."
It's hard not to get distracted, drawn in as he pulls you close and starts dancing about the kitchen. You'd get so distracted that you almost let dinner spoil and only remember it's even there when you start to smell something burning.
"Ah! Merda!"
After dinner you know you'd end up outside on his patio, enjoying the view as the sun goes down, over a cocktail of his choosing.
Derek Morgan
You know this eager beaver would not be spending a day off with you doing nothing or letting the day ‘go to waste’.
He’d be at your doorstep bright and early, looking unfairly energetic for someone who has been running on minimal sleep all week.
Thankfully, he brings coffee and breakfast with him which is his way of bribing you to get your ass up and out with him.
As for the day itself, he’d either have the day planned to a ’t’ or he’d have nothing planned at all.
“Relax, sweetness, we’re letting the day take us where it may. Enjoy the ride.”
He'd love having a reason to take you to whatever property he's renovating, hoping to share his vision for the place and getting your opinion on it all.
He'd even let you have a swing or two with a sledgehammer if there's a dry-wall that needs taking down. It's a great stress-reliever for you both, and there's nothing like hammering along in the time to beat of whatever playlist he's chosen.
He'd also order you a pizza, or whatever take-out you fancied, as payment for all your hard work.
You know he'd also been keen to help you wash up later, running you both a hot bath to soak in as you actually have the time to enjoy it.
And just between us - he knows Hotch and Rossi would have his guts his they found out - but he may or may not have left your cellphones on the bed-side table just to ensure you get an hour of peace, undisturbed...
Emily Prentiss
Ok. So. Emily loves having a day off almost as much as she enjoys working.
She doesn't require much in the way of plans. In fact, her ideal day off from the BAU involves you, a crossword puzzle, and your usual table by the window at the coffee shop around the corner.
It's right by the window, so you can bathe in the sun whilst you nurse your way through coffee after coffee.
The whole place reminds her of one similar that she spent her time in, in Paris. Just like then, she loves reading books, and completing the daily crossword with your help.
"Damn it. This is what time in Europe gets you - I forgot there's no 'u' in color. No wonder it wasn't fitting."
Emily also has a game she likes to play, watching the people around you, guessing what their stories are and imaging outlandish profiles for them all. It's a privilege to enjoy it when it's for entertainment and not out of a need to be aware of your surroundings or an ongoing threat assessment.
Afterwards, you'd go for a stroll around the park and most likely visit the shops you rarely get a chance to.
You both spend ages going through the racks and modelling outfits for one another, knowing you need some new things to fill out your wardrobes other than work-attire. It's a like private treat for yourselves.
Once you're home again, I feel Emily would want to cook and would do a pretty good job when she has the energy. However, she is not above ordering takeout when you both can’t be bothered.
After all, it gives you both more time together to lie in bed, with Sergio curled up between you, purring loudly as you take it in turns to pet him.
JJ
Depending on when you two got together (before or after Will), she would love to have a chance for the both of you to spend the day with Henry.
You're her family and the most important thing in the world to her. It's why she can't stop beaming as you spend the afternoon at the park together, running rings around the place and clambering all over the playground.
"I swear this kid is faster than most of the Unsubs we chase - and more sneaky too."
JJ would bring all your favourite snacks with her so you can all lie out on the grass and feast once your energy levels drop. She doesn't even mention the sugar content or how many E-numbers there are. You all deserve a treat, Henry included, so she's willing to put her 'mom hat' aside for a minute.
I feel like she'd also try and put her mom hat aside so you two can have some time without a child in tow. She'd try and make a last minute arrangement to get a sitter so you two can have some 'adult' time.
This normally involves making a reservation at your favourite restaurant, and insisting on you both dressing fancy just for the fun of it.
After all, you never get to play at being grown ups and just enjoy wearing something because it looks nice and not because you can run around in the field in it.
"I've had these heels for years and I swear I've only got to wear them like three times - and this skirt! I love this skirt."
Once you get to the restaurant, you spend hours just talking, drinking, and eating before taking a stroll on the way home.
You then curl up in bed and fall asleep to the sound of the TV playing your favourite movies, safe and warm in each other's arms.
Penelope Garcia
This girl is the queen of relaxing. If she doesn’t have to be awake before noon then you can bet your ass she’ll be tucked up and toasty till 12:01.
Once she's awake, however, she's a flustered mess, struggling to pick between her various plans for your time off together. There's just so much she wants to do with you and never enough time.
"What? I'm the queen of fun and I just want to make sure we make the most of our time together, sugar plum. I can't help it. I'm excited to have a day just you and me, not that I don't love the others too. I do, but you know, just having it be us is rare -"
You stop her rambling with a kiss, which of course makes her melt.
I feel like Penelope would always try and spend part of the day with you in the kitchen, baking a new recipe to take to work for the others to try.
She'd also love spending the day on the sofa with you, watching either a Rom-com or a Sci-fi marathon (depending on your moods).
Once the decision has been made, she'd insist on gathering supplies - AKA: onesies, takeout and face masks.
"It's the holy trinity of self-care," she explains, holding up your choices. "Now, do you want the tea-tree or coconut face mask?"
However, if you do feel like getting out of the house, then Penelope would take you on theatre trips - which are booked last minute but with amazing seats (courtesy of Penelope’s connections and slightly unorthodox know-how).
The others are still jealous after finding out she got you tickets to Hamilton, front row, with the original cast.
Dr Spencer Reid
You know Spencer is the kind of person that has a list of things the size of his arm that he’d love to do with you on a rare day off.
You’d probably have to negotiate with him to figure out which ones you could reasonably do in just 24 hours - and you try to find a balance between appeasing his interests and yours.
For example, you don’t mind sitting through a Russian movie festival if afterwards he agrees to let you wander around your favourite bookshop and spend as long as you want exploring the shelves - without him critiquing or spoiling the endings before you even have a chance to read the blurb.
If you also happened to let it slip that you'd never watched every single episode of Doctor Who that's ever been made, then you know your future days off will be spent marathoning on the couch.
"I'm just saying that he's underrated as the Doctor as arguably the narratives of his episodes are far better developed and reflect the point of the show, which is that the Doctor isn't perfect but rather a time-travelling refugee who acts as a healer, counsellor, and protector of the universe. It's why he calls himself 'The Doctor' ..."
He always looks so adorable when he gets excited about something he loves. It's hard not to fall in love with him all over again.
Apart from watching TV, you both also love spending days off on that couch, curled up together, reading your way through the stack of books you both had in your never ending ‘TBR’ pile.
Spencer would love listening to you discuss whatever you're reading, doing his best to memorise the characters, plots, and your thoughts on both. It's the least he can do when you listen so patiently every time he starts rambling on about whatever his latest hyper-fixation is.
"Can I... can I borrow that when you're finished? I'm now curious - just don't tell the others, ok?"
Masterlist
#ithebookhoarder#thesilentmage#masterlist#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#derek morgan#derek morgan x reader#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner#david rossi x reader#david rossi#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss#jennifer jareau x reader#jennifer jareau#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#penelope garcia x reader#penelope garcia
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"What the HELL are you wearing?"
Steddie ^^
A continuation of this (hope OP doesn't mind, but it fit so nicely!)
“What the hell are you wearing?” Steve—shit, Eddie should probably find out his last name if he’s going to be following this guy back to Paris…and also asking him back to his hotel room after the show—calls as they enter the charming little chateau he’s staying at. Seriously. It looks like something out of a fairy tale—ivy covered walls, a beautiful garden full of flowers and vegetables, a snowy white cat perched on the fence. If you looked up the phrase ‘charming little chateau’ in the dictionary, there would probably be a picture of this place right next to it.
Eddie peeks around Steve’s shoulder (it’s only polite to wait to be invited inside, it has nothing to do with him wanting a longer look at that enticing ass in those jeans) and for a moment, his heart sinks. There’s a woman around their own age standing in the—charming—living room, bathed in sunlight from the wide picture windows. There’s nothing particularly offensive about her outfit…except for the neon purple beret perched on her head. She’s got a huge canvas set up on an easel in front of her, the floor covered by drop cloths and paints, brushes, and other tools covering every flat surface. She’s pretty, in an off-beat kind of way—not as classically attractive as Steve, to Eddie’s eyes, but pretty all the same, and Eddie can sense the easy familiarity between the two as Steve drops his bag of purchases by the door and saunters into the living room. He plucks the beret off the woman’s head, examining it with a look of disgust and dodging nimbly when the woman reaches to snatch it back.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit, has he misread this whole situation? Or, Christ, is he about to be invited to a threesome or something? He doesn’t think he’s been misinterpreting the looks Steve keeps casting at him, but he does not feel like awkwardly turning down some hot young couple trying to be adventurous…particularly as he’s kind of depending on them to get him back to Paris in time for the show.
Then he takes a closer look at the woman.
“Holy shit, you’re Robin Buckley!” he exclaims, drawing her eyes to him. They immediately go as wide as his feel.
“Holy shit, you’re Eddie Munson!” she gasps.
Well. At least he knows Steve didn’t bring him back here with the intention of having a threesome.
Steve freezes, glancing between them with a—still unfairly attractive—frown. “You two…know each other?” he asks slowly.
“I mean…not personally?” Eddie says. “Just—oh my God, I love your art! My best friend is obsessed with you!” he can’t help gushing. Robin Buckley is a darling of the international art scene—her portraits and paintings in demand in galleries all over the world. Eddie would kill to have some of her art on one of their album covers.
Chrissy is going to die of jealousy when she hears about this. She’s been nursing the worst crush on Robin Buckley for going on two years now. Ever since she saw the woman speak at a charity gala dedicated to raising money for art scholarships for LGBT+ youth.
“My art! Dude! I love your stuff. Holy fuck, the Touchstone album was on blast 24/7 while I was painting my last triptych!”
Steve has moved further into the living room and is examining Buckley’s canvas with interest. At Robin’s words, he looks back at Eddie, arching an eyebrow. “You’re a—singer?” he asks, obviously guessing. Eddie ducks his head down, biting his lip a little.
“Something like that,” he says modestly. Buckley cackles.
“Oh my God! Dingus! How do you go out for booze and come back with the freakin’ lead singer and guitarist of Corroded Coffin? What is your life?” She points a paintbrush covered in yellow paint at him, causing him to dance backwards with a laugh that is fucking musical to Eddie’s ears.
“I don’t know who that is! No offense,” he tosses over his shoulder at Eddie, “he was trying to ask that clerk in the cheese shop for help finding the train station.”
Buckley nods sagely. “In English?” she asks Eddie.
Eddie nods sheepishly. “Didn’t go so well. Thank God Stevie here was in line behind me.” He notices Steve’s cheeks go a little pink at the pet name, and can’t help but smile. He hopes he gets to see how far down that blush goes tonight.
Buckley hums, her eyes flicking between him and Steve before they go a little sly. “Stevie,” she says, sidling a little closer to her friend. She glances at Eddie again. “Voulez-vous coucher avec lui?” she asks with a smirk.
And look. Eddie doesn’t speak French. Gareth made him memorize how to ask where the bathroom is, order a beer, and tell someone to fuck off (just for funsies) and he has a handful of other helpful phrases written down phonetically in his lyric notebook. However, Chrissy blasts Lady Marmalade every time it comes on the radio and he knows damn well what Buckley just asked Steve.
Steve shoots him a sly little side-glance, looking him up and down in a way that has heat blooming in Eddie’s gut. “Oui,” he says, tossing Eddie a little wink. Eddie kind of wants to fist pump.
Buckley laughs again, sounding delighted. “Oh my God, I can’t wait to tell Dustin about this. He’s going to die!”
Steve shakes his head. “Rob, I swear to God, if you tell Dustin about this, you can walk back to London next week.”
“Pfft, like I can’t buy my own plane tickets. Worth it!” she singsongs before whirling back to Eddie. “I am so delighted to meet you, Eddie Munson…would you like to join us for lunch, or do we need to get you back to Paris, like, ASAP?”
He glances at the—very charming—clock sitting on the mantle behind Buckley’s easel. He’s not due at soundcheck for another few hours and Steve said the city was only about an hour and a half train ride. Besides. Chrissy has been so good to him over the years—she truly is his best friend as well as their manager. He owes it to her to put in a good word with the woman she’s been pining over, doesn’t he?
“I could eat,” he says. “Gotta keep my energy up for tonight,” he says, making direct eye contact with Steve as he says it. That delightful flush sweeps over Steve's cheekbones again.
Seriously. Wandering around the French countryside. Best. Decision. Ever.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley#chrissy/robin if you squint#my writing#stranger things#stranger things fic#fic prompt
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Hey hey heyy! Maybe a Stephen Strange aftercare drabble? 🙋🏻♀️
Dr. Strange | nsfw-ish aftercare
This picture cracks me up. Diving head first into the multiverse lol
• You're both exhausted and drained, for a change. Stephen enjoyed getting under your skin, finding out what makes you tick, so most of the time it was you who immediately rolled over and went to sleep. But this time you set your mind on being as stubborn as possible and that paid off in spades.
• Stephen is calm and truly relaxed in what feels like ages, running open palms all over your skin, tenderly brushing his fingertips over the places he'd left his marks. You're floating, somewhere between space and ground, your tiredness sweet and aches pleasurable. He must've said something you missed because his movements stop and you see his eyes looking over your face in concern. "What?" You ask, drowsy.
• "You've completely dropped, huh?" Strange sounds equal parts amused and self-satisfied. You take a moment to consider his words and then nod: sub drop wasn't an uncommon occurrence after playing with the neurosurgeon-turned-sorcerer. It only showed that your man was unfairly good at everything. "Want some cuddles?"
• "Yessir," You mumble, giving into the desire to be babied and loved upon. Feeling his arms wrap around you and his tall, lithe form cover a considerable amount of your body surface, you relish in the comfort and safety your lover provides, letting your thoughts drift in your head like fluffy lazy clouds over a clear sky. "M'love you," The words are quiet.
• "I love you too, darling," He hears them nonetheless, raising a hand to gently stroke the side of your face. "You are so good for me," He whispers into your temple, his beard scratching against it, making you let out a short giggle. "So beautiful," The praise doesn't stop there. He points out your best qualities one by one.
• "So smart and brave," Stephen is beginning to sound choked up now. "And so, so kind," The gentle touch migrates to your waist where he clutches you closer to yourself, slotting your bare bodies to each other. You fit together like two matching pieces of a complex puzzle.
• "No, you," A sudden bout of childishness strikes you and you pull out your hand to extend a single finger to boop his nose. "My sexy, serious doctor-wizard," It's not often you two joke around like this so you savor the moment, placing featherlight kisses to the skin of your lover wherever you can reach.
• "I'm a sorcerer," He replies lowly but there's no malice in his tone. He gently tickles your ribs before resuming the gentle stroking of your marked flesh, soothing the stings and burns with a dash of magic he thinks you can't feel. It's been a long time since you figured out why your post-play bruises heal so quickly.
• Stephen thinks he's being extra sneaky; you don't have the heart to tell him he's been made but at the same time you can't help but wonder what would it feel like to spend the next day with the past evening's sensations branded into your skin, blooming each time you move and sit down.
• "What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?" As usual, Stephen's sixth sense lets him know you're thinking of something... Special. You snort in response.
• "Nothing, just thinking what did I do in my past life to land myself this sexy, brilliant doctor who also happens to be an omnipotent sorcerer," The reply is coy. Stephen takes a second to bask in the compliment, rewarding you with a short but passionate kiss that grounds you as you begin to come down from the endorphin high.
• "I can be persuaded enough to look and see," He cocks an eyebrow in that contemplative way and you still have no idea if he means it or is just joking around. The possibilities of his magic powers seem endless to you.
• "I don't think it's really a question I need answered," Finally, you come to a conclusion of your own, really not caring for the spiritual at the moment when your very physical body is snugly wrapped in your boyfriend's arms and he is more than happy to give you all his undivided attention.
It's been years since a man has been able to put me in subspace so pardon me, I'm a little rusty on the details. I feel like Steph would be super verbal though, y'kno? Anyways, there's too little Doc appreciation and we need to start fixing that.
#stephen strange headcanons#stephen strange x y/n#stephen strange x you#stephen strange x reader#doctor strange x you#doctor strange x reader#doctor Strange x y/n#stephen strange fluff#doctor Strange fluff#bunny's headcanons
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—CYBΞRSΞX (m)
pairing. jeon jungkook | female reader | park jimin
genre & au's. smut, humor / camgirl!reader, camboy!pjm, rich boy!jjk
word count. 10.213
warnings. please read ! multiple explicit sexual scenes, masturbation (f + m), porn, sexting, nudes, jk in a thong (bc yes), ice play, sex toys, face sitting, sub!jk, (soft) dom!reader, sub!jm, [18+]
note. AHH it's finally here!! thank you to everyone who liked the teasers, i hope you'll enjoy this baby! this went thru a lot of editing, rewriting, and deleting, but i’m finally happy w it !! feedback is vv much appreciated <3!!
note two. and yes, i did take the opportunity to write subby bts, bc i can, and we need more of it. thats it. sub jk rights!
—shoutout to vira ( @periminkle ) for beta reading and making me laugh w her reactions <3 ily
[teaser #1] ♡ [teaser #2] ♡ [playlist]
synopsis. there are three rules you set for yourself when you signed up for cybersex.com. one, separate work from your personal life. two, do not get involved with any cyberboy, no matter how stupidly & unfairly gorgeous he is. and three, do not, under any circumstance, fall for a client. they're very simple, and very easy to follow. so why are you about to get in bed with park jimin, cyberboy extraordinaire, in order to spite a loyal client of yours?
[ :: LOADING... my strange addiction :: ]
The hot pink log-in screen of cybersex.com is a sight Jungkook is embarrassingly familiar with. Frankly, he’s afraid to admit how many times he’s logged on this past week. It takes him no longer than a minute for him to input his account information, quickly searching for the sole reason he’s still on this site at all.
Jungkook glances at the time. He might still be able to catch a bit of your show tonight. Even if it were only for a few moments, it’d be enough for him until he actually got to talk to you tomorrow. Hopefully.
Jungkook knows better than to think he could ever get enough though.
● LIVE!: sittin here undressed...
By Sweetheart666
83,938 viewing now
The screen goes black for a second before you appear, sitting on your bed with a pink pillow between your thighs. Jungkook sucks in a breath, feeling his dick twitch in his sweatpants. Your hands are on your chest, playing with your nipples and whining softly. Your sounds spur Jungkook further, his eyes glued to the completely fucked out expression on your face and (too soon) his dick is fully erect. He doesn't know how you're able to get him like this so quickly every time.
There's sensual music in the background, but Jungkook only focuses on the pretty sounds falling from your lips. Jungkook begins to palm himself through his sweats just as you tease your fingers over the band of the mesh shorts barely leaving anything to the imagination. Jungkook's skin is hot to the touch, and he can feel the sweat building on his forehead.
“Oh? Do you guys want this off?”
Comments fill the screen quickly, all fervently voting in favor for removing the sheer white fabric. But this isn’t Jungkook’s first time, and he knows better than anyone you like for them to beg.
“Show me how bad you want me to take it off.”
v_steponmepls_ tipped 2,000 hearts!
secretly1ntoXhibitionism tipped 5,000 hearts!
bbybun14 tipped 1,600 hearts!
“Aww, is that all? Guess you don’t want it that much...”
Your fingers leave the band of your shorts, choosing to fiddle with the heart chain around your neck as you wait. Jungkook chuckles, knowing that the comments were all probably whining at your teasing. But as previously mentioned, Jungkook was a bit more experienced in your realm. His fingers dance on the keyboard of his computer.
nj_94 tipped 10,000 hearts!
Tiny red hearts fill Jungkook’s screen as he smirks, lying back against his headboard. He sees the way your eyes flash, before you’re smirking at the camera, as if you could see how desperate Jungkook was.
“So needy, aren’t you, nj_94? Alright, I guess I can give you a little something then...”
Jungkook suddenly feels warmth on his face, and he realizes he’s fucking blushing at your attention. There was something about you acknowledging him in front of almost ninety-thousand people that made his chest swell with pride. He’s so fucking whipped, a thought that crosses his mind momentarily before his focus is back on you. When you finally remove your flimsy shorts, Jungkook moans loudly at the sight of your dripping core. Oh, how he wishes he could stuff his face in between your thighs.
He pulls his sweatpants to his thighs, letting his dick spring free. Jungkook gathers his saliva, spitting into his hands before leisurely stroking his shaft. You play with your clit, moaning softly. He can see your juices dripping onto your mattress, leaving a mess. Jungkook briefly wonders how you would taste on his tongue.
nj_94 tipped 15,000 hearts!
“Wow, straight to the point huh?”
When you slip two fingers into yourself and whine, Jungkook’s strokes begin to speed up. He moans, uncaring of the fact that it was past midnight. Jungkook is mesmerized by the sight of your small fingers pumping in and out of your entrance. Your moans begin to grow louder, and he can tell by the way your hips are grinding along your hands that you're getting closer to your release. Jungkook can feel his coming as well, his strokes becoming sloppier.
“Fuck, I wish those were m-my hands instead of yours,” he mutters, lost in the way you’re making him feel. You moan louder, almost as if you could hear the words coming from Jungkook's mouth. It's impossible, but Jungkook lets his imagination wander.
“You’d probably make me beg for it, w-wouldn’t you?” he chuckles breathlessly as you grind down on your hand. “I-i don’t m-mind, though,” Jungkook is sure he’s mumbling nonsense, yet he can’t find it in himself to care when he’s so close to his release. “I l-love begging for you.” His voice sounds echoey, but in his lust-ridden mind, he can’t make sense of anything else other than you, you, you. Jungkook watches through lidded eyes as your hips stutter. You thumb your clit a couple more times before a loud whine rips through you, and you're reaching your climax.
Jungkook keeps his gaze on you, stroking himself a few more times until he too is spilling his seed all over his abs with a low groan. He’s left breathing harshly, lying on his back as he stares at the ceiling in a post-orgasmic haze. It takes a couple of minutes for Jungkook to fully recover before he looks at his computer screen again, realizing your live has abruptly ended. He sighs wistfully before closing his laptop shut.
Until tomorrow.
[ :: LOGGING IN... computer (almost, but not really) luv ::]
[ENDED]: feelin a bit bratty tonight?
By Sweetheart666
106,729 viewers / 202,728 hearts
jacker82: sailor moon cosplay plssssss?
i_swallow_: feet?
James Miller Jr.: would love to take you to dinner some time!
_tittystan_: OH MY GODDD PLSS PUNCH ME IN THE FACE T-T
catdaddyXoX: ur so hawt yumm XD
Scrolling through the comments section and reading them out loud always made you giggle to yourself. They were either always some absurd comment or a simple compliment thrown your way. And you’d be lying if you said doing these videos didn’t make your confidence go up tenfold. During the past few months you’ve been a Cybergirl, you’ve been steadily growing a following. Your past three videos have done exceedingly well, but it was always your lives that got the most attention.
It started as an easy way to get money to pay your bills. A lonely night in your apartment spent drinking cheap wine and crying about how pathetic you felt, because you couldn’t keep a job to save your life, led you to the hot pink sign up screen of Cybersex.com. You told yourself it would be just for you to get yourself back on your feet, but as you began to post more and see the numbers in your bank account go to the triple digits, you grew a penchant for the website.
All it took was a bit more effort into your videos for it to become your main source of income. You’ve grown much more comfortable around the camera than when you first started, and with that you've also been able to claim your place on the Hot200. It was undemanding work, for the most part. As expected, there was heavy competition between the cybergirls, which only worked to fuel your desire to chart. You had to come up with new and creative ideas for every video, and if you were being honest, you’d say you were pretty fucking good at what you do. And of course, there was no way for you to get fired.
To put it in simpler words, you loved being a cybergirl.
But, the best part, if you had to choose, were the personal clients. The ones who would pay an additional price in order to be able to talk to you directly, maybe even get a private show or pictures if they gave a bit more. You had yet to give a private show to anyone, which was pretty expensive depending on the popularity of the cybergirl. Not that you were complaining, there were enough message requests to keep you pleased and your pockets full.
An alert appears on the corner of your screen, signaling the low battery of your computer. After plugging it in you opt to clean your cam set-up, putting away your toys and equipment. You check the time on your phone, noting that you had time to shower before your upcoming session. One that you had been waiting impatiently for all week.
When you emerge from your bathroom, you pick up your phone again, scrolling through the messages until your eyes fall on one in particular. You look at the time. Punctual as always.
[𝟷:𝟹𝟶 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʜᴇʏ ;)
Him.
Nj_94 was your most loyal client, but he only messaged you twice a week. It’d been almost four months since you first started talking to him and you’d be lying if you said his messages didn’t leave you feeling giddy inside. Granted, you’ve never met him, nor do you even know what he looks like, but it didn’t exactly matter to you. Getting to know him over the soft pink message threads of the Cybersex app, you've definitely grown a soft spot for him. There was something about his cute, albeit awkward, self that sometimes had your mind brewing up visions of him beneath you, quivering and begging and-
You digress.
Your back hits the soft silk sheets of your bed, deciding to make him wait a bit. If there was anything you loved more than your little sessions with nj_94, it was teasing him.
[𝟷:𝟹𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʜɪ…
There’s not a moment for you to put down your phone before there’s a chain of pings! echoing through the quietness of your bedroom.
[𝟷:𝟹𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʜɪ
[𝟷:𝟹𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴍɪssᴇᴅ ᴜ
[𝟷:𝟹𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ɪs ᴛʜᴀᴛ sᴏ?
[𝟷:𝟹𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʏᴇs. ᴠᴇʀʏ.
ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺 ɪs ᴛʏᴘɪɴɢ…
ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺 ɪs ᴛʏᴘɪɴɢ…
The text appears and reappears several times before his message finally graces your screen.
[𝟷:𝟹𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴅɪᴅ ᴜ... ᴍɪss ᴍᴇ?
Of course you did, but you’d never tell him that. You sit up on your headboard, playing with the frill of your shorts for a few moments before typing out your message.
[𝟷:𝟺𝟷 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʜᴍᴍ... ᴅᴇᴘᴇɴᴅs
[𝟷:𝟺𝟷 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴅɪᴅ ᴜ ᴅᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴛᴏʟᴅ ᴜ?
On the other side of the screen lays Jungkook on his bed, eyes wide as he stares at your message. He knew you were going to ask him about it, but he didn’t think you’d do it right away. Of course he listened. And he enjoyed it an embarrassing amount, something he’d never be able to admit to anyone except you. Shaky fingers tap on the screen of his phone, typing out his response before he clicks the send button.
[𝟷:𝟺𝟸 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʏᴇs ɪ ᴅɪᴅ
[𝟷:𝟺𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʜᴏᴡ ᴅɪᴅ ɪᴛ ғᴇᴇʟ ʙᴀʙʏ?
His heart quickens when he reads the sentence. It wasn’t uncommon for you to call him pet names, but it usually meant he was in for the night. And probably on your good side.
[𝟷:𝟺𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ɢᴏᴏᴅ. ʀʟʏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴀᴄᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ.
[𝟷:𝟺𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴏʜ ᴄᴍᴏɴ ʙᴀʙʏ... ɪs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴀʟʟ?
[𝟷:𝟺𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ɴᴏ ɪ
[𝟷:𝟺𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ɪ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ... ʀᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ᴍʏsᴇʟғ ᴛᴡɪᴄᴇ
A blush appears on Jungkook’s cheeks almost immediately after he types out the message. No matter how many times he’s texted you the most indecent and lewd words, he’ll probably never be able to fight the shyness that accompanies it.
[𝟷:𝟺𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴏʜ?
[𝟷:𝟺𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ʙᴀʙʏ… ᴀʀᴇ ᴜ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ɪᴛ?
Jungkook glances down at his bare thighs, where the thin fabric wraps around his hips. He gulps.
[𝟷:𝟺𝟿 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʏᴇs.
[𝟷:𝟻𝟶 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: [ɪᴍᴀɢᴇ𝟶𝟾𝟹𝟺.ᴊᴘɢ]
There’s a moment where your mouth hangs open, watering at the sight of his salacious thighs. But, the thin black lace barely covering his prominent bulge is what makes you squeeze your thighs together. If his texts weren’t enough to show how desperate he was for you, this unexpected picture definitely got the point across. God, he was such a—
[𝟷:𝟻𝟷 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ɢᴏᴏᴅ ʙᴏʏ.
[𝟷:𝟻𝟷 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ʙᴀʙʏ
[𝟷:𝟻𝟷 ᴀ.ᴍ.]sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴜ ᴇᴀʀɴᴇᴅ ɪᴛ
Jungkook's heart throbs, or is that his dick? Either way, it's almost humiliating how easy it is for you to rile him up from a few words. You just had that effect on him. And, god, did he fucking love it.
[𝟷:𝟻𝟸 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴜᴍ
[𝟷:𝟻𝟸 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴜ
[𝟷:𝟻𝟸 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴘʟssss :(
This was... new. Usually, you only allow him to be the one receiving all the attention and pleasure. Despite the waning professionalism in your relationship, this was still your job. It was only after your sessions that you'd grant yourself to come to the fresh memory of his whining and pleading. But who were you to deny him?
[𝟷:𝟻𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ...ᴏᴋ ʙᴀʙʏ
[𝟷:𝟻𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʀ ᴜ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ʜᴀʀᴅ ʏᴇᴛ ʙᴀʙʏ?
[𝟷:𝟻𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʏᴇs. ʙᴇᴇɴ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴀʟʟ ᴅᴀʏ 𝟺 ᴜ…
His fingers itch, his cock aching for any form of relief, but he knows better than to do anything without your permission. Besides, you make it all worth it in the end.
[𝟷:𝟻𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ 𝟸 ᴛɪᴍᴇs 𝟸ᴅᴀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴜ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴡɴᴛ ᴍᴏʀᴇ?
[𝟷:𝟻𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: sᴏ ғᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴇᴅʏ, ʜᴜʜ?
[𝟷:𝟻𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʏᴋ ᴡʜᴀᴛ 𝟸 ᴅᴏ ʙᴀʙʏ ʙᴏʏ
nj_94 has sent 3,000 hearts!
[𝟷:𝟻𝟽 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇᴇᴇ
You laugh breathlessly despite the wetness building between your thighs at his begging. Your hand slips behind your back, unclipping your bralette before slipping it off and throwing it somewhere in your room. You angle the camera so that only the top half of your body shows before snapping the picture.
[𝟷:𝟻𝟿 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: [ɪᴍᴀɢᴇ𝟶𝟾𝟹𝟻.ᴊᴘɢ]
Fuck. Jungkook can’t take his eyes off of the image of your bare chest. Your hand sits right above the band of your thin panties, before the image cuts off. There’s a teasing glint in your eyes as you bite your lip, staring straight into the camera. Jungkook can’t help it, he whines. His hand is pulling the black panties down to his mid thigh before he can think. He sighs at the feeling, grabbing the strawberry lube -your favorite- from his nightstand drawer and squirting a generous amount into his palm. He begins to leisurely stroke his member before a ping! from his phone interrupts him.
[𝟸:𝟶𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴍʏ ᴘɪᴄᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴜᴄʜ?
[𝟸:𝟶𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ғғᴄᴋ ᴏғ ᴄᴏᴜʀs. ᴜʀ sᴏ ғᴜᴄᴋɴɢ ʜᴏᴛᴛ
[𝟸:𝟶𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴡɪsʜ ɪ ᴡs ᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡ ᴜ
You wish so too. To have him begging to touch you, to feel you, right in front of you? Fuck, it definitely did things to you. He did things to you. And you wanted to show him.
[𝟸:𝟶𝟿 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: [ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ𝟶𝟾𝟹𝟼.ᴍᴘ𝟺]
Jungkook’s hand falters when he sees you’ve sent a video. Not that it was uncommon, but usually he’d have to send hearts first. But, he decides not to question it, instead choosing to click on the video. It takes a few moments to load, but once the first few seconds start playing, Jungkook’s mouth drops.
Your fingers are in your mouth, sucking and lathering them in spit before they trail down your body and under the fabric of your thin panties. Jungkook doesn’t need to see it, no, he can hear how wet you are. The sounds of your soft moaning and your fingers entering you drive Jungkook utterly wild, and he finds himself whimpering. He can’t stop watching the way you bite your lips and giggle, as if you knew exactly what you were doing to him. Of course you knew.
Jungkook replays the video, deliberate strokes of his hand sounding through the quietness of his room. “F-fuck, ____... what are you doing to me...” There’s another ping! that seems to reverberate in his head, and Jungkook slows his movements before he can get too lost in the endless ocean of his thoughts.
[𝟸:𝟷𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: sᴘᴇᴇᴄʜʟᴇss, ʙᴀʙʏ?
[𝟸:𝟷𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴏʀ ʀ ᴜ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜɪɴɢ ᴜʀsᴇʟғ ʙᴄ ᴏғ ᴍᴇ?
[𝟸:𝟷𝟿 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ғғᴄᴋ ɪ ᴄɴᴛ ʜᴇʟᴘ ᴍʏsᴇʟғ
[𝟸:𝟷𝟿 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴜʀ sᴏ ғᴜᴄᴋɴ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛғʟʟ
[𝟸:𝟸𝟶 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴄᴀɴ ɪ sɴᴇᴅ sᴍᴛʜɴ ɴ ʙᴀᴄᴋ?
[𝟸:𝟸𝟶 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴏғᴄ ʙᴀʙʏ
A few minutes pass before your phone finally vibrates, your screen lighting up with a new message.
[𝟸:𝟸𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: [ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ𝟶𝟼𝟽.ᴍᴘ𝟺]
You hesitate for a bit, biting your lip before you press play. The sound of his hand fervently sliding up and down his shaft fills your ears, soft whines of pleasure slipping through the speaker of your phone. If you weren't turned on before, you definitely were now. Your hand travels down your body, slipping underneath your panties. Gasping at the pool of your wetness, your hand moves along your clit expertly as his hand slides along the mess of precum and red lube. Strawberry.
Right as the video is reaching the last ten seconds, your hands speed up against your heat. Your thoughts are clouded, lidded eyes staring at nj_94’s huge cock. Right before the video ends, you hear his voice, muttering nonsense, but that isn’t what makes you cease your motions. “F-fuck, ____, see what you do to me.”
It’s clear he doesn't realize he’s said your name, your actual name. But that's not even the weirdest part. No, because the voice sounds too familiar to you. Similar to the voice of— ping!
nj_94 has sent 5,000 hearts!
[𝟸:𝟹𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ғᴄᴋ ɪᴍ ᴄʟᴏᴇs
[𝟸:𝟹𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʟᴛᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴄᴜᴍᴍ
[𝟸:𝟹𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴘʟssss?
[𝟸:𝟹𝟽 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: [ɪᴍᴀɢᴇ𝟶𝟾𝟹𝟽.ᴊᴘᴇɢ]
The still image of your drenching core is enough for Jungkook to spill his seed all over his hand. His hand slows as he pumps the last spurts of his cum, chest heaving harshly. He grabs a couple of tissues from his nightstand, using it to clean the cum off of his fingers.
[𝟸:𝟺𝟷 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ
[𝟸:𝟺𝟸 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴏғ sᴇʀᴠɪᴄᴇ ʙᴀʙʏ ʙᴏʏ
[𝟸:𝟺𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼:,, ɪᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ
sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼 ɪs ᴛʏᴘɪɴɢ...
sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼 ɪs ᴛʏᴘɪɴɢ...
Jungkook’s head is spinning, but he doesn’t think it’s from the breathtaking orgasm you had just given him. He’s on edge as he watches the little typing bubble appear and disappear multiple times. What could you possibly be ‘thinking’ about? Were you thinking of ending this whole thing? Oh god, were you thinking of—!
[𝟸:𝟺𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴀᴍ ɪ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴋɴᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴜ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ʟɪᴋᴇ?
No, this was definitely much worse. Jungkook never would have guessed how far this would have gone when he first impulsively texted you all those months ago. After the first two months, when the sexting had turned into a regular thing, he knew you’d eventually grow curious. He knew you’d eventually ask. And, god, does he wish he had the fucking balls to tell you.
Jungkook would be lying if he said this hadn’t turned into something more than just sexting. At least for him. He wasn’t really sure how you felt about him, though sometimes the things you’d say when you were coaxing him into an orgasm would go to his head, and he’d think, if only for a moment, that maybe, just maybe, you felt something more as well.
But after he’d come down from his high, and come down back to reality, Jungkook knew it was just wishful thinking. How could you have feelings for someone you’ve never met, never seen? Even if you did, it wasn’t Jungkook you felt something for, it was nj_94. Which, yes technically was him, but not to you. You probably thought it was, well, literally anyone except your nerd of a neighbor who was too much of a coward to tell you who he was. What the hell would he even tell you? How the hell would he tell you?
“Oh, hey, _____! You know that guy you’ve been sexting consistently through Cybersex for four months? Well, surprise! It’s been me the entire goddamn time!”
SLAP!
Yet, even in the safety of his imagination, you're fuming, ears blowing steam as you slam the door in his face. A demand to never speak to you again, and Jungkook sinks into the floor from shame and embarrassment. Sometimes, you’d laugh in his face, disbelieving, or worse, unwanting of him.
Jungkook’s mind was a weird and ghastly place.
He doesn’t know how long he’s been staring at your message, but he sees you’ve gone offline, probably tired of waiting for him to reply. His thumbs hover over the keypad of his phone, but he can’t bring himself to say anything, not even to jokingly brush you off. There have been many moments before where you’ve brought up what nj_94 looks like, but somehow this time it feels different. Jungkook can’t pin down the feeling coiling in his stomach, so he does what he does best.
He ignores it.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
The blaring sound of your alarm fills the once quiet room, ripping you away from your peaceful slumber, and you groan loudly into your pillow. Your hand fumbles around your nightstand as you try to blindly reach for your phone. Once you're able to turn off your alarm, you hear the pounding at the door. You lift your head, able to make out muffled calls of your name through your clouded mind. Who the fuck is trying to knock the door down so early in the morning?
You choose to bury your face in your pillows again, shifting the duvet over your head in order to block out the noise. Reaching for your phone once again, your eyes take a moment to adjust to the bright screen, and- oh, shit, you’re running late... again.
You throw the covers off your body, almost falling over the heap of clothes strewn over your bedroom floor. The knocking continues, and you rush out of your room, throwing the door open without sparing another glance at who’s standing at your doorstep.
“Give me five minutes!”
The figure chuckles, entering the threshold as you run back to your bedroom to throw on something presentable. “Rough night?” he says, voice sounding muffled through the closed door.
You laugh breathlessly, “More like rough weekend.” but you’re sure your voice is too quiet to be heard. Hastily brushing your teeth, you attempt to slip on your sweatpants at once. Following your successful multitasking and finishing your morning routine in record time, you emerge from your bedroom. Grabbing your keys and book bag from the living room, you pad over to the shoe rack near the front door.
“Wow, you should start waking up late every day if you’re gonna get ready this fast.”
You roll your eyes turning to shoot Jungkook a glare, “Don’t worry, I’ll start taking my time now just for you.”
Not waiting for a response, you open the door, gesturing for him to exit. He curtsies before he begins walking down the hallway to the elevator, you following closely behind.
-----
There’s something different about you today.
You’re quiet, gazing into the distance as you both walk to the coffee shop a few blocks away from your university campus. He tries to think nothing of it, chalking it up to the sleepiness still wearing off from the early morning. But usually you’d be pointing out random things on the street, or teasing Jungkook endlessly. And maybe he might miss the (albeit playful and meaningless) flirting, but he’d never say that out loud.
You reach the shop without a word, the sound of the city waking up and Jungkook’s boots hitting the pavement the only source of noise between you. When you reach the cashier, you’re still dazed, and if Jungkook didn’t know your order by heart (something he also would never admit), you’d probably forgo ordering anything.
Despite noticing all the things off today, Jungkook decides to not ask. He really doesn't want to push you to talk. And you’d come to him if there was something really bothering you.
At least that’s what Jungkook tried to do, but when you continue to be off in your own world, unknowingly ignoring his attempts at making conversation, he decides fuck that. And even though Jungkook would deny, again, if anyone would ever ask him, he does care deeply for you. Anything bothering you, bothers him.
“Alright, what’s up?” he asks, trying to seem casual despite rethinking the words a thousand times in his head.
“Huh?” you blink, coming back down to earth. “What do you mean?”
Jungkook sends you a disbelieving look, “You know what I mean. I asked you three times if you wanted a piece of my cheese danish, and you haven’t said a word since we left your apartment. So, what’s up?”
You duck your head, suddenly feeling bashful for ignoring Jungkook, but you haven’t been able to stop thinking about... him since the weird conversation you had on Friday. And to make matters worse, the fucker has been ignoring you. The only times he has bothered to text, was only to cancel your Saturday night appointment, despite the money already being transferred to your account. And when you tried to send it back, he declined the request without a word. Everything that he does leaves you more confused than before, and now you’re left to deal with these gross feelings building inside you.
Because even if you’re trying to ignore it, and him, as much as possible, your stupid brain can’t help thinking about all the sessions you’ve had with him, and all the mundane conversations that crossed the strictly business and purely sexual line. It was all too much, and you wished you could make sense of at least some of it, but now he won’t even talk to you. You can’t help thinking that maybe you had imagined it all. That maybe you had somehow convinced yourself that he felt the same way you did.
Or maybe he felt that it was becoming too much, too intimate, too serious, and wanted nothing to do with it. But even then, why couldn’t he have just told you that? Why did he have to fucking ghost you, for crying out loud? Why did-!
“Hello? Earth to _____!”
You blink, eyes focusing on the hand waving in front of your face. “Fuck, did I do it again?”
Jungkook chuckles, and you try to ignore the way your heart skips a beat. What the hell is up with you today? “Seriously, is everything okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just…” you hesitate, because what would you even call this? The whole situation is weird if you were to explain it to, well, literally anyone else. Not to mention the fact that Jungkook thinks you work as a coder from home. ��Boy problems.”
Jungkook clears his throat, averting his eyes and choosing to focus on the grey concrete beneath him. “O-oh,” and as much as he doesn’t want to know about the other guy who’s got you so in your head, he still asks, “do you want to talk about it?”
You’re quiet for a moment, and Jungkook thinks that you might not say anything, that you might brush him off. He almost sighs in relief but then-
“Well, there’s this guy, and well- uhm,” you stare at the iced coffee in your hands, contemplating how to word your thoughts without actually spilling your secret. “We’ve never actually met, or anything, but we’ve been talking through this,” you pause again, glancing at Jungkook, whose jaw is clenched, “dating site. And well, we’ve been talking for about four months...”
Jungkook almost trips over his own feet whipping his head to look at you. You’re still talking, but now his brain is hazy and he can't think straight. No... you couldn’t... you’re not... you can’t be... you can’t be talking about... him, right? There’s... there’s no way. It has to be someone else. It has to be a coincidence that almost everything you’re saying sounds exactly like your relationship with... nj_94. Right? Right, of course, you’re definitely talking about someone else and it’s all in his-!
“...and when i asked, if uh, i’d ever get to see him, he kinda ghosted me, so, yeah.” you laugh nervously, noting the way Jungkook hasn't said a thing.
But, Jungkook is more sure than ever that you’re talking about him, well, not him, but nj_94, which technically- ok, you know what? It doesn’t matter because he feels nauseous and he’s sure he’s about to empty the contents of his stomach right here on campus in front of everyone. And now you’re looking at him with worry in those beautiful gleaming eyes of yours and oh, god, he needs to do something, anything to make this go away. Jungkook opens the lid of his coffee, taking a huge gulp without thinking anything of it because- OH FUCK!
IT’S FUCKING SCALDING. OH, GOD HIS TONGUE IS FUCKING BURNING AND HE’S SPUTTERING AND SPITTING THE COFFEE BACK OUT AND FUCK, IS HE SWEATING? IT’S SIXTY FUCKING DEGREES OUTSIDE AND HE’S SWEATING? NOW YOU’RE LOOKING AT HIM WITH CONCERN IN THOSE BEAUTIFUL GLEAMING EYES- wait, isn’t that the exact reason he’s stuck in this situation? God, what were you doing to him?
Jungkook barely registers the fact that you’ve both stopped walking, and are standing underneath one of the big trees on your campus. There’s a hand on his shoulder, and he realizes through his mess of a mind that it's yours.
“Jesus, Kook, are you okay?”
“Mhm,” he says, like a liar because no, he’s not okay, far from it actually. Because you’re fucking talking about him, and you don’t even fucking know it. God, the last thing he wanted was to make you feel like this. Truthfully, Jungkook doesn't exactly know why he’s been ignoring you. It was in a panic that he had cancelled your next session, afraid to talk to you after the sucker move he had pulled Friday night.
And he knows, he fucking knows that avoiding it is just making it worse. And that it won't go away, no matter how much he tries to ignore it. Jungkook is at a loss for what to do, and it's not like he could go to his friends to ask for help. This whole situation was too fucking absurd to even bother explaining. But if there was one good thing coming from this, it was learning that you did actually care about him, or...erm...nj_94, at the very least. Sure, there were almost a million other things Jungkook had to figure out, but hey, he’ll cross that bridge when he gets there.
Jungkook unconsciously pouts, willing the tingling on his tongue to go away. He’s too busy glaring at the offending coffee in his hands to notice the way your worried stare turns into one of suspicion, if only for a moment.
“Awww, do you want me to make it better?”
His head whips up at that, eyes widening at your words. Innocent and insignificant, yet Jungkook can’t help but think of the videos where you use the same tone. He’s sure that he’s completely forgotten the scalding burn on his tongue now. And it’s then that he sees it. The amused glint in your eyes, and the way your lips are pursed, seemingly holding back a laugh.
You’re making fun of him.
Jungkook scoffs, pushing your hand off his shoulder. You offer him the ice in your now empty cup, but he only rolls his eyes. You both toss your drinks in the can next to you, continuing the walk to your morning class.
And he tries to act upset, he really does, but when he sees you start to laugh, he can’t help but do the same.
[ :: ENTER... the (cyber)boy of your dreams ::]
There’s a familiar ping! that sounds through your bedroom, making you run out of your bathroom, toothbrush hanging from your mouth as you reach for your charging phone.
[𝟷𝟷:𝟹𝟸 ᴘ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ᴄᴀɴ ɪ ᴊᴜsᴛ sᴀʏ ʜᴏᴡ ғᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛɪғᴜʟ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴏᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴠɪᴅ ʟᴀsᴛ ɴɪɢʜᴛ?
Trying to ignore the slight pang of disappointment in your chest, you roll your eyes at his compliment. Typing out a response, you hit send before chucking your phone across your bed, huffing as you plop onto your mattress.
[𝟷𝟷:𝟹𝟹 ᴘ.ᴍ] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴅᴏ ᴜ sᴇɴᴅ ᴛʜɪs ᴛᴏ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ɢɪʀʟ ɪɴ ᴜʀ ɪɴʙᴏx?
[𝟷𝟷:𝟹𝟹 ᴘ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴀʙʏ ;)
Jimin was a bit of an icon in the cybersex world, adored by fans and other cyberboys alike. His videos centered on a more… demanding persona, which is what got him his mass audience. It obviously worked in his favor, if a peek at his account was anything to go by.
ParkJimin
@mincams
1,500,000 monthly viewers / 10,183,209 hearts
Most Popular: be a good girl, would you? / 7,937,937 views
And while a lot of cyberboys faked their personalities on screen, everything Jimin did had a sense of genuinity, and there was no doubt he was just as dominating in real life as he was on camera. You’d know better than anyone.
Jimin had begun texting you a few months ago, right when your videos had begun charting. It definitely took you by surprise, having only been messaged by two other cybergirls asking where you had bought your lingerie. And seeing his immense following only made you question it even more. What did he want to do with you when there were so many others who were more... on his level?
Yet, despite you sometimes disregarding his messages due to the suspicion you had in the early weeks, there would still be a text from him every Wednesday without a doubt. This obviously led to you, eventually, texting him back, if only to satiate your curiosity. And well, he was definitely... intriguing, considering the fact that you’ve been speaking ever since. Though, your ‘acquaintance’ with him has definitely crossed that line of playful flirtiness and frisky texting.
Cyber fuck buddies was probably the best way to describe your relationship with Jimin now. One lonely, frustrating late night had led to you and Jimin exchanging some very lewd thoughts with each other. And yes, although you had broken your second rule of being a cybergirl, the intense orgasm Jimin had given you was enough for you to... tweak them a bit.
See, at the beginning of your Cybersex journey, you had set rules for yourself, if only to make your job easier. And rule number two was to never get involved with a cyberboy. And, really, you were doing a great job at ignoring them completely, then Jimin had managed to slip his way into your life. But could you really blame yourself? Jimin was fucking hot, and you had your own desires that needed to be satisfied every once in a while. When he had just offered himself up, what were you supposed to do? Say no? It’s not like you were fucking him in real life anyway.
So, you changed that rule to never fuck a cyberboy. Harder to actually break and straight to the point. And yet... here you were, thinking of bringing none other than Park fucking Cyberboy Jimin onto your next show.
And you know, it sounds fucking stupid because what the hell? Did you not go over your own rules just now? But Jimin was the only one that could (possibly) help you in this very... unique situation. And, no, you were not gonna fuck him. Despite how much you’ve bent your rules, you were still going to try to respect them. Besides, you had other plans for him.
Like you mentioned before, Jimin was as demanding in his videos as in real life. Yet, there he’d be, in your direct messages, damn near begging for an opportunity to film a video with you.
Who would have thought that Park Jimin, the one who has everyone begging for him, actually wanted to be on his knees for you.
And at first it was easy to brush it off as a meaningless joke. Hell, you’d even respond back with a quip of your own. But when he actually explained himself, you had to say, all his points were very convincing. Something about gaining a bigger platform and a more ‘enlightening’ sexual experience. But, you had never brought anyone on your channel, and honestly, you had brushed the idea of a ‘partnership’ with him to the back of your mind. That is, until now.
Now, you needed him more than ever, for your own reasons.
[𝟸:𝟸𝟸 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ɪs ᴜʀ ᴏғғᴇʀ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴜᴘ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ... ᴄᴏʟʟᴀʙᴏʀᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴊᴇᴄᴛ?
[𝟸:𝟸𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ɪ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ’ᴅ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴀsᴋ
[𝟸:𝟸𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ᴏғ ᴄᴏᴜʀsᴇ ɪᴛ ɪs
[𝟸:𝟸𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴛʜᴇɴ ɪ’ʟʟ ᴅᴏ ɪᴛ.
[𝟸:𝟸𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴄᴏɴᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴs.
[𝟷𝟸:𝟸4 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ sʀs?
[𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: sᴜʀᴇ...ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ғᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ
[𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ɪᴍ ɪɴ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ
[𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ɴ ᴡᴇ ғɪʟᴍ ᴀᴛ ᴍʏ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ᴛʜɪs sᴀᴛ.
[𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴅᴇᴀʟ?
[𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟽 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ʏᴏᴜ ᴅʀɪᴠᴇ ᴀ ʜᴀʀᴅ ʙᴀʀɢᴀɪɴ, sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ.
ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs ɪs ᴛʏᴘɪɴɢ...
ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs ɪs ᴛʏᴘɪɴɢ...
[𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟽 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ��ᴇᴀʟ.
[𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: sᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ sᴀᴛᴜʀᴅᴀʏ ;)
The buzz of quiet conversation fills the room, accompanied by the sounds of the documentary playing on the projector that no one could be seen paying attention to. Even the professor seemed to be falling asleep grading papers near the corner of the room. There were excited whispers of a party later tonight, but you, you were ecstatic for reasons completely different.
“Pssst! Jungkook!”
Jungkook lifts his head, looking around before he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns around and almost jumps back in shock from how close your face is to his.
“Uh, yeah?” he whispers back.
There’s something in your smile that throws him off, demure and something else he can’t seem to figure out. Maybe Jungkook pays too much attention to anything you do. Fuck, you're driving him crazy just sitting there.
“Are you doing anything tomorrow?”
“Uh, no... why?” he stutters, and maybe it’s just the dark lighting in the room, but he swears he sees your eyes gleam.
“No reason,” you respond, leaning your head against your hand. Your other hand comes to toy with the necklace sitting around your neck. “But I’d advise you to stay home this weekend.”
His eyes widen. What the fuck? Did Jungkook hear you correctly? Or is he starting to hear things too? What the hell are you doing to him? “W-what?”
“I don’t know if you’ve heard about the... show,” you make sure to look right into his eyes, “playing tomorrow night. I heard it was going to be really special.”
Jungkook blinks multiple times, sure the confusion and shock is written on his face as he stares at you. Fuck, he doesn’t know if he heard you correctly, and he’s too afraid to ask. He’s only able to dumbly murmur a “what?”
You only smile, no indication that those words had actually left your mouth. Except the fact that Jungkook had seen it. “There’s supposed to be a storm tomorrow. It’s not safe to go out.”
The lights flicker back on, and students begin to get up to leave the lecture hall. Jungkook is glued to his chair, staring at the desk you had just been sitting in. He’s too stunned to even bother thinking of a response, but luckily (or unluckily) you don’t seem to mind it. Instead you rise from your seat, swinging your bag over your shoulder.
“I’ll see you later, Jungkook.”
He glances up, swallowing hard at the coy grin on your face. Jungkook can’t help but follow your movement, watching as you pause at the door. You turn your head, making sure that you meet his eyes once again before winking at him. You take your leave, disappearing down the hallway but lingering in Jungkook’s mind.
There was... no way you knew, right? He’d been so careful not to let anything slip. Maybe you were talking about a TV show? As much as Jungkook tried to tell himself that it was all in his head, that no, you didn’t know about his not-so-little secret, somewhere, in the back of his mind, a voice kept telling him that it was futile.
He’s embarrassed to admit that once he gets into the safety of his apartment, he runs to his computer, biting his nails as he waits for it to turn on. Jungkook clicks on the pink heart icon in the corner of his home screen, inputting his memorized account information.
USERNAME: nj_94
PASSWORD: boyzwithfun97
Jungkook hasn’t logged onto Cybersex since last Saturday, but searching for your name is like clockwork. Right as he clicks on your profile, he sees you’ve made a new post. Usually, Fridays were the days you went live, but apparently things were different tonight.
[9 MINUTES AGO] SWEETHEART666 said:
no live tonight, babes. vv special video coming tomorrow <3.
Yeah, he was completely and utterly fucked.
[ :: JOINING... the valley ::]
Jungkook doesn’t know how to feel.
He doesn’t even know what to expect. It’s finally Saturday, well Saturday morning and Jungkook finds himself lying in his bed, staring blankly at his ceiling. He’s already dreading the day, knowing that all that would be on his mind today would be you, and your stupid, vague words with your stupid smirk and, fuck, let’s just be real for a second; Jungkook has never been more mortified in his twenty-three years of living. Though if anyone were to ask, he’d say he’s doing fucking peachy, like the liar he is.
He hasn’t seen you since yesterday when you almost gave him a stroke from those borderline seductive words of yours. Fuck, a “show”? What else could you possibly mean? Did you know that he watched your videos? For Jungkook’s sake, he prays to whoever is up there that that’s all you know. The walls of the apartments are thin, thin enough for Jungkook to hear you moaning every time you film, and definitely flimsy enough for you to catch the sound of your name tumbling from his lips almost every goddamn time he comes. But, god, does he really wish he knew how you felt about everything. Instead of leaving him in the dark, he wished you would have at least told him you weren't angry at him for watching your videos in secret.
Oh, how things have taken a turn.
Something Jungkook is great at is pushing away his feelings. Which, in hindsight, has definitely never ever gone even remotely in his favor. Does that stop him from burying it all down? No. But it definitely has taught him ways to distract himself from anything and everything. And one of his favorite distractions is working out. In the gym located in the lower level of his apartment complex, he’s able to filter out the world, his thoughts, and throw all the shit he’s pushed down onto the treadmill. He focuses on the loud drumming of his playlist, pressing down on the arrow button until he’s completely drenched in sweat, panting from the thirty-minute sprint. Then it's weight lifting, which isn't as distracting as he’d like it to be, but if he turns his music up louder, he can't hear the way his brain is screaming at him to just! make! sense! of! his! feelings!
But it only lasts a short hour and a half during the workout. Now, all Jungkook can focus on is the way he hasn't ridden this elevator with you in what seems like forever, and how much he misses talking to you, even if it's just as nj_94. He wonders if maybe he’ll catch sight of you walking back from doing your laundry like he always does when he comes back from his Saturday workouts. Much to his dismay, there’s no sight of you when the elevator reaches your shared floor. His shoulders deflate, and he walks with his head down, feeling completely pathetic.
It’s only when he’s a few feet away from your apartment entrance that he spots the unfamiliar man leaning against your door. He’s poised, aura oozing with confidence and nonchalance. Jungkook slows his walking. Who the hell was he?
The man in question turns his head slightly, and consequently makes direct eye contact with Jungkook. Jungkook feels his eyes widen at how attractive this man was. But, honestly, he would be more surprised if he saw you with someone who looked any less than a fucking god amongst mortals. The man looks Jungkook up and down, plump lips shifting into a smirk before he tilts his head. Jungkook tenses, throwing him a quick nod of the head. His smile widens before the door to your apartment opens, and he walks in, disappearing as quickly as the door shuts.
Great, the last chance he had to see you before tonight was gone. No questions answered, but it was fine. Everything was fine. All he had to do was wait a bit more. Jungkook glances at his watch, sighing loudly before inputting the code, rather harshly, to his apartment.
Only five more hours.
Five minutes.
Jungkook has lost count of how many times he’s refreshed your profile page. He probably looks as crazy as he feels waiting for the clock to hit eleven. He doesn't know what he’s feeling. Excited? Unnerved? Terrified? Jungkook's willing to bet it might be all three.
The minutes seem to go agonizingly slow as if taunting him. The ticking of the clock above his bed threatens to send him into overdrive. He has half a mind to rip it from the nail on the wall and throw it across the room. Even the soft rain hitting his bedroom window makes him want to scream. But he knows every jumbled thought crossing his mind is just an attempt to distract him from the absolute fear he’s feeling right now.
Then finally, finally, after the umpteenth time Jungkook has refreshed the page, right when he feels he's about to implode and have his insides turn into mush, it appears. Right as the shorthand hits eleven.
● [LIVE!] ur fav boy on his knees... w/ a special surprise <3
by Sweetheart666
2,039 viewing now
Jungkook swears he feels his heart stop beating, and he almost doesn't click on the live, he almost shuts his laptop and walks to the corner of his bedroom to rethink his actions in shame.
Almost.
The sight is familiar, one of your dimly-lit bedroom and a king-sized bed freshly made with black satin sheets. It’s a view Jungkook has grown all too accustomed to, after spending countless late nights watching you come undone under the same light. But tonight, everything has him on edge. Even the sensual music playing quietly in the background makes his heart rate increase.
It takes another minute before you appear in frame, wearing that damned smirk on your face again. But now there’s a flash of something he can’t seem to name, that flickers in your eyes. Jungkook must either be losing his mind, or the camera was playing tricks. You greet everyone in that same sweet voice of yours, as you always do in every video. You wait a few more moments for more viewers to join, toying with the heart that hangs on the chain wrapped around your neck. Everything seemed normal so far, and for a split second, Jungkook is able to breathe again. But before his thoughts could get any further, he comes into the frame.
“Everyone, this is Minnie. You might know him as Jimin, or mincams. He’s the first person I’ve ever brought on my channel, so please be nice to him...”
The same guy that had been standing outside of your apartment door. Jungkook should’ve connected the dots. It was all right in front of his fucking eyes, yet he was too in his feelings to even realize it. This was your ‘special surprise’.
Jimin’s face is eerily familiar, and Jungkook realizes that it’s not from the fleeting hallway interaction. No, he’s definitely seen him on the trending page of Cybersex multiple times. He doesn’t know how he didn’t recognize him at first, having clicked on his videos out of curiosity before. He briefly wonders how Jimin, the ever dominating and controlling Cyberboy, was so willing to get on his knees for you. Then again, Jungkook knew better than to doubt your authority over anyone.
“...unless, of course, he misbehaves.”
Jungkook almost chokes on his spit, mind failing to grasp the last few words that had tumbled from your mouth. Had he heard you right? Judging by the way Jimin’s eyes light up, he’s gonna take a wild guess and say that yes, this was going exactly where Jungkook thought it was. He looks down at his pants. Jungkook was definitely more excited than terrified now.
You stand from your spot on the floor, but Jimin stays kneeled right where he is, eyes following your movement behind the camera. Jungkook glances at the growing number of viewers, half probably from Jimin’s own audience. Just one look at the comments, he notes that this is definitely something his fans had been waiting for.
“Sit on the bed. Strip down to your underwear.”
Even though he knows your words aren’t directed at him, Jungkook’s dick has a mind of its own. Sure, he’s watched the way you dominate during your solo shows, but seeing you order about another man, fuck, does it do things to Jungkook.
He watches as Jimin obeys immediately, sitting on the edge of the bed and almost ripping his shirt in his haste to please you. You walk into frame again, holding a piece of fabric in one hand. You trace your fingers over the slope of his nose, past his lips, and down the length of his neck. “Such a pretty face. Shame I have to cover it...” you pout, though your eyes are shining with mischief. Your hands bring the silk scarf around his eyes, tying it behind his head.
Jungkook puts his hand over his growing bulge as you guide Jimin further back onto your bed. You turn him to the side, both of your bodies perfectly lining up with the camera. Fuck, is it driving Jungkook absolutely wild knowing that this was all happening just on the other side of the wall behind him. God, the things he’d do to be in Jimin’s place. Or just be there in person.
You’re on his lap now, nipping at his neck as Jimin’s soft moans filter through the speakers of his computer. Your hands, however, are kept at your side, only making Jimin’s pleas for your touch more desperate. Yet, you give into none of it. Pulling away from him, but not without another whine from the blinded man, you grin. “So whiny.”
Jungkook pauses his clothed palming, waiting with bated breath as you go behind the camera once again. The sight of Jimin’s flushed cheeks and harsh breathing makes his dick harden impossibly more. You appear in frame, this time with an unfamiliar object in your hand. Your hand goes to Jimin’s chest, and he jumps from surprise, then immediately after whines at your soft caresses. Once his nipple stiffens, your other hand clamps the pink clip onto it, prompting a gasp from both Jimin and Jungkook.
Jungkook watches as you adjust the tightness while struggling to pull down his pants laying down. Jimin looks even more flustered than before, hands digging into the flesh of his thighs. “Does it feel okay?” he hears you whisper, and Jimin nods eagerly. You chuckle, “Use your words, baby.”
“Yes,” Jimin’s voice is strangled, and Jungkook can see the painful swell of his cock outline through the camera lens. “It’s perfect.”
“Good.” you pat his cheek before pushing him to lie down on his back. Another piece of fabric comes to wrap around Jimin’s wrists, placing them above his head. You climb over his body, opting to lay over his thighs, just below his prominent erection. “Tell me, baby,” Jungkook’s eyes catch the matching pink remote in your hand and the smirk on your face. Your thumb presses down on the button, and the sudden sounds of buzzing mixed with Jimin whining sets Jungkook’s skin ablaze. “Is it ok if I use you for tonight?”
“F-fuck, y-yes, p-please use me, sweetheart.”
Jungkook has his hand on his shaft, leisurely stroking as he watches you press the button once again. The humming stops, but Jimin is left gasping, back arching off the sheets. The sight spurs Jungkook further, and he brings his own hand to his erect nipples, pinching hard. You move to straddle Jimin’s thigh before lifting the other clamp to his mouth. “Open up, baby.”
Jimin quickly complies, opening his mouth wide enough for your index finger and thumb to enter. His lips wrap snugly around them, sucking until you tap his cheek. Your fingers and the clamp emerge drenched in his spit, but Jungkook only gets a glance before you’re shoving them beneath your thin mesh slip-on. The clamps come to life once again, you and Jimin releasing simultaneous moans of ecstasy.
There’s a thin sheen of sweat building on Jungkook’s skin as he pumps himself harder, whining at the sight. God, he’s never wanted to be beneath you as much as he wants to now. He watches as you press the remote once again, giggling quietly at Jimin’s complaining. Jungkook stops his stroking, despite how much he wants to continue, realizing he’d probably make himself come unintentionally. And he could tell you were just getting started.
Your hand trails down the expanse of his chest, trailing down his toned stomach before stopping right above the place Jimin wants you the most. Your touches are playful, teasing as you use your other hand to reattach the wet clip on Jimin’s bare nipple. Jimin gasps when you press your hand down on his erection. “Nngh, sweetheart. It hurts.” he pouts, and Jungkook is almost sure if he wasn’t blindfolded, he’d be giving you puppy eyes.
But you’re inexorable.
“Awww, do you want me to make it better, baby?” you’re still talking to Jimin, but you look straight at the camera, and at Jungkook, as you say it, lashes fluttering.
Now that makes Jungkook cease his motions. Even in his hunger-ridden mind, the words feel strangely familiar, like he’s heard them before, but in a different situation. Jungkook can’t seem to remember, but the thought disappears as quickly as it came. You’ve left Jimin alone on the bed again, standing beside as you slowly strip yourself of your underwear. Hearts blow up the screen as you smirk at the camera. “Everyone’s so needy today, huh?”
You crawl up next to Jimin, tracing your fingers lightly over his toned chest. “You could probably come from these alone.” Jimin voices his pleading objections, desperate to feel your hands elsewhere, but you leave his side once again, walking closer to the camera. “Hmm, let’s ask your fans what they think.”
There’s no need to even glance at the video chat, because your laugh says it all. “Looks like they want you like this, Minnie.” He arches his back of the bed, attempting to plead with you for more stimulation. “Nnngh, please, sweetheart.” Yet you only giggle quietly. Your hand reaches for the remote off to the side before you turn the clamps on once again. Jimin’s breathy moans are loud, loud enough to filter through your shared wall, and Jungkook gulps.
Leaving Jimin alone on the bed once again, you emerge with a silver bowl in your hand. You crawl onto his thighs again, clicking the button and halting Jimin’s pleasure. Your fingers pick up an ice cube before tracing it down his chest. Jimin shivers at the coolness, but otherwise stays quiet, waiting for your next move. When you reach the band of his boxers, you leave the ice cube to melt on his abs before pulling them down and letting his cock hit his stomach. Jimin gasps at the cold wetness, tied hands digging into the mattress above his head. “Is that better, Minnie?” he only nods in response, and this time it’s enough for you.
Jungkook glances at the mess on his lap, a mix of his precum and spit lathered all over his shaft and hand. He looks back at his screen, and he sees you’ve crawled over his chest, nearing his face. Your hand goes to cradle his jaw, using your thumb to trace his bottom lip. “Tell me, Minnie, is this mouth only good for whining and complaining?” Jimin shakes his head fervently, tongue coming out to lick at your thumb. “Hmm, mind if I test it for myself then?”
Jimin swallows, trying to find his voice. “Please.”
You push his head back onto the bed, placing your knees on either side of his head. Another ice cube finds its way to your hand, and you bring it to Jimin’s lips. “Open, Minnie.” he complies, sucking the ice into his mouth. His mouth is left agape, and you smile, pleased. “Good boy.”
You slowly sink down, just enough for Jimin to start licking and sucking your heat. You gasp, holding your breath before letting out a small whimper. The hand that’s not steadying you holds the remote, pressing down on the button once again. Jimin groans into your clit. Jungkook watches the way your back arches with pleasure as his hand speeds up on his dick. He imagines being the one underneath you, eating you out like he’s wanted to for so long. Jungkook tries to be quiet, he truly does, but, fuck, just the vision of you spread out above him, makes him moan out loud.
“C’mon, Minnie, louder. Don’t you want everyone to know how good I’m making you feel?” Jungkook doesn’t realize how loud Jimin is until he hears his moans clearer through the wall than his computer speaker. Jungkook swallows down his whines as best he can, but when he sees the way your toes curl from Jimin’s unrelenting mouth, he can’t help it anymore. He’s sure the noises falling from his mouth can be heard as clearly as Jimin’s, yet he can’t find it in himself to care. Not when he’s so close to his own release.
Your whimpers only spur Jungkook further, and he’s too lost in the way you smirk straight at the camera to worry about his volume anymore. He groans, on the edge of ecstasy when your voice sounds through his clouded mind. “C’mon, baby boy, I know you can do it.” White flashes behind his eyelids, and he comes in spurts of white all over his stomach. Jungkook doesn’t notice the way all light in his room has suddenly shut off, leaving him with only the glow of his dying computer to luminate him.
When Jungkook finally opens his eyes, there’s nothing but darkness, the harsh sound of rain splattering against his window and the howling noise of the wind mixing with his harsh breathing. Even Jimin’s whines and the humming of his laptop has stopped. The post orgasm haze clouding in his mind the only indication that whatever just happened was actually real.
CLICK!
[ENDED] ur fav boy on his knees w/ special surprise <3
by Sweetheart666
687,982 viewers / 2,298,836 hearts
#16 on trending
“Fuck.” he mutters, finally grasping the fact that the power had gone out. But, it’s when Jungkook’s eyes adjust to the darkness, that it comes back to him. Something you said that sounded too familiar, and this time he knows it’s not his imagination.
“Awww, do you want me to make it better, baby?”
It becomes clearer as his breath evens out.
“Awww, do you want me to make it better?”
You know.
© dewykth. all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, repost, translate or modify.
#bangtanhq#btsbookclub#btsguild#btsgoldnet#goldenclosetnet#cypherwritersnet#btsghostie#jungkook x reader#park jimin x reader#jeon jungkook x reader#jimin x reader#park jimin x you#jeon jungkook x you#jimin smut#jungkook smut#bts x reader#bts smut#w; cybersex
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did cas really tell dean to kneel before their new god? did that actually happen? i thought him beating the shit out of dean in that alley was the most unrestrainedly horny thing this show had ever done ACTUALLY you know what scratch that new question: top horny moments from the cw's supernatural (2005 - 2020)
getting this ask feels like my sins of the last week have been weighed against the Trials I Have Gone Through since the premier of supernatural on the wb in september of 2005 and I’m not sure if it is a punishment or reward
some notes before we begin:
the ep with dean’s male siren was like, conceptually horny but not actually that horny because the dude was uglie. I’m sorry to this man
all you sam girls out there. I respect you but I do not respect jared padalecki who is JUST tall and has zero sex appeal. but those eps where he’s like, drinking ruby’s blood and then eating her pussy are. you know. I’ll give you that
I am ONLY UP TO SEASON 10 so fair warning this is not comprehensive but the horniness does seem to drop off sharply after the mark of cain is no longer in play lol gotta love a good demon murder tattoo plot
this is easily the most insane thing I’ve ever done, including the destiel manifesto
S1 EP12: the scene where dean gets healed by the faith healer, on his knees with a hand in his hair and looking somewhere between religious ecstasy, brain death and an orgasm. starting this list off great
S1 EP22: azazel possessing john winchester. no I will not explain further if u know u know <3
S3 EP10: dean being taunted by a dream version of himself, this is where we first got the daddy’s blunt little instrument line. still burned in my hippocampus a good 13 years later thank yew
S4 EP1: dean crawling out of his own grave covered in grave dirt. hot. the HANDPRINT. HOT. also tangent but this reveal after the s3 finale was WILD back in 2008 I hollered in my dorm room after canvassing for obama. simpler times man
S4 EP 1: cas’ intro scene. the barn. the shadow wings. the hair??? getting stabbed in the chest by the man you just pulled out of hell. getting aaaallll up in that personal space. his little eyebrow. “you don’t think you deserve to be saved.” OUTRAGEOUSLY FLAMING
S4 EP02: “I dragged you out of hell I can throw you back in.” <<< this angel tops. mark dean down as scared and horny etc
S4 EP16: this ENTIRE EPISODE but specifically the part where dean tortures alastair as some kind of foreplay and then alastair kicks his ass. carved you into a new animal. jesus.
S4 EP16: wait I forgot about the part where cas also gets his ass kicked and looks all....hm. dazed and covered in blood while he’s on his knees and about to die. yeah.
S5 EP4: I mean this entire ep is unfairly horny considering everyone is dying of a zombie plague and hasn’t showered in like, 4 years but if I had to pick one hmmm. the dean/dean interrogation scene with the panty kink yeah I know it’s not original but hm. it happened. also misha collins just being able to convey that CAS IS A FLEXIBLE SLUT with a single roll of his shoulders. who SAYS this man can’t act!!!!!
S5 EP18: the ALLEY SCENE. DEAN DOESN’T FIGHT BACK. CAS HOLDS HIM UP OFF THE GROUND AND THEN THROWS HIM ACROSS THE ALLEY. WHY DID EVERYONE THINK CAS COULDN’T TOP. you all had brainworms.
S5 EP18: when cas locks dean in the panic room to stop him from saying yes to michael and “well cas not for nothing but the last person who looked at me like that I got laid” I hate this show. wait I think the blow me cas line is in this episode too what the fuck were they on here
S6 EP5: the scene where dean gets turned into a vampire. between the old dude who I think calls dean a pretty boy (??) and soulless sam....watching??? no ******* but there were just some absolutely foul energies in that scene and I still do not understand WHAT they were thinking
S6 EP20: cas doing a double smite on two demons by slamming them to the ground and then shoving another demon back in its vessel and then smiting him in the same motion. TOP. ENERGY.
S6 EP22: season 6 is possibly cas’ horniest season because he’s like, going through angel puberty after getting his first boner for dean, but the final cas eps are. whoof. cas eats a bunch of souls and proclaims himself to be a new god in order to handle said boner, and then the season ends with cas telling them to bow down and profess their love to him, their new lord, or he will destroy them. note: the way this is framed makes it look like cas is only staring at dean while he says this, even though sam and bobby are also there. the season ends with dramatic zooms on both cas and dean’s faces respectively. this made me actively regret ditching this show after s5 lol
S8 EP??: literally EVERY SINGLE PURGATORY FLASHBACK. cas dean and benny are all purgatory hot in the “pop 10 cranberry pills and risk the UTI” kind of way but also. dean being the hot girl bottom between two tops who hate each other. I really. whew. I need to go take a shower.
S8 EP17: if I get canceled for including the crypt scene on this list I blame you bud. but dean on his knees begging a brainwashed cas to stop killing him WAS sexy. how many times has dean been on his knees in this list wait there’s another one coming up next jsldjfsldkjf
S9 EP2: abaddon getting dean on his knees (YEAH) and pulling his hair and praising him for always coming when called HELLO???? the only thing that ruins this is dean says “I can’t tell if we’re gonna fight or make out” because this is the CW and they won’t let him say fuck
S9 EP6: ah. this entire episode is Emotionally Horny but the horny horny part is when they’re in the car and dean is telling cas to unbutton his shirt and. watches. I know this was on my destiel manifesto but I need it here too
S9 EP9: cas, covered in blood, slitting another angel’s throat and eating his grace after getting tortured. that shot alone made me understand why this website was so goddamn horny for misha collins for nearly a damn decade
S9 EP11: MARK OF CAIN BABEY. cain watching dean beat up a bunch of demons as an audition for taking on the mark, while crowley also is a fucking voyeur to the whole thing. cain is also a hot silver fox with daddy energies. I said what I said
S9 EP 16: dean getting the first blade. he’s chained to a pillar and being menaced by a foppish dandy who wants to add him to his “collection” (WOW). dean then kills him with the blade and whew. murder is sexy sometimes
S9 EP21: dean being pinned against a wall by abaddon’s power, then using the mark of cain to break her hold, calling the first blade to him psychically and then killing her. god the mark of cain is hot
S9 EP23: dean waking up with the demon eyes NUT
S10 EP2: demon dean beating up that dude with the boring backstory and kicking his ass. really was a go on baby I got your flower moment because I hated that dude and I love demon dean
S10 EP3: demon dean being chained up and taunting sam about how his brother is gone, then hunting sam through the bunker. demon dean in general was VERY fun for me, someone who loves trash
S10 EP9: dean going berserk and killing a bunch of pedophile rapists/child abusers. I’m sorry I know this show is trying to preach morality at me about monsters and unnecessary murder and humanity or whatever but we blew past that like 8 SEASONS AGO. also the mark of cain is sexy
S10 EP14: the rest of this list is really gonna be mark of cain stuff isn’t it look I’m here to have fun. cain and dean’s fight. cain continuously tossing his mane of hair back and taunting dean with the picture of what he’s going to become, who he’s going to kill. dean begging cain to tell him that he can stop, and then ultimately killing him. rip daddy.
S11 EP4: again I have not watched this however. every shot of this episode is PRESTIGE TELEVISION because driving a muscle car is sexy. and especially the shot of dean all beat to hell and begging his car to start and giving her a little kiss from his fingers to her dash. ugh. masculinity.
S12 EP10: the bearded salt-and-pepper daddy look returns, only it’s an angel this time and he’s wearing a vest and shirtsleeves and he swordfights with a hot redheaded lady in a suit and an eyepatch. this show is good sometimes!!! and oh fuck lol I just realized this is the same guy who played krissy’s hot hunter dad in s7 probably the first guy who’s hotter as an angel than a hunter. huh.
S12 EP 11: dean riding larry the mechanical bull to “broomstick cowboy.” I have no idea where this factors into the ep but I have seen. the youtube clip
S13 EP23: from what I can tell s13 is way more emotionally horny than boner horny, although dean burning cas’ body was sexy. but the horniest part was dean saying yes to michael and then michael taking over and saying “thanks for the suit.” we are going to ignore the silliest fight scene in existence as well as the final shot ending on a FREEZE FRAME like a goddamn tiktok
S14: not gonna pick a specific moment because I have not watched yet!!! but michael dean is hot. idk why michael is weirdly hot and I cannot stand any iteration of lucifer on this television programme. it should be the reverse but I’m forever an older sibling stan apparently. someone who is catholic could probably explain this better.
S15 EP13: genevieve padalecki and danneel ackles fight flirting as ruby and anael I CANNOT BELIEVE THEY HELD OUT ON THIS TILL THE LAST SEASON
I know I am missing things but this is already an absolutely incomprehensible screed. I know I’m missing shit from the latter seasons but give me time I’m pacing myself
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Two Worlds Collide
In which ghosts are known, and there is a deep rooted rivalry between them and lifers.
Ship: Ghost!Luke x Alive!Reader
Warnings: This talks about deep-rooted rivalry and segregation.
If this is good though, should I start a taglist?
Luke Patterson Tag: @rachmmb @phantompogues
also, i started up a wattpad “rosemoonmist” if you could give that some love, i would be so grateful <3
Masterlist
Night had long since fallen on the town, stars twinkly bright in the sky overhead, a soft breeze passing by that moved your hair ever so slightly. Your knees were up against your chest, chin leaning on them with your arms wrapped around them, trying to stay small to keep your body heat in. You sat in the shadows, on a random balcony at the top of the building, overlooking the town you had lived in your entire life.
The buildings on the side you were on were dingy and dull, high built buildings that were not pretty, and instead built for housing people. Your eyes drifted over to the other side of town, where luxurious houses stood, plants that were well cared for, streets that were free of trash. It angered you, that for simply being alive you had to live in such poor conditions, that you were looked down on by ghosts. You were forced into dingy housing, old and ripped clothes, just because they were untouchable.
It wasn't always like this, not until Caleb Covington took over. Ghosts and lifers used to work together, but when Caleb took over he created a barrier, made ghosts feel that they were superior to lifers and now you were stuck into this life. It sucked too, because Caleb somehow managed to make it so that he controlled who became a ghost, and so far, it was becoming more of an exclusive club that free choice.
It was illegal to pass over to their side of the town, because apparently lifers shouldn’t be allowed to walk on their soil unless they wanted you to, yet they could roam free here. Not that they would want to, this side of the town was a train wreck.
When you were a child, you didn’t understand why they would ever separate from each other, especially when they worked together only years before you were born. All the lifers were scared, what you didn’t know at that point was why. There were all these new rules implemented, and lifers couldn’t fight against them, not when everything was against them. The legal system was overrun with ghosts, from police officers to lawyers; everything.
Life was awful, for those with a heartbeat anyway, and life only seemed to get worse as the years got on. Slowly, ghosts and lifers could no longer go to the same school, then you couldn’t talk to each other, and it slowly got worse until any lifer that didn’t do what a ghost wanted was punished, severely.
You had only ever seen ghosts passing, and some nasty things that they did to lifers, but you tended to stay out of their business. You had never crossed over to their side of town, and you knew it was extremely dangerous to do so; you would get caught out, you knew that. Maye that’s why you hadn’t done so yet...
Luke knew that he shouldn’t have been on the other side of town, but he often found himself drawn to lifers. He wasn’t sure why honestly, they just seemed a lot more fun than the other ghosts. Ghosts were entitled and thought they were all better than each other. But Luke? He just wanted someone to hang out with. Sure, Alex, Reggie, and Bobby were cool, but he was used to them, he wanted to meet someone new, and the lifers were a lot more interesting than the other ghosts.
Maybe that’s why he found himself on the rooftop above the balcony you were on, feet dangling over the edge. You remained scarily silent, hoping that whoever it was would eventually go away, and you wouldn’t get in trouble for being on a random person’s balcony. However, it seemed that the person knew you were there, “Are you coming to join me or what?”
Silently, you found yourself climbing up the metal ladder and joining him on the balcony, awkwardly shifting to sit next to him, yet still staying several feet away. Your eyes caught onto him, the hood of his jumper sitting over his head and blocking his face from view.
You can tell a lot about the people from the way they’re dressed, that’s something you had been taught from a young age. You were taught to be able to notice ghosts straight off the bat, so you knew who to talk to and who not to. He wasn’t dressed as elegantly as ghosts were, and the number of layers he was wearing was a clear indication that he was a lifer. Lifers wore layers to combat the cold weather, weather that ghosts were easily protected from with their built-in heating systems in their houses and cars, and their weird powers that seemed to combat harsh conditions.
“Sorry uh- I didn’t mean to intrude on your house I was just trying to get some peace and quiet,” You said, biting your lip as you turned back towards the night sky. Your legs dangled over the edge of the roof, shoelaces undone with your hands gripping on the edge of the building. It wasn’t the most comfortable seat, but it definitely did have the best view and you could tell exactly why this person sat up here.
A soft chuckle sounded from beside you, bringing a small and almost unnoticeable grin onto your face before he spoke, “It’s fine, I don’t live here either.”
“That’s great,” You replied, looking back over to the boy beside you who’s eyes remained on the landscape in front of you, “at least if we get caught, we’ll get caught together, right? Plus I don’t think they’ll care all too much.”
“Probably not,” The boy agreed, nodding his head before you both fell back into silence.
You found yourself often up on the rooftops of buildings that were near the ghost side of town, peering over and looking at their perfect little houses and picturing what could have been. How perfect your life could have been if you were a ghost, how much easier it would be. Ghosts didn’t even need to eat, yet they constantly had any food that they could have ever wanted simply for the pleasure of eating, whilst lifers were starving. It was crazy, yet it was how life unfairly worked.
Despite finding peace in fantasizing of another life alone, at that moment, with the boy beside you, you found peace in his company. You didn’t find yourself talking to others often, so the fact that you were sitting with a boy in your ‘escape place’ should have felt invasive, but you didn’t mind it.
“What are you doing up here anyway?” You asked, trying your best to start up a conversation with the boy beside you, turning your attention towards him, “I’m normally the only one up here.”
“I’ve never been up here before. It has a nice view though, I might start coming here more often.”
His eyes were on the ghost side of town as he said that, and you couldn’t help but nod as your eyes went back towards there too, “Yeah, it does have a nice view. Too bad we have to view it from this side of town, huh?”
He glanced over to you nervously, gulping slightly but you never realized, your eyes still on the scenery. Your hair is slightly messy, yet it’s still pretty, layers of clothes on to protect you from the cold of the night. In Luke’s hesitation, he figures out exactly who you think he is; a lifer.
“Yeah, those ghosts are really lucky,” He replied, his voice battling out the nervousness. He doesn’t know why he felt compelled to lie, but he knew that if you knew he was a ghost you would not be talking to him right now.
“Lucky is an understatement. Imagine living in one of those big houses, where you didn’t have to worry about being hungry. Bastards don’t even need to eat, but they have more food than any of us ever will,” You snorted lightly, but Luke can tell from your voice that you think it’s unfair. He frowned a little whilst he thinks about it, what you said is true, he knows that a lot of lifers have it bad, but just hearing about it from a lifer makes him sad. When you don’t get a reply from Luke, you sigh lightly, “Sorry, I don’t really think that’s what you want to be talking about when we first meet.”
“Nah it’s alright, you seem chill,” Luke sent you a smile and you smiled back. You could hardly see his face, the shadow from his hoodie’s hood covering the majority of his it, but you could see his mouth, and the smile he was giving you.
“Well,” You started, moving your legs up to the rooftop before standing up. You face towards the boy, holding up to fingers, and playfully salute him, “I need to get going, I’ll see you later, rooftop boy.”
Somehow, by the time Luke tried to look back at you, you were gone. It was like you disappeared from thin air but he knew you didn’t poof out as he could. He could hear the heartbeat in your chest, one that very clearly showed that you were a lifer.
It’s moments afterward when he realized he didn’t even catch your name, but it makes him even more curious about you. Right from the get-go, he had been taught that as a ghost he was better than the lifers, but you seemed interesting. You were the first lifer he had ever gotten to talk to, and you seemed interesting.
Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to come back to the rooftop tomorrow...
#luke julie and the phantoms#julie and the phantoms#charlie gillespie x reader#julie and the phantoms x reader#julie and the phantoms luke#luke patterson#charlie gillespie#charlie gillespie x y/n#jatp#luke patterson x reader#luke jatp#luke patterson x y/n
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Jammie Horny (Stony)
I tried to just make this horny and not romantic, but Stony deserves romance and that’s just the truth.
THERES MORE STONY ON MY MASTERLIST!
***********
It was cold today and cold days meant fires in the wood stove even though the compound had a state of the art heating system and warming floors and individual thermostats in every room.
No, cold days called for cozy blankets and slippered feet, team members huddled together in the recliners with hot chocolate, the wood stove roaring and maaaaaybe even s’mores because hey, a fire was a fire and roasted marshmallows were a necessity.
“Gimme.” A tiny foot lashed out from beneath the pile of blankets on the chair closest the fire and kicked at Clint’s elbow. “Gimme s’mores.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, let the record show the fierce Black Widow hates being cold.” Clint rubbed his elbow and scowled at the red hair and green eyes peeking out above the heavy quilts. “Make your own s’mores!”
“I will cut you!” Natasha hissed, and as Sam walked by with another bag of marshmallows he flattened his palm to her head and squashed her down into the blankets, grinning over her offended shriek.
“Easy does it, Ms. Romanoff. We’re all cold and we all want marshmallows. Wait your turn.”
Some words that were both Russian and pissed off, and Sam turned wide eyes to Clint. “Alright, maybe we make Nat some s’mores. Damn.”
“On it.”
Clint went back to toasting marshmallows, Sam felt around beneath the blankets and dragged a shrieking Natasha out by her ankle to sit on his lap, and the resulting noise drew the rest of the team into the common area.
First came Bucky, the super soldiers only mildly affected by the weather and sporting long sleeves in contrast to Pepper’s overly fluffy robe and slippers. He scooped the pretty redhead up into his arms and deposited her carefully on the nearest couch, tucked a blanket up over her thighs and got a kiss on the cheek for his efforts, which made the former Winter Soldier’s grin get far too fucking goofy.
Thor was never cold, but he was wearing a long sleeve cable knit sweater because he knew he looked excellent in it. Bruce was also wearing a long sleeve cable knit sweater that was at least two sizes too big and turned his hands into sweater paws and Clint rolled his eyes a little when Thor picked up Bruce’s paw and pressed it over his own heart, rumbling something sweet and probably sappy to his love. Bruce smiled and turned a little pink and smoothed the fabric down over Thor’s unfairly perky pecs and even Natasha let out a begrudging awwww over the scene.
Steve made it in after everybody else had already settled, pausing in the door way and straightening the line of his favorite dark blue sweater, surreptitiously glancing down at his new jeans to make sure they were appropriately flattering, and then looking real quick at all the seats to see if Tony was there yet.
"He’s not here!” Sam said loudly, and Steve jumped, turned bright red. “Tony’s not here yet! Stop standing in the doorway and strategically flashing your package and get your ass in here!”
The team erupted into laughter and Steve fought against a scowl as he stomped in and threw himself into one of the free recliners, snapping open the newspaper and holding it high to hide his blush.
“Aw, don’t look so sad, Cap.” Clint presented a perfectly toasted s’more to Natasha and then curled into Sam’s side to stay warm, resting his hand on Nat’s thigh and dropping a kiss on Sam’s cheek. “You know how Tony and Colonel Rhodes get when they go on vacation. We’ll be lucky if Tony comes back before New Years at this rate.”
“Can confirm.” Pepper shifted closer to Bucky on the couch and hooked just their pinkies together. “One year they went to Vegas for Tony’s birthday and I didn’t see him again until the Fourth of July when he flew in from Paris. For the life of me I can’t figure out how a week’s vacation in Vegas turned into a trip overseas, but he spoke solid French for a month. This time they went to Hawaii, so I have no clue when--”
“A yoo-hoo!” A voice from the entry way, the sound of running feet and less than a minute later Tony came skidding into the living room holding a giant thermos of hot chocolate, wearing a just beaming smile--
--and the single most ridiculous pajamas any of them had ever seen.
“Uhhhh hey bud.” Bucky was the first to speak, because everyone else was just staring and Pepper had both hands over her mouth so she wouldn’t shriek with laughter. “What-- what’cha got there?”
“Hot chocolate!” Tony held up the thermos and his smile stretched even wider. “It was cold today so I knew you guys would be down here! I’m ready for s’mores!”
“Welcome home, Tony.” Natasha elbowed Sam when he snorted a laugh. “Cute jammies.”
“I know!” Tony set his hot chocolate down and shoved his hands into the pockets. “They have pockets! I got them in the airport!”
“Adorable!” Thor boomed, and Clint admitted, “Yeah, you look real fucking adorable, Tony. Black and red flannel onesie jammies definitely don’t make you look like a lumberjack groupie.”
“Definitely not like a lumberjack groupie.” Sam was quick to agree and Bruce pushed his glasses up his nose and sighed, “Oh Tony, you sort of look like a lumberjack groupie.”
“Jealous.” Tony snarked good naturedly, took a big slurp of his hot chocolate then turned a softer but no less enthusiastic smile towards Steve. “Uh hey. Hey Cap.”
“Tony.” Steve hadn’t so much as reacted to Tony’s jammies as he had held the newspaper higher to hide his face and gripped it tight enough that the edges were starting to tear between his fingers. “Welcome home.”
“...thanks.” Tony’s smile dimmed, and the group exchanged uncomfortable looks. “You look good. I like that sweater. Did you get new jeans?”
“Yes.” Steve stood abruptly, tossed the newspaper away and strode from the room with fists clenched at his sides, jaw set and eyes blazing, practically stomping past Tony and slamming the door to the compound on his way out into the yard.
“Fuckin’ yikes.” Bucky muttered, and Pepper immediately snapped her fingers, made room on the couch next to her and told Tony, “Come here and tell me about your vacation with Rhodey. How was Hawaii?”
“No no.” Clint cut in. “No no, I want to know what just happened with Cap and Tony. I thought you were two were just a few steps from canoodling before your vacation. What happened? Why is he mad at you?”
“I don’t know.” Tony slumped onto the couch next to Pepper and took another sip of his hot chocolate. “We texted almost every day I was out with Rhodey and he said he was looking forward to seeing me when I got home today. I don’t know what happened.”
“He told me you two kissed right before he left.” Sam said over a mouthful of graham crackers. “True?”
“Yeah.” Tony’s cheeks turned just lightly pink. “Yeah we did.”
“Good kiss?” Natasha asked and Bucky chuckled, “It’s Steve, Nat. He kisses like a grandma.”
“It was a perfectly nice kiss!” Tony defended and Bruce laughed when Thor muttered, “Aye, like a grandmother’s kiss.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing.” Pepper soothed Tony with a light hand on his knee. “It can be awkward to see someone you like after being apart for a while and Lord knows Steve isn’t exactly great at expressing his feelings. Give him a little bit and I’m sure he’ll come talk to you.”
“Kay.” Tony pulled the hood of his jammies up over his head and settled back into the comfortable couch. “Catch me up on what happened when I was gone. Also, remind me to show you the picture of Sourpatch in a coconut bra.”
Pepper started listing off everything that had happened while Tony was on vacation, and while she was mid talking about the latest at Stark Industries, Bucky tapped Tony on the shoulder and whispered, “Don’t think too much about Steve, Tony. He’s real emotionally constipated, but don’t worry, he’ll come around.”
Tony just smiled and tried hard to ignore the wiggle of uncertainty in his heart.
Everything was fine.
Steve would come around.
**************
**************
“Hey, what’s Cap doing?”
Another cold day later that same week, another gathering around the wood stove and easy conversation, another appearance of Tony’s flannel jammies and another abrupt disappearance by Steve.
This was the fourth get away in just as many days, Steve basically dropping whatever he was holding and all but running from the room, usually not making an appearance until after breakfast the next day. Any conversation with the Captain dwindled to about nothing, he was skipping movie nights and avoiding meals and any texts or calls to his phone had been met with radio silence.
The behavior had been noticed by everyone, especially by Tony who had just been getting ready to sit next to Steve with a bowl of popcorn when the blond had bolted from the room, and Natasha swore something furious under her breath when Tony’s entire expression crumbled in confusion.
“I will cut him!” she snapped and Clint hooked his arm around her waist to keep her from leaving.
“Maybe we don’t go all stabby on an All American Hero.” he said calmly. “We don’t know what’s going with Steve or why Tony is so sad right now, but I don’t think getting blood on the carpet is the way to find out.”
“It works with everyone else.” Natasha sniffed and Clint just laughed and kissed her. “I’m just saying, it’s been five days since Tony got home and Steve is making it awkwardly obvious he doesn’t want anything to do with him. If I have to watch Tony go all big eyed and heart broken and hide away in his hoodie one more time I’m going to scream.”
“Hey, do you guys know what Steve’s doing?” Sam ambled in, had a kiss for his girlfriend and his boyfriend, then inclined his head out the window. “I thought maybe Bruce asked him to chop some wood, but I’m pretty sure that requires ax.”
“What do you mean it requires a--” Clint’s jaw dropped as he looked out the window. “Wait. What is he doing? Is he-- is he punching logs? That’s not how you chop firewood!”
“Steve’s punching logs?” Bruce had to stand on his toes to see over Sam’s shoulders. “Oh good lord, look at him go.”
“Steve!” Sam pushed the window open and whistled sharply for the blond. “Steve! We need actual logs, not just kindling! Take ten to twenty percent off the top there, bud!”
Steve just looked up and scowled at them, then tore a log in half with his bare hands, chucked the pieces towards the wheelbarrow and kept right on going.
“That had no business being so sexy.” Natasha muttered, and Clint made an offended noise. “Oh please, Clint. When you can tear logs in half and make your tiddies jump like that, we can revisit the conversation.”
“I can make my tiddies jump.” Sam defended and Bruce put both hands up and announced, “I’m slowly backing away from this conversation before it gets weird.”
“You know....” Natasha tapped at her bottom lip thoughtfully. “Steve’s whole obsession with obliterating our fire wood supply started the day Tony came back from his trip right?”
“Right.”
“And Tony swears they were okay before the trip?”
“Right.”
“Soooo....” the fearsome redhead narrowed her eyes when Steve did another one of those jaw dropping tiddy jumping rips on a round of oak. “So what else happened that day that would explain why Steve has gone berserker on the wood pile?”
There was silence as the group thought it through, and Thor-- who had somehow managed to sneak up on them despite his bulk-- cleared his throat and announced, “Tis simple! The Captain is simply aroused by Anthony’s sleep frock!”
“....”
“...”
“...uh...” Clint scratched at his head. “Aroused by-- wait, are you saying Steve is horny for Tony’s jammies?!”
“Exactly! He cannot handle the sight of his paramour in flannel!”
“Oh my god.” Sam’s eyes widened. “Oh my god, Steve is jammie horny.”
“Stevie is what horny?” Bucky ambled up towards the window and slung a friendly arm around Sam’s shoulders. “Horny for Tony’s flannel? Oh yeah, been there, knew that.”
“WHAT?!”
“Gimme a break, the guy turns bright red and gets all stiff legged walkin’ whenever Tony shows up in those things.” Bucky scoffed. “Then either disappears into his bedroom for hours or goes out and does whatever th’fuck this thing is. Can he go to jail for abusing his wood like that--”
--Natasha screamed in laughter--
“--or should we just be glad for the extra kindling?” Bucky finished with a snarky grin and from clear across the room Bruce breathed out a sigh of relief that he’d gotten away from the conversation before it took that particular turn.
“Wait wait wait, I think we need to go through the appropriate scientific process on this.” Clint’s grin was damn near evil. “We’ve made a hypothesis, now we need to observe and gather proof, and then draw our results from the information.”
Bucky slanted Sam a look, and he supplied, “Apparently Tasha loves Bill Nye the Science Guy so they watch it together while I run in the morning.”
“Got it.” Bucky nodded. “Alright then. Scientific process. Any ideas?”
“JARVIS!” Natasha looked up at the ceiling expectantly. “Could we keep the compound at a cool fifty five degrees so Tony has to live in those jammies for a while?”
“Anything for you, Ms. Romanoff.”
Natasha grinned and Thor lowered his voice to ask Sam, “Is even AI scared of our ballerina?”
“Eh. Probably.”
*************
*************
For three solid days the compound stayed at a horrifyingly chilly fifty five degrees, and for three solid days Tony lived in his jammies.
He wore them with knee high slipper boots and crunched through the snow on the porch to toss seeds and things out for the tree squirrels that hadn’t hibernated for the winter yet.
He put his hood up and sunglasses on so only his smile was visible in a selfie for one of the social media sites that posted a Daily Picture of Tony Stark. He thought it was hilarious to submit real photos to their archive and judging by the hundreds of notifications on his phone, apparently they loved his flannel look.
He wore them while playing chess with Bruce, his hair fluffed up to extraordinary heights while he thought each move through, his pockets full of endless candy canes because someone (Clint) kept giving him more because the look on Steve’s face while Tony sucked and licked and mmhmm!ed his way through yet another sweet treat was honestly hilarious.
One day Tony didn’t wear them only because they were in the wash, and that day the entire team was treated to the sight of Tony curled up in one of Thor’s robes, the hem dragging the floor, the tie wrapped twice around his waist, the arms hanging six inches past Tony’s fingers and the collar ruffed around his neck until all that was left of the mighty mighty Iron Man was fluffy hair, bright eyes and a smile that crinkled up his cheeks.
Steve walked into a wall that day on his way to be horny angry with the woodpile and Natasha air-fived with Thor because the entire thing had been a wonderful success.
“Steve?” Today was another jammie day, another day of Steve attempting to bruise his knuckles Hulk-smashing through the wood pile, another day of Tony with his hood on and toes toasty in slippers and hands in his pockets as he rocked back on his heels and cleared his throat shyly. “Hey uh-- could we talk?”
“Tony.” Steve didn’t so much as blink, staring down at his crossword puzzle hard enough to just about burn holes through it. “What’s on your mind?”
“Well-ll-ll--” Tony inched closer, pushed his hood off his hair and blinked earnestly at the soldier. “Well, this is a little awkward cos things have been really awkward lately but I was hoping maybe you could tell me what’s going on with us.”
Steve’s back went ram rod straight, his shoulders tense and stubborn and Tony gulped a little, played nervously with the pom-poms at the ties of his hood.
“I just uh-- you know, we kissed before I went to Hawaii with Rhodey.” Tony rubbed at his hair sheepishly. “And it was a good kiss. Maybe a little more chaste and good ol’ boy-ish than I would have preferred but hey, I’ll take what I can get.”
“Tony.” Steve bit out and Tony rushed on before the Captain could interrupt.
“The thing is, ever since I came back from hanging out with Rhodey you’ve been distant.” He blurted out quickly. “And I mean-- I called you? And I texted you and I even sent you one of those dumb memes that you and Bucky always laugh at and you didn’t even read them! You left me on unread, Steve!”
“Tony, it’s just--”
“I just want to know if I did something.” Tony hurried to finish. “Because we’re adults and adults communicate and I realize it’s dumb to call myself an adult when I’m wearing feetie jammies but seriously, Spangles. Seriously we could have something good here and I’m not going to let it go because you got all weirdly obsessed with chopping wood and don’t want to talk to me. Talk to me.”
“You want me to talk to you.” Steve put his pen down very slowly, lay it at a perfect ninety degree angle from his crossword puzzle, tilted and adjusted the page so it lay impeccably lined up with the edge of the table, took a sip of water and cleared his throat and then put his cup right back where it had been sitting before so not a single drop of condensation was out of place. “Okay. Let’s talk.”
“Great.” Tony made a whew motion over his forehead. “Okay great. Steve listen, all I want to know is--”
“Those jammies make me insane.” Steve interrupted, and Tony only had time for a startled glmphhh?! noise before he was grabbed by the front of his jammies and yanked forward into a kiss that was neither chaste nor good ol’ boyish in the least.
“You are so goddamn cute.” Steve cursed, clutching the endlessly soft material up tighter, nipping and nibbling coaxingly at Tony’s mouth so the pretty brunette would open up and let him in.
“Right here.” Practically a growl, Steve clutching Tony up even tighter and kissing him harder, shoving his tongue past Tony’s pliant lips and deep inside his mouth to lick and thrust with the sort of moan that most people only ever heard in nekkid movies.
“Come here, right here.” Two big hands found their way to Tony’s ass, planted one on each cheek and used the more than generous leverage to haul Tony up onto his tip toes to drive the kiss deeper, wetter. Tony whined eagerly and Steve swept over the hood and yanked it off so he could sink his fingers into the thick curls and tilt Tony’s head just right.
“Christ, I love you in this.” Steve mumbled, and Tony made another one of those hnnnngh! sighs when the blond latched on to his neck. “God Tony, you’re so fucking cute, it’s making me insane.”
“C--Cute?” Tony couldn’t hardly speak when Steve was leaving kitten licks and tiny nibbles down his throat to the curve where shoulder met neck, mouthing a bruise over his pulse digging his teeth into the sensitive skin. “Steve what-- what--”
“C’mere, babydoll, c’mon.” Steve fit a thick thigh between Tony’s knees and rocked into him purposefully, and when the stars and stripes and freaking bells and whistles cleared from Tony’s vision, he finally realized--
“Wait.” He put a hand to Steve’s chest, gratified and wholly smitten when Cap immediately leaned away and tipped his chin up to see what was wrong. “Wait. Listen, I’m one hundred percent on board with what’s happening right now, but I gotta clear something up.”
“What is it?” Steve swept his fingers over Tony’s jaw, down his neck and around to his back, hooked his arm around Tony’s waist and settled him tighter against his body. “What do you need to know, Tony?”
“...do my jammies make you horny?” Tony asked quietly, seriously. “Steve. Look me in the eye. Do my jammies. Make you horny.”
There was nothing but pure adoration in Tony’s eyes, pure adoration and sparkling hilarity, and Steve wet his lips sheepishly... and nodded.
“Yeah. Yeah, Tony. These jammies-- the whole flannel thing and the way you hide candy in your pockets and this hood-- it makes me crazy.”
“So...” Tony was fighting against a smile, a blush rising in his cheeks. “So when you go out and get all aggressive with the wood pile?”
“It was either that or push you up against the wall and tear the jammies off you.” Steve confessed, grip tight at Tony’s hips as he rocked into him once, twice, approximately nine inches of All American Beef burning hot against Tony’s waist. “And since we hadn’t done nothin’ but kiss before now, I didn’t want to assume too much too soon.”
“You’re such a gentleman.” Tony breathed and Steve grinned, “Shucks Tony, I usually try to be more of a gentleman than this.”
“Nah, I’m on board with this. Totally on board with you being jammie horny for me.” Tony said confidently, and threw his arms back around Steve’s neck. “Bed?”
“Bed.”
“Do you want to take these things off me?” Tony wrinkled his nose teasingly and Steve dropped a kiss on it. “Or would you rather me do a rather flannel-y strip tease?”
“Oh sweetheart.” Steve’s voice went low and dark and wanting, fingers tracking along the seam of the jammies over Tony’s ass and pulling hard enough to make Tony shriek. “Leave them on.”
*******
Later, when Tony was face down on the bed and still moaning, when Steve was rubbing slow circles on his bare butt and smiling in satisfaction over the still red hand print from where he’d spanked Tony just enough to see that ridiculous booty jiggle--
Later, Tony wriggled and hummed and lifted his butt up into Steve’s palm a little more and asked, “Steve. Did you have to tear the ass of my jammies? I feel like you could have just taken them off of me.”
“Oh.” Steve turned scarlet to the tip of his ears. “Sorry about that, honey. I guess I got carried away. Could we stitch them back together?”
“It’s not like it’s a dick sized hole you tore.” Tony said dryly. “My entire butt is on display right now.”
“Yeah....yeah I know.” Steve couldn’t help another satisfied smile. “I see it.”
“You are decidedly less of a good ol’ boy than I thought.” Tony sighed happily when Steve leaned over and kissed behind his ear and down his neck. “I’m not complaining, I’m just surprised.”
“I dunno where all the stories about me being a good ol’ boy came from.” Steve smoothed his hand down Tony’s back and went right back to his butt, kneading at the tempting curve eagerly. “I’m just mildly polite, but all bets are off when I want someone as bad as I’ve wanted you for so long. Captain America might be an American Icon, but I’m still a man, Tony.”
“Yeah.” Tony turned on the pillow so he could offer Steve a sort of shy smile. “And one I’m fairly crazy about.”
“You crazy about me, sweetheart?” Steve rolled on his side and snugged Tony up into him, tangling their legs and holding him close. “I’m crazy about you too.”
“Good.” Tony twirled one of the hoodie strings through his fingers, squeezing at the pom pom idly. “We could get you a pair of these jammies, you know. I bet you look great in flannel.”
“Absolutely not.” Steve said flatly. “I am not wearing one piece feetie jammies, Tony. I’ll leave that sorta adorableness to you.” and then curiously, “Why did you even buy these? I’ve seen you buy Versace silk pajamas, what’s with the flannel.”
“They keep me warm.” Tony inched in tighter and wrapped both arms around Steve’s waist. “It’s like a giant hug. Also, I feel like a bear when I put the hood up and steal cookies from Bruce. It’s amazing.”
“I’d sure like to keep you warm.” Steve murmured, bumping their noses gently. “I wanna hold you forever, Tony.”
“Cos of the jammies?”
“No.” Steve tipped Tony’s chin up and kissed him soft and sweet and slow. “Cos of you.”
“But the jammies help?” Tony teased and Steve blushed all over again. “Which is why you totally ruined this pair--”
“--sorry, honey.”
“--but don’t worry, cos I bought one of those old fashioned pairs with buttons on the butt for easy access. It says ‘bear cheeks’ on my ass.”
“Oh my god, Tony.” Steve groaned out loud and jerked forward, grinding his suddenly re-interested cock into Tony’s thigh. “You’re killing me.”
Tony just laughed through another kiss and booped Steve on the nose with one of the pom poms. “Yay for cold days and you being horny for my jammies.”
****************
Fic Notes: Tony’s jammies are my jammies, I have them in black and white, blue and white and red and black and I have been living in them for a solid week. Best. Purchase. Ever.
SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE FIC!
SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL AUTHOR! (and her new jammies)
***************
@ships-galore @ceealaina @izziebladez @cwar1864 @hausoffro @tonystarkisanangel @multishippinglife @girlnic @iam93percentstardust @paranormalmoonlight5 @igotloki @moosette05 @wayward-student-philosopher @kaz-brekkers-gloves @atomicfandombomb @1fuckingshitup69 @agentlokii @livewire28 @tulipsnbigcats @kimstark @alex-stark-rogers @bibbarnes @heeeyitskay @goindownshipping @quietgayguy @nanita90a @justaniche
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All Tied Up
Joey Batey/Henry Cavill RPF - Also on AO3
Rating: E
Summary: All of the things Joey had expected from his first day back on set, he hadn't expected to spend the morning in a harness and chained up. And he really hadn't expected Henry to be staring at him like that. It was going to be a hard day.
CW: Light spoilers for Blood of Elves, bondage, references to torture (for Jaskier not Joey), exhibitionism, masturbation, hand jobs, frottage, multiple orgasms
Thanks to @jaskiertheflowertwink for being my beta!
__________
Joey tugged at the cuffs of Jaskier’s doublet, it felt strange to be back on set after so many months away, trapped in his flat with Madeleine. Luckily, Jaskier was an easy character to settle into, almost like a second skin. The bard was eager to come out and play, taking the edge off of Joey’s anxiety. With Jaskier, he almost forgot how much he fucking hated other people. Still, not even Jaskier could save him from first day nerves, and Lauren hadn’t started his shoot off easy. Joey was diving straight into a torture scene, and he would be spending the majority of the day hung up from the ceiling in ropes and shackles, waiting for darling Anya to come and save him. It wouldn’t be real of course, there would be harnesses and all sorts of wires to make sure he wasn’t injured, but it wouldn’t be comfortable. The harness was already bulking out his costume, and chafing the insides of his thighs.
And after the mess of the pandemic, Joey wasn’t sure how he felt about losing control and being trapped for the afternoon. It unnerved him. He wanted to be free, and thought of the shackles around his wrists just… nope.
“Hey?” Henry came up from behind him, a hand squeezing his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“What? Oh, yeah. Yeah. I’m fine,” Joey mumbled, staring up at the set. “First day back and all. It’s like being back at school.”
“You’ll be fine, Joey. You’re an incredible actor and I couldn’t ask for a better bard,” Henry reassured him, his voice low and gravelly in Joey’s ear. It was unreasonably hot. Honestly, Joey knew that Henry was fucking Superman but did he really have to be so godlike, and on top of that he was a complete dork.
Perhaps Joey could invite him to a D&D game once they were done shooting season two. Would that be too weird? It was probably too weird. They were just colleagues. Christ, Joey hadn’t even seen Henry since they’d finished promoting the show the year before. He really needed to get a grip, and ignore Jaskier’s voice in the back of his head. They were not best friends, and Henry would not want to play a shitty Dungeons and Dragons game with him.
Okay. Not shitty. His games were pretty fucking brilliant, but Henry would be too busy with his PC games, and his War Hammer and whatever cooler nerd stuff that he got up to in between his work outs and eating far too many chicken breasts and smoothies.
Jesus Christ, he missed Madeleine.
He didn’t say any of that aloud, no, that was for the safety of his own thoughts, racing at a million miles per hour. Instead, he channeled Jaskier and laughed, hiding his anxiety behind the more confident mask that had fooled millions of people into loving him. “Now, now, witcher,” he teased. “We both know you don’t mean that, what was it you said? If life could give me one blessing.”
“Oh fuck that, we’ve both read the books,” Henry groused, rolling his eyes.
His very, very blue eyes. He was in full make-up except for the yellow contacts and it was just weird to see Henry’s eyes looking back at him from Geralt’s face. It was confusing. Were they Henry and Joey right now? Or Geralt and Jaskier?
Perhaps a weird blend of the two.
And it was only the first fucking day.
Joey chuckled, “Yeah, talking of which, why are you here, Henry? I don’t recall Geralt being Jaskier’s Prince Charming in this scene.”
Henry shrugged. “It’s your first day, I wanted to see how you are.”
Joey swallowed, his mouth suddenly feeling dry, and he flicked his fringe from his eyes, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He wanted to run his hands through his hair but the poor hair and make-up team would have his balls in a vice if he tried. It was bad enough that he kept pulling at his costume, but luckily he seemed to have made fidgeting into a characteristic for Jaskier. He grinned, settling back into the character more than ever. “So, you came to see me all tied up?”
Henry, the bastard, winked. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Joey squeaked, feeling his cheeks heat up beneath the make-up. He tried to laugh it off but holy fucking cock balls… was Henry actually flirting with him? And about bondage of all things. Fuck. He was not going to survive the day, not if Henry was watching him.
No. It was going to be fine. He was an actor, a professional. He wasn’t going to get hard on set just because his unfairly attractive co-star was watching him. The harness was uncomfortable. He’d probably be in pain and there would be an entire crew watching him. There was absolutely no reason to get hard.
So… naturally… he got hard.
Getting into the rigging was awkward and possibly the least sexy thing he had ever done in his entire life, which was really saying something. The shackles around his wrist didn’t hurt at first but his arms became tired quickly. He opted to stay in the rigging as much as he could between takes though. It was better for continuity and, well, if he was being truly honest with himself, he was enjoying the way Henry looked at him. It was intense, not dissimilar to how Geralt looked at Yennefer whenever she entered the room, but this time that burning desire wasn’t directed at Anya, it was directed at him… and Henry wasn’t acting.
It was all incredibly distracting, but having Henry there made him completely forget about his previous anxiety of being tied up for the morning. Something about the other actor’s presence was grounding and Joey trusted Henry not to let him get hurt, more than he trusted the crew, which was completely stupid and probably the result from some teenage crush. He was lucky that he only flubbed his lines a couple of times, and by the time Yennefer flew into the room, he was aching and desperate to return to his trailer.
He’d never been so grateful for Jaskier’s baggy clothes.
“Ah, umm, Lauren?” he stammered, rubbing his wrists. They were sore, and he really needed to stretch out his arms, maybe have a nap too. Fuck, he was really out of shape. Lockdown had really been a curse. “Can we take a breather?” he asked, scratching the back of his neck and giving the showrunner a sheepish smile. “I umm.. I need a break.”
“Oh yeah, sure. You’ve done brilliant work today, Joey. Let’s take a half hour everyone!”
Joey all but ran back to his trailer, shuffling awkwardly as he tried to hide his erection as best he could. Occasionally he stretched his arms, rolling his shoulders back so that if anyone saw him then they would think he just needed to recover from the physical exertion of being strung up like a puppet for most of the morning. He was sure that he looked like a state, his doublet was torn and bloody and his shirt barely covering his torso. The makeup team had had far too much fun spraying him with fake blood and dirt. He hadn’t been allowed to shave for a couple of days and heavy film makeup was caked on his face, making him seem bloodied and bruised. His lips itched from where they had been made to look split…
And everyone was staring at him.
Fuck.
He supposed he was usually the one that wasn’t covered in shit. The worst he’d had was the djinn wound from season one, but normally he was all bright doublets and smiles. Sometimes a little bit mucky, but nothing like this.
And Jesus Christ, he really needed a wank.
Why on god’s earth had Henry been staring at him like that? Did the bastard know how it affected him? He probably knew. Fuck, cocking shit balls! He was in trouble. Joey was still trying to break into the industry, if fucking Superman lodged a sexual harassment complaint against him then he was done for. He’d never work again…
But then again, Henry hadn’t been looking at him like he was angry. No, he’d been looking at him like he wanted to eat Joey alive, get down on his knees and get his mouth around Joey’s cock whilst he’d still been suspended in the rigging, the shackles caught around his wrists, unable to move…
“Fucking cock!” Joey slammed through the door to his trailer, fiddling with the fastenings of Jaskier’s trousers as soon as he was inside. His cock was already leaking in his boxers, throbbing and desperate for relief. He bit back a moan as he thumbed the slit, collecting the precum on his fingers and sliding it down the length of his cock. Waves of pleasure washed over him, and he closed his eyes, picturing Henry’s blue eyes, dark and wanting, his pretty pink lips stretched around Joey’s cock.
He barely managed to stumble to the bed, his legs shaking, head already spinning. It wasn’t going to take him long, he’d been far too keyed up all morning, and with Henry at the forefront of his mind, he was tumbling towards his orgasm faster than he would have liked. Joey moaned, biting his lip as he stroked his cock, the memories of the day fuelling his fantasies. It felt so fucking good and soon he felt a familiar tug at his core.
“Joey, are you alright?”
“Shit!” Joey gasped as he came all over his hand, but the pleasure seeped from his body, leaving him feeling hollow and dissatisfied, “For fuck’s sake, Henry! Fucking knock!”
Henry was staring back at him, blue eyes, silver hair, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and looking like a fucking god. The bastard smirked and crossed his arms in front of his chest, raising an eyebrow. Joey had a sinking feeling in his chest.
“You- you did knock?”
Henry chuckled, his low gravelly laugh that sent shivers down Joey’s spine. There was a reason he spent much of their time on set trying to make Henry laugh. It was a gorgeous and beautiful sound, and Joey was completely addicted. He would quite happily spend the rest of his life trying to make Henry laugh… although that made him sound a lot more infatuated than he actually was, right?
They were just friends.
And Henry was a very attractive friend, friend? Co-star? Fuck!
“I am so sorry, Henry,” Joey whined, pulling a pillow in front of his face to try and hide his embarrassment but Henry wasn’t having any of it. He sat down next to Joey on the bed, gently pulling the pillow from his hands.
“Don’t apologise,” he said hoarsely, “I shouldn’t have walked in. I heard you moaning. It wasn’t exactly a hard jump to make… pun intended.”
Despite himself, Joey snorted and whacked Henry on the arm with his clean hand. “You arse!”
“What?”
“I’m actually dying of embarrassment and you’re making dick jokes!”
Henry smirked. “Sorry, I thought you’d be up to it.”
“Fuck off!”
“Oh come now, Joey.. it’s just a joke.”
Joey whined. “I hate you.”
And then Henry was suddenly in his space, so close that he could feel the warm tingle of the other actor’s breath on his cheeks. Lips brushed against his ear, and despite already cumming, he felt heat prickle over his skin and he mouth was dry. “I don’t think you do,” Henry whispered, his voice dropping to a low base, not dissimilar to the accent he used for Geralt.
Joey took a shaky breath, very aware that his cock was still on display, covered in his spend, already twitching, trying to get hard again. “What- What are you doing, Henry?”
“Tell me to stop, Joey, I’ll leave and we never have to talk about it,” Henry breathed, pressing a kiss to Joey’s neck, nosing along his jaw.
“I-I… no. Don’t stop…”
“Seeing you today, chained up, Christ, Joey. It was so fucking hot, and then you were hard. I bet you could hardly resist cumming in your pants like a fucking teenager, and with everyone watching you,” Henry growled in his ear, the actors fingers now stroking along Joey’s thighs, higher, creeping closer to his slowly hardening cock. Joey whined, pressing his head into Henry’s shoulder, “but I think you like that, don’t you Joey?”
His cheeks flushed red, burning hot right up to his ears. “Fuck off.”
“Or was it just me watching you?”
“Hnnng.”
“Can I touch you?” Henry asked, his voice sounding almost as wrecked as Joey felt, “We don’t have long but, god, I’ve been wanting to touch you since you walked into the reading room that first day all those years ago.”
“Wh-what?”
“You seemed so shy, then you started reading and you just melted into Jaskier’s character. It was fucking amazing. You’re amazing.”
Joey whimpered. “Henry, please.”
And then Henry’s hand finally wrapped around his cock. The effect was instantaneous. Joey keened, bucking into Henry’s hand as his second orgasm began to build, his poor cock already sensitive but he was craving more, he wanted to feel that overwhelming pleasure that had been so cruelly stolen from him. Henry covered Joey’s hand with his own, gathering a mess of sticky white fluid and then continued to stroke down the length of Joey’s cock.
“Can I kiss you?”
“Hmm.. uh huh.. Yup,” Joey stammered, lost to his pleasure, his head feeling hazy, almost floaty, but he didn’t need anymore words as Henry’s lips crashed against his. Moans and grunts and gasps were muffled by the kiss, and Henry shifted on the bed so he was sitting over Joey, one of Joey’s legs pressed against his clothed cock.
If Joey had any more sense left in him, he might have offered to get Henry off at the same time, but he was too far gone, babbling nonsense in between kisses, curses, moans, wordless cries. Henry seemed more than happy to thrust against his leg, grunting as he moved to suck kisses onto Joey’s neck.
“Henry, god! Oh fuck!” Joey keened, his back arching off the bed. “I-I… fuck!”
His eyes squeezed shut as he came, sparks flying across his vision and his head rolled back onto the pillow. His energy seemed to drain as the waves of pleasure took over his body, Henry’s hand stroking him through his orgasm, still rutting against his leg until he came with a strangled moan. Henry collapsed on top of Joey, breathing heavily, silver strands of hair getting in Joey’s mouth and eyes.
“Urgh, get off me,” he groaned. “Heavy and you have so much fucking hair!”
“Blame Sapkowski,” Henry grumbled but rolled over, lying next to him on the bed.
They both stared up at the ceiling, panting as they tried to catch their breaths. It should have felt weird, fucking his apparently not straight co-star in the middle of takes… but, well, it sort of just felt right?
Joey laughed, turning to face Henry. “Make-up are gonna kill us.”
“Costume too,” the other actor groaned.
“And Lauren if we don’t get back…”
“Yeah.”
Their eyes met and it was no use. They both reached for each other, their lips meeting once more in a feverish kiss. It wouldn’t hurt if they were a little late… right?
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The Big Five
Summary: A newcomer to L.A., Y/N isn’t much for anonymous sexual encounters, but there are 5 exceptions.
Word Count: 1530
A/N: @niksixx and her story Number 73 spurred a big list of comments and ideas and I got this idea as a result of the discussion. Also my first attempt for a reader insert, so we’ll see how this goes.
It’d been a lifelong dream of mine to move to California. The beaches were my original motivation when I was really young. My landlocked home state offered no such luxuries and they were too far away to visit, save for a few very special family vacations through the years. As I got older, the music scene began to be my enticement. Beaches were nice and all, but the guys who walked them were somehow growing nicer in my eyes.
My Sweet 16 Birthday trip was when I decided I had to make a place for myself in LA. They were my kind of people. The crazies, the weird, the musicians, the lovers, the dreamers, the shakers, the movers… It was my city. The trip had taken months to save up for, both on my and Y/B/F’s parts, but on our final day, we made a pact that we’d return in a few years, with more savings. Enough to carve ourselves out a little place in the city.
It took a while. A lot longer than either of us anticipated when we were thinking with our dream-clogged teenaged brains, but we made it a reality. The jobs we found after we made the move weren’t great, and neither was the apartment we were sharing, but it was our new home. Two bedrooms, a bathroom and a communal room that connected the entryway with pretty much everything else. At first, I’d been skeptical over getting a two-bedroom instead of saving a little by sharing a bedroom. Once Y/B/F started getting her nails into the beach boys we ogled as kids, I was only rueing not getting more rooms between us.
That wasn’t to say she was the only one having all the fun. I was much more careful about getting myself into situations, but I slipped up once or twice. Or exactly five times, as Y/B/F liked to remind me. Five anonymous, deeply animalistic, frequently kinky, occasionally intimate sexual encounters. I never took them to our place. I never got so carefree that I trusted the hookups with my address. That was something only official boyfriends got to know. Y/B/F could always just tell what I’d gotten up to. My walk of shame was painfully obvious, but never so shameful that she didn’t press for details over breakfast.
I knew the first one was going to be a hit-and-run the moment I saw him. He was the California man I was mentally lusting over since the idea first hit me. Long hair, eyes that oozed sex appeal once he caught you in his gaze, and had likely fucked everything with legs in that bar, stools and tables included. A second shot gave me the nerve to go over to him, but it turned out to not be needed. He was on the stool beside me at the bar once I turned to go over. I can’t remember what we said, only that his unfairly deep voice was lowering my inhibitions more than the alcohol ever could. Less than an hour later, I was gripping handfuls of his soft red hair and he was fucking the last of my coherency away. He was the first, and Y/B/F spent the next month pointing out every ginger she could to try and find the man whose name I couldn’t remember if I tried to get herself a taste of the honey.
Number two was different in every way imaginable. He was the California man I would have pictured as a kid. Blonde, toned, smiling brighter than the sun, and giving me the feeling that he could have been my best friend in the world. He probably could have been if I hadn’t left his place in a hurry after realising that it was Monday morning, and not Sunday morning, like I had thought. His address melted away from my memory with the hangover and by the next weekend, I was just hoping I’d never see him again, way too embarrassed to have been the one to run away before the other woke up without even a note.
My desperate attempts to avoid blondie coincidentally knocked me into the arms of number three, whose name, I learned, was Duff. His was the first name I learned, but I was never sure if he was fucking around with me or not. I’d been staring across the room at the back of his head for so long, debating if it was in fact blondie or if I was just being paranoid. His own paranoia made him look back at me a few times and eventually stalk towards me, demanding why I was staring. I wanted to laugh off the mistake, but so many things about him caught me off-guard that I couldn’t do anything besides chuckle awkwardly. I didn’t intend to go home with Duff, but he lured me in quick and mercilessly. I left him my number, but without him calling back, he was resigned to number three.
Number four was the first encounter that came from a completely clear head. Clear from alcohol, anyway. Turns out, adrenaline is a mighty powerful aphrodisiac. LA had gotten me fairly used to regular catcalls. Catcalls, and sometimes even being followed down the street, Somehow, it never got me used to a stranger nearby turning onto my catcaller and threatening him with a new pet snake he had been carrying fairly secretly under his pile of hair. He insisted I come up to his apartment so I could call someone and he could make sure I wasn’t alone going home. He would, he said, but his snake needed to be fed immediately and not left unsupervised in a brand new environment. The call kept getting pushed further back as he introduced me to all his snakes, later including the one in his pants. Y/B/F didn’t say anything when she picked me up, but her eye roll spoke volumes.
The siren call of the music scene had been beckoning me for ages, but I had always sworn to myself that I would never sleep with a guy just because he was a musician. That was a major fucking lie. Why wouldn’t I want to sleep with a guy who had dedicated his life to moving his fingers as swiftly and precisely as possible? It made number five a dream come true. He didn’t even need to bring me home to turn me into a mess inside and out. Innocent gazes and hands slipped under my skirt were all I needed at the table, and once he pulled me into the band’s dressing room, he got his turn.
I’d hooked up other times, of course, but they were the only five I never heard from again. Never saw again, either, even when I was looking for them. It didn’t discourage me from still having fun. The only thing that did was the sounds of Y/B/F and her new boy toy duking it out all night every night. I knew I was just as bad when I got my shot at them, but it was almost depressing every time I came home empty-handed. After the third week of going out with nothing to show for it, Y/B/F almost had to drag me out for the last Friday of the month.
“Is it a crime to just want to stay in on a Friday night for once?”
“It is when the only reason for that is because you keep striking out. It’s not happening tonight,” she insisted as we stood in line for the club.
“What makes you so sure?”
“Five bands tonight, including Izzy’s. With four to five guys per band, that’ll make twenty to twenty-five guys desperate to score with a hot piece of ass like you.”
“And a hundred girls for other options.”
“So you might get sloppy seconds tonight. At least you’ll get some,” she shrugged as we entered. I hadn’t met her boyfriend, Izzy, yet. Our schedules only seemed to line up when they were in bed together, and I had absolutely no desire to meet a guy right before or right after he scored. The only reason I had allowed her to take me out tonight was because this was his band’s biggest bill to date. Sure, they had to share it with other bands, but the crowd was going to be worth it. According to her, the other four guys in his band were almost as cute.
We took our spots in the front row. With Izzy’s band opening, we had to be at the top of our game. Cheerleading was the name of the game. If they were actually good, it would be all the easier.
The anticipation was eating me alive, but was promptly replaced with a mixture of nausea and arousal when Guns N Roses, as they called themselves, took the stage. My knees buckled the instant I caught a glimpse of the red hair. Ginger didn’t seem to take much notice of me, but Duff, Blondie, Snake Boy and Izzy all seemed to get the same kind of realisation I did when our eyes met. The Big Five. All together as a band.
#Writing#The Big Five#GNR#Classic Rock#Axl Rose#Izzy Stradlin#Duff McKagan#Steven Adler#Slash#self insert
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Starstruck
Are people tired of new AU’s yet? XD
It’s a JinYi so you only have @this-solaris-life to blame. P: Featuring Models!Jingyi and Yuan, author/conceptual artist!Jin Ling and illustrator!Zizhen.
(and behind the scenes Xicheng because it’s ME.)
---
It wasn’t the largest convention he’d ever walked into, but the crush of people felt oddly more intense as he followed Yuan’s expert weaving through the main area to the back building, where the Artist Alley had been laid out. Perhaps it was because only a bare medical mask was all that stood between him and what could be a crush of fangirls that he couldn’t seem to catch his breath, perhaps it was because of just who was in that Artist Alley. Probably a bit of both.
All he knew was that if Yuan’s arm wasn’t linked through his, he’d have been lost an hour ago. Typing furiously on their phones - Jingyi to his father, Yuan to his boyfriend - they’d managed to keep their heads down and look normal enough not to be noticed as the models they were, which was a headache Jingyi didn’t need. He just wished his father was a better distraction considering he himself was now the fanboy. Lan Huan, long disappeared into Artist’s Alley to find his own fanboy crush, had only sent him keyboard-smashed sentences the past hour, which was cute since ba-ba only ever wrote out his texts in perfect grammar. It just did nothing for his own herd of butterflies bashing around in his stomach, keyboard-smashing right back in spirit.
If he made it out of this without fainting, he’d consider it a win.
It was thankfully quieter in the artist’s area, with more rows of tables to better thin out the crowds. Jingyi and Yuan still kept their heads down, just in case their masks were not enough, though it didn’t take long before Yuan was quickening his steps, jolting his already struggling breath right out of him again.
Because there it was, Table C71 and C72, with the partition down between them to make a double table. One side for the illustrator of the comics splattered all over the wall behind the two men sitting there, and the other for the author��
The author, who was unfairly attractive with his hair pulled up messily and a pencil behind his ear, grinning at people as they moved up with books to be signed.
“Oh my gods,” Jingyi croaked out and did his best to stop. Yuan slowed, but pulled him along still, stronger than he looked. “I can’t do this.”
“You can and you will,” Yuan laughed, then excitedly waved through a break in the crowd. “Ah, they see us! A-Zhen!”
The illustrator grinned wide behind his glasses and practically leapt over the table to join them amidst a gaggle of giggling girls. Jingyi barely let go of Yuan before his friend was engulfed in a hug.
“You made it!” Ouyang Zizhen said, holding his hand out to Jingyi with Yuan beaming under his arm. “A-Yuan told us so much about you.”
One didn’t become a model without being starstruck often, meeting idols left and right. But these two men, who’s only spotlight was a warm spot in a comic convention, who’s following were loyal Weibo and Twitter users, not rich companies trying to break their pockets - these two men were a whole new brand of awe, because Jingyi had chosen to follow them, to love their work and stalk their social media.
Shaking the hand of an artist who helped fill his world with some normal, exciting joy was breathtaking.
“Only the bad stuff,” Yuan promised as they shook hands, eyes soft and sweet over his mask. He nuzzled under Zizhen’s jaw like a cat and Jingyi had to bite down a laugh to see it. “Speaking of, did you get it?”
Jingyi immediately felt on guard with the near identical grins on their faces, curling their eyes to the same half moons. “I did,” Zizhen promised him with a kiss to his cheek, then quickly returned to his table. A white, hardbound book was soon being pressed into Jingyi’s hands when he hurried back and he felt his entire mouth go dry.
“A-Ling put these together for Kingdoms,” Zizhen told him, which was rather unnecessary at that point. Jingyi had fallen so far down the xianxia novel’s hole he’d recognize the border art anywhere. “Last couple sketch pages are a sneak peak into a new character we’re going to introduce.”
“And!” Yuan piped up, just as excitedly and, truly, they were a match of twin devils. “He’s taking quick sketch commissions on the covers. So get in line!”
He couldn’t even make a token protest, manhandled as he was into it, and found himself staring dumbly at the book in his hands as the line slowly moved. Holding an actual, real art piece of an artist he’d crushed on for months was a religious experience, he was starting to realize. No wonder ba-ba’s texts were all keyboard-smashing. Fuck.
Nearly ten minutes of waiting was not nearly enough to prepare for the moment he was pushed to the table and one Jin Ling looked up at him, a smile on his face that immediately faltered in shock. Jingyi belatedly remembered Jin Ling had followed his social media first, which had started this whole mess, and gave a shaky wave and smile, which he showed with a careful pull down of his mask.
“I’m sure Wen Yuan warned you…” he started, awkward, and wanted to smack himself. What a lame first thing to say to his fanboy crush!
Blushing, he thrust the book at the man, which was hardly an improvement. “Uh… can I request a side character?”
He watched Jin Ling shake himself off and quickly covered his mouth again when the horde of fans behind and around him peeked in on the newest commission. Jin Ling nodded, all business, and pulled free his pencil as he righted the cover to the correct orientation. “Who would you like?”
Gods, his voice was even better than he’d imagined. Smooth and low, almost surprisingly so, and his eyes had a honeyed sheen. Jingyi had to take a moment just to remember to breathe and not vibrate clear through the floor.
“Rulan,” he said, decisive on that. “He only appeared in a few chapters, but I’ve always been curious about him.”
Oddly, that had Jin Ling blushing, but with a nod he put down some drawing guidelines. “He’s a favorite of mine,” was his quiet admission, nearly imperceptible over the excited murmuring surrounding them. “I hope i can do more with him in the future.”
The news had all awkwardness fleeing in a heady rush. Jingyi laughed, startling him, and leaned in to eagerly watch him. “Please do! He’s so biting and funny, but also strong and gallant. My kind of character.”
Jin Ling was handsome, always, but with rosy cheeks he was stunning. Clearing his throat, the artist tucked his pencil back behind his ear and pulled out a Sharpie. Seemingly out of a bare circle and line, the smirking, cocky face of Rulan took shape and quickly. Jingyi watched him in open awe.
“It’s Jingyi, right?” Jin Ling asked, voice even quieter, and it was only because Jingyi was leaning in so close that he heard it at all. Their eyes met, a mere foot of space between them, and Jingyi felt his own face heat, even as a smile spread wide over his lips.
“It is,” he nodded, feeling like they were running with a joke only they knew, a charming secret shared, and it was only his name. Gods, he had it bad.
Jin Ling smiled at that, bashful, but a hint of that confident grin on his profile picture was starting to take root. Which did nothing for Jingyi’s heart. Shit.
“Well, Jingyi, thank you for liking Rulan,” he said and lifted the completed book to him, face open and almost sweet. “It was a pleasure to draw him.”
Jingyi took the book and stared down at the quickly sketched in, very beloved face of his favorite character. For Jingyi, from Jin Ling had been set in the corner and he felt his heart start to gallop.
“In my line of work… well, I guess I’ve come to appreciate the people behind the scenes, so to speak,” he said, hoping Jin Ling would understand. “I will always like Rulan, even if you turn him into an asshole. He was the first character I fell for.”
Jin Ling blushed again and Jingyi desperately wished he knew the reason for it. Still, that smile was disarming and deadly and Jingyi couldn’t breathe all over again
“He’s already an asshole, but noted,” he laughed, laughed, and Jingyi was pretty sure he could die right then without a regret in the world. “Thank you, Jingyi. I’m sure I’ll see you later, yeah?”
Later. Oh gods, there was a later!
Jingyi swallowed hard and nodded, knowing his beaming smile showed even through his mask. “Definitely.”
#ruenwrites#jinyi#social media love story au#junior trio#plus zizhen!#jin ling#lan jingyi#wen yuan#lan sizhui#lan yuan#ouyang zizhen#hints of xicheng too#sizhen
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The thing I love about Otto, he is the guy who...Peter Parker is supposed to be the everyman, and in a lot of ways he is, but he is always dating the most beautiful women in the world...supermodels, Gwen Stacy...And Otto was the guy, I am not a big fan of the late-90s as an era of Spider-Man. There was a character called Stunner who came along and was this big Amazonian woman with super-strength, who was Otto's partner and love-interest and the big reveal was that she was a virtual reality simulation and the real person was an overweight woman in a virtual reality machine. But when Otto finds out he says, I didn't love you for what you looked like, I loved you for your mind...I can’t remember if she [Aunt May] saw Betty [Brant] as a bit of a Jezebel because she was older
We er...we really need to unpack this. I already did a post where I cited the above as part of why Christos Gage should never have been allowed to write Spider-Man.
But lets dive deeper into the idiocy of this.
First of all if nothing else the above quote and panels really do prove beyond doubt that Marvel knew what they were doing when they paired Slott and Gage...well sorta. Gage and Slott’s approaches to Spider-Man fundamentally come from the same place of fundamental misunderstanding and regressive beliefs thus they were perfect to work together. It’s just that Gage is a comparatively more competent writer than Slott and therefore Slott should’ve been HIS understudy and fill-in guy not the other way around.
So let’s dive into the less awful bits first. Like Slott Gage doesn’t know his continuity and is too lazy to even google it.
Let’s put aside how Stan Lee himself stated Betty Brant is younger than Peter NOT older, the age difference would’ve been insignificant enough (Peter was a senior in high school when he was dating Betty, that’s stated in the issues) so what is this ‘Jezebel’ crap? The fact his mind would go to that rather than just Aunt May thinking MJ would be a better match is at best eyebrow raising.
Moving on, the crux of his assessment of Otto and Stunner’s relationship is way off the mark. Ignoring the fact that Stunner and the reveals made about her occurred in 1994-1995 (so literally not the LATE 1990s at all), he’s totally distorted the story as it unfolded. As such let me show you some of the relevant pages.
Gage’s assessment of Otto and Stunner’s relationship hinges upon two interconnected ideas.
a) Otto was unaware that her stunning appearance was a facade and
b) That he didn’t care upon finding out
As you can see that is a distortion of what the actual stories conveyed.
Otto was always aware Stunner’s appearance was a facade because he invented the technology that made it possible in the first place!
Otto also began dating her BEFORE she became Stunner. This does indeed support the idea that for him outer beauty is not that relevant.
For myself I find this idea debatable for a few reasons. Not only in the above images does he directly refer to Stunner as beautiful and the love of such a beautiful woman makes him happy but in the classic Spec #75 Bill Mantlo implies Otto took a fancy to Felicia due to her being attractive.
I grant you it’s far from impossible to interpret that Otto in fact was referring to Stunner’s personality as beautiful and took a shining to Felicia for reasons beyond her looks. In fact I find that interpretation interesting. But both examples hurt the narrative of Otto being a man who doesn’t care about outer beauty, even before you get to the fact that in Superior he was oggling and actively trying to fucking rape Mary Jane! What exactly about her ‘inner beauty’ led to him doing this?
Then of course you have his relationship with Aunt May which has been treated as genuinely romantic when it’s very unlikely to be that.
The truth is Doc Ock has been inconsistently written over the decades so pinning down that he’s a man who doesn’t care about a woman’s outer beauty in regards to his feelings for them is extremely iffy.
His dynamic with Stunner and Gage’s assessment is even iffier as the pages detailing his ‘courting’ of her prior to her becoming empowered can definitely be interpreted as him actively manipulating her for his own ends. He needed a test subject for his technology, a technology he was hoping could essentially ensure he’d live beyond the demise of his mortal body and mind (which obviously happened in Superior). Angela was that test subject, he either came across or scouted her out with the explicit intention of having her use his machine.
Because we only get brief flashes of their relationship it’s unclear if he was 100% decieving and manipulating her (as he was to Anna Maria and Mary Jane) or if he was sincere in his affections, at least on some level. Maybe he even started out manipulating her but grew to genuinely care for her before or after her transformation into Stunner.
My point is it’s not this grand moral victory for Otto that he cared for Angela even though she was overweight.
Which brings me to the most damning thing about Gage’s comments.
According to him Otto is better than Peter because Otto didn’t date supermodels or sexy cat burglars.
Much like all his work with Otto before and during his Superior run, Gage practically wanks off the character.
You see Otto is ‘different. He’s not like ‘those other guys’, or more specifically ‘that Peter Parker guy’. HE doesn’t date supermodels or sexy cat burglars.
He just keeps the sexy cat burglars as his ‘guests’ that he won’t let leave his lair, will date by deception and attempt to rape the supermodels and will probably manipulate vulnerable overweight women for his own selfish scientific pursuits and date them sincerely once they’ve transformed into wrestling divas.
Of course in reality, romantic and sexual attraction is something none of us can help and we are going to feel about whoever however we’re going to feel, and the harsh truth is a lot (but not all) of the time outer appearences do matter, or at least they do when it comes to initial attractions. Often in healthy relationships they matter less as time goes by, but are rarely totally irrelevant. Nobody, of any sex, gender or sexuality, is shallow for on some level taking looks into account for how they feel about a romantic or sexual partner, at least on some level.
In Peter’s case Gage’s assessment (which synchs up with Slott’s) of him as shallow is so asinine because he clearly doesn’t just care about looks. In fact semi-famously in the classic Romita stories his initial attraction for Mary Jane fades after he (incorrectly, and unfairly) starts to view her as shallow and little more than her looks.
No doubt about it that chicks’s as pretty as a pumpkin seed...and just about as shallow.
ASM #45*
Peter late of course dumps Black Cat in part because she doesn’t love him for who he is, and only cares about him as Spider-Man. He wants someone who will share a life with him, whom he can connect with. If he was only interested in her because she was sexy why would he do that?
And of course this is to say nothing of the absolute denigration Gage’s comments pay to both MJ and her relationship with Peter.
I’ve felt this way for awhile now but to be blunt, if a writer ever just sums up MJ as a ‘supermodel’ I’m going to presume they either don’t understand her character and/or hold some messed up opinions. Putting aside how MJ hasn’t a model (super or otherwise) for most of her history it’s just messed up that everything else about her is dismissed in favour of pushing that profession and treating it as a summation of who she is as a character.**
Because whenever creators or characters sum up MJ as a supermodel what they really mean is ‘she’s just a shallow, pretty face’. Which is so facepalm worthy ironic because the crux of Mary Jane’s entire character since The Death of Gwen Stacy in 1973 has been that people THINK she is just a shallow pretty face but she in fact absolutely isn’t!
And aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaall the stuff that is relevant to why she isn’t is literally the reason Spider-Man fell in love with her in the first place. All the guilt, regret, insecurities, bravery, sense of responsibility and inner strength that subverted what we thought we knew about her, that’s the shit that her and Spider-Man’s romance is built upon.
How the fuck does anyone miss that! It’s not even like you need to read deeply to see it, just read a Wikipedia entry!
It isn’t the crux of Felicia’s character, but the same applies to her. What jackass in this day and age (or indeed since the 1980s) honestly thinks Black Cat is nothing but sex appeal? There is an entire goddam Black Cat ongoing series demonstrating she is more than that! Gage is a goddam relic at this point!
On the flipside of course is poor Anna Maria.
Once upon a time Anna Maria was the best character in Spider-Man. Back in the dark days of 2013 and 2014 when Superior was going strong, MJ was out of the picture and the best Spider-Man books on the stand were about a kid replacing a dead AU Peter Parker and Peter Parker’s clone, Anna Maria was a stand out.
A new character with a personality, likable, a new love interest for ‘Spider-Man’ that on paper made a certain amount of sense even though the circumstances were disgusting. And on top of that she provided a dash of representation that was handled in an appropriate way.
As time went by she gradually devolved as a character and went way off the rails to the point where now she’s being a misogynistic asshole to other women by judging them for their looks. It’s so fucked up because she herself has been judged for her looks, just in a very different way whilst the likes of those ‘shallow’ women she cites have never said a bad word to her or to my knowledge anyone else on the basis of how they were born.
Good job Gage, this is probably the last time we’re going to see Anna Maria and you’ve fully transitioned me from a guy who kind of wanted her to stick around in some capacity as a regular supporting player for Peter into a guy who would be delighted for her to forgotten and never appear again.
Fuck Gage.
Fuck Superior
Fuck the entire asinine, mishandled, clusterfuck of an era that outstayed it’s welcome circa December 2012!
*In fairness he does bring up he might just be thinking ill of MJ because he’s upset about other things. See, THAT is a more even handed and on point depiction of Peter Parker being flawed. But Stan Lee being a better writer than Gage or Slott shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone.
**Not to mention ‘supermodel’ shouldn’t even be used as shorthand for ‘shallow person’ in the first place. Are supermodels not people too? Are they incapable of being intelligent or having worth outside of their looks? I mean FFS we live in a world where this (starting at 3:37) really happened:
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#Christos Gage#Spider-Man#Superior Spider-Man#Anna Maria Marconi#otto octavius#Doc Ock#Dan Slott#Doctor Octopus#mjwatsonedit#Mary Jane Watson#Mary Jane Watson Parker#Black Cat#Peter Parker#Felicia Hardy
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This fandom has a Joe Trohman problem.
Listen, because I’m pretty tired of this bullshit:
If you think you are a Fall Out Boy fan, and you’re out there on Twitter with your shitty little profile picture of fucking Pete Wentz or something, saying hurtful, critical things to a member of Fall Out Boy, you’re not a fan. You’re a piece of shit and we don’t want your kind here.
Let’s make something very clear:
Fall Out Boy would not exist if not for Joe Trohman.
And we can leave out the fairly trivial, ‘He met Patrick’ reason, because that automatically makes Patrick the focus, as if Patrick is the only thing that matters in this band. Some of you are probably thinking, ‘Well, he is?’ and you can also kindly fuck right off. Then fuck off some more.
Joe had the original idea to form a pop-punk band.
Joe was the person who’d drive around picking people up and forcing them to go to band practise.
Joe maintained the early website.
Joe scoured websites and forums to find people to add to mailing lists and pushed the word of mouth that made them popular in the first place.
Joe made Fall Out Boy fucking happen on a day to day basis while Patrick was writing songs and keeping them to himself during the recording of TTTYG, because he didn’t think it would last and he didn’t want to share his best work with the rest of the band, and Pete and Andy others were in other bands entirely.
Before the hiatus, it was becoming increasingly clear that Joe wasn’t being allowed to contribute to the writing and was really unhappy. He felt pushed out, “Like [he wasn’t] even in Fall Out Boy.” He talked about it interviews and was then shot down because the rest of the band denied it was true, or he’d ever said it. He was the only one who didn’t deny it. It happened not once, but twice.
His mental health, which he’d struggled with since childhood, was suffering. He had two breakdowns in a year. The songs he was able to contribute to on Folie a Deux were cut at the last minute, and you love those songs - Pavlove? Lake Effect Kid? Yeah. Those ones. Listen to the fucking guitar parts.
When they came back from hiatus, those exact fucking problems - which he had talked about and which had then been denied - were suddenly accepted and addressed, because of how patently clear it had become to the band that he was being treated unfairly and hadn’t had the confidence or communication skills to fight his own corner. Patrick said himself that it wasn’t until he got to see Joe in The Damned Things that he really recognised his talent - even though he’d been in Fall Out Boy with him for all those years.
These are facts. These are acknowledged by the band. They are indisputable.
You can pretend it didn’t happen all you want, but it just makes you look like a delusional twat.
And you know what Joe was doing, prior to the band getting back together (given that people still ask what The Damned Things is, well into the album cycle, I doubt some of you do)? He was the fucking frontman of With Knives. He was getting to stand front and centre and take ownership, and guide the lyrics and music for a band. He even fucking sang.
And that was exactly when he was asked to come back to Fall Out Boy: when he had a project of his own that he had some control over.
But he gave that up and came back. And he came back because he was promised that he’d be treated better and it would be worthwhile and he’d be allowed to contribute - that his contribution was wanted and valued - and he came back because he loves the band he started and he loves the band members he grew up with.
And you know, it worked out okay for an album or two. Ish. Prior to Mania, he said how he hoped their next album would be more guitar-driven, he was excited for it. But it’s clear that by the time Mania was being produced, the emphasis of contribution had slipped again. And maybe he’s okay with that, maybe he’s resigned to it, but you should watch some interviews if you want a clearer sense of how he felt at that time.
They played the London show on the anniversary of his mother’s death, by the way - three years after he couldn’t come to the UK shows in 2015 because she’d just passed. That must have been pretty hard, no? But he was there and he did it.
So, don’t you fucking dare claim Joe doesn’t care about this band. Don’t you dare take a pop at him because you’ve taken his words - which have already been condensed by a journalist - out of context, and use them to fluff your Perfect Patrick Pillows in which Patrick is a fucking saint and the rest of the band exist to prop him up. Frankly, go fuck yourselves, because we are well aware that you’re fawning over the work Patrick is doing with other artists, right now, without a second thought for it being a slight against Fall Out Boy.
But Patrick isn’t at fault, here - if you’re one of the little pigs attacking Joe over what he does in his free time, you are. You’re a fake fucking fan.
And you know what? Patrick would hate you for it. He’d think you were a little asshole, because he remembers the way people like you treated him, when he did his original solo work. He knows from experience how fucking hurtful it is for people who pretend to be fans of Fall Out Boy to turn on you when you express yourself in your own way.
He would not stand for this bullshit, either, but he’s not able to tell you this, because you creeped him off social media already.
The fact of the matter is this:
If members of Fall Out Boy - particularly Joe and Patrick - do not get to spread their wings in the way they need to, creatively, there will eventually be no Fall Out Boy.
Artistically, they’re different people. Methodically, they’re different people. If it’s not possible for both of them to satisfy their creativity all the time in the same band, then there has to be a way for those ideas to be shared with the world, or the band they work on together with cease to exist.
That’s what The Damned Things is for Joe.
That’s what Sect is for Andy.
Joe loves doing The Damned Things, and with one of his childhood heroes to boot, and he has gone out of his way to say - on film - how much he learned from Patrick over the years and how that has influenced this band.
The Damned Things is what will keep Fall Out Boy possible.
This band is Joe’s baby, an expression of his own identity, talent and personal struggles with his mental health, and he deserves this fandom’s support the way he’s supported and sacrificed things for the band we love, all these years.
If you can’t even do that, why are you still here?
So, before you go on your little spiteful Twitter tirades about Joe, who made Fall Out Boy happen and ensured it continued, and gave up everything he wanted to do, to help bring it back, take a step back and realise you’re becoming someone Patrick Stump wouldn’t like.
Is that what you fucking wanted?
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Your writing is amazing!! I’ve been super homesick recently so if you’re still taking fall prompts would you consider doing one where after PR they get to go back to the northeast and Newt gets to have a proper fall for the first time in years. (Not a lot of hay rides and pumpkin patches in Hong Kong) THANK YOU!!!
Anonymous said: Hellomst :) Can I please request 28 and 29 (with possibly some 30 thrown in if you can manage it) for the Autumn Fic Meme you reblogged? (For Newmann ofc :) ) We don't get cold weather over here(currently it's 90 with 82% humidity....) so I gotta live that fall life vicariously
from autumn fic meme here: 28. flannel shirt + 29. hiking (and unofficially: bedsharing and huddling for warmth eyes emoji)
& of course @problemwithtrouble!!! prefacing this by saying: @k-sci-janitor and i did a little collab fic with basically this plot back in march, newt and hermann taking a road trip around new england to look at the changing leaves, so if you want a LONG version of this idea feel free to check that out here
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“Smell that,” Newt says. “Do you smell it?”
"Smell what?” Hermann says.
Newt puts his hands on his hips and takes a long whiff--of the fresh mountain air, of the dying leaves, of plain and simple dirt--and smiles. “Nature, dude. Fall. Fucking fantastic.”
Hermann, meanwhile, wrinkles his nose and takes special care to tuck it beneath his scarf, then takes special care to tuck that into the flannel he borrowed off Newt. He’s been whining about his allergies since they set out this morning and whining about being cold even longer. “Decay,” he says, voice muffled. “Mold. Death.”
“Pretty leaves,” Newt counters.
Hermann shuts up while Newt helps him over a particularly large root and around a felled tree, but the second Newt’s hand slips away from his arm and he’s left to fend for himself once more, it’s back to complaining. “When’s the trail meant to end, anyway?” he says, breath rising up in small white puffs. “I’m starved.”
“I told you to pack a lunch,” Newt says, because he did, about fifty times. (I’ve just eaten breakfast, Hermann said with a little sniff. I’ll be fine.) “I told you you’d get hungry.”
“I didn’t realize we’d be out all day!” Hermann snaps.
It’s only been an hour. They left for their hike at eleven sharp on the easiest trail possible (no incline, a nice, easy, flat loop around the park lake, beginning and ending right by their rented cabin), and they’re already halfway finished. They can’t have more than another hour ahead of them. Hermann’s managed much longer under much worse conditions willingly, and it’s not as if he didn’t have the choice to let Newt go alone. He’s the one that insisted on coming. Still--the more well-fed Hermann is, the less likely it is he’ll annoy the shit out of Newt for that hour and the hours following when they get home. (Newt can already picture Hermann hovering over his shoulder and making snide remarks while Newt tries to cook dinner.)
He fishes an apple from his backpack and tosses it over; Hermann catches it. “Here, just take mine. I made a sandwich too.” He waves his reusable sandwich box. “You want it?”
“What sort of sandwich?” Hermann says, narrowing his eyes.
“Fluff and Nutella,” Newt says.
Hermann makes a face. “The apple is satisfactory.”
“It must be hard to have no taste,” Newt says, and digs into the sandwich himself.
Hermann stops complaining after that, and Newt is left--in peace--to enjoy the scenery and the simple knowledge of it being autumn. He hasn’t had a proper autumn in years. Not since MIT. Maybe not even since before the kaiju. He still decorated the lab for Halloween every year and donned dumb costumes, of course, tracked down as much artificial pumpkin-flavored junk he could find, but it just wasn’t the same. No hay rides. No pumpkin patches. No changing leaves anywhere within decent distance. He explained as much to Hermann when he talked him into this little excursion in the first place: they deserve a good nostalgia-fueled autumn, and together, at that.
Last week, he took Hermann on a hay ride to a pumpkin patch, and they carved pumpkins for their tiny front stoop on the floor of their equally tiny kitchen. (Hermann claimed he’d never done it before, but his design kicked Newt’s design’s ass by about one thousand percent.) The week before that, he sat Hermann down for a good old-fashioned horror movie marathon and threw popcorn at him each time he tried to critique the logic or explain how the science really wasn’t all that accurate. This week, he’s tossed a disgusting amount of his PPDC savings at a log cabin rental in the middle of scenic, autumnal nowhere and only managed to talk Hermann into accompanying him under very select conditions: one, Newt would foot the entire bill, two, Hermann could have the big bed, and three, he’d swear to leave Hermann alone for at least an hour every day to read or knit or brood or whatever the fuck it is Hermann does in his kaiju-free time these days.
Newt agreed to the conditions. Mostly. Half an hour seems more than enough time for Hermann to chill alone, is all.
“Look,” he says. He stops and points through a break in the trees, where the mountainside is newly visible on the horizon: the treetops form a swaying, vibrant blanket of red-orange-yellow that seems to stretch on forever. It’s beautiful. Newt whips out his phone and snaps a quick photo of Hermann framed against it and privately considers having it framed.
"’S just a load of trees,” Hermann grumbles, but Newt catches the ghost of a smile on his face as he turns away.
Dinner is an uninteresting affair of canned clam chowder Newt heats up over the shitty electric stove with no small amount of difficulty. Only one burner is working, and it seems to have doubled in inefficiency since last night. “I’m starting to think we should’ve just gone into town for dinner,” he calls to Hermann from the kitchen; Hermann looks up from his crossword puzzle, eyes owlish behind his glasses, cheeks rosy from the fire he’s nestled himself in front of. He’s still in Newt’s flannel. “Gotten Chinese or something.” He pokes at a lump of clam with the end of a warped plastic stirring spoon. “Ugh.”
“It’s soup,” Hermann says. He bustles in to shove Newt aside and deal with it himself. “How hard can it possibly be?”
“Don’t push me--”
“I’m not pushing, you moron, I’m--”
“It’s the fucking stove,” Newt says. “It’s, like, eighty years old. It’s--”
“Then use a different burner--”
They get the chowder heated up eventually. Hermann takes more than his fair share of both it and the sleeve of saltines Newt cracks open, and when he’s finished, feigns sleep back by the fire so he doesn’t have to help Newt with the dishes. “You’re making breakfast tomorrow,” Newt says, kicking the foot of Hermann’s rocking chair.
Hermann doesn’t even crack an eye when he tries to trip Newt with the end of his cane. Jerk.
After he gets dinner cleaned up, Newt pulls a blanket over his lap and curls up comfortably in the second rocking chair at Hermann’s side. He’s contemplating getting up and finding his stash of s’more stuff for dinner round two (which would be a much more satisfying dinner) when Hermann startles him by patting his hand. “Thank you for cooking,” Hermann says, stiffly and awkwardly, while Newt blinks. “I...appreciate it.”
“Oh,” Newt says. Lately, Hermann’s been working on communicating his emotions better in methods that don’t involve just shouting at Newt. This is probably part of it. Yesterday, he clapped Newt’s shoulder just as stiffly in thanks for driving them here. “No problem.” Newt smiles.
“Or,” Hermann says. “Your attempts at making us dinner, I should say.”
“Ah,” Newt says. Yeah, that makes more sense.
“Seeing as I had to step in--”
“I get it,” Newt says. “Thanks, Hermann.”
He gets another rare Gottliebian smile, though this one seems slightly more amused than the last, and Hermann pats his hand again before pulling away. “What do you have in mind for tomorrow afternoon?” he says. He slips his glasses back on and resumes his puzzle. “The old quarry? A drive into town?”
Newt saw a signpost for the abandoned quarry when they were driving up to their cabin yesterday. It’s only a ten minute hike away. He doubts there’s anything substantial worth studying left in there, maybe some larger chunks of that dusty red rock he’s been finding around, but it could be fun to play geologist for a day nonetheless and show off in front of Hermann. On the other hand--there’s a harvest festival in the town tomorrow, which they also saw a sign for, and Newt’s never been one to pass up rides and junk food. He bets he could even coerce Hermann into getting on a ferris wheel with him. “Whatever you want,” Newt concedes.
Hermann nods. “We ought to wait and see what we’re in the mood for tomorrow.”
Newt watches him fill out another few clues, lulled into a strange relaxation by the crackling of the fire and the scratch of Hermann’s pencil. Hermann himself. Hermann is always unfairly cute when he’s lost in thought like this: he fiddles with his glasses, he frowns, he hms under his breath, he mutters things like no and maybe and it could be to himself. He used to do the same in the lab at his chalkboard. “Forty-two down is spelled wrong,” Newt says. (A strand of Hermann’s hair is sticking up funny. He wants to smooth it down.) “It should be an E, not an A like you have.”
“So it should be,” Hermann says. He fixes it. “I must’ve written it in a hurry. Thank you, Newton.”
“Mmhmm,” Newt says.
It’s all very domestic. Newt thinks he’d like to get used to it.
Hermann takes the big bed again that night as per their agreement. It’s full-sized and lumpy, with a quilt that looks at least a hundred years old, and it sags so deeply in the center Newt is half-worried Hermann will sink down into it and never be seen again. Newt himself takes the small twin bed in the loft above. There’s no central heating, just the fireplace, and it’s a bit of a pain to hustle up and down the stairs to toss on more logs when the fire starts to die, but it sure as fuck beats shivering to death. Or being bitched at by Hermann to death. “They have luxury cabins,” Hermann says, cacaooned in a blanket and watching Newt stoke tonight’s fire, “with bathtubs with jets, and working stoves, and radiators, and yet you’ve condemned us to--”
“Stop whining,” Newt says. He hefts another log onto the fire and has to dodge the resulting spray of sparks. “It’s about the experience. Luxury cabins are for wusses.”
“Hmph,” Hermann declares.
Newt’s woken up three hours later by three things: the intense shivers that wrack his body, the realization that the fire’s gone out, and the heavy pounding of rain on the roof. On the leaky roof. A droplet of water hits Newt’s forehead. Newt curses, louder than he intends, and rolls out of bed to his socked feet. Another raindrop hits his shoulder.
“Newton?” Hermann hisses.
“Sorry,” Newt hisses back. “I didn’t mean to wake you up. Go back to bed.”
“You didn’t,” Hermann says. Normal volume. “I was already awake. It’s cold.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Newt sighs. He tugs a sweater on over his head--the only sweater he owns--and slips down the creaking staircase. “I’ll do up the fire again.”
Or he would’ve, anyway, if their stockpile of logs wasn’t totally used up. Hermann apparently stayed up longer than he did and had been steadily tending to the fire the whole time. A quick foray out to the woodpile confirms Newt’s suspicions: the protective roof didn’t manage to save the other logs from the wind-blown rain, and they’re all totally soaked. Completely unusable. “I should’ve just grabbed more after dinner,” Newt says, kicking off his muddy docs. He finds Hermann crouching at the hearth in front of the pitiful ashy embers with two of Newt’s flannels and the quilt from the bed pulled on. “We’re kinda screwed.”
Hermann mumbles out a stream of curses and something that sounds suspiciously like the luxury cabins would’ve had dry wood. Newt drops down next to him and also tucks himself beneath the quilt. “Do you want to borrow one of my blankets?” he says. “I have an extra up in the loft.”
“You’re getting me wet,” Hermann sniffs, but he shifts the blanket over to give Newt more of it. He’s shivering pretty badly. The guy needs some insulation, man.
“Okay,” Newt says, nursing another thought. “What if we double up?”
This makes Hermann freeze. “Double up?”
“You,” Newt says, “me, together, in your bed. It’ll be warmer.” He grins. “I’ve been told I’m a very good cuddler.” He snakes an arm around Hermann’s waist and squeezes it just to make his point. Hermann jumps.
“Ah,” he says. It could just be a trick of the low light (the single lamp they’ve turned on is resting on the bedside table across the room), but Newt could swear he’s blushing. “Well. That’d be--you don’t have to.”
“It’s no problem,” Newt says, and then lies, because he, on the other hand, can generally get by with his own natural insulation, probably even tonight if he tosses on an extra sweatshirt, “You’d be keeping me warm too. Symbiosis. It’s biology.”
“How scientific,” Hermann says.
“Also,” Newt says, “the roof’s kinda leaking above my bed.”
“Ah.”
Hermann surprises him by automatically adopting the position of little spoon when they slip under the covers. In Newt’s occasional fantasies of sharing a bed with Hermann--occasional, very occasional, he’ll admit to that--Hermann has always been the opposite. He’s got those gangly skinny limbs, you know, perfect to wrap around Newt like a bony octopus. It seems like a shame to waste them. Tonight is probably just a special case. “You’re like a bloody hot water bottle,” Hermann declares after ten minutes.
“Who the fuck still uses hot water bottles?” Newt says against his neck. “Are you some Victorian dandy?”
Hermann bristles. “They’re perfectly common.”
“They’re one step up from tossing a bunch of coals in a pan and calling it a day,” Newt says. “Just buy a space heater. They cost, like, twenty bucks.”
“Fire hazards,” Hermann says.
“You can have mine,” Newt says.
Hermann pinches his arm. “Shut up. I’m trying to sleep.”
“Dick,” Newt says.
He snuggles a little closer to Hermann anyway. Lack of fire and Hermann’s bony elbows aside--between their combined layers of blankets, the gentle rise and fall of Hermann’s chest against his arm, and the patter of rain on the roof, Newt’s feeling pretty damn cozy. Even Hermann’s stopped shivering. (Newt could definitely get used to this.)
Before he can help himself, he plants a small kiss to the borrowed plaid fabric at Hermann’s shoulder, then follows it up with a gentle nuzzle against his neck. “Mm. G’night, Hermann.”
“Goodnight,” Hermann says, oddly breathless. He curls his fingers through Newt’s.
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SUPERMAN: UNDER AN EVIL STAR_A PROPOSED DCEU SEQUEL
Technical delays got in the way of this going out sooner, but I am glad something has put Superman back trending at least a little bit. Where Superman goes next on screen is in the air, so I would like to propose how it could go. I know there’s no way that this could be used, but I thought it would be fun to share. And if the producers of the DCEU want to hire me to write something that they could use, then that wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen. I think @davidmann95 was right: the next Superman film doesn’t need to be a grand statement piece. It just needs to be a good time. There’s this weird thought that Superman is boring, so we need a film that shows he’s fun as all Superman fans know. Snyder had his turn and he has his fans, but it is time for a new direction after the,at best, mixed legacy to Snyder’s turn with Superman. This isn’t to be dismissive or disrespectful, but if Aquaman can make a billion dollars while getting well praised for a far more ‘comic book’ take after Snyder, then why not Superman?
The film opens with Superman saving a family from an apartment building, and across town a protest is happening, police are in riot gear ready for action, and at the front of the crowd is a single known metahuman: Hank Heywood. The protests have been going on for hours now over the death of several homeless vets who were being cleared out, because the city did not want the homeless encampment there any more. Between scenes of the protest being covered by the news, we will see Superman performing a variety of rescues with a smile and kind words. Flying from rescuing around the city, Superman stops a tear gas canister from hitting the crowd and a SWAT member from using advanced equipment to attack Heywood. The whole scene is changed by his presence as the police and protesters back up from their positions, but Superman encourages the protesters to keep peacefully as they were and he finds the commanding officer. They have a talk about the police being unfairly positioned to enforce a status quo that has little to do with serving and protecting, but what the officers did to those vets was wrong. It might be easier for Superman to act, but it does not mean that the officers have any less of a responsibility or that they are shielded from accountability. Superman mentions the need to avoid escalation and how he’s been responding to other emergencies across Metropolis while the police were occupied doing this. The protest continues as Superman marches with them. The goal of the scene is to show Superman trying to advocate other ways beyond force, encourage peace, and standing for justice. While I would like to move Superman pretty left politically to match the spirit of his origins, I can definitely understand hesitation for broader market appeal. But that being said, we still need to show Superman openly caring about more than emergencies. He knows he needs to be a shining example of compassion and strength of character.
We cut to Lois Lane sent abroad to continue being the world’s best reporter at finding new metahumans and identifying where they stand. She just got done with a major story on how quickly Asian nations are developing their own metahuman responses. She’s taking a boat out of northern Japan to try to investigate reports of a strange activity around a crash landing in the ocean in international waters. She’s able to identify several warships and accompanying aircraft from Russia, Japan, China, and the USA. Without much warning, the ships are attacked by unknown forces. She is able to get some photos that help her identify one of the forces as being American. She knows where she has to go, so she grabs her phone. The forces fly off.
We cut to a scene in a suburban neighborhood. There’s a celebration at a home, we see a family celebrating, and while the kids are having fun, some of the adults look uneasy. We follow as a woman carries two drinks; one for herself the other for her husband: Captain Atom. His adult nephew asks how he feels about the party- now with everything changed. He says he’s happy to see the family for any reason. A kid walks up to the nephew and pulls him away, so Angela, his wife, talks and asks him if he’s made a decision: will he push to retire as he was supposed to have by this point or will he continue to serve? He’s not sure in the moment, but there’s a yearning to stay. But then the call comes in: Captain Atom is needed. He kisses his wife, and flies off.
Atom arrives on the scene at a military facility under attack. It’s Manchester Black, telekinetic terrorist, and he’s looking to free his friends after being detained while unconscious after fighting Superman. He escaped, but he’s back to save his friends. Atom demands he stand down, and there’s a dialogue exchange to code Atom as a moderately conservative military type and Black as a punk egoist with a poor understanding of liberal politics. They fight, Coldcast is freed, but before the other members of the Elite can be freed, Atom beats both Black and Coldcast. The goal of these two scenes is to establish Atom as a formidable hero, but also a man who is not certain about his place in the future. How much more does he owe his country, how much longer will he have with his family, and is superhero work something he really wants?
Clark is in his apartment, lots of philosophy and ethics books scattered everywhere, and he’s writing in a journal in Kryptonese. We hear the narration of his writing: Clark loves Lois and asked her how she’s so good at everything, but particularly her writing. She said better is the horizon she’s always chasing so she never stops. He’s applied this to his time as Superman and has been reading up to try to learn in order to do better. He feels like he could be doing more, but must walk a fine line in order to be the hero he wants to be and not the monster the world fears he could be. This caused him to push his powers to the limits, and in that he saw beyond anything he had could have seen before and was profoundly moved by what he saw. This moment of clarity changed him. He does not want to repeat his past- no more Zods. Everyone deserves life. He needs to balance out pushing for peaceful action and his awesome might whenever possible. The question isn’t what does his power let him do, but how does he use this power to do the most good?
Clark gets a call from Lois. She needs a ride and he needs to act quickly. He pulls his shirt open and there’s a gust of wind. We cut to Atom in an office with General Lucy Lane, having taken her father’s old post. They talk about how Black must have found the base, but Atom quickly pushes that aside. He wants to know where the Pentagon officially stands on his current situation. Lane tells him that his request has been postponed until further research on his new biology is complete. Atom is not happy with this as he was finally hoping to retire to civilian life. A call comes in, and Atom is needed again. He grumpily accepts the mission, and as Atom leaves the room, Lois enters.
Superman is seen flying around the Earth searching for the individuals Lois pictured, and he’s in luck when he sees them flying towards California. He stops them over the coast and tries to reason with them, but they are unresponsive. He sees something on them all that seems unnatural: starfish-looking creatures. They attack without warning, and at first their unusual powers working together have him at a disadvantage. The battle moves to land, and as Superman struggles against his attackers, the arrival of a peer changes the course of the battle. Captain Atom proves to be a great help, but before the battle can really change tides, the four leave. Atom is about to pursue, but Superman stops him to ask him what he knows. They stare down each, but Atom decides to tell the truth: they’re the Ultramarine Corps, the Pentagon’s best effort in the superhuman arms race and as a last resort against Superman himself. But they appear to have gone rogue, and it’s Atom’s job to stop them no matter what. Superman thinks the starfish creature is responsible for their behavior and he will help stop them, but he’s not happy about them. The two pursue at hypersonic speeds.
Meanwhile, Lois is trying to keep pace with Lucy as Lucy is trying to monitor the situation with the Corps and the crash site. Lois had already been researching the Pentagon’s efforts in metahuman biotech, but she wants to know two important things: what have been the deployments of the Corps and how many others are currently in development. Lucy asks Lois why she thinks Lucy will talk, because it’s been more than a year since their father passed and they haven’t spoken since then, so why would she start now. Lois is taken aback not having realized it had been that long. Lois says she’s sorry. A senior officer tries to make Lois leave as they enter a plane, but Lucy tells him that Lois is fine to travel. She still does not answer Lois and makes her stay behind as she enters a secure command section of the plane. A door closes in Lois’ face as she tries to get through to her little sister; she did not mean for it to be like this. The advanced plane takes off.
Approaching urban areas, Superman and Atom catch up to the Ultramarine Corps and knock them off course to more isolated areas. Atom is paired off with Pulse-8 and 4D, while Superman fights Glob and Warmaker-1. We cut back and forth between the fights as Atom and Superman struggle against their opponents. Superman takes the lead when Glob tries to crush him in his hyper-pressurized body, but Superman takes a deep breath-taking all of Glob inside his lungs- and blows him back out as an ice structure. This kills the starfish, and after a moment, Glob returns to normal stating that being blown out like that was one the grossest things that has happened to him. Warmaker-1 flies off, and Glob tells Superman to chase after him; he’ll be ok. We cut back to Atom who is struggling against 4D until he opens his perception beyond his limits, which allows him to track her atomic movements. He is able to pin her down long enough to destroy the starfish creature. With her down, Pulse-8 proves to be an easier opponent, or so it seems. Superman catches backup to Warmaker-1 in front of the White House. He knows he must be very careful, so he simply takes every blow Warmaker-1 can deliver to keep the collateral damage minimal as he pushes ever closer to his opponent. Superman eventually grabs and rips off the starfish creatures, which struggles to escape his grasp. Warmaker-1falls to the ground, but gets back up and shakes Superman’s hand and thanks him for ending the nightmare. Superman is visibly hurt, but seen healing in the sunlight.
Back on the plane and very near the crash site, General Lane gets word that the Corps has been defeated, but they’ve lost contact with Atom. Lucy calls Lois in. Before Lucy can say her piece, Lois apologizes again. Growing up in a military family wasn’t easy for her, and since Lucy always sided with their dad, it was hard for her to keep up family relationships when their father was so disappointed with Lois. She felt isolated and buried herself in her work. Lucy says she’s sorry too. She never meant for Lois to feel isolated. She wanted to make Dad proud by being the youngest general in history, but she let her career isolate her as well. They hug, but Lucy pulls away because she needs Lois to be Lois Lane. Lucy tells her the world is being invaded by an unknown alien force and that the Corps behavior is a direct result of this, which means a form of mind control is in play. Lucy needs Lois to be the independently trusted voice to the world before paranoia and misinformation spreads too quickly before the world can unite and act swiftly against a threat to the very autonomy of all people everywhere. Lois says she’s not letting her off the hook about the metahumans just because of an alien invasion, and starts a livestream the Daily Planet is trying to spread across the globe with their partners. The plane begins to move unexpectedly. Enemy combatants are on their way.
Superman sees Lois’ broadcast, and flies off to the Pacific Ocean. Flying down from a shortcut in low orbit, Superman is intercepted by possessed Captain Atom. The two struggle as Superman can see from a vast distance that foreign metahumans being controlled by the starfish aliens are after the plane Lois is on. Atom is raging against the control of the alien and telling Superman to get it off him, but Atom is generating K-radiation. Despite the pain, Superman acts quickly to throw Atom off balance to rip the alien away. Before being fully pulled off, the alien makes Atom release a concentrated blast of K-radiation, which knocks him out of the sky. Regaining his senses, Atom dives into the ocean to save a sinking Superman and carries him off above the clouds stating that Superman won’t die on his watch. At the very edges of the atmosphere Superman begins to wake up. He thanks Atom, and Atom says he owed him one after Superman caught him from falling from the moon. He tells Superman to heal up quickly, because his family and every other family on Earth is in danger and Atom can’t do this alone, so he flies off to General Lane. We see Superman push off fully into space to face the Sun.
The plane is rocked as Atom passes by to intercept the pursuing metahumans, and several sonic booms can be heard. On the plane, Lois narrates the battle. At this point we see Atom fighting several identifiable metahumans, but exactly who depends on budget and production limitations. I would personally like to see at least August General in Iron, a Rocket Red squad, and Cosmo Racer. I definitely would like to see more heroes to establish that the DCEU has really expanded when the camera was not looking, but I can understand not being able to have everyone. From the plane's view, we see a giant tentacle rise out of the water and seemingly millions of smaller starfish are flung in the direction of land. Atom is trying to play defensively to protect the plane, but this means taking a beating. Cosmo Racer proves the hardest to keep away, but right when Atom thinks he’s failed a red streak knocks him down.
We see Superman ripping the starfish away and burning it. The Racer, an alien themself, says they know this being. It is a Starro the Conqueror; no known planet has survived contact with a conqueror. Superman thinks it's time to do the impossible then. Another tentacle rises out the seas and sends millions more starros into the upper atmosphere to ride the jetstreams. Superman and the Racer nod and fly off from each other. The Racer joins Atom and the two aim to even the battlefield by removing the starros. Superman flies to the edge of the cloud of starros and begins to fly in circles around creating a wind tunnel he can lead them back to the sea with. Despite his efforts to keep away from him, the cloud of starros uses their psychic power collectively to interfere and they are able to land on him. The tunnel stops, but they fall back into the ocean. Several starros on Superman try to break his will and he has hallucinations. A satellite feed beamed to the plane shows this to Lucy and Lois. Lois starts to talk to Superman knowing he can still hear her. Her words help, and Superman is able to break free control of the starros. Atom and Racer are successful in removing all the starros from the metahumans. Atom’s containment suit looks damaged.
Superman joins the other heroes in the sky. The Conqueror Prime rises from the ocean floor. The heroes are ants in relation to its size, and it is teeming with millions of smaller starros of various sizes and colors. The heroes devise a strategy on how to defeat the Conqueror Prime. Racer stays behind thanks to his speed, while the Rockets and General flank Superman and Atom as they try to get beneath the alien to throw it back into space. Thousands of starros fly up at the group and they fight through this obstacle, but they have to be careful because if even one of them is taken, it could derail the entire plan. They get close, but one of the Rockets is taken and they are forced to retreat for a second pass. But even as they try to make a quick turn around, more and more Starros are being launched into the upper atmosphere and sent into the ocean. August General in Iron says that they must stop the spread or getting rid of the Prime will mean nothing. Even with their awesome powers, it seems to be far too much. Then sonic booms are heard and Superman can hear Warmaker-1 speaking on an ultrasonic frequency; Glob will break off the Corps to help Superman and Atom take care of the Prime while the Corps leads the other heroes in stopping the spread. Aerodynamically pointed, Glob meets Superman and Atom mid air to form an aquatic shell and they dive below the water. Warmaker-1 and the General take to the ocean as Pulse-8 and 4D work with the remaining Rockets to stop the ariel Starros. Cosmo Racer fights the possessed Rocket from reaching the plane with General Lane. We cut back and forth between the three groups as they fight the Starros.
As Superman and Atom push the Prime into space, Atom is struck and his suit breaks containment. Glob wraps around him to help contain him, but in the last bit of atmosphere, Glob can hear Superman say Atom should not be afraid, he will be fine. As Glob falls to Earth with Atom inside him freaking out about dooming the Earth with his suit breaking, Glob tells him to snap the hell out of it and that Superman says he will be fine. Atom cannot understand, but he takes a deep breath and uses his atomic vision. He sees and understands in a moment of clarity, and rips his suit off revealing a blue-hued man. This will transition the more traditional look towards a version of the Pax Americana look. Superman can hear the terrifying psychic words of Prime in his mind as it tells him to give up, but he smiles as he looks down to Earth. Every reason not to is in his sight and he pushes Prime into zero gravity, then circles the Earth at blinding speeds, and uses the gravity sllingshot to knock Prime into space at a velocity that will send it beyond the reach of Sun’s gravity.
The international heroes work to stop the spread of the Starros, but still are not able to stop all of them as they seek hosts. But then, a blue light grabs all the Starros simultaneously, and Atom can be seen manipulating them and sending them out into space. Cheers from across the world as Lois streams this amazing event and the heroes hug. Arriving back from space, Superman stops next to Atom and they shake hands.
Relieved, Lois ends her livestream, but does not turn off her camera. She asks Lucy how many more metahumans the Pentagon has. Lucy frowns, and not giving an exact number states a few. Note: in a post-credits scene, this could easily be used to introduce Wildstorm characters into the DCEU if desired. Lois points out that the world almost ended within several hours, and they’re lucky that there was a clear enemy. She asks her sister where this race ends, because next time the enemy may not be so clear. Lucy takes her point, but she says the world is getting stranger and more dangerous. Large scale response will be needed, but she understands what Lois is saying about escalation. It will not be easy to change course, but Lucy says she’ll do her best to ensure that the world won’t be consumed in this arms race. With that being the last word, Lois turns the camera off and then asks when they’re going out for drinks. It’s been too long.
We see Superman and Atom back at Atom’s place, and Angela is very excited to meet Superman. Superman is flattered, and he’s happy to see Atom have such a loving home. Atom asks Superman how he knew. He says he could see that Atom could see like him, but just had not reached that point yet. He knew as soon as Atom could see like him that everything would be fine. Atom asks if this is how he sees the world all the time, and Superman says not all the time, but he knows the feeling Atom is talking about. Atom cries. His wife and the world has never looked so beautiful before. Angela embraces Atom. After a moment, he says he is retiring no matter what his superiors say. He tells Superman that he won’t be fighting again, but if Superman ever needs help, he always has a friend. Superman says he’s happy to hear that and asks Atom that even if he does not plan on fighting to use his position to push for a better world. He understands why the Corps was made, but he hopes Atom will help push for ensuring they are deployed responsibly, held accountable, and used as a last resort. After all, we’re all we have and we need to trust each other. A scream in the distance can be heard, Atom nods and Superman flies off. The End.
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Barnes and Nobles Bookstore Report 2020 on Diversity
For those who are new to this... What I do every year since I was 13 was go to the bookstore, usually in summer and take an overview look at what is being shelved and sold. This, of course, changed with the internet. It’s a way for me (and maybe you) to get a sense of what the industry is and isn’t doing, particularly with diversity. I also check local bookstores (But my local one is closed due to covid this year). I usually note what has an hasn’t changed. It’s something that authors should be doing anyway.
I don’t do it more often because it’s usually depressing. And I don’t do it near holiday seasons, since that can skew the book selection unfairly. So I usually pick a non holiday-heavy month and one that will not skew my numbers (like say, February, which is Black History Month)
I pay attention to the following:
- Where the books are shelved.
- How many times a book is shelved (in different areas)
- Who gets the most real estate and a rough guess as to why. (Usually because they are white cis and male.... no lie)
- Which diversity gets the most real estate
- What are the labels on the shelves and if those are separate or different from previous years.
- I generally skip the children’s section since there is a yearly report for that.
- Demographics of the area visually apparent v. numbers of the area itself. Who are they supposed to sell to (and usually failing to sell to) Blame the Anthropology... I’m well-trained to look for such things.
- All Bookends and displays.
- I usually look at all sections of the bookstore and take notes, in order.
- If I have access to internet, then I also look up the authors, if I can to find out their diversity and spread.
- I also take lots of pictures.
These are my notes for this year.
Demographics of the area outside of the bookstore: About 50/50 with the majority being Latinx (Black and Latinx mainly) Mostly women. (It was early, though--maybe white)
Last demographics of area 2010, granted 36,226 (71.1%) White, 2,573 (1.3%) Black, 531 (0.3%) Native American, 31,434 (16.4%) Asian (6.9% Filipino, 5.4% Korean, 1.3% Chinese), 122 (0.1%) Pacific Islander, 12,146 (6.3%) from other races, and 8,687 (4.5%) (Latinx is around 17%)
The first two bookcases at the front of the store, were mostly white cis male authors. In the new author case, this was true, as well, and mostly had well-knowns.
Considering the Latinx population, I’m always kinda feeling like why aren’t there more Latinx books on the shelves?
White and black authors. But the black authors are only there because of Black Lives Matter, which feels like it’s catering to the white people who want to know what this is about, rather than the demographics of the bookstore itself.
The Magazine section, Vogue, in particular did have PoCs on it.
- The Art History Section is and always is really white. I could count the PoCs on the shelf of 6 tall shelves on one hand. All of the How to draw Manga books are by white people. I know this because I’ve looked up the authors in the past. And it’s not that Japanese don’t publish books in English with instructions, BTW... so I always find that a bit strange, especially since the author they choose doesn’t really have a manga style 100% but mixes in American Comic books. (But that’s a separate thing.) They mostly had known PoC artists, acceptable to white people.
- The Cookbooks don’t cover Africa. They had one African American cookbook which interested me. (Labeled Soul food and had a Black author), but the books mostly were for “French” in the international section. A few Korean (2-3) and I didn’t spot many other regionalities. I looked for Indian, for example.
- There were SFF books front of the store, which surprised me. Might be because there were PoC authors and the majority were PoC. (Also Black Lives Matter skewing)
- All of the seating was removed (probably because of covid) I usually use it to sort through books I want...
- No Surprise, the same location for featured “classics” as last year and all but one were written by white men. The token book? Arabian Nights. I’m not sure that really counts since it was compiled by a white guy. (Believe me, I had thought like where is Jorge Borges? Marquez? etc) Most of the authors were white cis and het too...
- The recommended section... by looking, mostly white cis het men.
- Danielle Steele was shelved in General Fiction section. Actually several genres were shelved together there. Some Science Fiction, Some Fantasy, Some Romance, Some Historical Fiction, etc. There was no special section for Historical Fiction. (Not popular? Used to be back in the day...) There’s no LGBTQIA, women’s or African American section, even in the non-fiction. I have mixed feelings about taking it out of the non-fiction section. I like it combined in the Fiction section. They also took out all of the sub labeling except for major transitions. (Labeling individual shelves as containing something)
- Diminished Latinx books in the Classics (Shelf) section. This has not changed... and it still ticks me off how white and cis het (also leans towards male) it is.
- Increased black authors overall. Octavia Butler was Shelved twice, for example. Toni Morrison got a bookshelf all to herself (probably because of her recent passing). Nnedi Okorafor actually showed up on the shelf. Rena Barron was triple shelved--once at the front of the store and in two sections of the bookstore... So apparently B&N have a lot of faith in her book.
- Overall, improved balance between men and women (except in the classics and recommended sections. I feel stabby about that.)
- The covers were a lot less offensive overall. (Though I had a few head scratchers on why that cover for that book, but that’s getting into graphic design quibbles) The PoC books actually had PoCs on the cover. And some of the covers were redone to have PoCs on the cover. There were no sexualized women on the out turned books. The Mystery/Thriller books, for example, has a trend of being symbolic and drawn. Kinda felt like I was staring at the old Chick Lit.
- There were less books shelved overall, because of the shelving practices of out turning the books so people could see the covers. (Even less than last year)
- The Romance Section ticked me off since I could count the amount of PoCs on the cover with one hand. But the covers have improved a bit. Jim Hines won the cover war... There was ONE LGBT book and ONE interracial book. It’s like PoCs don’t fall in love at all. What gives?
- Science Fiction and Fantasy were separated again. The amount of shelves for YA and SFF were about equal. (Which drastically changed from last year). This meant that the genre fiction was mostly equally shelved. (Mystery/Thriller might have gotten a smidgen less). The Science Fiction section was astoundingly male cis het. I even looked for authors I knew who were queer/poc, etc and couldn’t find them. Anne McCaffrey was gone completely, BTW. Oh and JK Rowling didn’t make it to the main shelves (She was in the audiobook section). lol Someone was mad. So win one, lose the rest.
- All of the “recommended race” books were written by People of color and well known. Win~ But all on black-white relations except one. (A book on my wishlist, but I pre-promised myself to not buy anything... so it was difficult to leave that one behind...)
- The people with the most shelving were Shakespeare (Got his own section), Stephen King, and I forgot the third author, but he’s male cis and het too... Yeah... I know. And yes, there are authors more prolific than these authors too in history who are also PoC.
- All of the books were from known and popular authors rather than unknown authors, mainly. Not like that rare find where you’re browsing and you go, “OMG, never heard of this person before.” So for me, who likes to browse and find that rare find it’s not as fun. I’ve found books pre-internet that were like that in Barnes and Nobles no less.
Overall: Improved, but I have this irking feeling the increase in black books is specifically to the Black Lives Matter movement. They care more about publicity than the cause, otherwise, other PoC groups wold have gotten better rep. Also kinda sad at the lack of LGBT. The widest diversity in the store is still YA. And as every year, I’m super sad about the lack of rep for Latinx. Seriously, didn’t you give it a thought that you might be in an area that’s not white? (I know the “But you could complain” thing... but it never worked in the past either and I have written to corporate, just so you know.)
I pretty much left with this feeling of elation that it was improved, but this feeling of sickness that they were still, STILL catering to white people. (Cis het, etc). Yeah, depressing enough to want to marathon several PoC shows to undo the implicit bias type of feeling. And this area, as shown isn’t lacking in PoCs. Also, kinda have to state, I wish it was more like a treasure hunt... sometimes that’s the best part of going to a bookstore.
Disappointed about the lack of a non-fiction LGBTQIA... kinda had a wish the Julie Sondra Decker might show up in that section. My ace little heart.
I took 108 pictures as photo proof of my assertions (Again, Anthro training). BTW, Rena Barron should thank her publicist for convincing for the triple shelving...
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