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tojisun · 2 years

Note

Seeing toji w a younger reader is cool and all but how ab we spice it up a bit? him w an older reader, who’s a parent just like him. Maybe w a age diff of 2-5? Bonus points if they are taller than him and start calling HIM kiddo cause of it. This man is like 5’9 built like a cupcake,

DELICIOUS! ABSOLUTELY DELICIOUS!

(split into two parts: one just older reader, the other is of older & taller reader!) i had a vision but i didnt know how to integrate one to the other, so two parts it is. i hope you’ll like this one <33

> 01: fluff // 02: more mature in content. lapslock

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i. of soft lilac

toji met you when spring was just breaking into summer, the weather split between chilly mornings and boiling afternoons, often leaving toji regretting-then-thanking his decision to layer for the day.

you were just another among the throngs of people milling about, your hands full of groceries, arms straining and forehead sweating as you continued the trek home. you were ordinary, just a face in a crowd. then your plastic bags ripped, the produce spilling and rolling on the concrete. the eggs were some of the unfortunate victims of the broken plastic, and toji’s face pinched at hearing the resounding cracks.

“motherfucker,” you whispered, voice curling into an exhausted hiss as you stayed rooted on your spot, dejectedly watching your rolling produce.

toji still didn’t know what compelled him to move to you, but one thing led to another and there he was, arms full with the undamaged grocery items that were left as he walked you home.

“name’s toji,” he said, turning to you with a polite smile. you smiled back, eyes crinkling and cheeks flushed, and toji blinked, enthralled.

you told him yours and toji murmured it softly, mouthing the way it rolled in his tongue, before sucking on his teeth. it felt right.

being good at making small talk wasn’t something that toji could really be proud of, so when you bulldozed from one topic to another, filling the empty space with your words, toji eased in comfort. he nodded and grunted appropriately in response, not really focused on what you were saying but more on how you were saying it.

there was a certain air around you, one that toji couldn’t really place well. you weren’t necessarily loud or even quiet, and yet toji couldn’t keep his eyes away. odd.

“well, here we are,” you said and toji turned to the quaint little house, nose scrunching when he realized it was in the same block as his.

he cleared his throat, stomping on the rising blush on his cheeks when you looked at him with a questioning smile. “i live here too.”

you gasped, eyes widening and in delight. cute.

what.

“that’s great! hey, do you want to join me and tsumi for dinner? it’s to thank you for helping me all the way here.”

“tsumi?”

you hummed, unlocking the door. “my sweet little angel, tsumiki! she’s in her kindergarten right now though.”

“oh,” he said as he padded into your home. “i have a kid too. he’s, uh, he’s three.”

you gasped excitedly again, spinning to look at him, lips stretched out wide as you skipped a bit in giddy.

christ. that was. that was cute.

“oh, toji!” toji really, really liked the way you say his name. “this is exciting! maybe they could be childhood friends? tsumi doesn’t have many friends in her school. her teacher said something about being too mature for her age.” you scrunched your nose in distaste. “they said it must be because her dad, my late husband, is, well, gone. i mean they’re right but it’s so weird that they have an opinion about our household? i dunno, i’m just. tired of hearing it, i guess?”

he grunted. “nah, you’re right.” he placed the rest of the grocery items on the counters. “it’s really not their place to comment about your business. what? they expect you to find someone new just because of their little comments?”

you snorted. toji grinned a bit, feeling oddly proud of making you smile.

“about the dinner,” he said after a minute, “i’d love that.”

“great! are there any allergies that i should be mindful of?”

“gumi says he’s allergic to peppers but he really isn’t. kid just hates his veggies. i don’t have any.” toji paused, poking his tongue on the inside of his cheek, thinking. then, quietly, he added, “wife’s gone.”

“oh,” you uttered, soft but not pitying. toji felt his shoulders sag in relief. “…so should i give your son peppers or would that make me a bad host?”

toji looked up, scarred lips stretching into a smile. “give the boy peppers.”

you laughed, shaking your head slightly, and toji felt. well. he felt like this was what it must be to be able to breathe again.

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toji picked up megumi from the daycare and when he told his son about the dinner, the boy was a bit cowed at the idea of meeting strangers. it all melted right away when he met tsumiki, the two bonding quickly.

dinner came out great.

you and toji shared secretive smiles when the boy sat down excitedly only to groan at seeing the peppers on his plate. toji thought he would’ve left them like he always did, but megumi saw how tsumiki was nibbling on hers and toji stifled a laugh when he saw his son attempting to eat one slice.

sure the rest were left untouched, but megumi was able to finish one whole slice of the green peppers without retching so toji counted that as a win.

and because toji was not an absolute cretin, he brought dessert—a strawberry shortcake, both megumi and tsumiki’s apparent favourite.

he helped you wash the plates, while the kids played with tsumiki’s toys in the living room. it was a mundane chore, but toji felt so at home, learning so much of you just like how you learned a lot about him.

toji found himself wishing the day would extend longer, but megumi’s just a boy and soon, the kid was yawning, exhausted and ready to retire for the day.

toji left your home with a heavy bag of leftovers, a handful of his dozing son, and a heart clenched with so much yearning.

the meetups soon became frequent.

sometimes, toji would fathom how you were so quick to get along with him. it wasn’t like you two had similarities or the same interests, but he always felt comfortable around you.

perhaps because you are a single parent too or maybe because you are four years older than him, but whatever it was, toji felt like he’s found someone who he feels safe with.

it would be months later when toji finally realized what it was that was stored in the pockets of his chest.

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toji’s heart flutters as he gazes up at you, his head pillowed by your lap. his eyes feel drowsy, exhaustion settling deep into his bones, but toji fights it desperately because he wants to be in this moment with you.

you chuckle, shaking your head lightly, endeared by his actions.

“my love,” you whisper, voice soft and enamoured, and toji’s breath hitches all over again at the attention. “you are just so precious, aren’t you?”

a mmrff sound rumbles from toji’s throat in response as he ducks his head down, tearing his eyes from your kind ones, and burrowing his face on your belly. you giggle at the action, your fingers ceasing their massaging of his scalp to pinch toji’s bright cheeks.

“see?” you say, breathless. “the most precious.”

toji’s lungs constrict, his eyes burning. he feels flushed, like warmth enveloped him whole until he is melting, skin and bones meshing into a fleshy pool of toji and his affections for you.

toji has never felt this way.

like the world and everything in it was made for him, and you and your hands, soft in the right spaces but callused in age, served them all to him raw. like all the love that you have for him is unable to be stored in your being so you give him the universe.

the stars.

the endless infinity of the skies. all of them, just for him, from you.

toji feels like weeping.

“i love you, my precious one,” you utter.

“me too,” he replies. “i love you too.”

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ii. of deep ivy

toji flushes as he feels your fingers caress his cheeks, booping his nose twice, before finally tangling themselves in his hair. you laugh when he rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance even when he steps into your space, arms wrapping around your waist.

he weighs a choice in his head, you see it from his eyes, before toji pushes his face to rest on your breast. you giggle, amazed at the sight.

toji’s lips pout—oh how adorable this man is—and he angles his head to peer at you. “what,” he says.

“my pretty boy,” you coo. “comfy down there?”

you giggle again when toji shoots you a glare before his eyes sparkle with mischief.

oh? your brows quirk in anticipation, and toji just smirks at you.

toji turns, but still never breaking eye contact, as he begins to nuzzle his face on your breasts. gently. fondly. teasingly.

a soft gasp flutters from your lips, your cheeks staining and your eyes narrowing at the action. toji’s smirk grows wider, stretching into a full-grin, proud of himself.

ah, you think, always a cheeky brat.

in response, you tug at toji’s hair, pushing it back until the column of his neck is exposed. he grunts, surprised, and you watch as he swallows, throat bobbing.

toji looks beautiful like this. angry, defiant, but still bending at your hold. you know how strong he truly is, it was the catalyst to this budding romance, after all, so something about toji folding this strength into himself to allow you to commandeer him has your heart stuttering.

you dip your head down to ghost a kiss on toji’s neck, smiling when goosebumps rise on his skin at the feeling. a purr reverberates from the base of your throat, then, “good boy.”

toji breathes in sharply.

you hear before seeing the flurry of movements, and the next thing you know, you are backed on the wall, toji’s shorter frame caging you. a leg is propped in between your legs, his sharp eyes pinning you with burning intensity.

you smirk, unwilling to recoil.

“now, now,” you tut. “this isn’t how good boys act. i thought you’re striving to be polite. what happ–”

searing lips lock with yours, devouring hungrily, leaving your words to evaporate into the air. a surprised keening sound echoes from your mouth, but even that toji eats.

toji kisses like he is angry. and he is so, so angry at this world, but never at you.

you’ve known toji when he was at his lowest. you remember the bruised knuckles, the blood trickling from the corner of his lips—the scar never fully faded, and toji pretends that he isn’t bothered by the sight of it—the cuts that marred his torso. you remember the angry eyes, the fury that coiled in his irises with no way out.

“trust me,” you told him then.

“okay,” he said.

toji kisses like he knows you love him even when he is angry. and you do.

you kiss him with the same ferocity, pulling him close. your hands clutch at his shirt, grounding yourself before getting too drunk.

your lungs burn, the breath in you sizzling until the need to pull away grows, expanding ever-so slowly, before you are breaking the kiss, gulping in air hungrily.

toji grunts in distaste but he pauses, barely holding himself back, and gazes up at you. you smile, your hand coming up to brush his hair away from his eyes, pushing them back until they are awkwardly quaffing his forehead.

oh how toji is so beautiful like this.

you cup his cheeks, your thumbs running over his cheekbones softly. “feeling better, kid?” you ask.

toji takes a moment to gather himself—a shaky breath, narrowed eyes easing, tensed shoulders sagging—before saying, “yeah.”

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#suns.rq #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #jjk x reader #toji fluff #toji fushiguro fluff #jjk #spoiling toji with all the love in the world because he needs that <33 #suns.f #suns #anon #ask

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raineydays411 · 3 years

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My Father's daughter pt 3

Tony Stark x daughter!reader

Summary: Back at the Tower, Y/n has a talk with Pepper.

a/n: ohhh another part finished!! some new characters will be revealed next part and i’m so great full for @social-media-imagines-by-me fir helping me create them💕💕

You were furious.

You stormed into your room and slammed the door, finding satisfaction in the loud bang it produced. You then ripped through your drawers and closet, pulling on some work out clothes and some gloves. You then marched out of the room, slamming the door again, startling Sam and Bucky who happened to be passing by.

"Geez kid, slam it a little harder I don't think it fell off the hinges yet." Sam jokes, but you were in no joking mood so you swirled around with fire in your eyes.

"You okay doll?" Bucky softly asks, pushing a frightened Sam to the side. You sigh, knowing it's not fair to take out your anger on them.

"Sorry Sam, it's just...my biological mom is here and wants me to move in with her."

"Oh..." Bucky says, not good with things like this, " Do you want me to like...kill her or..."

"NO" You laugh, " It's just I haven't seen her in nine years and she has the audacity to come up here like it's nothing?!"

Your anger returns, " She thinks that just because she pushed me out of her vagina"

The two men cringe at the words

"That she can just claim me? That's not how it works!" You shout, " And, she brought her fucking husband. The man she left us for! Who does that?!"

Bucky looks at Sam, mentally asking him what they should do. Sam just rolls his eyes and turns back to you.

"Come on kid, it looks like you wanna punch something."

and with that he lead you to the training room where Steve was training with Peter.

"Come on queens, you gotta stay on your feet" Steve k=jokes as he, again, trips Peter.

"Mr. Rogers, do you think we should take a break?" Peter pants.

You stride pass them, not bothering to say hi. They look at Sam and Bucky for an explanation and just get a shake of the head.

"Hey Y/n that's my punching" Steve started to say when he saw you throw a hard punch to the bag, "Nevermind..."

You ignore the group behind you, opting to pummel the poor punching bag in front of you.

Your mind flashes back to your mother and her words.

"A girl needs her mother"

*punch*

"Oh petal I wanted to call"

*punch* *punch*

"Come to Gotham. Meet your siblings!"

*BANG*

You look down to see the punching bag flew off the hook and is spilling sand on the floor. You were confused, as you knew you weren't strong enough to do that, not even when you were angry.

"Wow, I guess Cap didn't secure that hook again."

You jump, not expecting someone to be there, as you heard Sam, Bucky, Steve, and Peter leave. You turn to see Pepper there looking at the bag in surprise. You sigh, stepping away from the mess and taking off your gloves. You make your way to the bench and take a swig of water.

"Did you need something Pep?" You ask, avoiding eye contact.

"Well, i was just wondering if my kid was okay. But given the fact that you punched that bag like it would restore your honor.."

You knew you shouldn't have showed her Avatar.

"I'm assuming your not." She finishes.

You give her a half smile, looking down at your hands.

"Y/n" She says, " Talk to me."

You finally speak, "Why now?"

Pepper frowns, understanding that small phrase, ' I don't know."

"She's not my mother." You state, " She...she might have been once but now?"

Pepper nods," I love you."

You smile, the words reassuring you, " I love you too Pep."

"Come on, your messing up your manicure." She says with a smile, standing and extending a hand towards you. You feel your demnor soften and your mood lighten. Pepper always managed to make you feel better.

"Yeah okay..thanks." You say, taking her hand and letting her pull you from the bench, " Are you hungry? Cause I am>"

"Y/n we just ate!"

"Like an hour ago"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Days went by and you hadn't heard a peep from Christine. It was like she went off to lick her wounds and just decided not to reach out again.

Which didn't bother you one bit.

But apparently the universe wanted to fuck with you because when you came home from a day out with Peter, there was your mother, Bruce Wayne, and all six million of her fucking kids sitting on the couch.

"What the fuck?" You say causing the attention to turn to you.

"Language" Peter says, You smile softly at him before then turning to glare at Tony.

"Don't look at me, it was your moth-uh Peppers idea." Tony stumbled, looking rather uncomfortable sharing a drink with the man that his...wife? girlfriend?... whatever she was left him for.

"Pep what?" You asking, softening your glare because you'd be damned if you disrespected her.

"I just think it'd be best if we clear the air and get everything out on the table." Pepper said in that tone she uses when she's dealing with difficult people or the press. You called it her CEO tone.

"Now, go take your bags upstairs and wash up. And I'll pretend that you aren't an hour late"

"It was Peter's idea..." You mumbled and walking to the stairs that lead to the bed rooms.

"It was not!" Peter shouts following you to the rooms to help with the bags.

Christine watched as her daughter walked out of the room, playfully arguing with Peter. It was as if she were a whole different person, carefree and playful. Totally different from when she was glaring and stiff when talking to her. It broke her heart hearing Tony refer to Pepper as her Mother rather than Christine. But what did she expect?

Damian scoffed catching her attention, "Mother I do not see why you've dragged us here, that girl didn't even acknowledge us."

"Damian, enough" Bruce said, not looking away from his awkward conversation with Tony.

"Gee if only I could do that with our kids." Tony mutters into his drink.

"Does Y/n argue often?" Bruce asks trying to engage in conversation.

Tony laughs before fondly speaking, " Sort of. She isn't the type to back down when she thinks something is right. There was this one time I caught her arguing with one of my business partners about his "condescending tone and misogynistic attitude"."

""And did she apologize after?"

"Hell no. She glared at me and told me apologizing just for his ego would be demeaning her experiences as a woman. Although to be fair he was an asshole."

Bruce chuckles, " She sounds like a well rounded young woman. How old was she then?"

"Ah about 10, it was funny seeing this little girl argue in a Justin Bieber shirt argue about the patriarchy with a full grown man."

Bruce and Tony shared a laugh, picturing the scene.

"You must be very proud of her." Bruce mentions after they quieted down. Tony let a small smile escape.

" I am. She's had a rough life, and I..." Tony trails off, " She means everything to me. Without her...I don't think I'd be the same person I am today."

And with that, Tony downed his drink and stood, " Want another?"

Bruce smiled and accepted, watching Tony leave. He can tell that the man was close to his daughter. A bond that formed due to a loss, they both grew from it and grew closer. He understood, thinking about his own children.

Pepper and Christine were having a somewhat similar conversation, although it was a little more tense.

"So...Pepper-"

"Virginia." Pepper said, cutting her off.

"Excuse me?"

"My name is Virginia. Pepper is a nickname my family calls me."

"Oh. Okay, Virginia, how long have you known Y/n and Tony?"

"Oh about nine or so years. I was promoted to assistant when I saw how much of a mess Tony was." Pepper said casually.

Dick and Jason tensed, overhearing the tense conversation between the two mothers. But before Dick could interrupt Jason sat him back down.

"I wanna see what happens."

Christine continued, " And when did you become a..more permanent around the house?"

"When I saw that Y/n the one taking care of Tony." Pepper said in a serious tone, "She was the one making sure he didn't choke on his vomit and eating cereal as his flings walked out the room. Then he got kidnapped...and y/n was alone. So I made sure she’d never be alone again.”

Christine heart sank. She knew about the whole kidnapping thing. Why she didn't step in, she doesn't know. It's just another thing she regrets to this day.

Before Pepper could continue, she heard two sets of footsteps and voices

"All I'm saying is, if he looks at me funny, I'm fighting him and that's that."

"Yeah maybe not the best impression on..." Peter cuts off when they reach the living room. Eyes again on the two of you.

"Let's get this over with." You muttered, saying bye to Peter and making way over to the couch to sit next to Pepper.

"Y/n!" Christine says happily, " I'm glad you're here. We brought you something!"

She pulls out a box and she carefully hands it over to you.

You look at it suspiciously before getting a nudge from Pepper.

"Thank you." You grit out. Earning a glare from Damian and Cassandra.

You open the box to see...cupcakes.

"They're the peanut butter strawberry cupcakes you used to like. Remember? I used to bring them when I came to see you." Christine says, trying to bring up good memories.

You frown and close the box, " I'm allergic to strawberries."

Lie.

Pepper casts a glance towards you, "They look lovely, let me take them into the kitchen, I'll check on dinner."

And with that she takes the box and leaves into the kitchen. Leaving you and Tony alone.

"So...Stark" Damian started fixing his gaze on you.

"Yes, Wayne?" You said, matching his energy.

"What exactly is it you want from my mother?" He asks, earning a groan from his older brothers.

"Well, I'd appreciate it if she left me alone." You say with a straight face.

Christine frowns but before she says something Damian speaks up again.

"Tt, all this drama for the likes of you? It's honestly disappointing" He drawls, trying to get under your skin.

"Damian!" Christine scolded.

"Well, I apologize for not meeting your standards. I'd try harder if I cared what a toddler thought of me."

Jason let out a surprised chuckle while the rest of the family looked on in shock. Tony just rolled his eyes.

"I do not understand why Mother insists on rekindling her relationship with you. You obviously weren't worth the effort the first time around." He spits, causing the rest of the family to gasp.

You however, just laugh, " When you figure it out, let me know. It's probably the same reason she puts up with you."

Damian glares, about to start in again when Jason cuts him off " Shut up Demon. She got you man."

"Tt"

"I'm Jason, and anyone who can out that brat in check is good in my book." He says sending you a smirk.

You smile back, " I'm friends with Loki and Wade Wilson, I'm hardly affected by anything anymore." Your dad rolls his eyes again, he’s not exactly enthusiastic about your choice in friends.

You like this one. Probably the one you're gonna be able to stand in this family.

"Don't hog her Jason!" Dick shouts pushing him away before turning to smile at you, " Hi! I'm-"

"Dick Grayson. I know, you spilled your champagne on my dress a few years ago at a New Years gala." You say, still a little bitter about it.

"Oh. heh, right, sorry about that. Again." He says sheepishly.

You turn to Cassandra, " You're Cassandra. You and your friend cornered me in the bathroom."

Cassandra scowls and looks away.

Then you turned to Tim, " And you need to learn how to secure your fire walls better."

Tim looked at you confused, "Um excuse me?"

You smirked, " Just a suggestion. I assume you don't want people to know about your...bats in the attic?"

The whole family froze.

You knew? There was no way.

"Kid, are you hacking again?" Tony said exasperatedly, " You promised you'd stop after the last time."

"Hey it's not my fault Shuri didn't think about changing her password." You say defensively, “ and it’s not like you were complaining when you had me hack into SHEILDS databases”

“What was that!?” Pepper shouts from the kitchen.

“Heheh, nothing dear.” Tony shouts back then in a hushed voice scolds you, “ I gave you fifty bucks to keep that a secret.”

“I didn’t say what you had me retrieve.” You said smugly leaning back in your chair.

Bruce didn’t know how to feel.

On one hand, this teen that objectively hates his family, knows their biggest secret. She can singlehandedly destroy their family and expose them. And she has the means to.

But on the other, she’s a perfect fit for their family. She gets along with Jason, doesn’t let Damian get under her skin, and from the looks of it can definitely take care of herself. Only thing is, again, she hates his wife and by association, his family.

“I’m sorry, hacking? You know that’s illegal right?” Tim asks, still in shock that you got past his security systems.

You turn to him and in a bored tone replied , “Yeah? and?”

Tim stuttered for a bit before going quiet with a blush. It was adorable really.

You had to hold back a laugh, it was fun getting this stuffy family all riled up. Especially when you can see the disapproval in Christines face.

“Tony, you let our daughter participate in illegal activities??” Christine asks with a raised brow.

The table goes silent at the tone of her voice. Knowing that when she uses it someone is really in trouble.

But you roll your eyes because how are you supposed to know what that tone means?

“I let my daughter express herself in a ...healthy way. She knows her limits.” Tony replies cooly, taking a drink and looking back into the kitchen wondering where Pepper went.

”Obviously not. Tony she has no regard for the laws at all! You think i didn’t see the headlines last year?!”

Ah yes, last year you had a slight scandal where you may have punched a pap for trying to get a picture up your skirt but who wouldn’t?!

“ And you let her hang around criminals and terrorists?!”

You scoff, “ Oh please everyone in the Avengers was a criminal or terrorist at least once.”

“Not helping kid.” Tony says, “Christine, you and your family have no right to come into my home and judge my family. I’ve been civil. Hell maybe a little too much. Mainly because if I wasn’t, my wife—err Fiancée, would kill me.”

You snicker, earning a few glares.

“Look the point is, don’t tell me how to raise my daughter. Especially because I was doing it all alone.” Tony finishes with a sigh.

The table goes silent. You were getting tired of all the tense silences today.

“ Look.” You turn to Christine, “ I get that you probably feel guilty or something because you ditched me. And I appreciate that or whatever.”

You were not good at this.

“ But I don’t wanna live with you.”

Christine looks down sadly, “ Y/n I just...I just want to get to know you again. You’re my baby.”

Before you could answer you heard a crash come from the kitchen and smoke fill the rooms.

“ Pepper?!” You cough, “ Dad what’s happening?!”

“ I don’t know. Stay here” He says summoning his suit.

“FRIDAY?!” You shout, but not hearing the AI.

The Wayne’s all looked at each other in panic. They didn’t bring their suits, thinking it was just a dinner.

You turn to them and shout “ Come with me, and stay low!”

You start to lead them to the stair case, knowing that the rooms were relatively safe.

“Come on!” you yell when they don’t follow you.

Christine stands from her seat and makes to follow you before being stopped by Damian.

“Mother we cannot..”

“Damian, I’ve had about enough of you. Let’s go.” She says sternly and follows you. The rest of the family following behind as Bruce nudges Damian.

“ Come on son.”

“Father we don’t know where she’s leading us.” Damian says stubbornly.

“There’s nothing we can do right now.” he coughs.

The sounds of punching and the blasts come from the kitchen.

“Let’s go.”

They finally join the rest of the family. You have them crouched in the hallway.

“ This is James’ room. Dad had it modified just incase he was ever triggered into the Winter Solider again. No ones getting through this door when it’s locked.”

You usher them in.

“Come on Y/n” Christine says reaching a hand out to you.

You smirk, “ What? and miss all the action?”

You close the door and lock it before leaving. Laughing at their surprised faces.

The room is silent.

“ She’s awesome!” Jason says with a laugh.

#tony stark x daughter!reader #crossover #marvel x reader #avengers x teen!reader #poc reader #reader insert #marvel #tony is a good dad #tony stark x teen!reader #batfam x reader

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iamdeku · 2 years

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Probability: Teacher!Deku x Reader

“Teacher deku falling for another teacher! Thank you I love you'r writing it's so cute” I love this request! I work as a teacher so this was a lot of fun for me to do, haha. I’m sorry it’s so late! I hope there’s enough romance in this one for you. I’m a little rusty, so go easy on me. Warnings: I did not proofread. It’s midnight and I have work tomorrow so I have nothing to say in my own defense. Might delete this later honestly but hey at least it exists. Also the formatting on this one is slightly stupid because Tumblr sucks.

You loved your job a lot. You had always liked kids, but you also knew from a pretty young age that you wanted to be a hero. Being able to do both was your dream, something you had never even known to hope for until Principal Nezo had shown up at the tail end of one of your missions, a knowing smile on his face parallel to the confused wrinkle of your sweat smudged brow.

“I’d like to offer you a job.”

7 words that had changed your life. You guessed 7 was a lucky number after all. Then again, maybe luck had nothing to do with it. Most things came down to probability.

“So, class, who can tell me which is better? Relying more on your powers or relying more on your individual skills?”

Several hands shot up. You had anticipated this. From the beginning of the year, you had noticed your students took very different approaches to their powers and there was a hot debate about whose approach would lead to them being “the best”, Japan’s #1 hero.

“Kori, what do you think?” You point out the young girl, her hair as white as the ice her powers produced.

“Relying on your powers will give you the edge you need to defeat the enemy. They’re what give us that individual edge. Without our quirks we wouldn’t be heroes at all.”

You couldn’t help the small smirk that crossed your face.

“Well, there’s one more person I’d like to ask. Deku?” You looked up at the man standing in your doorway. “What do you think?”

For being the number one hero in the country, Midoriya could be terribly shy when put in the spotlight. He blushed from the bottom of his neck to the roots of his deep green hair. He had probably hoped to go unseen until the end of the class when you two traded places and he gave instruction while you observed.

You were still on probation and one of the conditions of being a new hire at U.A. with no prior teaching experience was that one of the senior faculty had to sponsor you. Midoriya had been kind enough to volunteer, so you observed his classes when you weren’t teaching your own. Right now though, an outsider could have mistaken your roles for being reversed with the way Midoriya looked like he was training to manifest an invisibility quirk.

“Well, uh…” He recovered quickly, flashing a huge smile. “The thing is, neither is more important. If you forget about one or the other, you’re bound to fail sooner or later. Some villains will have quirks that give them an advantage over ours, which is when it’s important to have a strong sense of your individual skills and power outside of your quirk, things like using your environment to your favor and being skilled at physical combat. However, our quirks can give us a powerful advantage when used correctly, and it’s very difficult to fight villains with powerful quirks using raw human skill alone.”

“Very good, Deku. I couldn’t have said it better myself.” You glanced up at the clock, seeing you were nearly out of time. “Alright class. Your homework this week is to write me a paper about the advantages of quirk-based fighting styles versus quirkless fighting styles and report back to me. Also, keep an eye out for trick questions. I might give you a pass, but Aizawa will not. Now get out of here!”

Your students quickly started packing their things, getting ready to head back to the dorms or to their next class. You were almost done for the day. Midoriya had one more class to teach and then you were off the hook. You were thinking about going out tonight, a reward for the long week you had been through. Fridays always sucked a little bit. The student’s attention span was never as good as you wanted it to be.

You cleared your desk off quickly, making space for Midoriya to take over. You shuffled your pens into the cup at the edge of the desk, snatching the slim black water bottle off the corner before heading for the back of the classroom. Sometimes you sat closer to the front so you could see what Midoriya was doing better but you knew today was one of his lecture days, meaning all you had to do was listen. You loved lecture days because it meant you could get a little lazy. Technically no one could prove you weren’t listening and if you hadn’t had enough coffee, well…there were no guarantees.

Midoriya stopped you on your way back though, a warm, broad hand coming to rest lightly on your shoulder. You had always liked the way he touched you, unobtrusive, gentle and kind.

“So…” he started. “Today’s the big day.”

You nodded, excitement filling you at the reminder.

“How do you feel about your probation period finally being over?” he asked.

“Honestly?” you asked. “I’m torn. It’s going to be awesome being able to run my classes independently, but I think I’ll miss getting to observe your classes and have your guidance.”

Midoriya averted his gaze, teeth grazing his lower lip. “Well, about that…”

“What?” you asked, alarmed. “Is something wrong? Was I supposed to continue my observations? I didn’t get enough hours, did I? I knew it.”

“No! No, that’s not it at all,” he reassured you. “I was just thinking it might be nice if we didn’t have to stop spending time with each other.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I was thinking now that I’m no longer going to be your mentor it wouldn’t be completely inappropriate of me to uh…ask you out?” He stammered through the words, ever awkward.

You were taken aback by the proposal. You had always harbored a secret crush on the hunky pro-hero, but he was so quiet you never would have though that he had returned the feelings. Despite you drooling over him every class he had never made any advances. You had sort of given up on him halfway through the year, assuming he would never see you that way.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, long-held crush reigniting.

“Um, I would, I would like that, if, I mean, if you would like that, of course, because obviously I care about what you like and if you would like that, also,” you stammered.

Damn. You sounded even more awkward than he did.

You were rewarded with a smile anyway, Midoriya’s whole face lighting up at your response.

“I would like that very much! Should we go this weekend? I know a good place we could to Saturday. You know, if would like that also,” he teased.

“I would in fact like that also,” you said, regaining your confidence.

“Good. I’ll pick you up?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“What are the odds I would get to mentor someone as wonderful as you?” he asked, smiling softly down at you.

“The probability seems pretty good, actually.”

#teacher!deku #prohero!deku #agedup!midoriya #deku x reader #izuku midoriya #mha #bnha

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path-of-my-childhood · 4 years

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Musicians On Musicians: Paul McCartney & Taylor Swift

By: Patrick Doyle for Rolling Stone Date: November 13th 2020

On songwriting secrets, making albums at home, and what they’ve learned during the pandemic.

Taylor Swift arrived early to Paul McCartney’s London office in October, “mask on, brimming with excitement.” “I mostly work from home these days,” she writes about that day, “and today feels like a rare school field trip that you actually want to go on.”

Swift showed up without a team, doing her own hair and makeup. In addition to being two of the most famous pop songwriters in the world, Swift and McCartney have spent the past year on similar journeys. McCartney, isolated at home in the U.K., recorded McCartney III. Like his first solo album, in 1970, he played nearly all of the instruments himself, resulting in some of his most wildly ambitious songs in a long time. Swift also took some new chances, writing over email with the National’s Aaron Dessner and recording the raw Folklore, which abandons arena pop entirely in favor of rich character songs. It’s the bestselling album of 2020.

Swift listened to McCartney III as she prepared for today’s conversation; McCartney delved into Folkore. Before the photo shoot, Swift caught up with his daughters Mary (who would be photographing them) and Stella (who designed Swift’s clothes; the two are close friends). “I’ve met Paul a few times, mostly onstage at parties, but we’ll get to that later,” Swift writes. “Soon he walks in with his wife, Nancy. They’re a sunny and playful pair, and I immediately feel like this will be a good day. During the shoot, Paul dances and takes almost none of it too seriously and sings along to Motown songs playing from the speakers. A few times Mary scolds, ‘Daaad, try to stand still!’ And it feels like a window into a pretty awesome family dynamic. We walk into his office for a chat, and after I make a nervous request, Paul is kind enough to handwrite my favorite lyric of his and sign it. He makes a joke about me selling it, and I laugh because it’s something I know I’ll cherish for the rest of my life. That’s around the time when we start talking about music.”

Taylor Swift: I think it’s important to note that if this year had gone the way that we thought it was going to go, you and I would have played Glastonbury this year, and instead, you and I both made albums in isolation.

Paul McCartney: Yeah!

Swift: And I remember thinking it would have been so much fun because the times that I’ve run into you, I correlate with being some of the most fun nights of my life. I was at a party with you, when everybody just started playing music. And it was Dave Grohl playing, and you...

McCartney: You were playing one of his songs, weren’t you?

Swift: Yes, I was playing his song called “Best of You,” but I was playing it on piano, and he didn’t recognize it until about halfway through. I just remember thinking, “Are you the catalyst for the most fun times ever?” Is it your willingness to get up and play music that makes everyone feel like this is a thing that can happen tonight?

McCartney: I mean, I think it’s a bit of everything, isn’t it? I’ll tell you who was very... Reese Witherspoon was like, “Are you going to sing?” I said “Oh, I don’t know.” She said, “You’ve got to, yeah!” She’s bossing me around. So I said, “Whoa,” so it’s a bit of that.

Swift: I love that person, because the party does not turn musical without that person.

McCartney: Yeah, that’s true.

Swift: If nobody says, “Can you guys play music?” we’re not going to invite ourselves up onstage at whatever living-room party it is.

McCartney: I seem to remember Woody Harrelson got on the piano, and he starts playing “Let It Be,” and I’m thinking, “I can do that better.” So I said, “Come on, move over, Woody.” So we’re both playing it. It was really nice... I love people like Dan Aykroyd, who’s just full of energy and he loves his music so much, but he’s not necessarily a musician, but he just wanders around the room, just saying, “You got to get up, got to get up, do some stuff.”

Swift: I listened to your new record. And I loved a lot of things about it, but it really did feel like kind of a flex to write, produce, and play every instrument on every track. To me, that’s like flexing a muscle and saying, “I can do all this on my own if I have to.”

McCartney: Well, I don’t think like that, I must admit. I just picked up some of these instruments over the years. We had a piano at home that my dad played, so I picked around on that. I wrote the melody to “When I’m 64” when I was, you know, a teenager.

Swift: Wow.

McCartney: When the Beatles went to Hamburg, there were always drum kits knocking around, so when there was a quiet moment, I’d say, “Do you mind if I have a knock around?” So I was able to practice, you know, without practicing. That’s why I play right-handed. Guitar was just the first instrument I got. Guitar turned to bass; it also turned into ukulele, mandolin. Suddenly, it’s like, “Wow,” but it’s really only two or three instruments.

Swift: Well, I think that’s downplaying it a little bit. In my mind, it came with a visual of you being in the country, kind of absorbing the sort of do-it-yourself [quality] that has had to come with the quarantine and this pandemic. I found that I’ve adapted a do-it-yourself mentality to a lot of things in my career that I used to outsource. I’m just wondering what a day of recording in the pandemic looked like for you.

McCartney: Well, I’m very lucky because I have a studio that’s, like, 20 minutes away from where I live. We were in lockdown on a farm, a sheep farm with my daughter Mary and her four kids and her husband. So I had four of my grandkids, I had Mary, who’s a great cook, so I would just drive myself to the studio. And there were two other guys that could come in and we’d be very careful and distanced and everything: my engineer Steve, and then my equipment guy Keith. So the three of us made the record, and I just started off. I had to do a little bit of film music - I had to do an instrumental for a film thing - so I did that. And I just kept going, and that turned into the opening track on the album. I would just come in, say, “Oh, yeah, what are we gonna do?” [Then] have some sort of idea, and start doing it. Normally, I’d start with the instrument I wrote it on, either piano or guitar, and then probably add some drums and then a bit of bass till it started to sound like a record, and then just gradually layer it all up. It was fun.

Swift: That’s so cool.

McCartney: What about yours? You’re playing guitar and piano on yours.

Swift: Yeah, on some of it, but a lot of it was made with Aaron Dessner, who’s in a band called the National that I really love. And I had met him at a concert a year before, and I had a conversation with him, asking him how he writes. It’s my favorite thing to ask people who I’m a fan of. And he had an interesting answer. He said, “All the band members live in different parts of the world. So I make tracks. And I send them to our lead singer, Matt, and he writes the top line.” I just remember thinking, “That is really efficient.” And I kind of stored it in my brain as a future idea for a project. You know, how you have these ideas... “Maybe one day I’ll do this.” I always had in my head: “Maybe one day I’ll work with Aaron Dessner.”

So when lockdown happened, I was in L.A., and we kind of got stuck there. It’s not a terrible place to be stuck. We were there for four months maybe, and during that time, I sent an email to Aaron Dessner and I said, “Do you think you would want to work during this time? Because my brain is all scrambled, and I need to make something, even if we’re just kind of making songs that we don’t know what will happen...”

McCartney: Yeah, that was the thing. You could do stuff - you didn’t really worry it was going to turn into anything.

Swift: Yeah, and it turned out he had been writing instrumental tracks to keep from absolutely going crazy during the pandemic as well, so he sends me this file of probably 30 instrumentals, and the first one I opened ended up being a song called “Cardigan,” and it really happened rapid-fire like that. He’d send me a track; he’d make new tracks, add to the folder; I would write the entire top line for a song, and he wouldn’t know what the song would be about, what it was going to be called, where I was going to put the chorus. I had originally thought, “Maybe I’ll make an album in the next year, and put it out in January or something,” but it ended up being done and we put it out in July. And I just thought there are no rules anymore, because I used to put all these parameters on myself, like, “How will this song sound in a stadium? How will this song sound on radio?” If you take away all the parameters, what do you make? And I guess the answer is Folklore.

McCartney: And it’s more music for yourself than music that’s got to go do a job. My thing was similar to that: After having done this little bit of film music, I had a lot of stuff that I had been working on, but I’d said, “I’m just going home now,” and it’d be left half-finished. So I just started saying, “Well, what about that? I never finished that.” So we’d pull it out, and we said, “Oh, well, this could be good.” And because it didn’t have to amount to anything, I would say, “Ah, I really want to do tape loops. I don’t care if they fit on this song, I just want to do some.” So I go and make some tape loops, and put them in the song, just really trying to do stuff that I fancy.

I had no idea it would end up as an album; I may have been a bit less indulgent, but if a track was eight minutes long, to tell you the truth, what I thought was, “I’ll be taking it home tonight, Mary will be cooking, the grandkids will all be there running around, and someone, maybe Simon, Mary’s husband, is going to say, ‘What did you do today?’ And I’m going to go, ‘Oh,’ and then get my phone and play it for them.” So this became the ritual.

Swift: That’s the coziest thing I’ve ever heard.

McCartney: Well, it’s like eight minutes long, and I said, “I hate it when I’m playing someone something and it finishes after three minutes.” I kind of like that it just [continues] on.

Swift: You want to stay in the zone.

McCartney: It just keeps going on. I would just come home, “Well, what did you do today?” “Oh, well, I did this. I’m halfway through this,” or, “We finished this.”

Swift: I was wondering about the numerology element to McCartney III. McCartney I, II, and III have all come out on years with zeroes.

McCartney: Ends of decades.

Swift: Was that important?

McCartney: Yeah, well, this was being done in 2020, and I didn’t really think about it. I think everyone expected great things of 2020. “It’s gonna be great! Look at that number! 2020! Auspicious!” Then suddenly Covid hit, and it was like, “That’s gonna be auspicious all right, but maybe for the wrong reasons.” Someone said to me, “Well, you put out McCartney right after the Beatles broke up, and that was 1970, and then you did McCartney II in 1980.” And I said, “Oh, I’m going to release this in 2020 just for whatever you call it, the numerology...”

Swift: The numerology, the kind of look, the symbolism. I love numbers. Numbers kind of rule my whole world. The numbers 13... 89 is a big one. I have a few others that I find...

McCartney: Thirteen is lucky for some.

Swift: Yeah, it’s lucky for me. It’s my birthday. It’s all these weird coincidences of good things that have happened. Now, when I see it places, I look at it as a sign that things are going the way they’re supposed to. They may not be good now, they could be painful now, but things are on a track. I don’t know, I love the numerology.

McCartney: It’s spooky, Taylor. It’s very spooky. Now wait a minute: Where’d you get 89?

Swift: That’s when I was born, in 1989, and so I see it in different places and I just think it’s...

McCartney: No, it’s good. I like that, where certain things you attach yourself to, and you get a good feeling off them. I think that’s great.

Swift: Yeah, one of my favorite artists, Bon Iver, he has this thing with the number 22. But I was also wondering: You have always kind of seeked out a band or a communal atmosphere with like, you know, the Beatles and Wings, and then Egypt Station. I thought it was interesting when I realized you had made a record with no one else. I just wondered, did that feel natural?

McCartney: It’s one of the things I’ve done. Like with McCartney, because the Beatles had broken up, there was no alternative but to get a drum kit at home, get a guitar, get an amp, get a bass, and just make something for myself. So on that album, which I didn’t really expect to do very well, I don’t think it did. But people sort of say, “I like that. It was a very casual album.” It didn’t really have to mean anything. So I’ve done that, the play-everything-myself thing. And then I discovered synths and stuff, and sequencers, so I had a few of those at home. I just thought I’m going to play around with this and record it, so that became McCartney II. But it’s a thing I do. Certain people can do it. Stevie Wonder can do it. Stevie Winwood, I believe, has done it. So there are certain people quite like that.

When you’re working with someone else, you have to worry about their variances. Whereas your own variance, you kind of know it. It’s just something I’ve grown to like. Once you can do it, it becomes a little bit addictive. I actually made some records under the name the Fireman.

Swift: Love a pseudonym.

McCartney: Yeah, for the fun! But, you know, let’s face it, you crave fame and attention when you’re young. And I just remembered the other day, I was the guy in the Beatles that would write to journalists and say [speaks in a formal voice]: “We are a semiprofessional rock combo, and I’d think you’d like [us]... We’ve written over 100 songs (which was a lie), my friend John and I. If you mention us in your newspaper...” You know, I was always, like, craving the attention.

Swift: The hustle! That’s so great, though.

McCartney: Well, yeah, you need that.

Swift: Yeah, I think, when a pseudonym comes in is when you still have a love for making the work and you don’t want the work to become overshadowed by this thing that’s been built around you, based on what people know about you. And that’s when it’s really fun to create fake names and write under them.

McCartney: Do you ever do that?

Swift: Oh, yeah.

McCartney: Oh, yeah? Oh, well, we didn’t know that! Is that a widely known fact?

Swift: I think it is now, but it wasn’t. I wrote under the name Nils Sjöberg because those are two of the most popular names of Swedish males. I wrote this song called “This Is What You Came For” that Rihanna ended up singing. And nobody knew for a while. I remembered always hearing that when Prince wrote “Manic Monday,” they didn’t reveal it for a couple of months.

McCartney: Yeah, it also proves you can do something without the fame tag. I did something for Peter and Gordon; my girlfriend’s brother and his mate were in a band called Peter and Gordon. And I used to write under the name Bernard Webb.

Swift: [Laughs.] That’s a good one! I love it.

McCartney: As Americans call it, Ber-nard Webb. I did the Fireman thing. I worked with a producer, a guy called Youth, who’s this real cool dude. We got along great. He did a mix for me early on, and we got friendly. I would just go into the studio, and he would say, “Hey, what about this groove?” and he’d just made me have a little groove going. He’d say, “You ought to put some bass on it. Put some drums on it.” I’d just spend the whole day putting stuff on it. And we’d make these tracks, and nobody knew who Fireman was for a while. We must have sold all of 15 copies.

Swift: Thrilling, absolutely thrilling.

McCartney: And we didn’t mind, you know?

Swift: I think it’s so cool that you do projects that are just for you. Because I went with my family to see you in concert in 2010 or 2011, and the thing I took away from the show most was that it was the most selfless set list I had ever seen. It was completely geared toward what it would thrill us to hear. It had new stuff, but it had every hit we wanted to hear, every song we’d ever cried to, every song people had gotten married to, or been brokenhearted to. And I just remembered thinking, “I’ve got to remember that,” that you do that set list for your fans.

McCartney: You do that, do you?

Swift: I do now. I think that learning that lesson from you taught me at a really important stage in my career that if people want to hear “Love Story” and “Shake It Off,” and I’ve played them 300 million times, play them the 300-millionth-and-first time. I think there are times to be selfish in your career, and times to be selfless, and sometimes they line up.

McCartney: I always remembered going to concerts as a kid, completely before the Beatles, and I really hoped they would play the ones I loved. And if they didn’t, it was kind of disappointing. I had no money, and the family wasn’t wealthy. So this would be a big deal for me, to save up for months to afford the concert ticket.

Swift: Yeah, it feels like a bond. It feels like that person on the stage has given something, and it makes you as a crowd want to give even more back, in terms of applause, in terms of dedication. And I just remembered feeling that bond in the crowd, and thinking, “He’s up there playing these Beatles songs, my dad is crying, my mom is trying to figure out how to work her phone because her hands are shaking so much.” Because seeing the excitement course through not only me, but my family and the entire crowd in Nashville, it just was really special. I love learning lessons and not having to learn them the hard way. Like learning nice lessons I really value.

McCartney: Well, that’s great, and I’m glad that set you on that path. I understand people who don’t want to do that, and if you do, they’ll say, “Oh, it’s a jukebox show.” I hear what they’re saying. But I think it’s a bit of a cheat, because the people who come to our shows have spent a lot of money. We can afford to go to a couple of shows and it doesn’t make much difference. But a lot of ordinary working folks... it’s a big event in their life, and so I try and deliver. I also, like you say, try and put in a few weirdos.

Swift: That’s the best. I want to hear current things, too, to update me on where the artist is. I was wondering about lyrics, and where you were lyrically when you were making this record. Because when I was making Folklore, I went lyrically in a total direction of escapism and romanticism. And I wrote songs imagining I was, like, a pioneer woman in a forbidden love affair [laughs]. I was completely...

McCartney: Was this “I want to give you a child”? Is that one of the lines?

Swift: Oh, that’s a song called “Peace.”

McCartney: “Peace,” I like that one.

Swift: “Peace” is actually more rooted in my personal life. I know you have done a really excellent job of this in your personal life: carving out a human life within a public life, and how scary that can be when you do fall in love and you meet someone, especially if you’ve met someone who has a very grounded, normal way of living. I, oftentimes, in my anxieties, can control how I am as a person and how normal I act and rationalize things, but I cannot control if there are 20 photographers outside in the bushes and what they do and if they follow our car and if they interrupt our lives. I can’t control if there’s going to be a fake weird headline about us in the news tomorrow.

McCartney: So how does that go? Does your partner sympathize with that and understand?

Swift: Oh, absolutely.

McCartney: They have to, don’t they?

Swift: But I think that in knowing him and being in the relationship I am in now, I have definitely made decisions that have made my life feel more like a real life and less like just a storyline to be commented on in tabloids. Whether that’s deciding where to live, who to hang out with, when to not take a picture - the idea of privacy feels so strange to try to explain, but it’s really just trying to find bits of normalcy. That’s what that song “Peace” is talking about. Like, would it be enough if I could never fully achieve the normalcy that we both crave? Stella always tells me that she had as normal a childhood as she could ever hope for under the circumstances.

McCartney: Yeah, it was very important to us to try and keep their feet on the ground amongst the craziness.

Swift: She went to a regular school...

McCartney: Yeah, she did.

Swift: And you would go trick-or-treating with them, wearing masks.

McCartney: All of them did, yeah. It was important, but it worked pretty well, because when they kind of reached adulthood, they would meet other kids who might have gone to private schools, who were a little less grounded.

And they could be the budding mothers to [kids]. I remember Mary had a friend, Orlando. Not Bloom. She used to really counsel him. And it’s ’cause she’d gone through that. Obviously, they got made fun of, my kids. They’d come in the classroom and somebody would sing, “Na na na na,” you know, one of the songs. And they’d have to handle that. They’d have to front it out.

Swift: Did that give you a lot of anxiety when you had kids, when you felt like all this pressure that’s been put on me is spilling over onto them, that they didn’t sign up for it? Was that hard for you?

McCartney: Yeah, a little bit, but it wasn’t like it is now. You know, we were just living a kind of semi-hippie life, where we withdrew from a lot of stuff. The kids would be doing all the ordinary things, and their school friends would be coming up to the house and having parties, and it was just great. I remember one lovely evening when it was Stella’s birthday, and she brought a bunch of school kids up. And, you know, they’d all ignore me. It happens very quickly. At first they’re like, “Oh, yeah, he’s like a famous guy,” and then it’s like [yawns]. I like that. I go in the other room and suddenly I hear this music going on. And one of the kids, his name was Luke, and he’s doing break dancing.

Swift: Ohhh!

McCartney: He was a really good break dancer, so all the kids are hanging out. That allowed them to be kind of normal with those kids. The other thing is, I don’t live fancy. I really don’t. Sometimes it’s a little bit of an embarrassment, if I’ve got someone coming to visit me, or who I know…

Swift: Cares about that stuff?

McCartney: Who’s got a nice big house, you know. Quincy Jones came to see me and I’m, like, making him a veggie burger or something. I’m doing some cooking. This was after I’d lost Linda, in between there. But the point I’m making is that I’m very consciously thinking, “Oh, God, Quincy’s got to be thinking, ‘What is this guy on? He hasn’t got big things going on. It’s not a fancy house at all. And we’re eating in the kitchen! He’s not even got the dining room going,’” you know?

Swift: I think that sounds like a perfect day.

McCartney: But that’s me. I’m awkward like that. That’s my kind of thing. Maybe I should have, like, a big stately home. Maybe I should get a staff. But I think I couldn’t do that. I’d be so embarrassed. I’d want to walk around dressed as I want to walk around, or naked, if I wanted to.

Swift: That can’t happen in Downton Abbey.

McCartney: [Laughs.] Exactly.

Swift: I remember what I wanted to know about, which is lyrics. Like, when you’re in this kind of strange, unparalleled time, and you’re making this record, are lyrics first? Or is it when you get a little melodic idea?

McCartney: It was a bit of both. As it kind of always is with me. There’s no fixed way. People used to ask me and John, “Well, who does the words, who does the music?” I used to say, “We both do both.” We used to say we don’t have a formula, and we don’t want one. Because the minute we get a formula, we should rip it up. I will sometimes, as I did with a couple of songs on this album, sit down at the piano and just start noodling around, and I’ll get a little idea and start to fill that out. So the lyrics - for me, it’s following a trail. I’ll start [sings “Find My Way,” a song from “McCartney III”]: “I can find my way. I know my left from right, da da da.” And I’ll just sort of fill it in. Like, we know this song, and I’m trying to remember the lyrics. Sometimes I’ll just be inspired by something. I had a little book which was all about the constellations and the stars and the orbits of Venus and...

Swift: Oh, I know that song - “The Kiss of Venus”?

McCartney: Yeah, “The Kiss of Venus.” And I just thought, “That’s a nice phrase.” So I was actually just taking phrases out of the book, harmonic sounds. And the book is talking about the maths of the universe, and how when things orbit around each other, and if you trace all the patterns, it becomes like a lotus flower.

Swift: Wow.

McCartney: It’s very magical.

Swift: That is magical. I definitely relate to needing to find magical things in this very not-magical time, needing to read more books and learn to sew, and watch movies that take place hundreds of years ago. In a time where, if you look at the news, you just want to have a panic attack - I really relate to the idea that you are thinking about stars and constellations.

McCartney: Did you do that on Folklore?

Swift: Yes. I was reading so much more than I ever did, and watching so many more films.

McCartney: What stuff were you reading?

Swift: I was reading, you know, books like Rebecca, by Daphne du Maurier, which I highly recommend, and books that dealt with times past, a world that doesn’t exist anymore. I was also using words I always wanted to use - kind of bigger, flowerier, prettier words, like “epiphany,” in songs. I always thought, “Well, that’ll never track on pop radio,” but when I was making this record, I thought, “What tracks? Nothing makes sense anymore. If there’s chaos everywhere, why don’t I just use the damn word I want to use in the song?”

McCartney: Exactly. So you’d see the word in a book and think, “I love that word”?

Swift: Yeah, I have favorite words, like “elegies” and “epiphany” and “divorcée,” and just words that I think sound beautiful, and I have lists and lists of them.

McCartney: How about “marzipan”?

Swift: Love “marzipan.”

McCartney: The other day, I was remembering when we wrote “Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds”: “kaleidoscope.”

Swift: “Kaleidoscope” is one of mine! I have a song on 1989, a song called “Welcome to New York,” that I put the word “kaleidoscope” in just because I’m obsessed with the word.

McCartney: I think a love of words is a great thing, particularly if you’re going to try to write a lyric, and for me, it’s like, “What is this going to say to that person?” I often feel like I’m writing to someone who is not doing so well. So I’m trying to write songs that might help. Not in a goody-goody, crusading kind of way, but just thinking there have been so many times in my life when I’ve heard a song and felt so much better. I think that’s the angle I want, that inspirational thing.

I remember once, a friend of mine from Liverpool, we were teenagers and we were going to a fairground. He was a schoolmate, and we had these jackets that had a little fleck in the material, which was the cool thing at the time.

Swift: We should have done matching jackets for this photo shoot.

McCartney: Find me a fleck, I’m in. But we went to the fair, and I just remember - this is what happens with songs - there was this girl at the fair. This is just a little Liverpool fair - it was in a place called Sefton Park - and there was this girl, who was so beautiful. She wasn’t a star. She was so beautiful. Everyone was following her, and it’s like, “Wow.” It’s like a magical scene, you know? But all this gave me a headache, so I ended up going back to his house - I didn’t normally get headaches. And we thought, “What can we do?” So we put on the Elvis song “All Shook Up.” By the end of that song, my headache had gone. I thought, you know, “That’s powerful.”

Swift: That really is powerful.

McCartney: I love that, when people stop me in the street and say, “Oh, I was going through an illness and I listened to a lot of your stuff, and I’m better now and it got me through,” or kids will say, “It got me through exams.” You know, they’re studying, they’re going crazy, but they put your music on. I’m sure it happens with a lot of your fans. It inspires them, you know?

Swift: Yeah, I definitely think about that as a goal. There’s so much stress everywhere you turn that I kind of wanted to make an album that felt sort of like a hug, or like your favorite sweater that makes you feel like you want to put it on.

McCartney: What, a “cardigan”?

Swift: Like a good cardigan, a good, worn-in cardigan. Or something that makes you reminisce on your childhood. I think sadness can be cozy. It can obviously be traumatic and stressful, too, but I kind of was trying to lean into sadness that feels like somehow enveloping in not such a scary way - like nostalgia and whimsy incorporated into a feeling like you’re not all right. Because I don’t think anybody was really feeling like they were in their prime this year. Isolation can mean escaping into your imagination in a way that’s kind of nice.

McCartney: I think a lot of people have found that. I would say to people, “I feel a bit guilty about saying I’m actually enjoying this quarantine thing,” and people go, “Yeah, I know, don’t say it to anyone.” A lot of people are really suffering.

Swift: Because there’s a lot in life that’s arbitrary. Completely and totally arbitrary. And [the quarantine] is really shining a light on that, and also a lot of things we have that we outsource that you can actually do yourself.

McCartney: I love that. This is why I said I live simply. That’s, like, at the core of it. With so many things, something goes wrong and you go, “Oh, I’ll get somebody to fix that.” And then it’s like, “No, let me have a look at it...”

Swift: Get a hammer and a nail.

McCartney: “Maybe I can put that picture up.” It’s not rocket science. The period after the Beatles, when we went to live in Scotland on a really - talk about dumpy - little farm. I mean, I see pictures of it now and I’m not ashamed, but I’m almost ashamed. Because it’s like, “God, nobody’s cleaned up around here.”

But it was really a relief. Because when I was with the Beatles, we’d formed Apple Records, and if I wanted a Christmas tree, someone would just buy it. And I thought, after a while, “No, you know what? I really would like to go and buy our Christmas tree. Because that’s what everyone does.” So you go down - “I’ll have that one” - and you carried it back. I mean, it’s little, but it’s huge at the same time.

I needed a table in Scotland and I was looking through a catalog and I thought, “I could make one. I did woodwork in school, so I know what a dovetail joint is.” So I just figured it out. I’m just sitting in the kitchen, and I’m whittling away at this wood and I made this little joint. There was no nail technology - it was glue. And I was scared to put it together. I said, “It’s not going to fit,” but one day, I got my woodwork glue and thought, “There’s no going back.” But it turned out to be a real nice little table I was very proud of. It was that sense of achievement.

The weird thing was, Stella went up to Scotland recently and I said, “Isn’t it there?” and she said, “No.” Anyway, I searched for it. Nobody remembered it. Somebody said, “Well, there’s a pile of wood in the corner of one of the barns, maybe that’s it. Maybe they used it for firewood.” I said, “No, it’s not firewood.” Anyway, we found it, and do you know how joyous that was for me? I was like, “You found my table?!” Somebody might say that’s a bit boring.

Swift: No, it’s cool!

McCartney: But it was a real sort of great thing for me to be able to do stuff for yourself. You were talking about sewing. I mean normally, in your position, you’ve got any amount of tailors.

Swift: Well, there’s been a bit of a baby boom recently; several of my friends have gotten pregnant.

McCartney: Oh, yeah, you’re at the age.

Swift: And I was just thinking, “I really want to spend time with my hands, making something for their children.” So I made this really cool flying-squirrel stuffed animal that I sent to one of my friends. I sent a teddy bear to another one, and I started making these little silk baby blankets with embroidery. It’s gotten pretty fancy. And I’ve been painting a lot.

McCartney: What do you paint? Watercolors?

Swift: Acrylic or oil. Whenever I do watercolor, all I paint is flowers. When I have oil, I really like to do landscapes. I always kind of return to painting a lonely little cottage on a hill.

McCartney: It’s a bit of a romantic dream. I agree with you, though, I think you’ve got to have dreams, particularly this year. You’ve got to have something to escape to. When you say “escapism,” it sounds like a dirty word, but this year, it definitely wasn’t. And in the books you’re reading, you’ve gone into that world. That’s, I think, a great thing. Then you come back out. I normally will read a lot before I go to bed. So I’ll come back out, then I’ll go to sleep, so I think it really is nice to have those dreams that can be fantasies or stuff you want to achieve.

Swift: You’re creating characters. This was the first album where I ever created characters, or wrote about the life of a real-life person. There’s a song called “The Last Great American Dynasty” that’s about this real-life heiress who lived just an absolutely chaotic, hectic...

McCartney: She’s a fantasy character?

Swift: She’s a real person. Who lived in the house that I live in.

McCartney: She’s a real person? I listened to that and I thought, “Who is this?”

Swift: Her name was Rebekah Harkness. And she lived in the house that I ended up buying in Rhode Island. That’s how I learned about her. But she was a woman who was very, very talked about, and everything she did was scandalous. I found a connection in that. But I also was thinking about how you write “Eleanor Rigby” and go into that whole story about what all these people in this town are doing and how their lives intersect, and I hadn’t really done that in a very long time with my music. It had always been so microscope personal.

McCartney: Yeah, ’cause you were writing breakup songs like they were going out of style.

Swift: I was, before my luck changed [laughs]. I still write breakup songs. I love a good breakup song. Because somewhere in the world, I always have a friend going through a breakup, and that will make me write one.

McCartney: Yeah, this goes back to this thing of me and John: When you’ve got a formula, break it. I don’t have a formula. It’s the mood I’m in. So I love the idea of writing a character. And, you know, trying to think, “What am I basing this on?” So “Eleanor Rigby” was based on old ladies I knew as a kid. For some reason or other, I got great relationships with a couple of local old ladies. I was thinking the other day, I don’t know how I met them, it wasn’t like they were family. I’d just run into them, and I’d do their shopping for them.

Swift: That’s amazing.

McCartney: It just felt good to me. I would sit and talk, and they’d have amazing stories. That’s what I liked. They would have stories from the wartime - because I was born actually in the war - and so these old ladies, they were participating in the war. This one lady I used to sort of just hang out with, she had a crystal radio that I found very magical. In the war, a lot of people made their own radios - you’d make them out of crystals [sings “The Twilight Zone” theme].

Swift: How did I not know this? That sounds like something I would have tried to learn about.

McCartney: It’s interesting, because there is a lot of parallels with the virus and lockdowns and wartime. It happened to everyone. Like, this isn’t HIV, or SARS, or Avian flu, which happened to others, generally. This has happened to everyone, all around the world. That’s the defining thing about this particular virus. And, you know, my parents... it happened to everyone in Britain, including the queen and Churchill. War happened. So they were all part of this thing, and they all had to figure out a way through it. So you figured out Folklore. I figured out McCartney III.

Swift: And a lot of people have been baking sourdough bread. Whatever gets you through!

McCartney: Some people used to make radios. And they’d take a crystal - we should look it up, but it actually is a crystal. I thought, “Oh, no, they just called it a crystal radio,” but it’s actually crystals like we know and love.

Swift: Wow.

McCartney: And somehow they get the radio waves - this crystal attracts them - they tune it in, and that’s how they used to get their news. Back to “Eleanor Rigby,” so I would think of her and think of what she’s doing and then just try to get lyrical, just try to bring poetry into it, words you love, just try to get images like “picks up the rice in the church where a wedding has been,” and Father McKenzie “is darning his socks in the night.” You know, he’s a religious man, so I could’ve said, you know, “preparing his Bible,” which would have been more obvious. But “darning his socks” kind of says more about him. So you get into this lovely fantasy. And that’s the magic of songs, you know. It’s a black hole, and then you start doing this process, and then there’s this beautiful little flower that you’ve just made. So it is very like embroidery, making something.

Swift: Making a table.

McCartney: Making a table.

Swift: Wow, it would’ve been so fun to play Glastonbury for the 50th anniversary together.

McCartney: It would’ve been great, wouldn’t it? And I was going to be asking you to play with me.

Swift: Were you going to invite me? I was hoping that you would. I was going to ask you.

McCartney: I would’ve done “Shake It Off.”

Swift: Oh, my God, that would have been amazing.

McCartney: I know it, it’s in C!

Swift: One thing I just find so cool about you is that you really do seem to have the joy of it, still, just no matter what. You seem to have the purest sense of joy of playing an instrument and making music, and that’s just the best, I think.

McCartney: Well, we’re just so lucky, aren’t we?

Swift: We’re really lucky.

McCartney: I don’t know if it ever happens to you, but with me, it’s like, “Oh, my god, I’ve ended up as a musician.”

Swift: Yeah, I can’t believe it’s my job.

McCartney: I must tell you a story I told Mary the other day, which is just one of my favorite little sort of Beatles stories. We were in a terrible, big blizzard, going from London to Liverpool, which we always did. We’d be working in London and then drive back in the van, just the four of us with our roadie, who would be driving. And this was a blizzard. You couldn’t see the road. At one point, it slid off and it went down an embankment. So it was “Ahhh,” a bunch of yelling. We ended up at the bottom. It didn’t flip, luckily, but so there we are, and then it’s like, “Oh, how are we going to get back up? We’re in a van. It’s snowing, and there’s no way.” We’re all standing around in a little circle, and thinking, “What are we going to do?” And one of us said, “Well, something will happen.” And I thought that was just the greatest. I love that, that’s a philosophy.

Swift: “Something will happen.”

McCartney: And it did. We sort of went up the bank, we thumbed a lift, we got the lorry driver to take us, and Mal, our roadie, sorted the van and everything. So that was kind of our career. And I suppose that’s like how I ended up being a musician and a songwriter: “Something will happen.”

Swift: That’s the best.

McCartney: It’s so stupid it’s brilliant. It’s great if you’re ever in that sort of panic attack: “Oh, my God,” or, “Ahhh, what am I going to do?”

Swift: “Something will happen.”

McCartney: All right then, thanks for doing this, and this was, you know, a lot of fun.

Swift: You’re the best. This was so awesome. Those were some quality stories!

#this just might be the longest post I have ever posted #I have so much work so I'll read and edit later #taylor swift #paul mccartney #Rolling Stone magazine #interview #folklore era

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triplexdoublex · 3 years

Text

Pornstar

Pairings: Colson x Reader

Warnings/Tags: rough sex, anal sex, face fucking, gagging, spit, spitting in mouth, slight bondange, golden showers, pissing in mouth, slapping across face, being filmed.

A/N: Shout out to Shawnie ( @heytheregreeneyes) for always letting me use her as my OC and being my best friend. Also Colson isn’t MGK in this, just a pornstar so his personality isn’t as cocky as he usually is. I know I’ve mentioned it before but the sex in this is loosely based off my fave porn star Small Hands AKA Aaron Thompson. Hope this was worth the wait. Lemme know what you think! “Open it, open it!” Your roommate and best friend Shawnie stood before you with a gift bag in hand, shaking it excitedly.

“My birthday’s not even until this weekend,” You laughed taking the bag from her. “You sure you don’t want me to wait? It’s only a few more days.”

“ No please, I’ve kept this a secret for long enough, it’s killing me! Just open it!” She exclaimed. “Plus your gonna need time to prepare.”

“Prepare?”

“C’mom, just open it, open it, open it!!!” She was far too excited. You wondered what it could be that she was so eager to give you. But what you pulled out of the bag just left you with even more questions.

“Thanks???” You said confused, holding up a sexy red lace bra and matching g- string that tied at hips.

“That’s only part of it,” she assured you. “What’s your biggest wish?” She tried to clue you in.

“Ummm paying off all my student debt?” You answered still puzzled. “Did you get me a job as a stripper?” You laughed.

“Okay, maybe ‘wish’ was the wrong word to use … hmmm—oh biggest fantasy!” She corrected herself.

“Oh to fuck my favorite porn star Huge Hands, AKA Colson Baker. You know that — wait … no, no way!” You exclaimed as your friend started frantically nodding her head yes. “Shut up!!! What? You’re kidding. Like how?”

“Look in the bag . There’s more!”

You reached into the bag and pulled out a pass of some kind and read it aloud. “Huge Hands/Colson Baker : Exclusive Access, Porn Star for a Day pass”

“They were super limited, I have no clue how I managed to snag one, but I’m so happy I did! The look on your face right now is priceless!” Shawnie laughed. “It’s probably because you’re the only one I know who’s crazy enough to actually go through with this.”

“I-I don’t even know what to say. I have no words… thank you.” You expressed your gratitude, still in shock. “I’m really about to have the best sex of my life this weekend! On my birthday yet! Have you seen his fucking cock, it’s huuuge!”

“Yes, many times,” Shawnie chuckled , entertained by how pumped you are. “Or did you forget about all the links of his umm ‘work’ you’ve sent me?” Shawnie wasn’t big on porn herself but she was always willing to take an interest in your latest obsessions, no matter what they were. That’s what you loved most about her. “Turn it over, it tells you more about what’s included on the back.”

You did as she suggested, turning the pass over to read more. “Half hour zoom call day before to privately discuss details, and needs/wants of scene; hair and make up; up to one hour of shooting time; and keepsake autographed DVD recording,” you listed off. “You know I’m gonna watch that everyday for the rest of my life, right?”

“I’m assuming you’re gonna make me watch it at least once too, knowing you,” Shawnie laughed.

“Yeah probably,” you laughed as well. “ I got no shame!”

*************

You’re stomach was in knots as you waited for the zoom call to begin; you’d never felt so excited and nervous at the same time. Shawnie was there with you sitting just out of frame, when the ‘bloop’ of the call came through your computer's speakers.

“Hi, Y/N?” Colson questioned.

“Yeah, hi. That’s me!” You did a timid little wave.

“Ok good, just wanted to make sure I got the right person before we get started here. Imagine that … Awkward!,” he laughed, and you instantly began to relax; you could tell he was going to be easy to talk to. “Well, obviously you know what I do , but I’d love to hear a little about you. Says here on your forms you’re a college student?”

“Wait, what forms?” You asked.

“The ones you filled out online with your info and kinks and things you wanted to include in our video when you purchased the Pornstar for a day package,” he answers slightly confused.

“Ohhh, my friend bought me this for my birthday, she must have filled them out.” You responded. “She’s right here. Say hi Shawnie!”

“Hi!” She giggled leaning into frame.

“Hello. Wow this must be some “friendship” he joked making air quotes. “Because this is a very detailed list. You gotta hear this.” He smirks. “Written in the section about what you hope to include in our scene says— and I quote: I want Huge Hands/ Colson to absolutely destroy me. I want him to fuck my throat, my pussy and my ass. I want him to slap me around, and spit and piss in my mouth, and anything else he wants to do to me, I’m all for it.” He choked out a laugh pulling dramatically at the collar of his shirt “Whew, I’m the pornstar here and that’s even got me blushing!”

“Oh my God, Shawnie!” You covered your beet red face.

“What!?, did I lie?” She laughed.

“I mean no, but still. Damn, to hear it out loud like that.” Your eyes bulged.

“So it’s true then?” Colson asked slyly.

“Yeah, that pretty much sums it up,” you hid your smile behind your hand, shaking your head in embarrassed disbelief.

“Aye, no need to be embarrassed, we’re gonna have fun tomorrow, I can tell,” he smiled. “I’m especially excited that your interested in Anal. It’s kinda my favorite. I’m assuming you’ve done it before?”

“Yeah,” you answered simply.

“Do you enjoy it?” He asked.

“Tell him what your ex said!” Shawnie blurted out.

“Oh, boy. I gotta hear this,” he chuckled. “What’d the ex say?”

You inhaled deeply before speaking, “I do enjoy it, probably more than regular sex, if I’m being honest,” you admitted. There was no use trying to be coy now. “Uhhh he actually said I could be a pornstar since I can take a hard anal pounding so well.”

“Nice!” He exclaimed. “Girl, after my own heart.”

“Jesus Christ, this conversation has me sweating already,” you chuckled standing up to pull your cardigan off.

“Is that a little tattoo I saw there, peaking out of the top of your jeans?” He asked.

“Yeah, you wanna see?” You unzipped your jeans without waiting for a response and lowered the top of your underwear just enough to show him.

“ The Playboy bunny, huh? How fitting,” he teased.

“What can I say, it was my first tattoo,” you giggled “Seemed like that’s what everyone was getting at the time.”

“What else you got going on down there?” He lifted his head as if trying to see more. “Is that a landing strip?” He asked referring to the thin dark stripe of short curls just barely visible above the band of your lowered underwear. “Can I see?”

“Yeah, sure,” you lowered them further exposing yourself, your inhibition long gone at that point. “This is just how I normally like to groom. I can shave it completely if you prefer?”

“Nah, it’s perfect,” he smiled. “Well, I think I have a pretty good idea now of what you like and what we’ll be getting ourselves into tomorrow. Do you have any questions or anything else you want me to know, before we end the call?”

“I don’t think so,” you said. “Shawnie pretty much laid it all out on those forms,” you laughed.

“That she did!” He produced a chuckle as well. “I meant to ask earlier, but, since she knows so much about your kinks and what not, have you two ever —“

“ No, just best friends, I tend to overshare, I guess.”

“Yeah it amazes me sometimes, the things women share with their friends, but yet guys are always the ones who are known to kiss and tell and brag about their conquests. Females can be just as bad, y’all just keep it on the low a little better,” he stated. “Well, I look forward to working with you tomorrow. Take care, and I’ll see you soon.”

“Can’t wait!” You responded. “Bye.”

“Bye,”

You felt oddly comforted and at ease after the call, no longer a ball of nerves or embarrassment. He made you feel like there was no shame in enjoying the things you did. He was very professional despite the nature of the call; it didn’t feel sleezy or overly salacious; just two consenting adults having a mature conversation about their sexual desires.

*************************

When you walked out of hair and make-up and onto set, you saw Colson waiting for you on a red leather couch. He was clad in only black dress pants; shirtless — his tattoos on full display. He smiled seductively when he saw you, beckoning you over with a pat to his thighs. You undid your silk robe they had given you and let it slip from your shoulders to the floor, revealing the red lacy set Shawnie had bought you, as you made your way over to him. You suddenly became very aware of all the cameras and other people in the room, as you sat on his lap. Somehow it has slipped your mind that they were all a part of what went into this.

“You get used to it,” he said softly , remembering the way he felt his first time in front of the cameras. “Just pretend they’re not even there— only me and you, okay?” He said brushing a finger along your thigh. “Unless, Shawnie forgot to mention you’re an exhibitionist too, then by all means enjoy them watching us fuck,” he joked, making you laugh. “Don’t forget, if you need me to stop at anytime for any reason, just give me three quick taps,” he demonstrated, tapping your thigh. “Don’t worry about the filming, they can always edit and piece things back together if needed. This is all for you and I want you to enjoy yourself. Oh and happy birthday by the way! It’s today right?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Thank you.”

“Ok, so we’ll just start the scene with some kissing and light touches, and when I feel you’re ready I’ll signal the camera man, he’ll call action, and then we'll be recording.”

“Sounds good,” you nodded your head. He had made you feel so comfortable and relaxed the last bit of nervousness you chalked up to just being slightly star struck; You never thought in a million years you’d get this opportunity.

“Ready?,” he pressed his forehead to yours, staring directly into your eyes, the corners of his mouth turned up into the most alluring devilish grin.

“Ready,” you echoed back, biting your lip trying to suppress a needy whine. God you were always such a sucker for his killer eye contact in his films, and now you were the one his eyes were soul fucking. You’re heart pounded with excited anticipation as Colson’s face drew nearer to your own. He lightly held your chin as he pressed his lips to yours, parting them to introduce his tongue. It was a welcome greeting, cut short by the breathy “oh fuck ” that involuntarily slipped from your lips.

“”You good?” He laughed softly, a small puff of air the only thing separating your mouths; your foreheads still touching.

“More...than good,” you spoke in a short choppy sentence trying to compose yourself.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he smirked against your lips, continuing to kiss you.

You melted into his kisses— slow and gentle at first, increasing in intensity as he carried on. When he nipped at your bottom lip with a low groan, you lost all innocence, shifting positions to straddle his lap. You gripped the back of his head, as he kissed you and rolled your hips against him, demanding more. And that’s when he knew … that you were ready. He quickly signaled to the cameraman with a thumbs up, and “Action” was called.

His hand slipped down from your chin, settling on the highest part of your neck just under your jaw, his fingers squeezing at your pulse points on either side. Roughly he turned your head to the side with a push of his thumb and his mouth began mauling your neck with an appetite for lust, leaving blooming raspberry patches along the descending path of flesh that lead to your breasts. With one hand he expertly undid the front clasp of your red lace bra and took in the sight of you.

“Perfect,” he whispered into your flesh with a growl, taking one breast in each hand as he licked between them, keeping his eyes locked on yours. You slid the silky straps of your lingerie over your shoulders, letting it fall, as he took turns going back and forth between each breast treating each of your nipples to light suction and a pleasurable nibble. You let out a moan at his actions and again rolled your hips in his lap, pressing yourself against the hardening bulge inside his dress pants. “Needy are we?” He teased swiftly spinning you around so your back was to his chest. He dug his chin into your shoulder peering over it as he snatched up the crotch of your panties roughly, tugging the material up between your lips . You canted your hips up chasing after the friction of the coarse fabric against your clit. “You like that, huh?” He pulled them harsher.

“Mmmm, yes” you squeaked out, nodding your head.

“Yeah, I bet you do,” he growled nipping at your neck. “Look at this pretty pussy,” he shoved the material to the side exposing you, letting his fingers explore your folds as he pleased. “You want my cock right in here huh?” His voice was so gravelly and low as he slipped a finger inside you, only to quickly pull it back out, teasing you. “Taste yourself,” he brought the finger to your mouth. You wrapped your lips around it, as he slid it further into your mouth, his long fingers slipping down the back of your throat. “Oh, god, yes!” He exclaimed impressed by how you didn’t even gag. “Tell ya what—“ he paused to add a second finger to your mouth, continuing to talk as you sucked “If you can suck my dick as good as that—“ he then pulled them back out of your mouth. “I might just have to fuck you right in here too,” he shoved his spit slicked fingers into your ass.

“Yes, fuck, please!” You whined, wiggling your hips, wanting his fingers deeper.

“You like that? Huh. You dirty little anal whore!” He grabbed your neck with his free hand, keeping you pinned back against him, the fingers of his other hand still moving inside you.

“Yes, yes! I am,” you strained to speak. “Please, please fuck my ass!” You whined impatiently with pleasure. You never heard yourself sound so needy and desperate in your life.

“You sound you pretty when you beg, but you're gonna have to earn it first,” he demanded pulling out his fingers, leaving you feeling empty. Quickly, you dropped to your knees in front of the couch as Colson got up standing before you. You waited impatiently while Colson unbuckled his belt above you. Once undone he yanked the belt free from the loops with a satisfying ‘whoosh’ that made you pulse between your thighs. You desperately clawed his pants and boxers down his legs like a feral cat in heat as Colson brought the tip to your mouth, still holding onto his belt in the other. “Open!,” he demanded. “Goooood,” he growled in praise as you did what you were told. You reached up to grab it but ,“no hands!” he smacked them away, and then secured them behind your back with his belt. “Let’s try this again, open!” He spoke harshly. You obliged, opening wide. “Tongue” he barked. You let it hang from your mouth with anticipation; eager breaths rolling down it like a panting dog eyeing a steak. He teased you, slapping his cock against your tongue before shoving it fully into your mouth. Your eyes prickled with tears as you fought your gag reflex, taking him down your throat. He held your head in place with one hand , the tip of your nose pressed flush against the coarse hair of his pelvis, as he hunched his body forward over yours untying the sides of your G-string. It slipped from your body leaving you completely nude. Colson smacked your ass, then gripped it harshly, making it jiggle for him before finally standing straight up and pulling his hips back to let you come up for air.

“Huuuuuuhhhh,” you inhaled sharply gasping for breath, letting oxygen penetrate deep into your lungs before Colson stuffed your mouth again. Mascara ran down your hollowed out cheeks as you sucked. You started pulling back out of instinct when you began to gag but Colson held you in place.

“No, keep it in your mouth,” he instructed condescendingly, looking down at you. “Just a little longer” he promised. You tried your best, Colson letting out a throaty moan every time your raw, used throat constricted around him as he fucked into it. “Mmmgghh,” he groaned, pulling out of your mouth “Goooood girl,” he praised with a smirk, before bending down to give you a sloppy kiss, swapping mouthfuls of saliva. Just as he pulled away he let a long string of collected spit slip from his pursed lips and into your open mouth, where you eagerly accepted it, moaning as you swallowed it down.

You let out a breathy “awhhh” as you opened your mouth again, wiggling your tongue enticingly.

“Such a dirty, fucking whore,” he bent down again and spat directly in your face. He smeared it all over your face with his hand before grabbing you by the neck, pulling you to your feet. “Turn around,” he ordered. You did as he said and Colson undid his belt from around your wrists. Before you even had a chance to soothe your sore wrists with a rub, Colson spun you around and pushed you down onto your back on the couch, your ass teetering on the edge of the red leather cushion. “Spread yourself for me,” he instructed, as he pumped himself. Again you did as you were told; you pulled your legs up, wrapping an arm around each thigh, holding them back as you parted your opening with your fingers. “God, you’re so fucking wet.” He teased the head of his cock through the glistening mess on display for him.

“Fuck me,” you said in an inpatient huff, staring into his eyes.

“Awhhh, yessss,” he groaned out, slack jawed as he sank into you

“Ohhh, shit,” you screamed out , face twisted in pleasure, your eyes slipping shut, at the feeling of him burying himself deep in your cunt.

“Open your eyes. Look at me!” He spoke harshly, cupping your face in his hands as he thrust. You opened your eyes, trying to focus on his, but your vision was spotted by the intensity of it all. “Feel good?” He pressed his forehead to yours just as he’d done earlier , starring directly into the windows to your soul as he fucked you. You nodded the best you could, but that wasn’t good enough for him. “Words, I want words. Say yes!”

“Yes.. yes,” you responded breathily, biting at your lip.

“Yeah, Mmmghhh, that’s it. Fuck, I like it when you use your words” he moaned , shifting himself to be more upright. He then spit on the tips of his fingers and brought them to your clit and began rubbing it furiously, his cock still destroying you.

“OH Fuck!” You cried out, wiggling and bucking your hips.

“You gonna fucking stay still? He roughly grabbed your face, squeezing your cheeks. You nodded your head, trying your best to calm your body’s erratic, pleasure driven movements as he thrust. “Words!” He spat, his hand letting go of your face only to connect it to your cheek again with a quick, yet harsh slap.

“Shit! ...Yes!” You corrected yourself once again, Your body was loving how aggressive he was getting the longer he fucked you and he could tell; spitting at and striking your face again.

“Turn over!” He ordered, abruptly pulling out. “Hands on the back of the couch.” He roughly assisted you in turning around , and you placed your hands where instructed. You arched your back and pushed your ass out waiting for him to re enter you from the new position. “This is where you really want it, huh?” He teased his cock over your asshole.

“Yes!,” you remembered to use your words this time.

“You’re a dirty little fucking anal whore, aren’t you? He asked, he question sounding a lot more like a statement. “Let me hear you said it.” He applied pressure to your hole with the tip, as he yanked back a fist full of your hair.

“I’m a dirty little fucking anal whore!,” you repeated desperately pushing back against him.

“Mmmghh!, That you are!” He confirmed with a groan, snapping hips hips forward, quickly entering you.

“Uhhhhh, Oh my God!” You exclaimed at the feeling. You never fully understood why you enjoyed anal as much as you did, perhaps it was the pleasurable fullness, the taboo aspect, the fact that you were one of the few woman who were into it, or the way so many men were obsessed with it , and the look on their face when they found out you were more than willing to take it up the ass, but you absolutely loved it, and this time was no different. Every jack hammered thrust brought you closer and closer to the edge, especially when Colson reached around to between your legs adding the friction of his fingers to your clit. The sensation of your ass being stuffed combined with his touch was the perfect recipe for orgasm and you felt it building every time his cock slid in and out.

“Yeah, cum for me,” he could feel you tightening around him. His words perfectly in sync with the jolt of pleasure boiling over in your abdomen and ripping through you with vast intensity. A series of explitives and sounds you’ve never heard yourself make, flew from you lips as your body went boneless under Colson. He quickly pulled out, turned you back over and came across your face with a few pumps of his hand. He collapsed to the side of you briefly, before tugging you off the couch and onto your knees. “I’m not done with you just yet,” he spoke out of breath taking his softening dick in his hand. Your eyes lit up, you knew what he was referring too— the only thing on your list of wants he hadn’t included yet. “Say ahhh!”

“Ahhh,” you echoed the request, letting his golden stream fill your mouth, splash off your tongue and dribble down your chin and body. You giggled, piss spilling from your smile as you looked up at him, all your fantasies now fulfilled.

“Annnd cut!” Called the director. A few stage hands scrambled to bring you both a towel and small refreshments. “Almost done, just gonna get you guys a little cleaned up, rehydrated, let you catch your breath a bit, and then film the little quick, post scene interview.

“Ok,” you both answered.

Colson tossed his towel over his shoulders and reached out his hand to you “You, good?” He asked with a faint laugh , watching your hand shake as you drank your water.

“Yeah,” you answered letting him pull you up onto the couch.

“You were amazing,” he said, rubbing your back. He knew the come down from the adrenal rush of scenes could be taxing, especially from rough ones . “You —“

“Ready,” the director interrupted, cutting him short, and immediately pressing record. “So how was it?” the director focused the camera on you first.

“Oh my god.. mind blowing,” you answered , still out of breath, adjusting your towel.

“And you?” The director turned the camera to Colson.

“ Absolutely amazing. She was a natural. I’d love to work with her again.”

#colson baker #colson baker fanfic #colson baker smut #colson baker x reader #mgk #mgk fanfic #mgk smut #mgk x reader #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly fanfic #machine gun kelly smut #machine gun kelly x reader #small hands #aaron thompson

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1kook · 4 years

Text

netflix & chill

summary If you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality. warnings grinding, 2 seconds of sub kook, oral (f), cum eating, vanilla but [ passionate ], unprotected sex, dirty talk tags use of the oldest trick in the book (“your hands are sooo big”), shy oblivious AND gentleman jk? pick a struggle, brief ment of app developer kook, evil and conniving oc wc 10.2k !! wow!!

will I ever write a serious jk fic? NO. this entire thing was based off this pic of jungkook which i’ve said before that i would print out in sepia filter and crumple and stuff in a drawer n then tell my kids 35 years from now was a long lost lover i met on a cruise to the bahamas and never saw again ty to mia more @daechwlta for being there during my brief crisis over this fic 🥺

When Namjoon had first not so subtly mentioned the idea of setting you up on a date, it was with a faux air of disinterest that you had masterfully pried the details out of him. Namjoon has a friend, he said, a friend who was kinda sorta attached to his hip. And while Namjoon loved the kid, he also thought this friend could use some social interaction outside of Namjoon.

Now you and Namjoon weren’t exactly the most conventional of friends for him to be proposing blind dates to you at whim. He was your senior at school, your mentor in your scholarship program, an educated man studying for his masters. So when he’d first uttered the words you were immediately on the fence. Sure, the two of you knew each other well and probably got along better than most mentor-mentee pairings among your year, but you doubt Namjoon knew enough of your tastes to offer you up for a blind date.

According to Namjoon, his friend was a kid in the same year as you, making him not so much as a kid as he was your classmate. You brushed it off at first, spewing some bullshit excuse that you’d rather focus on your studies, and how dating was a distraction to your education, as if you hadn’t spent the weekend prior binge watching some Spanish novella while you dutifully ignored your essay.

The second time Namjoon mentions it you agree on the spot. Life on campus could only be interesting for so long, so you might as well make the best of it and go on as many stupid dates as possible.

Namjoon is over the moon.

He tells you he’ll pass your phone number on over to that friend of his—“Jeon Jungkook”—and promises you you won’t regret this because his friend was amazing, really. And for Namjoon to sing his praises for just any underclassmen was unheard of. In fact, besides you, you don’t think Namjoon knows many other students younger than him, and if he did, you hardly doubt he would regard them so highly.

So he gives his friend your number, and so ends your weekly meeting with your mentor. You only realize on the walk back to your dorm that you forgot to ask him about some club at school, the whole goal of this week’s meeting, but by then you don’t really care, the whole conversation fading into the background.

In fact, you forget about the whole ordeal until Friday night rolls around and you’re once again, binge watching another novella on your laptop, when your phone suddenly vibrates.

You were by no means a loser at school, a friendless nobody, but you were also not the outgoing, school-spirited student on the front page of your school’s website, and thus had nearly every app that could produce a notification on your phone muted, every text thread silenced. The only notifications and messages you allowed were from your email and from your roommate, and considering the fact Doyeon was face down in a puddle of her own mid-semester tears right across from you, it was probably your email.

Much to your surprises, it isn’t that “Monday’s Class is CANCELLED” email you were hoping for, but instead some unknown number in a text notification. You roll your eyes, click it open thinking it’s a reminder from some store or from some guy claiming to be from your bank, only to pause at the words written inside the little grey bubble.

hey its jungkook!!! joon gave me your number to I guess ask you on a date soo are you free tmrw night??

The excessive punctuation reminds you a little bit of your kid sister back home and the dorky emails she’ll send you from time to time. It’s with that memory and a smile on your face, that you’re suddenly reminded of what exactly this message is saying. “Oh shit,” you mumble, moving to sit up and reread the text. Doyeon complaining loudly in the background has you reading it twice more before you understand it, and by then there’s a fluttery feeling in your chest.

You were by no means easily swayed by people, but this guy had received praise from Kim Namjoon of all people, so he definitely had some prestige to his name. He doesn’t seem overbearing from this one text he’d sent, but he also didn’t seem completely disinterested.

You try to match his nonchalant energy, letting him know you were in fact free and down to meet him, just to let you know more details.

You won’t lie, there’s a giddy feeling bubbling within you at the prospect of getting all dolled up, hitting the town, pawning a free meal off some unsuspecting college soul, and maybe even hitting it off. It’s been a while since you’ve dated, sue you.

Jeon Jungkook’s response crushes those dreams as well as hurdles you straight into a nightmare.

cool!! was thinking i could cook for us at my place, drink a little wine, maybe Netflix and chill a little bit??

You are blown away by the absolute gall of this man, to butter you up by painting a pretty picture only to reduce you to a mere booty call. The fact he had felt confident enough to say all that within the same sentence blows your mind.

Did this Jeon Jungkook, who you had no idea of what he looked like, who had no idea of what you looked like, seriously just invite you over for some quote unquote Netflix and chill?

Who, in the ever living hell, was this guy who so sleazily invited women over to fuck with no qualms about who they were?

You’re offended that Namjoon would set you up like this, pawn you off to such a greasy friend. But then again, you guess not everyone knows their friends thoroughly, because this Jeon Jungkook flirtatiously inviting your over for some sex sounds nothing like the golden boy Kim Namjoon had raved about earlier this week. You click your phone off, tapping the device against your lips as you ponder how to best rip this jerk to shreds via text.

It’s amidst Doyeon cursing out her statistics teacher that an idea hits you.

Tomorrow was Saturday night, and as far as you knew, you really didn’t have anything else going on for you anyway. You’d take Jeon Jungkook’s offer, let him cook you a free meal and drink some of his wine. He mentioned having his own place, and vaguely you remember Namjoon saying he lived alone, hence his introverted tendencies, so you could slip in and out without doing that walk of shame through a boy’s dorm hall.

Not that there would be anything to feel shameful about. In fact, if you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality.

Ha! That would certainly teach the asshole not to use his poor, unsuspecting friends to reel in nice girls like you into one night stands.

You could practically feel the devil horns begging to poke out of your skull, the forked tail wiggling behind you, as you click your phone back on and text Jeon Jungkook a great!! what’s your address :)

——

Saturday morning and afternoon are as boring as they usually are. You do a little homework, and spend thirty minutes filling Doyeon in on your master plan, which she eats up and even gives you some pointers—“and then you can be like, ‘you sick freak, as if I’d let you near this 5-star, Michelin reviewed, Gordon Ramsey approved coochie’ and throw the whole plate at his head!”—before getting ready for your little date at Jeon Jungkook’s.

You try hard to look good, harder than you would have if he hadn’t offended you by reducing you to a booty call, and Doyeon helps. She does your eyebrows all nice and natural, dusts the thinnest shin of liquid highlighter across the high points of your face, the whole shebang until you’re looking like a sexy, glowing goddess. You shimmy into a pretty dress, nothing too fancy nor too casual, and even pull on those strappy sandals you’d bought on sale last winter before blowing a kiss to Doyeon and meeting your Uber downstairs.

You don’t quite remember what the reason behind Jeon Jungkook living in such a swanky neighborhood a few minutes from campus was, if it was from a job you vaguely recall Namjoon mentioning, or if it was just purely hereditary, but his place is nice. It’s a connected townhouse, something you’d expect a newly wed couple to live in and not some douchebag third year.

Worse comes to worse, you get banned from this rich neighborhood after humiliating one of its residents in his own home, not that you’d ever make it big enough to live here anyway.

You’d texted Namjoon sometime that morning to let him know you were meeting his friend, an ominous text with an even more ominous smiley face attached to it. But it seems Namjoon is easily blinded by underclassmen he trusts, if Jeon Jungkook’s assholish feats and your own suspicious behavior is anything to go by, because he texts you back a polite have fun! he’s a little shy, so it might take a while for the ball to start rolling hahahaha.

Shy my ass, you think closing the door of your Uber behind you. You double check the address that had been texted to you, walking up to the neat townhouse and knocking against the polished door.

It’s a little chilly, and you hope finding an Uber is easier later tonight when you make your grand escape. It’s between these thoughts that the door swings open, revealing the most handsome man you’ve ever met.

He’s attractive, disgustingly so, with dark hair and light brown tips to contrast, tickling his cheekbones. His dark eyes are round and imploring as they meet yours, gaze almost innocent and doe like as he takes you in. He’s got this soft, blue turtleneck on, and it looks like it should be a seasonal sweater reserved for the holidays but he pulls it off nicely on this premature spring night. His pretty pink lips move, and it takes you a second to realize he’s talking.

“___?” He says, and his voice is deep, yet soft in its own unique way. You nod, like a stupid bobble head, because your throat constricted the moment this beautiful angel opened the door. “It’s cold outside, come in!” He urges you, out stretching his palm to make sure you don’t trip over the slight step up the door as he brings you into his home.

“Hi,” he exhales when you’re finally inside, standing a little too close to you in his small entryway.

“Hi,” you finally choke out, a little dazed by how handsome he is, and the sudden realization that you’re supposed to throw your glass of wine at him tonight because he’s a douchebag dawns on you. You blink yourself out of your stupor, taking a step back and gesturing towards your sandal clad feet.

“Oh!” Jeon Jungkook exclaims at the sudden realization. “I forgot to set out a pair of slippers for you,” he sheepishly admits, before he excuses himself to go get some. There’s a tiny ottoman pushed against the wall, beneath a long mirror, that you take a seat on it, carefully unstrapping your sandals.

All the while, you’re deep in thought.

It makes sense that someone like Jeon Jungkook was so forward in inviting you over for sex during your first interaction. Realistically speaking, the guy had it all. He lived alone in a swanky townhouse in a wealthy neighborhood (you finally remember Namjoon saying he did some app developing for major companies—yeah, still in college but already making it big because he was that good), and looked like the blueprint for the perfect man, someone who’d impress your parents. On top of that, the man was was a 21st century Adonis. You hadn’t missed the flash of ink on his knuckles, or the way his jeans had hugged his legs.

He’s making his way back now, inspecting the slippers in his hands, and you don’t miss the way the jeans are pulled taut around his thighs in particular.

Yeah, he definitely knew his way around a woman’s body, there was no way he couldn’t have.

You slip your feet into the slippers he places before you, wiggling your toes around, before glancing back at Jungkook. He smiles warmly, a little beauty mark beneath his lip making itself known. He takes your hand, pulls you up onto your feet, and begins guiding you down the hall and to what you assume is the kitchen.

“I didn’t know what you liked, and I figured asking you three hours before you came over would be too awkward,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. He glances at you again, and upon seeing your inquisitive stare, quickly turns away with flushed cheeks.

Oh this man knew the game, and he knew it well.

Jeon Jungkook still thinks he can play that cute campus boy being set up by his senior card now, after he’d shown you his true colors last night via text. But he has a big storm coming. As much as you could admit he was good to look at, you would not be fooled by some pretty face and tasty food. No, you came here with one goal and one goal only, and that was to give Jeon Jungkook a piece of his own two-faced medicine before running off to tattle to Namjoon.

You reach the kitchen and the heavenly smell of Alfredo sauce swarms your nostrils. “I… I’m still new to cooking, so I hope you don’t mind some Alfredo pasta,” he admits, shy smile adorning his features as he avoids your gaze once again to toy with the dish towel by the sink.

You creep closer to the counter, where two meticulously presented ceramic plates sit beside a wine bottle, and the glands in your mouth suddenly go into overdrive in their rush to make you salivate, and you choke out an overly eager, “it looks amazing!” before you know it.

Okay, you came here with two goals.

——

Jungkook carries the two bowls in his big hands to the dining room beside the kitchen, and you follow behind with the bottle of wine and two glasses as you set the table together. The utensils are already there, but Jungkook runs back into the kitchen anyway to return with some fancy cloth napkins for the two of you.

Just as you're tugging a chair out to sit, Jungkook beats you to it. “Ah, let me,” he smiles, and your heart thunders nervously in your chest as you return the expression, brushing your hands beneath you before sitting down and letting him push you in. Jungkook takes his own seat in front of you, and before you can dig in he calls out to seemingly nobody, “Alexa, dim the dining room lights.”

The overhead lights dim, and with their overbearing glow gone, you can finally appreciate the battery powered candles snuggled neatly into a little bowl on the table between you two. You ooh appreciatively, and Jungkook looks proud of himself.

Then, he says, “Alexa, play…Date Night Playlist.”

You blink, and a soft piano tune begins filtering through a speaker he’s hidden somewhere in the room. Even with the fake candles being your main source of light, the flush on Jungkook’s cheeks is evident as he gestures towards you to eat.

You won’t lie. Jeon Jungkook was extremely endearing.

This much becomes evident the further you get into the meal. As small talk devolves into full fledged conversations and story telling, his shy demeanor slipping away but still sticking to the edges of his personality, you begin to have a more difficult time connecting this Jungkook to the one who had less than 24 hours ago asked you to come over and “Netflix and chill” with him.

But the more you speak, the more distant that image begins to feel. For one, Jungkook does put on a fairly reserved aura for you, telling you about his job but refusing to brag about it even when you egg him on. He has no qualms gassing up his friends, Namjoon in particular, who Jungkook claims is his role model for some unknown reason, given the fact they are neither in the same major nor in any of the same clubs. They’re friends, point blank period, but Namjoon is very obviously a star in Jungkook’s eyes.

Additionally, he’s quite embarrassed to admit why Namjoon had been so set on getting Jungkook to date, but eventually tells you it’s because Jungkook’s last girlfriend had been during your freshman year—two whole years ago! It makes you wonder what he’d been doing since then, if he’d used the time to fully invest in his work or if he’d been mingling around, unbeknownst to his friends, which would explain the flirtatious offer that landed you here.

Still, a part of you refuses to believe last night’s Jungkook and tonight’s Jungkook were one in the same, and if they were, what had made this shy man so unabashedly invite you over for some sex. Was this act all a ploy? Or maybe, was he purposefully trying to ward you away by coming off as a gentleman now that he’d seen your face and wasn’t interested in you anymore?

Apparently it’s neither of the two, and you don’t realize this until you finish your meal and make your way into his living room to finally get down to the long awaited Netflix and chilling. It’s only when you sit down on the couch, smack dab in the middle, because at this point, you’re not gonna throw your wine at Jeon Jungkook like you planned, he was too nice. And if this niceness was an act to get in your panties, you didn’t care at this point. He was hot, achingly so, and at least you’d get a good fuck out of it.

But as you said, apparently not. Because Jeon Jungkook sees you purposefully take up the entire middle of the couch, sultry eyes staring him down, and decides to sit flush against the armrest, somehow leaving a good foot between the two of you, despite the fact you’re sitting next to each other.

Your brain can’t work fast enough to comprehend the situation, before he’s asking you what you want to watch. “Um,” you say, pointedly staring at him and not the screen. “Tr-Transformers?”

The way Jungkook’s eyes light up is insane, already round eyes nearly popping out of their sockets as he eagerly rushes to select it from whatever streaming service he has, probably not even Netflix, all the while chattering on about how much he loves that series, and is so glad you do too.

The whole time, you’re struck by the oddness of his casual tone, the way he’s overly invested in the 20th Century Fox opening, and how he’s very carefully avoiding intruding in on your personal space.

The last point in particular has you wanting to pull your hair out, because you want Jeon Jungkook intruding in on your personal space. You want him pressed so tightly against you you can’t breathe, you can’t move, until you’re drowning in him as he finally lives up to his promise of some Netflix and chill, because you want him, and you want him so. very. bad.

“Oh, I forgot the popcorn!” Jungkook exclaims, and you jump at the sudden volume of his voice, because he’d been pretty silent as he avidly watched the first few minutes of the movie. “Sorry,” he chuckles, and his leg brushes against yours as he shuffles between you and the coffee table on his way out. You vaguely hear the popping of the popcorn in the kitchen, but you’re too distracted by your suddenly overwhelming thoughts.

Okay, one thing was for sure, and that was that Jeon Jungkook definitely had no fucking idea what the phrase Netflix and chill meant, because the way he’d zeroed in on the movie and the popcorn, and not you, was unheard of on such invitations. You deduce he probably heard it somewhere, and, now understanding the true nature of Jungkook’s sweet and shy personality, made no such perverted connection to the phrase.

Which meant he most definitely did not demean you to a mere booty call, like you’d deluded yourself into believing, someone he could hump and dump with no regrets, before calling Namjoon up to thank him. Which meant he’d had no ulterior motives in meeting you tonight, just planning to get to know you at the suggestion of his friend, and had—unbeknownst to him—successfully wooed you thus far.

Which was great! If you turned a blind eye to the evil, conniving plans you’d made without even meeting the guy, and the subsequent flood of self-inflicted disapproval when you realized Jeon Jungkook was a sweetheart who definitely did not deserve having a glass of wine thrown at his face after making you a home cooked meal and giving you the full Olive Garden experience, with his dimmed lights and candlelit dinner and piano music on the background.

Yeah. Perfectly fine.

The only problem now was that you had become so dangerously smitten with the man that you wanted to sleep with him. You wanted that Netflix and chill, needed it like it was the last slot in a daycare class and you were a soccer mom of five wanting to get at least one kid out of the house for the summer for the sake of her own sanity. You were desperate.

No, you scold yourself. This was fine, this was good, this was perfectly okay. If anything, this just further made you enamored with Jungkook, because it proved how gentlemanly he was by not trying to sleep with you on the first date.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to, the devil on your shoulder crooned.

The microwave in the kitchen stops, and you hear the sound of cabinets opening as Jungkook pours the popcorn into a bowl. On screen, the main character is meeting a bunch of giant cars-turned-robots, you don’t fucking know.

But the devil was right.

Jungkook hadn’t offered to sleep with you, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to. Furthermore, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be seduced into wanting to, your evil brain suggested, and the hope that had slithered it’s way into your chest from the very moment Jungkook had opened the door, took that fact and ran with it.

“What’d I miss?” Jungkook says when he returns, popcorn bowl in hand.

“Oh, um, he was with the car,” you offer, trying to stop the nefarious smirk from slipping onto your features. Jungkook laughs, cute and airy as he shuffles past you.

He’s too absorbed in the screen, not looking as he sits down, closer than last time until his thigh brushes yours and he jerks back in embarrassment. “Oh, sorry,” he flounders, goes to move away but you act fast.

You grab onto his upper arm with both of yours like an octopus, keeping him flush to you as you gaze up at him with wide eyes. “No, it’s okay,” you rush to assure him, loosening your hold as he tentatively relaxes beside you. You glance down at the popcorn bowl in his hand, swiping a piece to pop between your lips. “It’s easier for us this way,” you say, and you’re pulling that straight out of your ass, because you hate popcorn and have literally zero desire for it and wouldn’t have reached for it anyway if you weren’t trying to convince him this was all for popcorn sharing purposes.

Jungkook’s eyes briefly flicker down to where you’re munching on that popcorn, your lips, before he’s quickly averting his gaze. “Ah, y-yeah,” he agrees, and though he tries to relax back into the couch, you can still feel the tension of his muscles as he settles beside you.

With his eyes no longer trained on you, you snuggle closer into his side resting your cheek against the soft material covering his shoulder, finally letting that devious smirk slip onto your face. You keep yourself close to Jungkook, loving the way his warmth permeates the thick sweater he’s wearing, even if he’s still overly into the movie. You know he’s seen it before, because he keeps telling you random tidbits like, “they use this in the next movie!” Or “he ends up becoming really important in the sixth movie,” and you want to listen to this endearing nerd’s commentary, you really do, but once your brain is stuck on horny, it is stuck on horny.

He doesn’t even eat a lot of popcorn, setting it down not ten minutes later onto the coffee table. You release him as he moves forward, but quickly latch onto him again when he sits back down.

Much to your surprise, Jungkook is way more relaxed then, shrugging you off to rest his hand on the couch behind you, and you inwardly squeal at the prospect of getting to cuddle up to his body, and not just his arm. You cuddle in close to him, leaving your slippers on the ground as you tuck your legs up onto the couch cushions.

Jungkook is so warm and firm, and you know it’s your horny brain speaking, but you swear you feel a tight set of abs underneath the palm you rest on his stomach, and you give an experimental brush over the area. His heart picks up, you hear it by where your head is leaning against his chest, and you tilt your head up to give him a curious glance. His cheeks are red, and he doesn’t look at you even though you know he sees you, so you decide to kick things up a notch.

You sigh loudly, peeling yourself away from him to properly level him with a pout. “Jungkook, aren’t you hot in this?” You ask, pinching the wooly material between two fingers and pulling it from his skin. Jungkook finally looks away from the screen, nibbling his lower lip as he takes in your quizzical expression.

“Um, only a little… but it’s fine!” He rushes to say, and you recall from your conversations over dinner that Jungkook doesn’t much like people fussing over him, so you quickly change gears.

You press a hand against your cheek, the same one that had been resting against his shoulder earlier. “Oh, well… it’s really itchy,” you announce, and his eyes widen, one hand absentmindedly reaching to clutch the material at his chest. “It’s making me really itchy,” you emphasize, and part of you feels bad for taking advantage of his caring nature, but this is all for the greater good, you convince yourself. “Do you mind taking it off?”

“I, uh, yeah,” he agrees, reaching for the hem of his sweater before carefully peeling it off. When he pulls it over his head, you can’t help the triumphant grin that overtakes your face, though you quickly mask it when he finally frees himself from the material. “Better?” He says once he’s clad in only a plain black shirt.

“Mm, much,” you sigh, and nearly soak your panties then and there when a tattooed sleeve comes into view. “Woah!” You exclaim, snatching his wrists up to examine his skin. “What’s this?” You marvel, tracing every inch of delicious skin with your predatory gaze. Jungkook huffs out a laugh, and you glance up to watch as he rubs the back of his neck in that same embarrassed way he’d done multiple times throughout your night together.

“My tattoos,” he says, and then seems to realize the simplicity of his statement and rushes to add to it, “I hope you don’t mind?”

You hum, shifting onto your knees to face him as you continue tracing over a huge tiger lily by his forearm. “Why would I? It’s your body,” you say, and watch the nervous glance melt off his face as he regards you with something new. Something akin to wonder as he lets you trace over more of his ink, nodding along to your words.

“Yeah… yeah!” He agrees, and you grin at his sudden zeal. He chuckles, physically relaxing beneath your touch, and it’s probably the most relaxed he’s been all night as you continue rubbing your hands over every tattoo on his skin, and then purposefully focusing on the ones near his bicep. “Sorry, ‘m just used to people pushing off their own opinions about them onto me,” he explains, and for a moment, the horniness that had been fueling you all night fades away, and you let your hands trail down, past his wrist, until you’re sandwiching his hand between yours.

“Fuck what anyone else thinks,” you tell him, eyes hard as you imagine anyone imposing their stupid thoughts on Jungkook, who was too good for this world. “If you think they’re cool, then they're the coolest thing in the world.”

He smiles at you, and you’ve seen this smile about a million times tonight—when you first came in, when you talked about yourself at dinner, when you mentioned this stupid movie—but it has something swelling in your chest. Something too intimate for a first date, so you quickly move to repress it.

Glancing down at his hand in yours, littered with smaller tattoos across his knuckles, your brain whirls into action. Bringing it up between the two of you, you turn his hand over to line your palms up. “Wow, your hands are so big,” you sigh, slowly reverting back to dirty thoughts as you twist yours and Jungkook’s hands this way and that. He snorts, bends the tips of his fingers over yours just to hear you ooooh again.

“Yeah, they’re pretty big,” he agrees, completely ignoring the film playing on the screen, which is a huge win in your eyes considering how deeply he’d been watching it earlier.

Finally, you see an opening and pounce.

“Well, that means something else is pretty big too,” you murmur, chancing a glance up at his face. His face is the perfect definition of composed, and you can tell when exactly he processes your words because those little pink lips part in surprise, red slowly filling the apples of his cheeks. You let go of his palm, letting it slide between your fingers until it falls limp beside him.

Jungkook watches you with wide eyes, as you raise yourself up onto your knees. “Jungkook?” You mumble, giving him no warning before you’re throwing a leg across his lap, knees pressed into the couch on either side of his thighs.

“Y-Yes?” He stutters, brown hair falling away from his face as he stares up at you. You flash him a sweet smile, and you can tell it relaxes him because his fists unclench beside him.

“You’re a really nice boy,” you sigh, and when you’ve scooted your knees a little closer to his ridiculously thin waist, you finally let yourself sit. You find yourself right before his crotch, which he desperately tries to hide as he shifts around, but can’t with you on top of him. You let your hands flutter to rest at his shoulders, and he gulps. “You’re so sweet and cute,” you add, relish in the flush that climbs up to his ears. “But I’m a little sad you invited me over to Netflix and chill, but won’t do just that,” you pout, a finger tangling itself in a soft strand at the back of his head.

“Huh?” He stutters, eyes nearly bulging out when you wiggle around again. “I-I’m sorry?” He huffs, and when you move too close to his crotch, where his jeans are slowly growing more and more strained, he panics and reaches a hand out to steady your waist.

You feign confusion, flashing him another pout as you duck closer until your noses bump against each other. “You know what it means, don’t you, Jungkook?” You inquire, eyes falling dangerously lidded as you swallow up every inch of his appearances.

He stutters, hands moving up and down as if he doesn’t know where to put them anymore. But you know exactly where Jungkook can put those hands, and you waste no time catching his wrists in your hands to guide him towards your hips. “No?” He breathes, fingers flexing against you, and you smile sweetly at him.

“It means,” you purr, shifting forward until you’re flush against where you need him most. You can barely contain the whimper that climbs out of your throat when you finally feel the rough material of his jeans against your panties. “It means you wanna fuck, Jungkook,” you exhale, tossing your head back as your body basks in the slight reprieve, the way Jungkook squirms beneath you aiding greatly in providing that sensation you craved.

“It’s nothing more than an excuse,” you huff, placing a hand on the back of his neck to steady yourself. At your touch, Jungkook jolts, thighs jumping beneath you and you stifle another groan when the zipper of his jeans prods against your core. “For you to fuck my brains out while some s-stupid movie plays in the background.”

You’re not sure when, but sometime during that last explanation your hands had fully delved into the thick tresses of Jungkook’s hair. You give an experimental tug, and poor Jungkook, so lost in all that you’re telling him, lolls his head back for you easily until the long expanse of his neck is available, soft creamy skin yours for the taking.

You pounce, kissing the skin gently at first, before sprinkling in a handful of nibbles. He’s sensitive, devastatingly so, as he gasps at a particular suck. You suction your lips on the spot below his ear, carefully biting down on the skin as he unravels beneath you. “Will you do it, Jungkookie?” You murmur against the shell of his ear,

He nods eagerly, and his fingers hurt where he’s pressed them deep into your waist, like he’s trying to brand you as his with his mere strength alone. “Y-Yes,” he exhales, hips jerking when you swipe your tongue over the pretty mark you’d left on his perfect skin.

You smother your smirk against his neck, grinding down on him once again. “Yes what?” You tease, and let his strong hands roll you against him afterwards.

“Yes, I-I’ll…” he stumbles, eyes dazed as he watches you through hooded lids. You raise a brow at him, shifting in his lap. It’s enough to kickstart him back up, and he’s biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. “I’ll fuck you, I’ll fuck you just like you want,” he rambles. He surprises you when he begins rutting up against you, so animalistic and uncontrolled, nothing like the sweet Jungkook that had indulged you over dinner. “I’ll make you come, p-promise,” he rasps.

You smirk down at him, hoping he doesn’t see the metaphorical horns sticking out of your head the further he falls into your trap. Before he can say anything else, you surge forward, slotting your mouths together for the first time that night.

It’s no surprise that Jungkook kisses just like he speaks, carefully like he’s afraid one hard press of his lips will ward you off. His lips are smooth, a fact you’d hyper-fixated on all night as he spoke, but before you can ponder on that any further, something hot and wet is prodding at your lower lip.

The gasp you barely manage to contain ends up escaping anyway when Jungkook’s hand comes up to cup the side of your face, tilting your head to the side as his tongue slithers into your mouth. You become obsessed with the way he touches you, every bit the gentlemen he’d been all night, fingers just barely pressing into your cheek like he doesn’t want to mess up your makeup. His other hand, snuggly wrapped around your waist, pulls you tighter against him until your chests are pressed together.

And that tongue. That tongue of his that leaves no room for argument, quickly shutting down any attempts of yours to overtake him. He’s graceful about it too, one nudge enough to convince you he’s got this, he’ll take care of you. You whimper, a sound Jungkook swallows before he’s biting down on your lower lip.

When he pulls away, his lips are red and glossy, and you wonder if yours are too. “Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he sighs, gazing at you like he can’t believe you’re there in front of him.

Before you can say anything else, he’s burying his face in the crook of your neck to brush kisses over your skin. “Let me eat you out,” he begs, but his voice is so silky and smooth that it doesn’t sound so much as a plea as much as it does a suggestion. He licks a stripe up your neck, and you jump in his hold.

It’s at this moment where the sudden realization hits you, the feeling of having the reins yanked out of your hands. You so vividly controlled every aspect of Jungkook just a few moments ago, when you’d had your own mouth on his neck, and carefully coaxed him into some sex.

But it seems Jeon Jungkook isn’t as soft or as pliable as you had dubbed him to be, and if the way he’s begun subtly rolling your hips into his crotch is any sign, he certainly wasn’t the submissive type either. Which leaves you wondering, exactly what type of person was Jungkook in bed?

Well, you had all night to figure that out.

“Hey,” he whines suddenly, ripping you out of your thoughts. You glance down at him, registering the bored set of his eyes and the unimpressed quirk of his lips. “Pay attention to me.”

You blink, lips twitching. You can barely muffle the giggle that tears itself from your throat, leaning your forehead on his shoulder as your body shakes at his suddenly childish words. Jungkook chuckles too, as if suddenly realizing how out of place his own statement was. “Sorry,” he smiles, cheeks pleasantly rosy and you can’t even stop yourself from kissing him silly.

Jungkook, bless his heart, let’s you rain down a good three kisses on him before he’s pushing you down on the couch beside him. There’s still a slight gleam in his eyes, but the rest of his face schools itself into a hungry expression as he drinks in your body laid out before him. “Let me eat you out?” He asks again, voice but a soft whisper.

You nod, heart beating loudly in your chest as he shuffles down until he can press a kiss to the tops of your thighs. He hasn’t even done anything that intense yet, but you already feel the muscles in your leg ready to spasm just from his proximity.

He’s mouthing at your skin, nudging your legs apart, and you, usually so confident in your sexuality, can’t find the courage to look at him as he so lovingly carries out his ministrations.

As if sensing your sudden bout of shyness (you! shy! Doyeon was gonna tease you about this for the rest of your life once you recapped this for her), he places a soft kiss just below where the hem of your dress begins, before pulling back and uttering, “this okay?”

You hum in response, face warm from just imagining how good he must look down there, peppering your skin with kisses. Your heart nearly rips itself out of your chest when a strong set of fingers wraps around your wrist suddenly, sliding over and around your hand until he’s tangled them with yours.

At this, you nearly break your neck trying to look at him, only to be met with an amused smile. Jungkook gives your hand a squeeze, and you barely get to appreciate the schoolgirl flood of emotions in your chest, when suddenly his free hand comes out of left field, cupping the back of your knee to push your legs further apart, before gliding across the expanse of your thigh to push your dress up.

If Jungkook holding your hand was enough to make your heart skip a beat, Jungkook pressing a chaste kiss to your panty-clad mound was enough to send you into cardiac arrest. Your leg twitches at the sudden touch, a gasp catching in your throat at the delicate path he kisses over your panties, until he’s flicking his tongue over your clit. “Oh,” you moan, and against your better judgment, your free hand is tangling itself in his silky strands.

Jungkook smirks, what sounds like a tiny chuckle muffled as he continues mouthing along your sex, until your panties are soaked both from your arousal and his saliva. Your little thong stares him in the face, and he groans at the sight, glancing up at you with those wide eyes of his like you’re his entire world. “Can I?”

Jungkook gives your clit one final kiss, before he lets go of your hand, and you can’t help the whine that leaves you upon the lost contact. Jungkook eats it up, pressing a kiss turned smile against your knee as he tugs your underwear down. It coils up as it goes, until he’s pulling a tightly twisted maroon thong off your ankles, and tossing it off somewhere behind him.

If his mouth felt good through your panties, it feels even better without. You mewl when he brushes his lips over your clit, plush lips working your sensitive bundle of nerves, sly tongue occasionally creeping out to toy with you further. “Jungkook,” you cry out, back arching. He licks and slurps likes he’s a starved man, and you're the first meal he’s ever had. You want to sob from how good it feels, his tongue flicking over your bud like he just can’t get enough.

He pulls away to catch your gaze, doesn’t let it go as he runs a lone finger over your slit, coating the digit in your own arousal, before carefully plunging it into your warm, wet heat. “Is this good?” He rasps out, watching your facial expressions carefully as he wiggles his finger deeper into your core, his other hand wrapped around your thigh to keep you still. You moan, feeling like a boneless heap of organs beneath this insanely handsome man who can’t keep his hands off your quivering pussy.

His fingers don’t let up, slowly pulling out before plunging back in. The room fills with disgustingly wet sounds, but that fact drifts to the back of your head the faster his fingers go. Your eyes roll into your head, your body twitching with each press of his fingers.

“Is it good, pretty?” He repeats, and since you’re not looking at him anymore, the sudden lick against your clit has your back arching and your thighs quivering with surprise. “Tell me it’s good, ___,” Jungkook croons, and you nod in a hurry.

“It’s good!” You cry, moaning loudly when he slips another finger into you, scissoring the two inside of you. “It’s so good, Jungkook—y-you’re so good,” you moan, and nearly cry actual tears when he curls his fingers inside of you, pressing down against the most sensitive spot within you.

Jungkook doesn’t let up, continues licking and slurping against your sensitive bud, even when your orgasm hits and you’re begging him to stop. He doesn’t let you go until he feels the warmth coat his fingers, feels the wetness begging to seep out of your plugged pussy. He lets you go then, only to move closer to your hole and replace his fingers with his mouth. There, he carefully catches and collects the cum that trickles out, mouth warm against your trembling body.

Your body quivers with each long drag of his tongue over your sensitive cunt, and you’re about to ask him to stop, when he finally pulls away and pushes himself over you, arms caging you in as he stares down at your withered form. “Kiss,” you manage to gasp out, and Jungkook raises an eyebrow in question. “Kiss me,” you repeat, and then, thoughtfully, “please.”

Jungkook complies, leans down to connect your mouths in a sweet kiss. You’re blinded by the delicacy of it all, that you in no way see coming the sudden substance that slides down your throat from his own. You choke at the sudden intrusion, belatedly realizing it’s your cum he’s pushing down your throat, the cum he didn’t swallow.

“That’s it, pretty,” Jungkook croons, licking up the residual come that hadn’t made it into your mouth. “See how you taste for me. Isn’t it sweet?” He murmurs, pushing his tongue into your mouth as if he regretted not saving any for himself. It’s the first time you’ve had your own pleasure in your mouth, so you’re not exactly sure how to feel. What you do feel is the overwhelming surge of arousal at seeing Jungkook rave about it and lap it up inside your own mouth.

He kisses you for a few moments, mouth moving languidly along yours. One hand reaches down to rub soothingly at your inner thigh, like he’s coaxing the feeling back into your body after lulling you into one of the most heavenly orgasms of your entire life. You whimper when he bites down on your lower lip, like you’re still too sensitive to reciprocate, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. He lets you go, licks over where he’d bitten like an apology.

After a few minutes of just this, of feeling like the most cherished girl in the entire world, Jungkook finally pulls away and levels you with a dashing smile. “All good?” He asks, hands still trailing up your waist until they’re framing the swell of your breasts, where he gently circles your nipple.

You nod, dazedly staring up at him and it’s at this exact moment that you realize there’s something stiff poking at your hip. You glance down, and Jungkook glances down with you, until you’re both staring at the hard on he’s hiding beneath his jeans. Jungkook chuckles, low and dark by your ear as he experimentally presses it against you.

Before you can stop yourself, your hand is untangling itself from around his shoulders and slithering down his front. You cup his erection, his shaky exhale giving you the courage to toy with his belt buckle until it’s undone and you're battling with the button on his jeans instead. You put up a good fight, but in the end the angle is too tight for you to properly undo it, and Jungkook brushes your hands away with a soft kiss to your lips.

He pushes himself off you, and you’re immediately craving the warm press of his body against yours the second he’s gone. “Get that dress off for me, pretty girl,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head, rendering you completely speechless as you gawk at his body. Jungkook glances down at you as he goes to undo his pants, a shapely brow raising in your direction and a soft quirk of his lips gesturing for you to do as you’re told.

You spur into action, wiggling the dress up and over your breasts until you’re pulling it over your head and letting it drop beside you on the floor. You’re just in time to see Jungkook push his jeans down his hips, a classic black Calvin Klein underwear band glaring back at you.

The chance to marvel at Jungkook’s thin waist framed by that tight underwear is gone as quickly as it came, and you’re greeted with an even more mouthwatering sight when he pushes the elastic band down, and that big cock you had alluded to springs out of its confines. You groan, subconsciously rolling your hips into the air as you take in the sight of his cock, mushroom tip swollen and flushed. There’s a thick vein that runs along the underside of it, one you only see when Jungkook grasps his dick in his hand and tugs upward like this isn’t his true form, and he can get bigger.

“Ready?” He asks, biting down on his lip as he continues to stroke himself. You nod, wiggling closer to him until the backs of your thighs rest on top of his, knees knocking against his waist. He grants you one more of those kind smiles, before he’s leaning down to press a hand beside your head, the other lining himself up with your soaked entrance.

Running his cock over your folds one last time, collecting as much of your cum as he can, he brushes a kiss against your cheekbone before he’s pushing in. You moan, throwing your hands around his neck as he pierces through the initial ring of muscle surrounding your warm heat. “Holy shit,” you choke, mouth dropped open as you pant like a dog against his shoulder. “J-Jungkook,” you cry, legs tightening around his waist the closer his body presses against yours.

Once he’s at the hilt, pelvis flush against you, you can’t help the series of whines and mewls that escape your lips from being so comfortably filled to the brim.

To your surprise, Jungkook is the first to speak. “Fuck,” he groans, breath hot against your ear. He sounds fucked out, once silky voice raspy with need as he grinds his hips against you tentatively. “This is what you wanted, isn't it?” He huffs, both hands coming down to wrap around your waist, your back arching under the wonderful hands that find themselves squeezing every inch of your back in an effort to pull you closer.

His mouth brushes against yours from this new position, and Jungkook puckers his lips, tongue coming out to lick at your bottom lip. You nearly cry when he finally pulls his hips away, relieves his cock from your tight heat before surging back in. “Wanted this from the moment you walked in, didn’t you, sweetheart?” Jungkook grunts, repeats the same motion until he’s picked up a steady pace of pushing and pulling, each roll of his hips sending a shock of ecstasy crawling up your spine.

You nod, eyes screwed shut as pleasure warms every inch of your body. It’s even worse to not see, because every sound and every touch is magnified tenfold, until you’re drowning in sensations. Jungkook’s choked groans, the slide of his hips, they all become too much too quickly and you’re choking back a sob.

“Fuck,” he groans, glancing down at your withered form like an animal as he picks up his pace. His hold on you tightens, never letting your body move away from him and he begins jack hammering in his thrusts, swallowing your cries with his lips. “Had me thinking you were a nice girl,” he huffs, and you wonder if he knows how tightly he’s holding you, how this grip will most likely leave you with fingerprint bruises tomorrow morning. But then again, you don’t care. All you care about is Jungkook’s voice and his body, guiding you toward completion. “But all you wanted was a quick fuck.”

You steel yourself to look at him again, and when your eyes finally open and focus, you’re wishing you hadn’t because Jungkook looks so hot over you. His pretty eyes, the ones that had led you into a false sense of comfort throughout the night and tricked you into believing he would be easy to bend to your every whim, are hard now. “Isn’t that right, doll?” He spits, and you whine when he punctuates this question with a particularly brutal thrust of his hips. His balls slap against your ass, and you squirm beneath him as you begin to feel the beginnings of an orgasm build in your core.

“I-I thought—“ you stammer, tone pitched from the way he jostles you with every thrust he gives. “Y-You wanted that,” you weekly defend, canting your hips down in a feeble attempt to progress this along.

He snorts, captures your lips in a rushed kiss where he wastes no time snaking his tongue inside your mouth. His saliva trickles into your mouth, and you whine as he purposefully lets it happen, pulls away just the slightest to pucker his lips and let a thick trail of spit fall straight into your open mouth. Satisfied with his little stunt, he rams his cock against you once more.

“If you wanted a quick fuck,” he says, nearly loses himself in your pussy, “you came to the wrong guy, sweetheart.”

You’re too caught up in the nice drag of his cock against your pussy, the tip of his cock stopping him from ever pulling out completely, that it takes you a second to process his words. “H-Huh?” You choke, teary eyes flickering across his face wildly as if the answer will be right in plain sight.

But all you’re met with is the soft pull of his lips as he flashes you a smirk, pearly white teeth tugging at the pink flesh, as he levels you with a glare of his own. Before you can question him further, he’s letting go of your waist to hike your knees into the crook of his elbows, his pouty lips growing further away as he leans back.

This shift has his cock nudging up, rubbing against the hood of your clit where a bundle of nerves he’d only briefly brushed before sits. You shriek in pleasure, writhing beneath him as the sudden sensation hits you full force. “Jungkook!” You sob, his hips slowing to a grind as he watches your face crumble beneath him.

“You like that?” He murmurs, rutting his hips against you shallowly. The change of pace, the rabid piston of his hips slowing to this, has your body melting into his touch. You barely manage a nod, eyes fluttering open and shut as his hips move sensually against you.

His cock brushes against that sensitive spot with each roll of his hips, and you’re a mewling, puddle of emotion by the third thrust. “Pretty girl,” he hums, letting go of one leg to place a hand above your mound, thumb circling your clit until you’re trembling beneath him. “Did you think I would fuck you and kick you out?” He husks, watching your body like he’s a lion and you’re his prey.

Your brain is far from comprehending anything at this point, reduced to a mere mass of nothingness as he continues moving against you, fingers rubbing your clit in all the right ways.

“Well, you were wrong about that, doll,” he huffs, and you’re blessed with the sight of his head lolling back as he loses himself in the tight grip of your pussy, skin glistening with sweat, trailing from behind his ear and over his neck, until you’re watching a pearl roll over his collarbones. “I don’t do that,” he informs you, and he pinches your clit between two fingers, hard enough that you almost miss his next words as you moan. “No, baby, I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he spits, and you whimper at his words. Finally, he lets go of your knees, right as you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm and you moan out in protest as he ducks down to cage you between his arms again.

“Please,” you beg, voice hoarse as his hips slowly return to their pace from before. He’s still not pulling out as much, keeping his thrusts shallow as he kisses a trail up your neck and over your jaw.

“Gonna fuck you so good, you don’t ever want to leave, pretty,” he says, kisses the corner of your mouth as his hips pick up pace. You wanna cry, feeling so warm and cherished in his arms, his voice telling you how good you’re doing as the coil in your stomach tightens and tightens until you’re begging him for more. “Do you want that?”

“Yes! Yes!” You sob, rolling your hips against his like a madman as you chase your high.

Jungkook hums, smile smushed against your lips as he watches you desperately writhing beneath him. “Yeah? You want that?” You nod, mewls swallowed by his kisses. “Then cum for me, pretty girl.”

You whimper, just as he bucks into you once more, and suddenly you’re falling apart. It starts in your lower back, the ecstasy climbing it’s way through your body until you’re quivering and sobbing in his embrace, muffling your sounds against his shoulder. The muscles in your entire body tighten painfully, until suddenly a wave of contentment washes over you, and you’re too weak to even hold onto him anymore, arms flopping back onto the couch cushions beneath you.

The whole time, Jungkook mutters encouragement against your jaw, keeps his thrusts short but quick, guiding you through your orgasm. When you’re done, he presses an open mouthed kiss beneath your ear, pulling away to look at your boneless frame beneath him.

A few pistons of his hips later, and Jungkook is coming inside of you, cum coating your walls as he hammers his way through his orgasm. He pulls out when he’s done, and you instantly feel your mixed arousal drip out between your thighs.

Woozy from the wine and the two orgasms, you fall asleep soon after.

——

“Good morning,” you murmur, standing at the doorway leading into the kitchen, an area you’d only been able to find after stumbling around the upstairs of the house in confusion.

Jungkook whirls around, wide eyes taking in your appearance. You clutch at the hem of the big t-shirt you’d pulled on, the only article of clothing you saw that was thrown over a chair in a bedroom you didn’t dare snoop around. “Morning,” he exhales, calculating gaze never leaving you as you tiptoe over to him by the counter.

He doesn’t say more, spluttering into action when you peek over his shoulder to see what he’s up to. “What’re you making?” You inquire, and his hands begin fidgeting with the knife.

“Oh, um,” he stutters, and perhaps he’s overly aware of your presence so close beside him, because he suddenly doesn’t remember how he’s supposed to cut an avocado. Cute, you think. “Just, um, toast with avocado spread…”

You hum. After a moment, it seems Jungkook is able to quell his nerves, and he carefully slices the avocado open, spreading its innards across the toast. He hands you the first piece, which you take after masking your own surprise, and soon after he’s turning away from the counter as the two of you eat in silence.

After a few thoughtful munches of bread, you speak. “Thanks for carrying me to bed,” you say, refusing to look at him.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, almost a little too fast and you barely bite down a grin as he rambles on. “Wasn’t gonna leave you on the couch, especially not when you were so tired after… ah, yeah.”

It’s the reserved way he carries himself that gives you the balls to look at him. His ears are flushed adorably red, like when you were at dinner last night talking about his job, and all you wanna do is pinch his cheeks. “Yeah,” you agree, and then add with an air of faux shyness, “you were really cool last night.”

It’s the little devil in you begging to jump out, curious to see how far you can push Jungkook before he shifts into that suave version of himself from last night, and you would feel bad had the corner of his lips not tilted up in amusement.

He chokes out a laugh, mutters a “yeah?” and you don’t stop yourself when you jump into his arms and kiss that avocado spread right off his lips.

——

On Tuesday afternoon, Kim Namjoon is in the midst of delivering another sermon-like speech on the importance of utilizing your student ID when visiting any of the Starbucks within a two mile radius of your school, when you spot a chestnut head of hair from the corner of your eye.

“Sorry, Joon! My ride's here!” You yelp, shoving your notebook into your bag as you stumble over yourself in your haste to leave.

Namjoon blinks. “Huh? I thought you lived on campus?”

You nod, that giddy feeling starting up in your chest as he comes closer to where you and Namjoon have taken up residence on a table in the commons for your weekly meeting, and by the time he reaches the table Namjoon is still in the midst of questioning you.

“Jungkook,” You say, all dreamily and dazed, and you know this because Doyeon caught you with this same exact look on your face after he dropped you off at the dorms Sunday afternoon.

Namjoon startles. “What the f—“

“Hi,” Jungkook beams, leans down to brush a kiss against your cheek, which only serves to make you even more ditzy and dumb in the face of this handsome man. “Oh, hey, hyung.”

“What’re you doi—“

“All set?” Jungkook asks you, completely ignoring whatever his beloved senior was saying in favor of taking your bag off your shoulders. You nod, have to swallow a giggle down when he takes your hand in his. “Bye, hyung.”

“Bye, Joon!” You barely remember to throw over your shoulder, too busy wrapping yourself around Jungkook’s arm to hear Namjoon blabber in shock.

“Kids these days,” he huffs.

[ part 2 ; hulu & woohoo ]

#jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #goldenclosetnet #ksmutclub #jjk smut #bts smut #mine

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garbagevanfleet · 3 years

Text

Brightest Blue (series)

PART THIRTEEN

Pairing: Josh x reader Warnings: light sexual content, feelings Summary: Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place.

Notes: SURPRISE! My depressed ass is back and I missed fawning over this fic. Thank you to everyone that stuck around. I love you guys.

Big thanks to my girlfriend and beta, @lantern-inthenight <3

taglist: @valleyd0ll @satingrass-maidensfair @guitarfingers @thebohemianpenguin @peaceisouranthem @oblvions @hansonobsessed @myownparadise96 @anditsmywholeheart @kill-fear-the-power-of-lies @bigblack-catattack

MASTERPOST

When you woke the next morning, it was to the sound of a muffled melody. The room was cast in a fiery orange glow as the rising sun peeked in through the window. You sat up in bed, straining your ears to listen.

Noticeably missing, was Josh - the side of the bed he had been sleeping on was turned down, but you placed your hand on the sheets to find them cold.

The chill on the hardwood made your toes curl as you padded across it, first to your bedroom to pull on a pair of sweatpants, and then back to Josh’s room to slip one of his sweatshirts over your bare chest.

Once you were no longer naked, and a little more awake, you quickly figured out that the music was coming from under the closed bathroom door, and you stopped in front of it to have a listen.

The sound of Josh’s voice carried well into the hall, though he was keeping it quiet, probably for your benefit.

You placed your fingers over your mouth absently as you listened to the notes rise to a lovely height and then dip down again. You couldn’t quite make out the words, but you didn’t need to.

It shocked you enough to make you flinch when he opened the bathroom door abruptly - you had figured he was just taking a pause in the song.

When he spotted you, he jumped back, letting a curse fall from his lips. “God, I didn’t think you’d be awake yet - you almost gave me a heart attack,” he blurted through an exasperated smile.

“I’ve never heard you sing before,” you said, just above a whisper in the quiet space. “Your voice is so lovely.”

He looked you up and down for a second, his face turning peachy. “I haven’t wanted to for a while. Outside of school, anyway.”

You let a smile find your lips at the implication of his words, and it fell silent between you again. He was standing, posture unsure as he, undoubtedly, tried to gauge whether everything was still okay after last night.

The temptation to touch him was too much, especially once you realized he probably needed all the reassurance you could give. His skin was warm as you reached out and ran your fingertips lightly over the pink skin on his cheek. He careened into your touch, turning his head just enough to press a kiss into the meaty part of your thumb. The gesture made your chest feel tight.

“Come back to bed,” you suggested through a whisper and watched him suck his bottom lip into his mouth, teeth visibly pressing into the plush skin.

“I can’t,” he replied breathily as you took his chin between your thumb and forefinger. “I don’t have the time.”

You nodded back at him with a teasing smile. “Sure you do.”

“Don’t tempt me, babe,” he pleaded from low in his chest. “I have a show at noon.”

You breathed a laugh, threading your fingers through his hair. “Call me that again,” you said against his ear. It was you dragging your teeth over his earring that made him groan.

“Please - for the love of god - keep this energy for when I get back tonight.”

You hummed, pressing a kiss to the peak of his cheekbone. “Okay. Can I help?”

“Oh, yeah, for sure. Just wait for me here - it’ll probably help save time if you’re naked ahead of time-”

You smacked his shoulder, pulling a delighted laugh from his chest - always excited to say something stupid. “With the show.”

“If you’d like to, I’d love to have you. But you’re going to have to hustle and get dressed,” he instructed.

You scoffed. “Not the noon show-” You turned back towards his room and looked back over your shoulder. “No, right now I’m going back to bed.”

+++

You hadn’t put any thought at all into what you’d wear for the other two shows you’d be attending - you knew you could recycle the dress once on Sunday if you paired it with something else, but for Saturday evening’s show, you were stuck crawling to the only other person you knew whose clothes would fit you.

This time when you approached Kate’s house, you had come prepared with a milk-bone, which was good, because it was her huge dog that greeted you. When he stood up on his hind legs, he was able to look directly into your eyes through the glass on the door, his tail wagging.

You watched Kate round the corner into the entrance hall, wearing a knee-length black robe, the silk shining as she moved in the sunlight. She gave you a puzzled look, cracking the door.

“Sorry to show up unannounced,” you said with an insincere smile. “Can I give your dog a treat?”

She laughed at you, opening the door the whole way and letting you slip in.

“I’m going to assume that you’re not just here to make Yeti fat.” Her voice sounded a bit too knowing for your taste.

“You’re right! I’m also here to raid your closet, if you’ll let me,” you replied. “I need an outfit for the show tonight.”

She started down the hall and towards her room, ushering for you to follow. “You’re going again?”

You nodded, though she wasn’t looking directly at you. “Yeah, of course.”

When you got into her room, you sat on her bed, and you absolutely wouldn’t have noticed Jake if Yeti hadn’t instantly trotted over to him to sit by his feet. He was sitting at a little circular cafe-style table in the corner of her room, a mug of something hot in front of him.

You glanced over at him and were met with a cheeky little smirk.

“You - uh. Yeah, I’m going to help with the show tonight,” you said after you decided you weren’t ready to address that situation yet.

“Ah,” she started, and though she was facing away from you into the closet, you could hear a matching smirk through her voice. “I really only have clothes that match my style, which I would define as ‘mildly tramp’.”

You hummed contemplatively. “Let’s start with the most professional ensemble and then work our way back. Maybe something you’d wear to a wedding?”

“You don’t want something I’d wear to a wedding,” she teased but pulled out a few garments all the same.

“So, uhm. Am I interrupting something?” you finally chanced, sneaking a glance back at Jake.

“Not at all,” Kate replied, unhelpfully. “Now go try some of these on and tell me what you think.”

In the end, the only thing she owned that you deemed acceptable - and also even remotely your style was a thigh-length, black dress - form-fitting.

You stared at it dubiously in the mirror.

You’d have to put a coat over it, but you thought you could make it work.

“Are we going to talk?” Kate asked, a little smirk playing on her lips as she held her nails out to inspect them. They were unpainted but perfectly manicured.

You chanced a glance over at Jake - who was now sitting on the floor with Yeti nearly in his lap. He was working his fingers through the thick, white fur as he met your eyes.

“Yeah, let’s talk about it,” he agreed, flashing you his teeth.

Luckily enough, you found the moment more humorous than embarrassing, so you just scratched absentmindedly at the back of your neck.

“Well,” you started and then paused as you tried to figure out how much was appropriate to disclose. “I’m going to his show again tonight. And tomorrow.”

Kate huffed, feigning impatience. “Yeah, okay, but that doesn’t tell me anything because you’d do that anyway.”

You gave her a playful shrug. “That’s all I got for you right now. But I’ll tell you all about it when I’ve processed everything.”

“Ooh, shit. That sounds juicy.” Her eyes lit up as she spoke, making you chuckle. You turned your attention to Jake again then.

“And I’m sure you’ll hear all about it,” You flicked your eyes back over to Kate in an accusatory look. “One way or another.”

+++

That night you sat in the audience alone - well, not alone, but without Kate or Jake. Most of the seats were filled again, at least partially with faces you remembered seeing the night before.

The show was just as fun and entertaining as the last, except this time, when Josh walked out onto the stage at the end, he met your eyes for a moment, letting them linger before tugging a couple of his kids into a side hug and smiling wide for all the parents.

As soon as most people had dissipated, he met you at your seat, but before he could even open his mouth to greet you, a parent of one of the kids was shaking his hand. The dad poured his praises, thanking Josh for working with his daughter - you guessed maybe it was Alice, but you had nothing to base that guess on. Josh handled it effortlessly, charming as ever.

By the time the parent had left you, you and Josh were some of the last people still lingering.

“I’ve gotta grab my stuff backstage,” he informed you, tiling his jaw up in that general direction. “Wanna come?”

With a smile, you nodded an agreement and let him offer you a hand as you made your way out of the tight seats.

Backstage was infinitely more chaotic than it was when you’d last seen it. Set pieces were strewn about - not unorganized, but everywhere. You had to weave through them to get to where his backpack was propped against a folding table, costume accessories spilling off the surface of it.

“Do you want me to help clean up back here?” you asked, eyeing the messes. He hummed through a smile.

“Nah, I’ve got a system,” he informed you, and then after you gave him a doubtful look, he added, “Seriously. And until you’re directing a cast of children in a play that you produced, I don’t want to hear your objections.”

His teasing tone made you bite back a grin. “It’s amazing - really. I’m just offering my help.”

The backpack looked heavy as he slung it over his shoulder, holding the strap across his chest with both hands. “Then take me home,” he requested playfully, flicking his eyes to the back exit.

“Happily.”

+++

On Sunday, after the very last matinee show, you spent an hour helping him sort all the costumes - every tiny piece in a garment bag and labeled accordingly. The rest, he insisted, he would work on during school hours the following day.

You suddenly wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a hug, resting your temple on his shoulder and taking a moment to relish in the fact that you’d taken him by surprise.

“I want to take you out tonight - a congratulations of sorts,” you said as you leaned back far enough to see his cheeks flush a flattering peachy color.

“Really?”

“Only if you want to.” You paired your sentence with a casual shrug.

He flashed you a pleased smile. “Of course I want to. I’d love that,” he agreed.

You let him pick the place, and in the end, he landed on a hole-in-the-wall diner that he swore was the absolute best place to get pancakes in the middle of the night. Even though it was close to nine, you both sipped on coffee as you waited for your order.

“I can’t believe it’s over,” he said as you watched his fingers idly rub across the ceramic mug in his hands. “There was so much lead-up and drama that it feels weird for it all to be behind me.”

“It was really incredible, Josh. I honestly can’t believe that you pulled it off with all that went wrong.”

He looked up at you through his fan of lashes. He looked tired, but not uncomfortably so - just enough that you knew he worked his ass off.

“We pulled it off. I could have never done it without you,” he stated, charmingly earnest as always.

You huffed a humorless laugh. “That’s not true - If I hadn’t moved in, you’d never have lost your assistant in the first place.”

His expression melted away until his face was blank. “I-”

He paused, visibly trying to figure out how he wanted to word the next line out of his mouth. “That wasn’t your fault. I didn’t really know what was happening until it was too late to change it.”

“I know, I just. I’m happy that it ended up this way, I just wish it hadn’t almost derailed your whole production.” You could feel your features slip into something mournful, making him frown.

He was quiet for a moment before speaking again. “How do you even know about that?”

You hummed. “Kate told me. Jake told her.”

He glared off into the distance, but on him, the look was completely unthreatening. It was so out of place that it made you giggle.

“I’m not sure I like how close they are,” he grumbled through a smile he couldn’t hold back.

“Yeah, I hear you. I went to her house this morning to rummage for this dress-”

He cut you off, eyes raking over your form. “You look amazing, by the way.”

You gave him a pointed look and a little eye roll, though you had to admit you were flattered.

“Yes, well, Jake was at her house this morning. Petting her dog.”

His eyebrows lifted, lashes blinking a few times in surprise. After a moment, he cleared his throat and spoke again. “Well. I suppose you got what you wanted then, right?”

The irritation that was evident on your features was unwarranted - you knew that in your heart, but it didn’t stop you from letting out a childish huff.

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you and I would be-”

You cut yourself off just as his eyes flicked up at you over the rim of his mug.

“You and I would be what?” he asked coyly. You took a moment to admire the fact that his cheeks and the bridge of his nose were still a bit tanned despite it now being well into winter. A little like a bronze statue.

“I didn’t think you and I would be...a thing,” you finished simply, keeping your tone light.

He quirked an eyebrow at you, all too suspicious for your liking. “No?”

A puzzled look flashed across your face. “No,” you agreed. “Why? What does that mean?”

He took a too-long sip of coffee, holding your eyes just to fuck with you - you were sure. He cheekily bit his bottom lip as he figured out how to word what he wanted to say. “Nothing really,” he assured, though you were unconvinced.

You were going to press the topic further, but your thought was cut short when the server showed up with a tray of your food and another carafe of hot coffee. He made light conversation with Josh as he filled both of your mugs near to the brim, and you watched the steam rise off of it as you pondered which flavored syrup you’d drown your pancakes in.

The sound of the little metal cup of creamer being slid across the tabletop toward you got your attention, and your eyes lingered on Josh’s hand as his fingers brushed past yours.

“Cream, babe?” he inquired, though he was well aware of exactly how you took your coffee.

Your heart skipped a beat as you processed what he’d said. That was the second time he’d called you that in the months you’d known him, and it had the same effect on you this time that it had the last time. You met his eyes, catching his fingers with yours for just a brief second, forcing a mischievous smile to his lips.

You poured a bit of cream into your coffee and stirred it until it was a medium brown.

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” you asked fondly and watched him bite his bottom lip absently to try and keep his smile from stretching into a grin.

“Help myself from what?” His tone was cheeky, informing you that he knew exactly what you were talking about. It was evident that the two of you were playing a game now - something light and coy. You paused to take a bite or two of your food, happy enough to leave him in suspense for a moment longer.

“Calling me that.”

He hummed, low in his throat. “Is that not alright?”

“Doesn’t it seem a bit out of place?” You watched as he reached across the table to stab at a piece of your pancake, bringing it to his mouth and chewing it before giving his answer.

“Why would it? Are we not on a date right now?”

A look of genuine shock flashed across your features. Not caring how rude it was, you asked through a mouth full of food, “Are we?”

There was a long pause in the conversation as he ate, and you wondered for a moment if you had upset him until he looked back up at you. He was biting back a smile as he leaned back in his seat.

“Back before the musical, you were complaining about the cold - do you remember?”

You frowned in concentration as you searched your brain. “Which time? I pretty frequently complain about the temperature here.”

He breathed a laugh. “Yeah, you do. I thought you were going to freeze to death at first. But there was something you said that glued itself to my frontal lobe.”

You gave him a questioning look, prompting him to continue.

“You said, ‘if we move away from here, can we move somewhere warm?’.” He just held your eyes for a moment as your heart beat suddenly inched toward erratic. “We.”

You took a deep breath, suddenly feeling a little jittery and took another bite of pancake before you could say something truly stupid.

After a moment of silence to let you process, he spoke again. “So, I think maybe you knew we would end up being a ‘thing’, right?”

“I don’t know a whole lot, Josh,” you admitted, reaching out and placing your hand on his and lightly running your fingers over his skin. “But, I do know that since the moment I met you, I wanted to be close with you. You’re magnetic. I truly think you could have anyone you wanted if they listened to you talk - just once.”

Despite having been the one to start the whole conversation, a peachy pink tint surfaced across his cheeks and nose at the compliment.

Clearly not interested in continuing such an intimate conversation at a busy diner, he placed his palm flat on the table and asked, “Are you ready to get out of here? I think if I drink any more coffee my heart might give out.”

“You could just switch to decaf,” you suggested, smirking at him as he squinted back at you like you had personally insulted him.

He stood and leaned across the table until his face was only six inches or so from yours. “I’d rather die, thank you.”

#brightest blue fic #Greta Van Fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #josh x reader #joshxreader #josh kiszka

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heyiwrotesomethings · 3 years

Text

Fresh Starts

Leah (Stardew) x Selectively Mute She/Her Reader

A/N: Thought I’d try something different with this one. Sorry if I didn’t detail the instances of sign language very well, or if they are a little off, I did try. Also Kel is an asshol in this when they show up so get ready for that. Robin is cool mom and Abigail is the friend who is always ready to fight at the drop of a hat. Also, time is so weird in Stardew? There are four season in a year but each season is like a month so a year is like four months. Time is scary. I hope you like it! Word Count: 8,943

“So, someone has finally taken up that old farmland,” Leah heard Gus say to Harvey as he fixed the good doctor a drink at the bar, “‘Heard Lewis and Robin talking about it outside of Pierre’s yesterday.”

“Is that so?” Harvey was tired from a long day at the clinic, but being ever polite, he humored Gus and rested fully against the bar stool.

“Mhmm, looks like the old man’s kin is finally gonna make something of it. A few years late though I must say, that place is well overgrown. It’s gonna take a lot more than a little elbow grease to spruce up that dump,” Gus chuckled good naturedly and handed Harvey his beer, “I wish them luck, whoever they are.”

“Bah!” Leah jumped in her seat tucked away in the corner. Pam must have been listening in too. “If they’re smart they’ll just sell the heap of trash to Joja. M’sure they’d get a pretty penny for it.” Pam spoke bitterly. Shane, who was also quite drunk at this point in the night, took the opportunity to add his two cents in and yell across the bar.

“Why would they get your daughter for selling out to Joja?”

“That’s not what I meant, dumbass!” Pam roared back, slamming her beer on the table with a loud thump.

Leah decided she’d call it a night then. Without Elliott to crack jokes with, the saloon could get real depressing real fast with Shane and Pam racing each other to see who would get alcohol poisoning first. Even Clint was just sad to watch. The poor man sitting hopefully, waiting for Emily to even just turn in his direction. Leah finished the rest of her beer and paid Gus, giving the man a sympathetic smile as he left to cut Shane off.

Leah shivered in the cool spring breeze as she walked along the river bank to her cottage and her thoughts wandered back to what Gus had been gossiping about.

“A new face around Stardew Valley, hm?” Leah mused, kicking a stray pebble in her path, watching it skip across the cobbled stone. “I guess I won’t be the town newbie anymore.” She smiled and turned to look in the direction of Marnie’s home, knowing that the farm was somewhere just beyond. As Leah turned the key to unlock the door of her small cottage, she wondered what changes this new resident might bring.

***

“Have you met our new resident farmer yet?” Leah heard Caroline ask Jodi as she walked across the town square.

“I suppose you could call it that,” Jodi laughed, “It was a very brief meeting to say the least.”

“I’m glad I wasn’t the only one then,” Caroline sighed, putting a hand to her chest in relief, “I thought I had offended the girl somehow, she never said a word. She just walked into the shop and pointed to a few seeds she wanted to buy, then she handed Abigail, Pierre and I daffodils and went on her way. Not so much as a sound.” Caroline explained, still bewildered by the interaction.

“Sounds about right,” Jodi nodded, “She knocked on the front door and handed me a single clam. Which was nice I suppose, but so very odd. She gave Vincent a daffodil too,” Jodi smiled, “He was very pleased. I’m sure she would have given Sam something as well if he could wake up at a more reasonable time.”

“Oh, Leah! Good morning!” Caroline had caught her. Leah put on her most sociable smile and walked forward, greeting the two women.

“Good morning Caroline, Jodi.”

“Have you been visited by the farm fairy yet?” Jodi asked, chuckling along with Caroline.

“I’m afraid not.” Leah admitted. “Although Elliott says I am a bit difficult to track down at the best of times.” She laughed good naturedly.

“Well, I’m sure she’ll get you sooner or later. She seems to be on a mission to greet the whole town. If you can call it a greeting I suppose. I don’t even know her name.” Caroline realized.

“It’s (Y/n).”

The three women jumped and turned to a grinning Robin, walking up to them with her yoga mat swaddled under her arm.

“Her name is (Y/n). She’s quite the character, huh?”

“Robin, you helped Mayor Lewis move her in didn’t you? What can you tell us?” Jodi asked, looking for any crumb of information she could get on the mysterious girl.

“Not much to tell,” Robin shrugged, “Just a sweet kid wanting to get away from the pressures of the big city,” she sent a knowing look at Leah, “Sounds like someone else I know.”

Leah laughed politely, twisting a finger around the tail end of her braid as blush settled in her cheeks faintly.

“But why is she so... you know, quiet?” Caroline asked.

“Hm, well, she did give me her blessing to explain should it come up.” Robin took a moment to think of how to proceed, absently tapping her fingers against her mat. “(Y/n) is selectively mute. She has the ability to speak, but she’s just not comfortable enough to do so at this time. This move was a big decision for her, and she’s excited, but it’s just gonna take some time before she feels secure enough to communicate orally.”

“And how did you get all this information out of her?” Caroline wondered.

Robin secured her yoga mat between her thighs and presented both hands, pointing her index fingers outward and drew a couple large circles in the air with the tips of her extended fingers. “Sign language!” Robin grinned, before taking a hold of her mat once more.

“Oh how clever!” Jodi praised. “I wish I understood sign language.”

“I’d be happy to show you a few of the basics sometime. If you really need to ask (Y/n) something though she will have no problem writing out answers for you.” Robin informed. “Now, are we working out today or...”

“I completely forgot!” Caroline smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand, “Yes, let’s go. Poor Marnie is probably wondering where we are. Are you going to join us Leah?”

“I’ll pass, thanks. I’m heading to the beach to do some painting,” Leah explained, motioning to her bag.

“Alright, see you around!” Caroline, Jodi and Robin bid Leah goodbye and hurried to the general store.

Leah sighed, as much as she liked the people in this town they were so chatty. She could have been at the beach forever ago! Once she arrived, she saw Haley sunbathing. Not unusual, but as she kept walking closer to shore she saw Elliott splayed out over the sand laying on his stomach.

Leah rolled her eyes and walked over, playfully kicking the man’s arm, causing him to squint up at her.

“Is there some kind of new writing exercise I should know about?” She asked, playfully.

“I wish, this is simply writer’s block at its finest.” Elliott groaned. “That, and I don’t know what I’m going to do with this,” he sat up and produced a wild horseradish from his jacket pocket.

“Why do you have a horseradish in your pocket?”

“A girl I’ve never seen before in my life gave it to me. Then she took off before I could refuse. Didn’t even say a word.”

“She’s totally weird, but she did give me a daffodil so I guess she’s not that bad.” Haley called from her own spot in the sand.

“Has everyone met the new girl except me?” Leah wondered aloud.

“She’s been making rounds. I’m sure she’ll find you eventually.” Elliott said, resting his chin over his arms.

“You make her sound so ominous.” Leah laughed, lowering herself to the sand and taking out a sketch pad.

“A silent specter. A harbinger of-“

“Oh can it, drama queen,” Leah smirked, “so she gave you a horseradish, it’s not the end of the world. She was just trying to be nice.”

Elliott pursed his lips, propping his head up with one hand he turned the horseradish in the other offering it to Leah. “Do you want it? You’re all about foraging.”

“I mean, if you’re not going to use it sure. Put it in my bag.” Leah relented easily. Her eyes only leaving her paper to study the horizon for a moment, then continue to sketch.

Leah stayed on the beach with Elliott for a couple of hours, talking sketching, and painting. Finally she stood and stretched, patting the sand off the back of her jeans. “I should get going. See you around.”

“See you.” Elliott nodded, splitting off from Leah to head over to his shack.

Leah hummed to herself as she walked through town, making her way past Jodi’s house and entered the Cindersnap Forest. As she rounded the corner of her cottage, she paused in her tracks. Observing a young woman staring at her door with dandelions in one hand and her other poised to knock on the weathered wood.

Leah flinched slightly, she had stepped on a twig, snapping it and alerting her visitor of her presence.

Startled eyes met Leah’s own and the farmer straightened from her previous position, stepping back from Leah’s door.

She smiled shyly, giving Leah a short, jaunty wave before gesturing between Leah and the cottage a moment. Then she stood still. An expectant look on her face.

Leah simply stared back, blinking before she registered the silent question. “Oh! Yes, I live here. That’s my house. You’re (Y/n), right? Robin told me about you, I’m Leah.” She smiled kindly, coming forward to offer (Y/n) her hand to shake.

Instead of grasping Leah’s hand, (Y/n) cupped it with her gloved hands, turning Leah’s hand palm up and placing the dandelions inside.

“Ah, thank you.” Leah chuckled, “These will make a great salad.”

(Y/n) nodded vigorously, then moved to make her exit. Leah wasn’t sure what possessed her, but she called out to (Y/n) before she could get too far.

“Wait, I um, it’s not much but I did take an intro to ASL course my freshman year of college so, I’m a bit limited but if you ever want to talk, you know...” Leah wished she could stop talking right now. Why had no one told her that the farmer was cute!? “So, yeah, you know,” Leah fumbled with her free hand, her fingers sat just underneath her chin before she sent them forward, “Thanks again.” She smiled nervously.

(Y/n) stared at her, dumbfounded. Then she released a short, sharp exhalation of air that was reminiscent of stuttered laughter and turned back to stand before Leah. (Y/n) made a timid approach and gingerly took Leah’s wrist, still hovering midair, and guided the hand back to rest on Leah’s chin, just below her lip. Leah stood still as stone as (Y/n) held it there for a second then extended the hand forward. She repeated the motion twice more before backing away and releasing Leah from her gloved grasp. The smell of earth and grass still clung to Leah’s nose even after (Y/n) had stepped back.

“Oh, I did it wrong, didn’t I?” Leah blushed, “Is there a big difference between the two?”

(Y/n) blew out a large breath of air and nodded. One of her gloved hands came up to cover the amused smile fighting against her lips.

“What did I say? Was is embarrassing? Yoba, I need to know,” Leah carefully set the dandelions at her feet and rummaged through her bag. Taking out her sketch pad and a pencil, she flipped to a clean page and presented the materials into the rough fabric of (Y/n)’s gloved hands, “Please, tell me.”

(Y/n) shot Leah a sympathetic smile, then she looked down at the paper and wrote quickly and concisely. She looked over her work, nodded to herself, then she handed the sketch book and pencil back to Leah before jogging of in the direction of her farm.

“Eh- Hey! Wait a minute!” Leah took a few strides after the farmer but quickly gave up, electing to look at the paper in her hand instead. “Maybe I’ll tell you some other time. Nice meeting you Leah, smiley face.” Leah read aloud to herself. She scoffed, but couldn’t stop the smile that had conquered her lips. She couldn’t wait to see (Y/n) again.

***

“Hey, Maru-“

“I think I have a feeling about what this is about, but just in case, please proceed.”

The next morning, Leah had made her way to the clinic to visit Maru and perhaps get the answers she was looking for. She had made the trek to (Y/n)’s farm first, but she wasn’t there. A little note hastily taped to the farmer’s door revealed that she was spending the day fishing in the mountains and wouldn’t be back until late at night.

“Maru, you know sign language like your mom, right?” Leah asked.

“Sure do. Seb and dad do too.” Maru nodded, leaning over the clinic counter. “But I’ve got to tell you that if you’re looking for the meaning of what you accidentally signed to (Y/n) last night, we were sworn to silence earlier this morning before (Y/n) went fishing. Sorry.” Maru smiled.

“Ugh,” Leah sighed, leaning her forehead against the counter. “Can I at least have a hint?”

“Well, it’s really funny. Especially considering how chill you normally are and your kind disposition.”

“Yoba, I really need to know!” Leah groaned against the counter.

“Well my family can’t tell you. You’ll just have to wait to hear it from (Y/n),” Maru grinned and pushed away from the counter, “I have to prepare for Evelyn’s check up now so I’ll see you around Leah.”

“Yeah, bye.” Leah grumbled, watching Maru disappear into the back offices. “Well, there goes that plan.” She mumbled under her breath as she left the clinic.

Leah spent the rest of the day sculpting in her cottage. She spent hours getting lost in the chipping of the wood before finally going to bed.

***

It had been days since Leah last saw (Y/n) and if the farming life wasn’t so demanding, Leah would have been worried that she had deeply offended the farmer to the point that she was purposely avoiding her. Leah decided not to waste the time she had been presented with.

She approached Robin about sign language lessons, enough to get some basic phrases and words. She practiced the motions herself, perfecting them to allow for no mistakes. Although she knew (Y/n) could hear her just fine, she found it easier to retain the lessons this way. Not to mention that it was just a useful language to know.

“I’ve hardly seen you around. I was worried you stabbed yourself with your woodworking tools.” Elliott said as Leah came up to sit next to him in the saloon.

“And you didn’t think to come to check on me?” Leah looked at the writer incredulously.

“Nope.”

Leah punched Elliott’s arm and he laughed. Before long, Emily came by with their food and they ate comfortably.

“Would you look at that.” Elliot spoke, pointing in direction of the door as he swallowed another bite.

Leah turned to look, purple irises sparkling at the sight of (Y/n) lugging a large bag up to the bar. She watched Emily talk (Y/n)’s ear off, the poor farmer smiled uncomfortably while trying to divide her attention between her and Gus who had apparently requested a variety of fish.

“Wow, Robin said you were in trouble but you really are,” Elliott chuckled behind his beer, “You really lit up just now.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Leah scoffed, still watching (Y/n) hand Gus fish after fish. It was almost comical how such an objectively small bag could hold so much.

“You can’t keep your eyes off her. I realize the dating pool in Stardew is small, but the girl just got here.”

“Elliott, stop!” Leah blushed, looking back down at her plate to stab at her salad.

“I’m just saying, you’re already taking sign language lessons for her you might want to dial it back a little bit. You wouldn’t want to come off as the obsessive type.”

“Oh! She’s leaving, should I offer to walk her home? I’m going to offer to walk her home.” Leah dug in her pocket and pulled out some gold, pushing it over to Elliott.

“What did I just say?” Elliott called after Leah, as she eagerly jogged to the exit to catch (Y/n) walking in the direction of the Cindersaps, perfect!

“(Y/n), good evening!” Leah called jogging up to the farmer only to have the farmer gasp and take several steps away from Leah, holding her hands out as a warning to not come any closer. “I’m sorry, I’m didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable!” Leah gasped, maybe Elliott was right.

(Y/n) shook her head, slowly taking a step back towards Leah, presenting her slightly soggy bag and waving her hand in front of her nose, scrunching her face as she did so.

Leah was sure the movement wasn’t an official ASL sign, but it did help get the point across and she giggled.

“What? Do you think you smell?”

Another nod and a look that seemed to say that she didn’t just think so, she knew so. She had been in the mines all morning and fishing at the beach all afternoon. She couldn’t wait to take a shower.

“It’s alright, I won’t judge you,” Leah smiled, “Are you heading home for the night? I’d be happy to walk with you since it’s so dark.”

(Y/n) took a moment to think about it before nodding shyly and motioning Leah closer. Leah happily obliged walking alongside the farmer into the Cindersap Forest. The walk was mostly silent, but that was to be expected nonetheless, Leah was having a great time. They had even found a couple of leeks along the way which (Y/n) had insisted Leah keep. All too soon, they reached the porch of the old farmhouse.

“You’re crops look great,” Leah complimented, looking for an excuse to stay even just a few minutes more, “really healthy. What all have you been growing? Are those potatoes and turnips?”

(Y/n) looked over her shoulder as she unlocked her door. Her eyes focused on where Leah was pointing and nodded affirmingly.

“Yeah, I’m no farmer but I love foraging. I’ve got a few really good books about wild foods and where to find them and when. It’s kind of like a scavenger hunt.” Leah grinned.

“Mhmm.”

It was quiet, a little strained, but the small hum of agreement almost sent Leah into cardiac arrest. She sounded so sweet! Leah’s cheeks were starting to hurt from how widely she was smiling.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it then. So, I’ll see you around?”

(Y/n) looked like she wanted to say something, but settled for a simple nod, fiddling with the gardening gloves she had taken off. Leah smiled softly, watching how the farmer intently eyed the fabric twisting in her hands.

“Feel free to drop by the cottage whenever it suits you. I’ll leave the door open!” Leah added, waving over her shoulder as she turned to walk away. (Y/n) beamed, looking a bit more lively as she waved back.

Leah turned her back on the house and walked back to her cottage in the Cindersaps with a skip in her step and a painfully large smile on her face. Although it was already late, she prepared a new block of wood for sculpting. Her new muse had granted her a vision for a grand project and had the potential to be one of her greatest works yet.

***

“Kel, I told you to stop calling me. I’m not coming back to the city, we are through.” Leah frowned, her hand gripped the phone receiver so tightly that she could hear the plastic giving slightly under the pressure.

She was so focused on combating Kel’s useless bargains that she hadn’t noticed the timid farmer show herself in, looking at Leah’s tense shoulders and back with concern. (Y/n) flinched as Leah cut off Kel to speak again, her voice low and stern.

“There is nothing you could say, nothing you could offer me, that would make me come back. Move on, and please, for the last time, do not call me again.” Leah slammed the phone down on its perch. Pressing her palms into her eyes she let out a frustrated groan, slowly positioning her hands to rub at her temples to combat the headache she felt coming on.

Then she heard the door creak.

Leah quickly turned around just in time to see (Y/n) looking back at her with wide eyes and lips pursed thin as if she had been caught witnessing an event she had no business seeing. Which was partially true, but Leah had told her a week beforehand that she could drop by anytime.

“(Y/n), what a pleasant surprise!” Leah grimaced, watching (Y/n) flinch and look down sheepishly at her feet. One had managed to retreat back out the door before being caught and it was slowly joined by the intruding foot, so (Y/n) was fully outside again. Leah shook her head and calmly approached the farmer.

“Please don’t leave, I’m the one who told you to come let yourself in whenever. I’m sorry you had to hear all of that.” Leah was worried, watching (Y/n) linger in the doorway. Her shoulders relaxed when (Y/n) cautiously came back inside and closed the door behind her.

(Y/n) stood in the entryway and looked over Leah, her eyes filled heavily with concern. She raised a hand, pointing to Leah before signing the letters ‘o’ and ‘k’.

“I’m okay. I’m just,” Leah fumbled for the right words, “mad, sad? Exhausted.”

(Y/n) made another gesture, shaping her fingers into a ‘hang loose’-esque sign. Her curled fingers meeting her chin. She lowered the hand momentarily to give it a controlled shake before bringing it back up into the starting position.

“What’s wrong?” Leah mumbled, making sure she understood. (Y/n) nodded. “I just got a phone call from someone I didn’t want to talk to is all,” Leah sighed, “They’re an ex of mine. The person who called.” Leah disclosed, rubbing the back of her neck, agitated.

(Y/n) signed again, but Leah didn’t quite catch it that time so she motioned (Y/n) over to her dining nook and sat her down with some paper and a pencil. The farmer seemed a bit unwilling to write it out, feeling like it was more insensitive somehow but with a little prodding from Leah, she gave in.

“Was it a bad break up...” Leah read aloud. She sat back in her chair and carefully chose her words. “Sometimes it feels like we’re still breaking up,” Leah chuckled wryly, “Kel, my ex, didn’t like me perusing art. They didn’t think I could make a living out of it and wanted me to waste away at some office job and well, I didn’t want that. They weren’t respectful or supportive of my dreams, so I left. They call me a lot though, to try to convince me to come back to the city... that I won’t make it as an artist. That I can’t be happy without them. It really is exhausting and the worst part is, I worry that they’re right.” Leah released a shuddering breath, “I haven’t sold a single piece. I don’t really even know how to start. I can sustain myself on what I have in my savings account for only so long.”

(Y/n) covered Leah’s hand with her own, squeezing it. Leah marveled at how soft it was in comparison to her own, especially since it was the hand of a farmer. Perhaps the gloves (Y/n) always wore had more practical uses rather than simply being worn for aesthetic’s sake. Leah chanced a look at (Y/n)’s face and was caught off guard by the determined fire blazing in her eyes. Then Leah’s attention was brought back to the table as (Y/n) furiously scratched the pencil against the paper and forcefully pushed her newly composed message in front of the sculptor, her other hand still rooted over Leah’s.

Leah read over the note and felt her heart ache with appreciative warmth. ‘You were brave enough to know what you wanted and even though it wasn’t easy, you went for it. That in itself is an amazing accomplishment that you should not take lightly. Your dream is not unfounded either, I’ve seen some of your sketches and paintings and I think you are very talented. Once you figure out how to put yourself out there you’ll have people begging you to take their money.’

Leah sniffed and smiled at (Y/n) appreciatively, turning her hand to reciprocate (Y/n)’s strong, yet gentle hold on her. “Thank you, (Y/n). I just wish I knew how to start.”

(Y/n) tapped her chin with the pencil as she thought. When she had an idea, she pulled the paper back to herself and wrote a suggestion.

“An art show? Oh, I don’t know (Y/n). It hardly seems possible.”

(Y/n) shook her head in disagreement and wrote more.

“You really think the town would want to help? Are you sure you want to help? You’ve got enough on your plate already with how busy the farm keeps you. I don’t want to impose.”

(Y/n) looked as if she had something to say, her throat bobbed and her lips twitched, but in the end she settled for the paper again, still too anxious to speak. After Leah had read the reply, she felt (Y/n)’s thumb rub against her knuckles and looked up. (Y/n) nodded, her expression serious. She wanted to help Leah with this.

“Thank you, (Y/n)!” Leah sniffled, holding back tears. She launched herself into (Y/n)’s arms and hugged the surprised farmer close. “Thank you so much!”

(Y/n) slowly returned the hug, smoothing one of her hands over Leah’s back in comforting motions. It was a bit of an awkward position with (Y/n) still sitting at the table and Leah hovering over her, but it felt nice.

“Sorry,” Leah chuckled after a moment, leaning back and wiping a stray tear from her eye, “I kind of caught you off guard with that didn’t I?”

(Y/n) shrugged and smiled good naturedly. A look came over her face as if she just remembered something and she stood up to grab her bag from the cottage entryway. She grinned when she found what she was looking for and made her way back to Leah, holding out a brown paper package to her.

“For me?” Leah asked. (Y/n) nodded and gestured for her to take it. Leah carefully unwrapped it and gasped. “(Y/n), is this goat cheese? I love this, how did you know?”

(Y/n) raised her hand, signing the letters ‘E’ ‘L’ ‘L’ ‘I’ ‘O’ ‘T’ ‘T’.

“Elliott hm?” Leah laughed, “I’m glad you two are getting along after the horseradish debacle.”

(Y/n) crossed her arms and stuck her nose up. She wasn’t looking back on the memory fondly.

“Hey, I’m with you on this one. He was being an ass. How could you have known he hated horseradish.”

(Y/n) nodded in agreement, one of her hands reaching out as if to say, ‘exactly’. She then noticed the time on Leah’s clock and signed that she had to go.

“I see.” Leah smiled sadly, trying not to let her disappointment shine through. “Good bye then, and (Y/n),” Leah signed ‘thank you’, very mindful of the position of her hands this time around, “seriously thank you for everything.”

(Y/n) beamed, giving Leah a thumbs up before heading out the door.

***

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Leah kept mumbling to herself while watching her fellow Pelican Townies set up her creations in the town square. There were already some tourists looking around and Leah felt her nerves fraying.

“Hang in there, kid. Everything looks great. Don’t worry so much.” Robin snuck up on Leah, making her jump. “It’s a beautiful summer day, don’t forget to enjoy it.”

“I’m trying, Robin. It’s just so much.” Leah said, nervously playing with her sleeve. Robin noticed Elliott walking up and motioned him to help deal with the artist while she went to help Demetrius move a heavy wooden sculpture.

“Come on now, Leah. Too late to back out now.” Elliott grinned, thumping her back. “(Y/n) seems especially excited by how things are progressing.”

Leah chanced a glance at (Y/n) and Maru putting up paintings between signing each other excitedly. The scene warmed her heart and her shoulders relaxed a bit.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll try.”

“Great, now let’s go woo some tourists.” Elliott said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“What? Elliott, no!” Leah shook her head.

“Not like that,” Elliott laughed, “I know your heart belongs to someone else. I just meant,” he looks around before whispering in Leah’s ear, “woo them out of their money.”

Leah laughed and pushed Elliott away. “Alright, you focus on the wooing and I’ll focus on explaining my thought processes.”

“That doesn’t sound as fun, but okay, this is your day.”

As Elliot and Leah made their way across the square, an unwelcome guest watched them from afar. Their blood boiled as they saw Leah pause at the makeshift painting gallery to give the farmer’s hand an affectionate squeeze.

***

“I can’t believe we sold so many!” Leah spoke in ecstatic disbelief as she waved at the last car she and (Y/n) had just loaded a heavy wooden sculpture into before it drove away. “This is crazy!”

(Y/n) wore a smile that matched Leah’s, happy to watch the sculptor bouncing in place. When Leah finally stilled, still giddy, she took both of (Y/n)’s hands in hers. Once again free of the gloves, the hands were pleasantly soft against her own and she relished in the feeling.

“(Y/n) I know it’s kind of late, but I have something I want to give to you. I left it at my house so I’m going to go get it. I’ll meet you at the farm, is that alright?”

(Y/n) stared at Leah, her curiosity piqued. She nodded, easily giving Leah the answer she was hoping for.

“Great! I’ll be there soon!” With one last squeeze of the farmer’s hands, she was off. (Y/n) heard the crack of a twig, but when she turned to investigate, nothing stood out so she made her way back to her farm to wait for Leah.

When Leah came up to the porch, (Y/n) had to do a double take at the big wooden statue she was lugging along. With one last huff of air, Leah placed the statue at the base of the steps and grinned up at (Y/n), wiping a bit of sweat from her brow.

“Thanks for waiting. It was a little more ah, heavy, than I expected.” Leah laughed sheepishly. “Come take a look.”

(Y/n) stepped off the porch and circled the piece, taking in every detail. Leah felt nervous butterflies fluttering in her stomach while she watched the farmer scrutinize the work and cleared her throat.

“I started working on it in the spring. I also incorporated some of that driftwood you gave me a few weeks ago. Anyway, I made it with you in mind. It’s called, ‘How I Feel about (Y/n)’ and I’d be honored if you would accept it as a gift for everything you’ve done for me.” Leah stared at her feet as she spoke, too embarrassed to keep her eyes on (Y/n) while she spoke. Then a pair of boots joined, hands came up to clasp her own, pulling the conjoined grasp into her line of vision and coaxing her to look up into (Y/n)’s eyes.

“It’s wonderful.”

At that moment, Leah thought her heart must have been beating so hard that it was affecting her hearing.

“Hh... huh?” Leah asked, rather dumbly.

(Y/n) swallowed thickly, took a deep breath, and whispered, “It’s wonderful, Leah. Thank you.”

Leah looked absolutely awestruck, purple irises shone with excitement and she laughed, pulling (Y/n) into a tight embrace.

“I’m glad you like it.” Leah sniffled, resting her face in (Y/n)’s shoulder.

“Leah?” (Y/n) wrapped her arms around the artist, it was only one word, her name, but Leah heard the concern in the farmer’s tone.

“I’m okay. I’m just happy,” Leah sniffled again, “I’m happy you felt comfortable enough with me to speak to me.”

“Me too.” (Y/n) whispered, holding Leah tighter.

The pair found it difficult when they had to part ways for the night, but they were equally excited over how their relationship was developing, looking forward to spending more time together over the summer.

***

“Come on, just a little further...” Leah coached herself. She was reaching for a piece of fruit hanging from a branch just out of her reach.

She had planned a picnic with (Y/n) for this afternoon. She had already set up under the big old tree near the pond and as she waited for (Y/n) to finish up with her crops and animals for the morning, when she spotted the unusual fruit. Now she was jumping and stretching for the fruit just out of reach.

“Almost— Ah!” Leah struggled to balance herself in the air, swiveling her head to peak over her shoulder, she saw (Y/n) looking up at her with a mischievous grin. Leah rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at the side of her lips. She turned back to the task at hand and grabbed the fruit, motioning (Y/n) to put her back down.

“Show off.” Leah scoffed, lightly punching (Y/n)’s shoulder. “You wanna try a bite?”

“Yes, please.” (Y/n)’s cheeks heated when Leah pressed the fruit to her lips. She took a bite of the offering, savoring the taste. “It’s so sweet.” She said, amazed.

“Right?” Leah smiled, “It’s rare to get fruit from this tree. Usually all the animals snap it all up as soon as they’re ripe, but it seems they miss some from time to time. How is everything with the farm this morning?”

“All is well,” (Y/n) nodded as the pair made themselves comfortable on the blanket Leah had set up, “I would have been here sooner but the goats kept standing in front of my cheese and mayo machines, the chicken coup too. Made it a little difficult.” (Y/n) disclosed. “Which reminds me,” she rummaged through her bag, “goat cheese salads.”

“Mmm, this looks heavenly. Thank you for making these.” Leah said, eagerly stirring in some vinaigrette into the generous fresh salad.

“No problem. Selling my harvest is nice, but it feels so much more rewarding enjoying it like this.” (Y/n) informed, mixing her own salad.

“I can imagine,” Leah hummed and leaned her back fully against the trunk of the tree, “Ah, it’s such a lovely day for this.”

“Mhmm.”

They ate the rest of their meal in peaceful silence, listening to the birds sing and the fish leap, the breeze rustling the trees and grass around them. It was tranquil, it was perfect.

“Hey, Leah,” (Y/n) spoke, breaking the silence.

“Yes?” Leah asked, turning her gaze away from the sketch pad she had brought out.

“It’s almost Fall you know, we’ve known each other for nearly two whole seasons. Half a year, it’s crazy, right?”

“Yeah, it doesn’t seem like it’s been that long, doesn’t it?” Leah giggled, “What made you think of that?”

“Well, I wanted to ask you something. Don’t feel like you have to answer one way or the other, but...” (Y/n) paused, trying to gather her thoughts.

“Hey, it’s okay (Y/n). You can tell me anything. Sign it out if you want to.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m just nervous,” (Y/n) turned to her bag and pulled out a lovely bouquet of flowers, “Leah, would you maybe consider being my girlfriend?“

“Yes!” Leah enveloped (Y/n) in a tackle like hug that sent them both to fully meet the ground, accidentally crushing the flowers between their bodies, “Oops, sorry,” Leah wiggled the flowers out from under her to look at them more closely, “these are lovely, (Y/n). I didn’t know Pierre had these in yet.”

“He didn’t, I planted them.” (Y/n) clarified, smiling up at Leah who still hovered over her, giggling.

“Of course you did, you’re so sweet.”

“I try.”

“Are you kidding me!”

Leah and (Y/n) quickly turned to face the disturbance, scrambling to sit up from their compromising position. Leah felt her stomach twist with discomfort seeing Kel of all people marching up to them, absolutely fuming.

“Seriously, what the hell, Leah?” Kel yelled, their hands clenched into tight fists as they closed in, making yard after yard disappear between them.

“No, more like what the hell, Kel? I broke up with you seasons ago. What are you even doing in Pelican Town?” Leah retorted angrily, as (Y/n) helped her to her feet. Kel watched the motion and ground their teeth.

They were already dangerously close to crossing the threshold of the blanket and that small display was enough to send them stomping over the edge.

“I came for you, obviously! I’ve been slumming it in that dusty old saloon since your art show, waiting to talk to you! Now I find you sucking face with some country bumpkin nobody!” They seethed, stepping even closer into Leah’s personal space until (Y/n) pulled Leah back behind her, making Kel even more incensed. “You stay out of this. I’m talking to Leah!”

(Y/n) held strong, stuck between the harsh obscenities attacking her from the front and the loving affirmations defending her from behind. She held her arm out, willing Kel to stay back as she slowly started to guide Leah back in the direction of town for help. Kel ignored the warning and followed after them.

“Don’t you have anything to say for yourself? You think you’re being some kind of hero right now?” Kel seethed.

(Y/n) stayed silent, she had gone mute again and who would blame her in the face of such a tense situation? She was so very uncomfortable, scared even, but she continued on passed Marnie’s since she knew the woman wasn’t home at this time and she sure wasn’t going to expose Jas to this. Jodi’s house was their next best bet.

“Hey, you obviously want to start something here. You’ve got something to say to me?” Kel continued forward.

“Kel, leave us alone!” Leah commanded, “It’s over, it’s been over, go home!”

“You think you’re too good to talk to me?” Kel yelled, ignoring Leah. “She’s just a whore. She just latched onto the first warm body she could find after her little meltdown. You’re not special.”

(Y/n) froze stiffly in place, Leah felt the muscles on her shoulders tense so she tried to pull on her arm to keep her moving.

“Ignore them, (Y/n). Let’s focus on getting to town, okay?” Leah pleaded. But (Y/n) gently pushed off Leah’s hands and took a step towards Kel with a cold glare. Leah stepped to stand beside (Y/n)’s side, nervous that a more serious confrontation was about to unfold.

“Well?” Kel spat.

(Y/n) crossed her arms, turning her head to look at Leah. The look on her face was all the communication Leah needed to understand. It was definitely a, ‘they better back off or I’m going to knock them off their block’ face. Leah had never known (Y/n) to be particularly violent, but with all the time she spent in the mines, she had no doubt that she could take care of herself.

Leah gasped when Kel suddenly roared, lunging forward. Apparently they had not liked how (Y/n) and Leah had been paying attention to each other rather than themself. Kel had rocketed forward and aimed to punch (Y/n) hard over her cheek, however, at the last moment, Leah pushed her aside and took the blow for her.

(Y/n) inhaled sharply and caught Leah as she stumbled back, noticing how blood immediately began gushing from Leah’s now broken nose.

“Ow- AH!” Leah cried, her hands muffled her voice since she had covered her nose and mouth.

It only took a second for (Y/n) to return the favor to Kel’s stunned face. She punched them fast and hard over their cheek, but Kel was quick to fight back and now it was a full out brawl.

“What’s going on, we heard yelling— holy shit!”

Leah turned away from the fight to see Sam, Seb, and Abigail running up on the scene.

“(Y/n)’s throwing hands!” Abigail yelled, sounding way more excited than worried.

“Leah are you okay? What’s going on?” Sebastian asked, noting the concerning amount of blood running down Leah’s arms and the front of her shirt.

“Don’t worry about me, stop them!” Leah winced, taking one hand away from her face to motion to her ex and her new girlfriend still going at each other.

“Damn, Abi! Go get your dad and Harvey too by the looks of it!” Sam yelled, he seemed to be looking for an opening to push the fighters apart.

“Are you kidding? You get my dad, I’m getting in on this!” Abigail cheered and ran up to jump on Kel’s back like she was at a rodeo while (Y/n) landed a good hit on Kel’s stomach. “Nice punch, (Y/n)!”

“Oh Yoba, Sam, start running.” Seb suggested, trying to help Leah with her nose. He was no Maru, but even he knew how to set a broken nose. Especially within the first couple weeks of Sam taking up skateboarding.

“Right!” Sam ran off back into town screaming. A few tense minutes later and Pierre, Caroline, Robin, Elliott, Maru and Harvey came running behind Sam to break up the fight.

“Abigail, stop!” Pierre huffed, pulling off his daughter and passing her off to his wife, “I taught you what I did to defend yourself, not to lash out like a wild animal!” He grunted, pulling Kel into his grasp and trapping their arms behind their back with Elliott coming up to assist.

“Come on dad, I was helping a friend! What’s the big deal?” Abi groaned, while her mom fretted over her, looking for injuries.

“Easy there kid, it’s over.” Robin coaxed (Y/n), pulling her back. The farmer slumped over in the carpenter’s hold, breathing heavily.

“Is (Y/n) okay? Ah!” Leah hissed as Harvey touched up her nose, giving her a nasal spray before wedging a couple wads of tissue up her nostrils.

“Sorry, Leah.” Harvey sympathized, “Maru is going to check up on her now.”

“What about me?” Kel hissed. Pierre had them resting on their knees. They looked really roughed up. A black eye was already forming and scratches and bruises littered their skin, they were also holding their stomach rather tightly.

“You’ll just have to wait a minute.” Elliott frowned, staring down at the stranger with contempt.

“Don’t you have any police officers in this backwater town? I’ll sue every one of you for withholding care to someone who is obviously hurt!” Kel threatened, grinding their teeth.

“Oh, the police are coming alright!” Caroline spoke indignantly. “You are in no position to be asking for anything right now, bringing violence to our community, you should be ashamed!”

“(Y/n) can you look up for me, please.” Maru asked, carefully tilting (Y/n)’s chin up. (Y/n) sucked in a breath when Maru touched her bruised jaw a tad to hard. “Sorry, Your jaw is bruised pretty badly. Your bottom lip split too. How is your vision?”

(Y/n) shook her head and winced, cradling her head in her hands.

“Okay, possible concussion. We’ll need to observe her at the clinic.” Maru said.

“Alright, come on bruiser,” Robin grunted, heaving (Y/n) to her feet, “Sebbie, help me walk her into town please.”

“Sure mom.” Seb took (Y/n)’s other side.

(Y/n) patted Robin’s arm, motioning her to wait. She slowly turned to Kel and leaned more heavily against Seb as she freed her other arm from Robin to snap her fingers aggressively, looking for Kel’s attention. Once Kel looked up at her, sneering from their spot in the dirt, (Y/n) turned briefly to make sure Leah was watching. When she saw that she was, she smiled as if to say, ‘watch this,’ and turned back to Kel. (Y/n) brought her flat, angled hand below her chin and sent it forward in the direction of Kel’s confused, but no less, pissed face.

“Oh ho! (Y/n) is such a badass!” Abigail laughed.

“Abi, since when do you know sign language?” Sam asked, clearly confused.

“I don’t, but I’ve spent enough time searching curses in different languages to know that was totally a ‘fuck you’. Personally I think a middle finger approach would have been an appropriate classic myself but whatever.” Abigail shrugged.

“Abigail, language!” Caroline scolded.

“Sorry mom.”

“Alright, you’ve had your fun. Clinic, now.” Robin tried to hold in a laugh as she repositioned (Y/n)’s arm over her shoulder. Then she and Seb began walking (Y/n) back into town.

Leah made to follow, but as they were leaving, the police from the the next town over had arrived and they needed her statements as a witness. Never mind that she was covered in her own blood and her girlfriend was being dragged away to the clinic with a concussion. Once the officers were satisfied, they took Kel away with promises to be back for (Y/n)’s statement and to see if any charges would be made. For now they were just going to take Kel back to a hospital in Zuzu City since they may have broken a rib or two in the fight. After that, they were going to be free to go.

Leah wasn’t too worried. She didn’t think Kel would come back after the beating (Y/n) and Abigail gave them. She watched the police car drive out of Cindersaps, taking her disgruntled ex away.

“Leah, I’m sure you want to get to the clinic but you should really clean up first.” Caroline had said patting the younger woman’s back. “(Y/n) will be fine.”

“Yeah, Harvey and Maru got her. Take some time to process.” Elliott smiled.

Leah could only nod tiredly. She trudged over to her cottage to shower and change. She still couldn’t believe how quickly things got out of hand. She looked at her bandaged nose in the mirror, hissing when she gingerly touched the bridge of it. She was wary of Seb setting it himself, but Harvey said he had gone a great job. Once she was physically put back together, Leah quickly made her way to the clinic.

“Where is she?” She asked immediately upon arriving. She sounded a little congested thanks to her clogged nose, but she was easily understood. Robin was still in the waiting room and filled her in.

“Harvey and Maru are talking her through concussion care. She’s okay, but I don’t think she’ll be allowed to work for awhile.”

“Oh no,” Leah sat down, resting her elbows on her knees and covered her eyes with her hands, “This is all my fault.”

“Aw, don’t say that sweetheart. You know that’s not true.” Robin frowned, taking a seat beside her, “(Y/n) would hate to hear you think like that.”

“(Y/n) loves her farm! If she can’t maintain the upkeep...” Leah continued, teary eyed, only to be silenced by Robin.

“I’m going to stop you right there. Nothing is going to happen to the farm. Abi, Sam, and even Seb already told (Y/n) in no uncertain terms that they were going to pitch in while she recovers. Everything is going to be taken care of.” Robin assured.

“Still none of this would have happened if-“

“If you hadn’t broken up with your ex? Moved to Pelican Town? Got a crush? Leah, you can’t punish yourself for moving on with your life. You’re allowed to be happy.” Robin chided gently. “It was hard for me and Sebastian’s father to see eye to eye at the best of times. Now I have Demetrius and although he can be a bit annoying sometimes with his tomato bullshit, not a day goes by that I’m not grateful I took that first step because I love him.” Robin smiled.

Leah’s nose hurt like hell as she tried to carefully wipe the tears from her eyes and Robin rubbed her back affectionately. Once Leah had calmed down, Robin stood and stretched.

“She’s been wondering where you are. The doc is keeping her for overnight observation, but your welcome to stay with her. I on the other hand, am apparently too old for this much excitement and need to go home.”

“Thank you Robin, for talking to me.”

“Anytime,” Robin grinned, “now go get her.”

Leah made her way into the back area of the clinic and nearly ran up to Harvey, Maru, and (Y/n). (Y/n) was signing to Maru while she relayed the information to Harvey as he examined (Y/n)’s well being.

(Y/n) was relieved to see Leah and eagerly motioned her to come sit on the edge of the bed she was sitting in which Leah did happily.

“Leah, how’s the nose?” Harvey asked while he finished up (Y/n)’s chart.

“It’s fine. Just, really sore and tingly.”

“So not fine.” Maru chuckled. “I’ll get you some pain meds.”

“Ah, thanks Maru.” Leah smiled sheepishly.

“Well, Ms. (Y/n),” Harvey sighed, turning his attention back to the farmer, “you and I are in for a long night. I’ll be waking you up every hour to check your pupils to see if your condition changes at all.” Harvey stood and stretched, “Ms. Leah, feel welcome to stay as long as you like. It can’t hurt to keep an extra pair of eyes on her.”

“I could stay overtime, Harvey.” Maru said as she came back with two pills and a glass of water for Leah.

“I seem to recall you talking about a time sensitive experiment this morning.” Harvey recalled, making Maru smack the side of her head. “You’re right! I got to go now! Good night everyone!” Maru called behind her as she rushed out to the waiting room then out of the building.

“I’m going to take the first of my many naps lined up for tonight. I’ll see you ladies in about an hour. Try to get some rest.” Harvey said before leaving to walk up the stairs to his apartment.

Finally Leah and (Y/n) were alone again. (Y/n) sunk down into the covers and sighed deeply. She turned to face Leah, concerning the sculptor by how small she looked.

“You’re not too upset with me, are you?” (Y/n) asked, surprising Leah.

“I’m not upset with you. Why would I be upset with you?”

“I just beat the crap out a person. Sure they are your ex, but you cared about them at some point so it must have been hard to watch. I can’t imagine what you must think of me now.” (Y/n) whispered, she was so quiet Leah had to lean closer and even then she was straining to hear.

“(Y/n), I like you. Nothing that happened today changed how much I like you. It certainly didn’t make me like you any less,” Leah rested her hand over (Y/n)’s cheek, “Kel made their choice when they decided to come to Pelican Town and confront us. I wish it hadn’t gone down the way it did, but that’s not our fault. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I’m glad you’re okay too. I was worried.”

“I wish we could start this day all over,” Leah moaned, “First day as official girlfriends and we get into a fist fight.”

(Y/n) laughed lightly, closing her eyes to combat the pain that came from her jostling. “Abigail thought it was a pretty great date activity.”

“She would think that.” Leah rolled her eyes, “she also eats rocks.”

“Well, think about it this way. Until I’m allowed to take up all my farming duties again, you can do whatever you want with me.”

“Whatever I want, hmm?” Leah tapped her lips with her index finger, “would it be to forward if me to ask for a kiss?”

“You may, just be careful with my split lip. I won’t be able to explain what happened to Harvey if you make it worse.” (Y/n) said.

“One gentle kiss, coming right up.” Leah wiggled on the bed’s stiff hospital sheets until she laid face to face with (Y/n). Their lips met in a soft brushing that was almost ghost like, but rather than leaving them with a chill, warmth bloomed between them.

“Wow.” (Y/n) grinned.

“If you thought that was good, wait until I can get more involved with it.”

“So confident. I like it.” (Y/n) squinted, “could you turn the light off? It’s really starting to hurt my eyes.”

“Of course.” Leah got up and switched off the half the lights to keep their side of the room in darkness but allow Harvey to still be able to see when he came back.

“Now come cuddle, please.” (Y/n) asked sleepily reaching her arms out.

“Nothing would make me happier.”

Leah kicked off her boots and shimmied under the sheets to join (Y/n) and wrapped her arms around her. Leah let the exhaustion of the day roll over her and she had nearly let sleep claim her before her eyes shot open and she propped herself up on her elbow to lean over (Y/n).

“Did I really sign a ‘fuck you’ when we first met?!” She asked, appalled.

(Y/n)’s response was to laugh sleepily into Leah’s chest.

#stardew valley x reader #stardew valley oneshots #sv leah #stardew valley leah #leah x reader #sv leah x reader #stardew valley leah x reader #stardew valley

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please-buckme · 3 years

Text

A Broken Heart.

Lee Bodecker x fem!reader

Chapter 2

Chapter warnings: 18+ mentions of death, mentions of sex, cursing, Lee being an ass, angst, meninist behaviors

Chapter summary: You move back home after three years to find your heart still in shambles.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 // Chapter 3

3 Years Later

After moving a whole county away, Highland Ohio to be exact, you stayed for quite some time. Your aunt was amazing and the sweetest woman you’d ever known, and living with her was a breeze. She’d even gotten you a job at the auto shop her recently deceased husband left to her, which you loved. Life was good, for a while. You never had a reason to come home until your momma got sick.

For the past year you watched as your momma slowly faded away until the last week of April when she finally passed in her sleep. You were devastated, of course, but not only because of her death. She didn’t have much to her name besides a couple thousand in the bank and the house you’d left so long ago, which she left all to you.

The house was old. White paneling a faint tint of brown, grey shutters that were almost all off their hinges and rust anywhere you looked. It was a fixer upper and there’s no way you could sell it in its current condition. So, you decided to move back to Knockemstiff, just for the time being.

In all honesty, you’d grown to hate that town. Nothing but bad memories and any good memories you’d had were tarnished completely. So, once the house was decent enough to sell, you were out of there and back to the life you’d created in Highland.

Your aunt and you drove together in her pick up truck back to the house after your momma passed. She helped you unload your stuff and take things to the necessary rooms.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay? I can make my famous pancakes. I know you love’em.” She grinned.

“As tempting as that sounds, I’m fine. Please, I insist you go now before it gets dark.” You pull your aunt into a hug, a tight hug.

“I’m gonna miss havin’ you around, kiddo.” She sighed, her breath fanning over your neck.

“It’s only for a few months. I’ll be back to annoying you in no time, oldie.”

“Hey, I’m not old.” She laughed and pointed her finger at you sternly but still in a lighthearted way.

“And I’m not a kid.”

She laughed a little more then sighed, “Well, I guess I’ll head out. Call me if you need anything and don’t forget to go down to Billy’s tomorrow. He’s excited to bring you in.”

You smiled, “How could I forget? I need some sort of income to fix this craphole up.”

You walked your aunt to her car and waved her goodbye as she drove way. Your eyes welled up but you made sure not to cry in front of her or she’d never leave.

Once you went back in, you immediately got to work. Starting in the kitchen, you didn’t have much but a few coffee cups. The house was still occupied with your momma’s things and you were already dreading having to go through it all.

Things started to come together room by room as you worked most of the day away. You cleaned and rearranged things to your liking now that it was your house. It felt almost empowering to do what you want. You’d never lived alone so, in a way, this was an adventure as well.

You took your old room instead of the master, since that’s where your momma passed. It gave you goosebumps just thinking about and you knew you’d never get any sleep if you stayed in there. Your room wasn’t big but it was good enough for now and much better than sleeping in your momma’s death bed, hard pass.

You’d taken a seat on the couch with some tea you’d brewed up earlier that morning. This was the first time you sat down since arriving, and of course there’s a knock at the door.

“Whatever you’re selling, I promise you, I ain’t interested.” You shout, too exhausted to even attempt getting up.

The knocking continued, “Oh, for fucks sake.” You groaned under your breath and stood on your aching feet to tell them to fuck off in person. You opened the door, “did you not hear me the first time. I said-“

“Hi, Y/n” Lee greeted as he removed his hat.

You scoffed, “Can I help you with somethin’, Sheriff?”

Lee stood there, fiddling with the bill of his hat. His belly had gotten a little bigger and his cheeks had gotten a little chubbier, but you couldn’t help the hitch in your throat when his wedding ring caught your eye. Just a basic silver band, nothing special. But it still left a hollow pit in your stomach.

“I-“ he cleared his suddenly dry throat. “I heard you was back in town. Thought I’d come see for ma self if the rumors were true.”

“Welp, here I am. You can go now.”

“Y/n, I-“

“No, Lee, please. I’ve had a long day and I honestly don’t feel like talking to you right now. No, I take that back. I don’t feel like talking to you at all.”

“That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think, doll.” He grins.

“Goodbye, Sheriff.” You shut the door only to hear him holler at you from the other side.

“Still can’t say my name, huh, Doll? Boy, I really did a number on you, didn’t I?” Your heart sank at his words. It seemed your pain was a joke to him this whole time. You’d always pictured him crying alone like you were but clearly that was never the case. Y’all’s relationship didn’t seem one sided until you were the only one hurt by the fall out.

“Welcome home, Y/n.” He said before you heard his boots click against the porch as he left.

You took a deep breath as you backed away from the door. Tears rimmed your eyes and you scoffed aloud to yourself. After three years you still weren’t over him and you knew that. You didn’t know, however, that he’d still have such a hold on you. And by the way he reacted to how sensitive you were towards the situation still didn’t help the ever growing void that ran through your entire loveless body. The only man you ever loved looked at you as if you were a quick fuck and a punchline.

A tear burned against your cheek and you were quick to wipe it away. You swore to yourself that you’d never cry over that man again and you won’t, instead you decided it was time for a much needed bath.

The bath was scolding hot, just how you liked it, and you opened up a bottle of wine as a sort of reward for the work you’d done today. Once the water got cold and the wine ran out, you brushed your hand and teeth and went to bed.

The sun beamed down against your skin as you walked to the local auto shop where your aunt had set you up with another job. You were always good with numbers and they desperately needed someone on the books. Your job would be to look at their spending over the last few months and figure out some sort of budget. You did that for your aunt at her shop, so this didn’t worry you at all.

“Hi, you must be Billy.” You greet the owner, “I’m

y/n, Peggy’s niece.”

“Oh, yes. I’m glad you finally made it down.” He beamed, shaking your hand, “How long will you be here for?”

“I’m not sure, actually. Just until I get my house fixed up enough to sell.” You say, retracting your hand from his sweaty one.

“Ah, well as luck would have it, our secretary just quit on us last week, so there’s a position you’ll adjust to right fine.”

You scoffed, “Wait a minute. Did you say secretary?”

“Yeah. You need to get your hearing checked, Honey?” He grinned. What is it with the men in this town?!

“No, I heard you just fine. My problem is that I was supposed to be your Budget Holder, not a damn secretary.” Your face was turning a touch of pink as you became increasingly annoyed.

“That’s a man's job, sweetie. We don’t you blown a fuse tryin’ ta add up all them numbers, now do we?”

“You can’t be serious.” You say flatly.

“Look, it’s the only position we got. Take it or leave it.”

Everything in you wanted to March out of that shop and never go back again. A secretary's position is nothing to frown upon, but to only be offered it because you’re a woman was despicable. Sadly, you needed this job and it would only be for a few months. So, when you told him you’d take the job you swallowed every ounce of respect you had for yourself. Knockemstiff was truly the worst town in America.

“Sounds great. We’ll see you tomorrow for training. There’s no dress code but there are a few things you’ll need to know before starting. I’ll fill you in once we start your training tomorrow.” He shook your hand again, completely ignoring the furious grimace on your face.

“Great. See you tomorrow.” You mumbled, walking away so you didn’t ‘accidentally’ hit your new boss.

Before heading home you decided to stop and grab some things for the house. Being sick, your momma didn’t eat much besides soup, and there was an over abundance of vanilla flavored Ovaltine cans littering the kitchen counters, which you hated.

The second the doors opened, all eyes were on you. You even heard a faint gasp coming from the woman at the register. A smirk crept upon your face. These people's lives were so boring that they still aren’t over your breakup that happened so long ago. Rolling your eyes, you grabbed a cart and headed down the produce aisle.

Once you grabbed the vegetables you’d need for a stew, you headed towards the baking aisle. You need the ingredients for an upside down pineapple cake your momma used to make for you as a kid. Your aunt was coming into town on Saturday to lend a hand and celebrate her birthday. You told her to go have fun, but she insisted on spending her special day with you.

As you searched for the baking soda, you heard your name.

“Did you see Y/n’s back in town?” A lady with a high pitched voice whispered.

“I did. I just saw her. Poor thing. She’s probably still caught up on the sheriff. Prolly wish it was her that was on his arm instead of Laura-Jean.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I know it. Wouldn’t you, though? He’s so handsome.” The lady with the high patched voice giggled.

“Oh, hush! Don’t say things like that.” The other lady joined the high pitched one in whispered giggles. “Oh my goodness, here he comes.” She cleared her throat, “Afternoon, Sheriff.”

“Evenin’,Ladies. Y’all behavin’ yourselves?” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

They both giggled and in unison said, “Yes, Sheriff.”

“Oh give me a break.” You grimaced to yourself.

“Heard Y/n’s back in town.” The high pitched one spoke up. Your face burned. Why would they bring you up to him so bluntly like that? Everyone in this town was so unbelievably nosy.

“I- I heard. Actually just went to see her yesterday.” He said, clearing his throat.

“Uh-oh, the misses didn’t like that, I’m sure.” They giggled.

“Oh, no. She didn’t mind. I was just droppin’ by to give her my condolences about her momma dyin’. Then, she slammed the door in my face. I guess she’s still pretty upset with me.” He was pouting, trying to get some sort of sympathy. If you rolled your eyes any harder you thought they’d pop out of your head.

“Oh, you poor thing. Is there anything we can-“

Suddenly the baking soda slipped from your hand and scattered all other the floor in a puff of dust. “Shit, shit, shit.” You whispered to yourself.

“What was that?” One of the ladies asked.

“Excuse me, ladies.” Lee said. You could hear his boots clacking against the floor on there way over to you.

Shit.

You desperately wanted to run away but leaving this mess for someone to clean up wasn’t right, not even with the predicament you found yourself in. “Well, well, well,” Lee mocked as he rounded the corner. “Only here for less than a day and you’re already causin’ trouble.”

“Stay out of this, Bodecker.” You huff, trying to scoop the baking soda back into the card box it spilled from.

“Was you eavesdroppin’, girl?” He asked, kicking the soul of your shoe.

You scoffed, “Oh, please. I could give two shits what you say about me, Bodecker.”

He leaned in close, hovering over your left side. You heard him chuckle which startled you. He was so close. You could feel the familiar heat radiating from his body and smell that familiar cologne. His lips came down close to your ear. He licked them and then whispered, “If ya weren’t eavesdroppin’, how’d ya know I was talkin’ bout you, hm?”

Your eyes shuttered closed as he spoke, feeling his hot breath against your cheek. His deep southern drawl always made you weak. It took you back to those times in the back of the cruiser. He whispered such dirty praises in your ear when you would ride his cock. Those dirty words that could make you cum in seconds.

“You still with me, doll?” You felt him tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You flitched and stood up, “I- don’t touch me and stop calling me doll, alright? I really don’t have time for your games today, sheriff, and I’m not even really sure what you’re playin’ at in the first place.”

He smirked, running a thumb across his lip, “Darlin, I think the only thing I ever played was you..”

“I-“ your breath hitched in the back of your throat, “I have to go.” You turned to walk away, leaving the mess you’d made and your cart behind. Your eyes welled up with tears again. You didn’t know the man that stood in front of you. Lee was nothing but good to you when you dated and now he’s the most hateful man you’d ever met. The man you loved had disappeared and there’s nothing you could do to bring him back, no matter how bad you wanted to. A tear stained your cheek as you sped through the aisle. You could hear Lee hollering for you to stop but you wouldn’t this time.

All the heartbreak and sorrow that you’d left behind was creeping its way back in. The sooner you sold the house and got the hell out of there, the better.

Dividers by: @firefly-in-darkness

Taglist: @haydens-moles , @c00lkidvibes , @tcc-gizmachine , @buckysm3talarm , @gogolucky13 , @cryptidcasanova , @heavenlyseb , @writersbuck , @teddy-bearbaby , @bbmommy0902 , @sweetllamaparadise , @thereblogcrusader , @aleemendoza2425-blog , @frostbytebaby , @jessyballet , @emotionallyandphysicallydone , @sarge-barnes-sir , @generalbagelcookieslime , @lady-loki-ren , @dime-piece-xo , @greeneyedblondie44

(Dm me to be added to taglist)

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