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#please just go to my drawing tag and scroll down a bit before make a request </3 it’s not that hard yknow
Can you draw Enid From Netflix's Wednesday?
kitten.. i’ve already drew her with Wednesday before
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irisintheafterglow · 1 year
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Lavender Haze (pro!bakugo katsuki x you)
summary: your relationship with dynamight had just gone public, and you need a little verbal affirmation that you two will make it out okay
word count: 1k
cw/tags: very mild angst/comfort, mostly just affectionate katsuki fluff, swearing/profanity wouldn't be a bakugo fic without it, suggestive if you squint, reader is also a pro hero, pet names (babe, stupid, dumbass)
note: i love writing stubborn katsuki banter with an equally stubborn reader who's just used to his antics. domestic katsuki just makes me adhfsjfdfjsgjk, yk? enjoy!
likes/reblogs/feedback are always appreciated!!
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You heard the key turn in the door down the hallway and finally put down your phone after scrolling through Twitter for hours. They’d been particularly ruthless today, ripping into your relationship and theorizing that he didn’t even love you. The room was dark and the thought of faking sleep crossed your mind, but you knew he’d sense you were still awake. So, you wait for him to slip off his gauntlets and tug off his boots and find you in your shared bedroom. 
“Babe?”
“Here, Kats.” He lays down beside you, and you’re so mentally exhausted that you don’t even scold him for slipping into bed dirty from patrol. You let him pull you into his arms and inhale deeply against his chest.
“Why are you still awake?”
“Was waiting for you to come home.”
“Bullshit. You fall asleep hours before I’m off shift.”
“Maybe tonight’s just different, then.”
“Are you gonna tell me what’s different?” 
“Do I need to?”
“Yeah, you’re starting to worry me.” 
“I’m just… scared.” His body tenses around you, scarlet eyes searching your face with concern. 
“What’s wrong? What happened?” 
“Nothing happened, not yet, at least. I’m just…”
He thinks for a moment, and you can’t help but stare in wonder at how beautiful he is when the gears in his brain turn. “They’re getting to you again.”
“How did you know?” Of course, he figured it out; he always seemed to be able to know exactly what you were thinking and verbalize it in a way that you couldn’t. 
“Because I love you, stupid, and I know your mind like it was my own.”
“They just, they think I’m using you, Kats, or that I don’t love you, or that this is all a PR stunt by my agency–” Your voice starts to shake on its own, and you push back against the frustration welling up in your eyes. 
“Your manager isn’t smart enough to do that.” A finger comes down to brush a stray hair from your face as you glare up at him. He’d been wanting you to hire a new manager for months or simply merge with his agency, but you wanted the social media firestorm to die down first before any big public moves. 
“Bakugo Katsuki.”
“What? You know I’m right.”
“Not the point.”
“You need to stop reading through Twitter, baby. You really trust some assholes on the Internet over the man of your dreams?” He smirks down at you and draws spirals on your shoulder with his fingers, leaving tingling sensations in their wake. He knew just how to make you feel better, and it was one of your favorite things about him. The way he balanced crude humor with reassurances that you needed and small acts of affection distracted your brain from spiraling any further.  
“Okay, man of my dreams, I get it. Could you just say it?” He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip absentmindedly. 
“Say what?”
“You know, the thing. Please.”
“Oh, right.” Understanding washed over his face, and you caught a little bit of underlying impatience that made you feel a little guilty for asking. 
“Did you forget?”
“Of course not. I just wish I didn’t have to keep telling you that I’m not going to leave you because of some fuckfaces on the Internet making up rumors. I trust you, you trust me, and no one else’s bullshit matters.” He shrugs a toned shoulder and returns to dragging his fingers over your body, running his hands in the creases and dips that he’s memorized on you. 
You roll your eyes. His encouragement was effective, but you couldn’t help but huff out a laugh at the expletives thrown into this round of verbal affirmation. “That’s more aggressive than last time, Kats.”
“It’s an upgrade,” he grins, gently squeezing the flesh around your hips. He got more handsy when he was deliriously satisfied, not that you were complaining. “Next time you get anxious that I’d do something stupid like break up with you, I’m gonna tell Shoto to buy Twitter and ban you from it.” 
“Bold of you to assume he would listen to anything you say.”
“Bold of you to assume I don’t know where he and his entire family lives,” he whispers innocently, pressing his lips to your forehead. His fingers brush up and down the sides of your neck and shoulders, sending chills running through your limbs. 
“Kats–”
“I’m kidding…” He drawls and flashes a cruel grin. “Kinda.” 
“Okay, high school asshole Katsuki, get out of my bed and shower. You’re all sweaty and sticky and yuck.” You push against his chest to no avail. 
He pouts, grabbing hold of your wrists and having you pinned against your bed in one fluid motion. “I thought you loved it when I was sweaty and sticky and yuck.” Strands of blonde hair fall onto his forehead and brush against yours as he leans down to brush his lips against yours. He’d never looked so beautiful.
“Not when I’m trying to sleep.”
He pulls back abruptly, looking at you skeptically. “You weren’t trying to sleep shit, babe.” 
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Neither does spiraling over idiots on a stupid fucking bird app.” Fortunately, your body’s awareness of Katsuki’s hands had put the hate tweets you read in the furthest corner of your mind.
“You made your point, like, three points ago.”
His head dips back down to kiss a trail down your collarbone. “Yeah, but sometimes your dumb ass doesn’t listen.”
“You can’t resist this dumb ass.”
He bites down gently where your shoulder meets your neck and you jump, his chuckle buzzing against your skin. “Nope. It’s a plague.” Any more of his body on yours was set to be a disaster, so you attempt to halt his advances before you’re further entangled with each other. 
“Take a shower, Kats.”
He leaves one more chaste kiss on your nose. “I love you.”
“Love you too.” You sigh and wait for him to release your wrists, but he gives you a pointed look like you’d responded incorrectly. 
“I. Love. You.” God, he’s such a brat. 
You press a kiss up to his forehead and he closes his eyes in contentment. “I love you more.”
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if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)
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polskasroka · 2 months
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Tell Me a Story, Odysseus!
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Hades (Supergiant Games Video Games) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Melinoë & Odysseus (Hades Video Game) Characters: Melinoë (Hades Video Game), Odysseus (Hades Video Game) Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, Written During Hades II (Supergiant Video Game) Early Access, Fluff, Found Family, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father Figures, basically a very wholesome fic, inspired by that in-game flashback sequence, little mel must be protected at all costs, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore Word count: 1,569 Summary:
“Am I boring you with these, little Goddess?” Odysseus asks, amused.
“It’s no fun if I can’t see it all myself. Let’s do something fun.”
“I’m open to suggestions.”
“Tell me a story, Odysseus!”
Read on AO3 or below!
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Working on yet another strategy against their enemy, Odysseus is staying up late once again. The whole Crossroads have long gone quiet, only some occasional crickets or frogs can be heard, rustling among the grasses or bushes. Sometimes the waters of the Cocytus ripple in the distance too but apart from that, nothing disturbs the peaceful silence-non silence of the woods.
That is until there’s something like a whimper echoing among the trees and Hecate’s big cauldron. It draws Odysseus’ attention away from the plans spread over the table for a moment, in which he’s trying to assess where the sound came from. However, since the noise doesn’t repeat, he shrugs and returns to the scrolls before him.
Not for long, though.
The next thing he hears is a panicked shriek that certainly originates from Melinoë’s tent.
Without hesitation, Odysseus abandons the paper he’s just held in his hands and strides to the front of the tent and stops before its closed flaps. Usually, he’d knock first but there’s nothing to knock at, so he puts his hand back down after reaching it up. He thinks for a second and then just decides to ask.
“Little Goddess, are you alright in there?”
He flinches only a tiny bit when the flaps flutter and little Melinoë is clinging onto his leg. His eyes full of sympathy, he looks down at her and pets her hair to soothe her, feeling her press herself even closer to his side.
“What’s going on?” he wonders in a hushed tone.
“Odysseus, that tall and dark figure is there again!” Melinoë squeals, her eyes tightly closed.
“Where? Tell me, so I can go and show them who this tent belongs to.”
“No! You can’t go there! He’s scary and… and…!”
“Ah! He won’t scare me, little Goddess! Your tactician here is too old to be scared by some…”
“No, please!”
Well, he’s not going to go anywhere while Melinoë’s basically glued to him. The poor girl is shivering and sniffling and Odysseus doesn’t have the heart to disobey her and terrify her even more. Even a quick peek inside can’t happen, so the tactician has to change his tactics.
Thus, he doesn’t even make a move towards the tent. Instead, he somehow manages to crouch down, so that he can now have the goddess stand in front of him. She’s all downcast, looking at the ground and rubbing at her teary eyes and the sight hurts Odysseus.
He takes her small hands in his to prevent her from irritating her glassy eyes further. Stroking Melinoë’s knuckles with his thumbs, he makes her lock her eyes with his. They’re sad and tired but Odysseus is going to change that. That little goddess will not go back to sleep all frightened and upset.
“Come with me and we’ll spend some time away from that horrible man that keeps you awake at night, what do you say?” Odysseus offers, his tone nothing but uplifting.
“But it’s past my bedtime! Hecate won’t be happy!”
“It’s past mine too, little Goddess! The Witch doesn’t have to know.”
He winks to the goddess and her face lights up immediately. Joy reappears in Melinoë’s mismatched eyes and she smiles while some stray tears remain on her cheeks. Odysseus promptly wipes them away and stands up, smirking to himself at the little mischief he’s just come up with.
Melinoë turns around and starts heading towards the tactician’s post but she hasn’t taken more than five steps before she’s snatched by Odysseus, lifted up and given a piggyback ride. She screeches and then presses her hand against her mouth not to wake up the entire Crossroads as she’s enjoying the ride to Odysseus’ trusty desk, giggling in the meantime.
His heart’s growing at Melinoë’s happy noises and the wide smile on her face as he sits her on the table is priceless. She scoots a bit to let him make more room for her as he’s collecting the most interesting maps of Erebus that he wants to show her.
“Can I go there yet?” she asks after studying the current map of the forest for the last couple of minutes.
“I’m afraid not.”
“Can I go there if you come with me, then?”
Melinoë looks at Odysseus with her big, hopeful eyes but he has to disagree once more.
“That’s unfair!” she huffs, folding her arms over her chest.
“One day, when you’re big enough, you’ll be able to go there all on your own. Isn’t that worth the wait?” Odysseus challenges back, quirking an eyebrow up.
“All I do is wait and wait… I want to see more of Erebus, Odysseus! There must be so many new spots to hide. Just imagine playing hide and seek there!”
Melinoë muses silently for a bit and then says, “can you talk to Hecate, Odysseus? Ask her to take us there?”
“I can try, little Goddess, but I am not promising anything. That alright?”
“Yes! Thanks! You’re the best!”
Melinoë listens to Odysseus explain all the hidden forest paths that he has been discovering and dutifully copying onto the scrolls but the young goddess she is, she starts to get bored soon. But she’s also polite, so she hides it for as long as she can. Her patience has its limits, though, and while she thinks that she’s been focused on Odysseus rambling about all these drawings for hours now, it’s been only a quarter of an hour.
So, at one point, Melinoë yawns. Politely, of course.
“Am I boring you with these, little Goddess?” Odysseus asks, amused.
“It’s no fun if I can’t see it all myself. Let’s do something fun.”
“I’m open to suggestions.”
“Tell me a story, Odysseus!”
“A story, aye?” He leans his hands against the edge of the table and squints at Melinoë. “Which story?”
“About you and your friend sneaking up on the bad men and stealing their horses!”
Odysseus smiles at the fond memory that happens to be the goddess’ choice for today’s second bedtime story.
“We stole a chariot too but let me start from the beginning…”
He sits on top of the table and Melinoë takes her spot right next to him. She leans her head against his arm and sighs deeply, relaxing as she tunes into Odysseus’ flowery and winged words.
As always, he really gets into the spirit of the days long gone, both to keep himself awake and to entertain Melinoë as best as he can. She is indeed amused but sleep’s more powerful than the young goddess and it begins to embrace her sooner than she’d like. Obviously, Melinoë’s doing all she can to resist it but her eyelids grow far too heavy to keep fending the sleep off.
It’s not the first time that Melinoë nearly dozes off while listening to one of Odysseus’ stories about his mortal life. It’s actually happened so many times, that he knows precisely when to end his monologue and call it a day. But before he does that, he takes off his cloak and wraps it around Melinoë, so that she doesn’t get cold on the way to her sleeping mat.
Careful not to let the goddess fall off the edge of the desk, he keeps an eye on her while hopping off of it himself and then scoops her into his arms to carry her back to her tent. She cuddles into him, visibly content to be enveloped in Odysseus’ huge cloak.
“Will you steal a chariot for me too, Odysseus?” she mumbles sleepily.
“I’ll steal as many of them as you ask of me, little Goddess,” he answers softly, quietly. He’s also tired by now.
“And build me a wooden horse?”
“Aye. Just let me gather some wood for that.”
“Mhm…”
By the time they’ve entered Melinoë’s tent, she’s fast asleep and seemingly nothing can rouse her from this blissful state. Odysseus still won’t risk it and lets her keep his cloak for the rest of the night (or day) as he puts her on her sleeping mat all gently.
So much for not waking her up, though.
Just as he’s about to get up and out of the tent, Melinoë reaches out her hand and grabs one of his fingers.
“Don’t go, Od…” she mutters, barely opening her weary eyes.
Her tiny voice grips Odysseus’ by his heart. Can he say no to her? Can he say no to the Princess of the Dead who clearly doesn’t want to stay there in her tent, all alone, vulnerable to nightmares and tall, dark figures disturbing her rest?
“Your wish is my command, little Goddess.”
She snuggles up first to the cloak she’s got around herself and then to Odysseus who makes himself comfortable next to her, on the blankets that cover the ground beneath. Melinoë lets out a satisfied exhale and falls asleep in no time. Odysseus soon follows.
During their sleep, Melinoë manages to climb or roll onto Odysseus chest. Feeling the weird weight pressing against him, he wakes up to check what or who is blocking his lungs which haven’t been even working for years now, probably. Yet, the phantom reflexes have never left his body.
Odysseus sniggers under his breath upon seeing the culprit. He couldn’t be less bothered by it, so he wraps one arm around the slumbering goddess in order to prevent her from falling back onto the ground.
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kvothe-kingkiller · 2 years
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Edit: No longer looking for Alpha Readers but I’m keeping this up for posterity and info
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I’m looking for alpha readers for an ongoing fantasy project which I am currently releasing chapter by chapter. I’ll also make a post when I finish it in case you are the type to prefer to read it in one go. 
You do not need to have editing skills or experience. I am only looking for basic commentary.
Blurb: In an unsteady time of peace following a generations-long war, Mila, an 18 year old farmer, finds herself unexpectedly thrust into the world of nobility upon discovering she can wield a power thought only to be possessed by the upper class. Struggling to find her feet in this new environment and shunned by those around her, she juggles learning about her abilities, her identity, and the truth of the war behind the propaganda. When her equally ostracized mentor gets a tip about a plot to assassinate one of the country’s leaders, it’s down the dysfunctional teacher with a shady past and his apprentice who can barely control her powers to prevent the country from falling back into conflict.
(This is adult fantasy, not YA)
tags/highlights/themes: non-european-based fantasy world, adult fantasy, many queer characters and relationships (including aces), discovering sexuality, struggles with mental health and addiction, physical disabilities, dealing with trauma and taking responsibility, race relations, eat the rich, government propaganda, political intrigue, war is for money, war hurts the most vulnerable, etc
more info under the cut but if you’re interested or have questions, please DM me
(scroll down for info about setting, plot, and characters. content warnings and ‘rating’ under plot)
General Info:
Like I said, no experience needed. All I want to hear about is what you like/dislike, what is clear/unclear and any theories you have (for foreshadowing). You can be as detailed as you want or you can leave a single sentence comment for each chapter, anything helps. 
This is a first draft to be clear. I want alpha readers so I can make large changes to plot before rewriting everything for the second draft. On one hand it’s still fairly rough, on the other hand you don’t need to know anything to help. I just need opinions on plot and pacing and characters and foreshadowing etc etc. Again I am still writing it, I usually do ish a chapter a month sometimes faster sometimes slower. The chapters are usually ~10k, and I already have 27 out. (it is long)
This is going to be done through google classroom (yes, google classroom) because I need it to be inaccessible to anyone not invited and because I want people to be able to comment without being influenced by others and google classroom was literally the only thing I could find to do that for free. This does mean that whatever name you have on google will be seen by me and possibly others, just as an fyi. Also I have to add you to the ‘class’ but I can send you the prologue first if you want to try-before-you-buy (tho be aware the prologue is a bit more action packed than the start of the plot)
misc. pros for doing this: it already has art! because I do be an artist as well and I only ever draw my characters because motivation be finicky. Also, if you get through the entire thing I’ll do a commission for you (for free). plus I’m always looking for art ideas so if you say ‘it would be funny/cool if x did y’ then chances are I will actually draw it lol. also, free book ig?
Setting: 
Magic: Low fantasy with scarce/rare magic. The magic is called forging and is basically element magic but I wanted to explain all the hand movements people do with those so I incorporated more rules and ‘science’ to make it more rigid. there are ten basic ‘facets’ (air fire water stone earth wood iron copper blood bone) and people can be born knowing any number, or special different ones, but it gets exponentially rarer with more facets. the magic is genetic and mostly confined to the upper class and has become a way of oppressing the lower class. this actually gets addressed rather than mentioned then ignored (cough, korra, cough)
Culture: The culture of the main country, Odrad, is based on african, middle eastern, and mediterranean cultures, with a bit of southern asian. However most of that is simply due to the setting being dry and hot, and so developing dark skin and loose clothing and making most things out of stone and plaster due to the scarcity of wood. Religion is polytheistic based around an all mother type goddess and the god of the sun with the biggest festival being the start of the wet season. Other important countries include Acrait, the biggest on the continent, which is more south asian based, and Sheiro, which is steppe-type culture. Odrad is an ex-monarchy ruled by a council that has morphed into capitalism and feudalism’s horrid little baby with ‘nobles’ controlling everything. 
Queer Culture: First of all I use the word queer a Lot lol so if you aren’t into that, might not be for you. There is oppression since I am one of the queers who prefers an overcoming story than a setting with no oppression, but it is similar to current western culture in the sense that it’s not Horrible (so no like legal death sentences for gay sex etc), not As bad as it used to be, is worse in rural areas, and is rapidly changing in the cities. for the most part people hide their queerness but there is underground culture. Most of the characters are queer so there’s a lot of rep including ace and nb
Plot:
So far, it is Long. I am 200k words in at chapter 27 and probably only halfway through and this is only the first book. A lot of the first bit is just Mila’s struggles at the school where she’s learning forging. It is taking a turn into much more political intrigue than I planned but I’m leaning into it. so just know that its long and not just constant action, there is a lot of downtime since I enjoy my character interactions and developments and fluff etc. 
It is very R rated. Mostly due to dark subject matter, blood/gore etc, and lots of swearing (I come from a family where they’re just used as emphasis words really lol, so that’s somewhat leaked in...and it’s a first draft so I can’t be bothered to spend that much time removing them). There is a Lot of discussion around sex but no actual sex scenes. It has many things which could be triggering so just lmk if you want me to warn you about anything specific. It is dark and has dark themes, however, it is not a grimdark vibe, the vibes are actually fairly light all things considered. The characters have a lot of bantz and mess around and have fun, so it’s much less constantly serious than most ‘dark’ adult fantasy. I wanted to make them more relatable as people rather than just ‘whatever badass magic user’ (they’re actually mostly fairly pathetic pft)
General CW list: violence, gore, emotional abuse, abusive relationships, child abuse, sexual harassment, bullying, homophobia, transphobia, racism, ableism, frank depictions of mental illness, alcohol/drug use, addictions, intrusive thoughts, self harm, suicide ideation/attempts, war, war crimes, torture, mind control
CW list of things mentioned and discussed or that happen but not shown directly ‘on screen’: rape, pedophilia, forced pregnancy
Characters:
I’ll just give a very brief (and not great) description of the main three
Mila: (pron. ‘mee-luh’) the MC, disaster lesbian but more in a cringe fail way than a messy bitch way. tiny (4′10) but v powerful, just can’t quite use it yet. country kid way behind on the times. needs a break so badly
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Ardev: imagine if you gave a wet rat the power to take over the world but he couldn’t be bothered. gay/ace and has so many things deeply wrong with him. short king
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Endel: the only competent one. bi. BDE. femme. a slut. perfect at everything. his biggest flaw is that he likes Ardev. also has things deeply wrong with him.
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thx for reading and again, DM if you’re interested or have questions <3
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babybulls15 · 3 months
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Heyho hello, I am Mia and I have finally accepted my fate! 🤪
After living in denial for the longest time, I have finally accepted the fact, that my random fandom sideblog has slowly but surely turned into my F1 RPF blog.
And because this is also where I promote my own writing, it might be time to actually introduce myself.
So here we go, I guess...
💫About Me💫
There's actually not very much to be said about me specifically.
I'm Mia (on the internet at least ;D) and I run this Tumblr account, thx byee :))
jk, here are some Tumblr-relevant facts about me:
🙆‍♀️ I'm a cis woman, going by she/her pronouns
💬 I speak English, German, French and a bit of Spanish (I don't tag posts language-specific, though)
⌛ I started my fandom journey on Wattpad and am now very happy to have deboarded that particular train for Tumblr xD
💻 I actually don't have any other social media, because I'm very susceptible to doom-scrolling (but I want memes, so I'm very thankful for Tumblr and my saviour the chronological dash lmao)
❤️ my offline hobbies include but are not limited to: reading, writing, singing, music, photography, knitting, Magic: The Gathering, nature (whatever that means)
📚 I am an indiscriminate enjoyer of all things written down, whether it be traditionally published books, comics or fanfiction
✏️ I wrote some fanfic in my teenage years, switched to poetry for a while, before coming back to long-form fandom writing
🏎️ I've always been really into motor sports of any kind, but kept it mostly offline and regional, F1 has only recently been added to the list and I am actually very surprised by how much I enjoy it (it also managed to get me over my almost decade long writers block so I think I will stay for a bit)
⁉️ Although I am an advocate for Don't like it, don't read it!, I recognize that sometimes it's not that easy. I myself have clear boundaries of what I am and am not comfortable seeing. Therefore, although I do post F1 on my main blog, I've decided to keep the rpf-side of things confined to this sideblog.
💌 I am always delighted to meet new people and make new friends, so if you want to chat, please don't hesitate to send me a DM or an ask!! <3333
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💫About this blog💫
Drivers I support a bit more than the others:
🦁 MV1
🌶️ CS55
👑 LH44
💚 NH27
🐨 OP81
I don't hate anyone, these are just the ones I care/post about the most. :))
Posts about particular drivers are mostly tagged with a shorthand just like in the list. :)
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Ships that live in my head rent free:
🦁🌶️ Versainz (hence the url ;))
🦁👑 4433
🦁🚗 Lestappen
🌶️🧡 Carlando
🦁🦡 Maxiel
👑👱 Brocedes
🌶🐨 Carcar
🧡🐨 Landoscar
and whatever else tickles my fancy :))
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My own two cents are organized like this:
✨ #mia screams into the void but in a different direction for original posts
✨ #mia throws writing into the void for my writing (can also be found on Ao3)
✨ #oh don't go breaking my heart for all the heart-break
✨ #wtf did i just witness for all the mind-break
✨ #oh…oh no for all things 'this is very funny but also wtf people'
✨️ #lights out and away we meme for...well...memes
✨️ #*write write write* for general fandom and writing related posts/memes
✨️ #artsy for anything art (drawings, writing, edits, gifs, ...)
I might come up with some more things to differentiate between stuff.
If you have read this far I am very grateful! Thank you for giving me the time of day, I am so glad you exist! (also pls come and chat with me if you want) 🥰🥰
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pink-sunset-skies · 5 months
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Hello! :3
Hi! I'm Aspen! :> I think at one point I'm going to make separate posts for my dni/byf and About Me, but for now they'll just be in one post.
dni/byf and other info under the cut!
I'll do my dni/byf first so you don't have to scroll down a bunch lol
dni/byf I don't really have a dni as it sounds like they may not even work. Though I will list my stances on some things! And if you interact and I notice I'm on your dni I'll block you. /lh
I guess I'm a proshipper. Though at the moment I'm not planning on posting that kind of content here, so don't worry! And if I ever do I'll probably make a separate blog.
I'm against lgbt+ phobias(homophobia, transphobia, etc.), racism, sexism, fatphobia, transmeds, and anti abortion. (Unfortunately, I may be forgetting some stuff, but if I remember anything I'll come back and add it later!)
I'm pretty sure I'm a singlet, and currently I feel neutral about endogenic systems as I still haven't done proper research.
Swearing is allowed on my account! And you'll probably see me swearing every now and then lol. Though don't swear at me or call me swear words, thank you.
I'm an immature person lol so there will probably be nsfw jokes and the like, but at the moment I'm not sure if I'll be posting full on nsfw stuff. (like nsfw drawings or fanfics/hcs, for a few examples) And even if I do at some point I will add warnings/proper tags, and I'll update this post! :>
If I ever need to add certain tags to a post just let me know! :>
Other Info/About Me:
Like my bio says, I'm a trans boy who uses he/him pronouns :3 I'm 18 and.. I'm not sure what else to put lol. Uh, I'm a furry if that matters lol
I have social anxiety and don't always have my phone/internet available, though that doesn't mean you can't talk to me! It just means I may take some time to respond. But messages are always welcome!! Though it would be nice if you say why your messaging me, whether you have a question or simply want to talk or something else :3
Uh, don't think of me as a content creator, but just some guy sharing stuff he made or wants to talk about. :3
I'm planning on posting Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss stuff* here, though I wouldn't be surprised if I post about other stuff at some point!
*said stuff most likely being the two biggest assholes in the series, Adam and Mammon. My (platonic) beloveds. XD
As I said before, if I ever need to add tags let me know!
I'm not sure what the hell's going on with my romantic orientation. And honestly same with my sexual orientation. (Though I'm not gonna get into my sexuality)
I'm either only aromantic, aromantic and experience alterous attraction, or I'm actually just alloromantic and a bit confused. I don't know. 😭 But with that said, if I ever rant on about a character or say I love them or something, assume it's platonic and not romantic please.
If you read this far, um, thank you :3 And! It's time to loooose yourself loathing! Excuuuse yourself, LET HOPE IN BABY!!! PLAY YOUR CAAAAAAARD, BE WHO YOU AAAAAAAARRREEE!!!!!!!!
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red-shepherds · 2 years
Text
Quick tips on how to engage with art in a meaningful way--by just some guy
Hi! You may be wondering why I've gathered you all here today. Well, I haven't seen any posts about this making the rounds recently, and it's a pretty big thing for me, so I figured I ought to grab my bootstraps and do some hauling, you know? Preface: this is intended to boost interaction with artists that are going to see what you say; don't bother, if someone is reposting their art or the like. As well, unless someone says critique is welcome, don't go for hard critique; that's mean and rude.
Tips and tricks are as follows.
Take a moment to stop scrolling and actually look at the art. There's lots of #content out there, but art isn't exactly the same as a listicle. Someone put time and effort into it, whether it's a lovingly hand-sculpted 3d image of Bowser's cock, or the Amogi as the twelve disciples. It's worth the effort to just look at it for a while.
If you're going to reblog it, try to notice something you really like. This goes more into the analysis side, and analysis is a skill that I'm not equipped to teach for all mediums. If it's a drawing or painting I can though, so think about the composition, the lighting, how the lines or lack of lines work. Do you really like the detail the artist put into that one thing? The outfit a character is in?
Let the artist know in the tags or in your reblog. Yes, we read tags. I'd advise not being playfully rude, unless you know the person and are certain they're okay with it. Your complements don't have to be coherent. It's at this point that you should take any negative comments you have and discard them; if you really, really want to critique the artist, please ask if they're open to that before you do. It's a weird boundary, but a lot of us are just having fun.
You can always say something feral but positive, *if* you're sure it will be recieved right. I'd generally advise that if you and the artist don't speak the same first language, it's a good idea to err on the side of caution. You can tell me you're going to eat my art! But if someone doesn't know what that means, it can be genuinely threatening; that was a problem on...Pixiv, I think, a bit ago?
If you're going to critique an artist, don't just tear them down. Try to do a compliment sandwich--say one nice thing, one thing that needs improved, and another, separate nice thing. Focus on what the art is trying to do, and how it accomplished that, rather than what you think it should be trying to do.
Have fun with it! I know engaging this way can be an absolute pain in the ass, but here's the thing: every piece of art you see took genuine, concentrated effort. It was time and work. We don't put art out there without hope, most times; we aren't robots producing content in an endless, mindless stream. I referred to it above as content, jokingly, but I'm not a content creator, I'm an artist. They mean different things. Please treat art and artists with respect and decency, and please consider letting us know what you think of our art.
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brwnicons · 2 years
Note
×VSC×
AAAAA OKAY OKAY SKSJSJS
Could I request Jesse with a ftm trans reader (or just male reader if you're not comfortable writing for a trans guy reader) that's got like, funky lil habits? They'll do a little jig out if nowhere or start tapping their feet like a duck when excited. Bite him when they're feeling affectionate and rub their face all over Jesse's in another affectionate manner? I think it's just cuz I'm a funky lil autistic guy but I'd love to just headbutt him and tackle him down with a hug as well.
Just kinda. Feral and quirky. I'd ask him to use his hands as my bra just out of nowhere too because I'm like that.
I hope this isn't too confusing aaaaaa 😭😭
×Vexelier×
☆ Of course I'm comfortable with it! I'm trans myself so I love seeing some representation around <3☆
Jesse x Trans!Male Reader
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-> Summary: Jesse and his boyfriend's funky little habits
Headcanons, scenarios. Male reader, Fluff. I can't remember if it's mentioned but reader is trans!
-> Warnings: If I catch you fetishizing mlm relationships or tagging this as yaoi or any homophobic slur you go blocked. Same goes with transphobic behaviour.
Please tell me if you find any mistake!
[☆]
-> You have the purest soul he has ever met.
▪︎ Your habits make his heart melt
▪︎If he sees you doing a little jig while a smile is spread across your face and an improvised melody leaves your lips, he won't be able to resist the need to hug you tightly.
▪︎ "Jesse!", you squeal as his arms embrace you, "You're squeezing me!"
▪︎ The least he wants is to hurt you so he'll stop at the moment and do a quick check, he got worried.
-> Duck feet tapping
▪︎He knows you are pretty energetic so he won't suggest you to be around him when he is working in his office
▪︎But, if you want to stay there, he won't complain either. He just begs you to don't talk so he doesn't get distracted from his work.
▪︎So, when you happen to be around when he's doing paperwork (maybe you wanted to spend time with him or you are just curiously exploring the room) and you're not sat on his lap as usual, you take your time to wander around the room. You head to a dark wooden bookshelf at the side of his room, where your sight meets a silver decorative sword and a couple of gifts you gave him.
▪︎tap...tap...tap -Your taps start, they're are only a few at first and Jesse notices but, since they don't bother him, he doesn't tell you anything. As seconds pass, your sounds get faster- taptaptaptaptapta
▪︎Jesse calls your attention by knocking on the table he is working on with his knuckles and your tapping stops.
▪︎'See something you like?'
▪︎You swing your arms lightly before pointing with your head at your presents laying on the shelf.
▪︎"Those are mine" you say sheepishly
▪︎Jesse follows your gaze and finds what you were talking about. He chuckles softly and shakes his head.
▪︎His hand reaches for his desk drawer and once he opens it, he gives you a "come here" gesture.
▪︎'I carefully keep all of them. I've also go some in the glove compartment in my car for when I'm out' he signs as he shows you a bunch of drawings, little shiny rocks and tiny objects.
▪︎Your tapping starts again, making him chuckle softly. You give him a huge grin before sinking in his arms to give him a big hug, your tapping never ceasing.
-> Ñam -biting him
▪︎He is so confused the first time you do it
▪︎You were laying with him on his designer couch. Jesse was doing something on his computer and your head rested on his lap, your hands busy scrolling through some social media. His left arm was on your face, his hand stroking your cheek gently.
▪︎One time his hand got near your mouth and without thinking, you sank your fangs on his finger. He instantly retired his hand and looked up confused, worried that he might have bothered you.
▪︎"Why have you stopped?"
▪︎'You bit me...'
▪︎"Oh, sorry -Did I hurt you?"
▪︎Once you explain it to him he's completly fine with you giving him little chomps from time to time, he thinks it's cute, you look like a little puppy.
-> Rubbing your face all over his
▪︎The first you did it was probably while you were cuddling in bed, about to go to sleep.
▪︎He thinks it's very cute, and seeing your wide grin while you do it makes it totally worth it.
▪︎Honestly, I think this is his favourite little habit of yours.
▪︎He adopted your gesture and will also rub his face on yours!! He loves doing it when he is tickling you or when you're cuddling.
▪︎It always manages to make you giggle and laugh and he couldn't ask for more
-> Hugs
▪︎There's nothing he loves more than your hugs.
▪︎The moment that he hears the fast tapping on the floor approaching him, he quickly turns to your direction to catch you in his arms and receive your hug
▪︎You'll have to try hard if you want to tackle him, this man's a brick wall
▪︎Alas, if you catch him when he's having a bit less of balance and you succeed in tackling him, he will explode into giggles as he hugs you and rubs your head playfully
You really couldn't dream of a better partner.
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grapesodatozier · 3 years
Text
so close to the real thing (closer than you think)
rating: explicit
word count: 6.8k
summary: Eddie's been pining over Richie for as long as he can remember. He loves everything about Richie; especially how much Richie loves touching him. It's a little inconvenient, though. Eddie copes with his pent up sexual tension by constantly checking a porn blog he's obsessed with on tumblr. This guy has the same type of body as Richie, he talks like Richie, his name is even Richie! It makes it all too easy for Eddie to pretend it really is Richie while getting himself off to all of the blog's content.
You'll never guess what he finds out when he starts sexting this stranger named Richie from his anonymous porn blog.
tags: friends to lovers, porn with feelings, love confessions, dom/sub dynamics, bi dom top richie, gay sub bottom eddie, the most oblivious pining idiots in the world lol we love them
notes: this is one of my more ridiculous ideas but I had so much fun with it lol. also as a note you probably should not approach people on the internet the way they do in this fic, but they're just v enthusiastic and everything here is v consensual!! still tho definitely don't take this indulgent fic as a guide on how to approach real people online lmao. okay have fun!!
read on ao3 or below!!
notsfw under the cut
Eddie Kaspbrak’s friends were his entire world; time spent with them meant everything to him. But he also really valued his alone time. He’d always been the sort who needed time to just sit on a grassy hill and watch the trains go by, to catch up on comics in his room, to get lost in Netflix shows or even just his thoughts as he moseyed around his apartment—one he live in by himself, for when these moods hit. He needed time to himself to unwind. And sometimes he unwound by scrolling through some porn blogs on tumblr with his hand in his pants.
There was one blog that he was particularly fond of. There were other blogs more catered to his personal interests, namely blogs that didn’t feature women like this one did. But there was a good balance of genders represented, so Eddie figured he could just scroll past those posts. This guy was worth it. His pictures were ridiculously hot, and his dirty talk was even hotter.
Also, his name was Richie. Which Eddie refused to acknowledge as part of the draw.
It was harder to ignore tonight. He’d been out with the losers, and Richie had just been so touchy. And there was something about the way he'd been talking; his voice was lower than normal, slower in a way that made Eddie’s stomach flip. And his touches had lingered, his hand squeezing Eddie’s hip slow, then lazily brushing against his ass as he dropped it. Eddie could hardly take it. He brushed it off as Richie just being tired from work, but god, Eddie wanted it to mean more. The hardest part was hiding how much he wanted Richie to keep doing it.
There were so many things Eddie wanted Richie to do to him. He wanted Richie to touch him harder, to grab him by his hips with both hands. Richie’s hands were so big; Eddie just knew Richie could manhandle him so easily, so roughly. He wanted to know what it would feel like to have Richie’s hands all over him, grabbing at his ass and his thighs, holding his wrists down, making him feel so small. While Eddie would never admit it, huffing at every short joke Richie made, but he loved being shorter than Richie. He loved how safe he felt when Richie held him. And he was dying to know how small he would feel with Richie looming above him, or sitting in Richie’s lap, bouncing on his cock. He wanted to hear Richie talking to him in that low, slow voice, with that condescension Eddie did his best to pretend not to be affected by. He wanted Richie to whisper in his ear and call him all those pretty names he always dropped so casually, all those sweet ones and also ones that were a lot meaner. He wanted Richie to want him.
But it was easier to think about it than to ask for it. He knew Richie had way more experience than him. Well, okay, maybe not way more necessarily, but they were starting their third year of college, and he hadn’t wasted any time. Eddie, on the other hand, hadn’t done anything more than hand stuff with someone else. The guys he’d hooked up with were nice enough, and hot enough, but they just… weren’t Richie.
He supposed this guy on tumblr wasn’t Richie either, but at least he was everything else Eddie wanted. None of his hookups had been so, well, dominant, and that was this guy’s whole thing. He was dominant and a top and into guys that looked like Eddie. He even kind of talked like Richie, and he was apparently pining over his best friend, just like Eddie was. It had him completely smitten. Plus, internet-Richie’s crush had brown eyes like Eddie, and he ran track, just like Eddie did. Internet-Richie had posted once about his dick getting hard watching his friend at his track meet, and Eddie had come so hard that night, his track shorts around his ankles, imagining his Richie thinking those things about him.
Eddie was in bed now, in nothing but his boxers and one of Richie’s old shirts that had been Eddie’s for a while now. Still reeling from the way Richie had been acting that night, he logged into his porn account on his phone and scrolled through his dash for a grand total of thirty seconds before going immediately to internet-Richie’s blog. A thrill went through Eddie’s body when he saw that he had just posted. He’d written, “god my friends gonna fuckn kill me with that ass, i wanna plow him so bad” then reblogged it and added, “reminder that my asks and dms are always open if any pretty needy little subs need help getting off. please come be sluts in my messages.” Eddie’s breath caught in his throat when he saw that there was a picture, too, one of him gripping his hard cock, his boxers pulled down just enough for Eddie to see the dark hair around the base of his cock. Eddie moaned at the sight. His cock was so nice, so long and thick and pink. And fuck, his fingers. They were so long and slim, almost as nice as his-Richie’s.
Eddie scrolled a little farther down, his heart racing. There were a lot of reblogs, but some original posts here and there, things like, “what i wouldn’t do to have a pretty guy drooling all over my cock rn,” and, “in the mood to get someone dick drunk. wanna fuck a someone so hard they forget their own name.” One that made Eddie nearly choke said, “want someone i can pump my come into whenever i want, over and over again. want a sub i can keep full of my come all the fuckn time.” That post had Eddie getting out his lube.
It also had him thinking about internet-Richie’s most recent post, his post about his DMs being open.
Eddie bit his lip and thought about it. He’d sent internet-Richie some asks before from his porn blog (his blog didn’t have his name on it, just the teddy bear emoji, since he privately thought the teddy/Eddie rhyme was fun and clever, and also it was cute), and he’d seemed plenty happy enough to respond then. Still, it felt like a much bigger step to DM him, to talk to him just one on one. But the more he read his posts, the more he thought about his-Richie and how he’d touched Eddie that night, the easier it was to convince himself to shoot his shot with this stranger.
Eddie just messaged him a simple, “hi,” with a heart emoji. It was innocent enough, but his heart was still racing.
Internet-Richie responded a lot faster than Eddie was expecting. Honestly he hadn’t been expecting a response at all. But he said:
hiya cutie (; ive been hoping youd message me
Eddie flushed. He couldn’t help but hear cutie in his-Richie’s voice—especially given how often Richie used the nickname. really? he typed back.
fuck yes, ur cute little messages make me so hard. i can tell ur a pretty little thing just from the way you type
Eddie was blushing deep. Pretty little thing. That was hotter than it should’ve been. He wanted his Richie to talk to him like that, in that deep, sleepy voice.
there’s no way you can tell that from some messages :P, Eddie sent.
His heart stopped at the next messages internet-Richie sent.
oh, u dont think so?
why dont u send me some pics to prove me wrong (;
Oh my god, Eddie thought, his breath coming short. His head swam at the thought of sending this guy nudes, of showing himself off to someone who clearly wanted to see him, who would know how to take care of him and fuck him the way he liked, a guy with his crush’s fucking name and body type and hands. It had Eddie’s cock hard and leaking, and he slowly slid a finger inside of himself.
But just because the thought turned him on didn’t mean he was gonna send this stranger what he wanted so easily, even if he desperately wanted to.
you’d like that, wouldn’t you?
He fingered himself open as he waited for a response, working his way up to two fingers. It was nearly impossible to ignore his cock, but he didn’t want to come before the conversation even had a chance to start.
fuck ya i would, internet-Richie responded. Then, in a second message, whats wrong baby? you shy? ill show u mine ;)
Eddie's breath caught. God, this guy even made stupid shit sound hot, just like Eddie’s Richie. This was unreal.
i’ve seen yours, Eddie pointed out.
ya and you musta liked it if ur messaging me rn
Eddie bit his lip. ...maybe
aw thats cute sweetheart. u know i can see all the needy little tags you add when u reblog my stuff right?
Eddie blushed. He’d kind of always hoped he’d read them, but he never thought he actually did. i didn’t know you read those
oh ya, read them, jerk off to them. bit of a size queen, aren’t you? ;) it’s cute. makes me so fuckn hard when u talk abt how u want me to fill you up
Eddie whimpered out loud, sliding a third finger into himself. Fuck, he wanted that cock inside of him so bad. But right now one of his toys would have to do, once he was stretched out enough. He sped up his fingers, getting impatient. Gathering up all of his horny courage, he sent, show me.
what, no please? only good boys who use their manners get dick pics babydoll
Eddie pouted and whined to himself, making quick work of sliding his hot pink vibrator inside of himself—well, as quickly as he could without hurting himself. He moaned as it filled him up, making pleasure spread deep through his body. Slowly pumping it in and out, he reached for his phone. please, he typed, please let me see? wanna know what to picture while i fuck myself with my vibrator. He even added the wide eyed pouting emoji to really milk the whole begging thing. He knew he’d been playing a little coy, but now with the way internet-Richie was talking to him he was getting desperate.
well fuck baby since ur begging ;)
Eddie held his breath as he waited for the picture, slowly rocking his toy in and out, savoring the feeling. He wished it was Richie doing it, wished it was his cock. The lines between which Richie blurred; he wanted to get fucked by either of them, both of them.
What Eddie received when his phone lit up was not a picture, but a video. It was short, just a few seconds of Richie’s hand dragging wetly, smoothly over his cock, but it had Eddie drooling. The room was dark, so he’d used a flash, and it made the mix of what Eddie assumed was precome and spit glisten as the swollen head of Richie’s cock disappeared and reappeared from behind his fingers. Eddie must’ve played it at least five times, fucking himself a little faster, before remembering to say something back. And to take a video of his own. fuck, I want you so bad, want you to fucking ruin me, he wrote back. A part of him couldn’t believe how openly desperate he was being, but he found that he liked it; he liked the way it made him blush, he liked the way it felt to beg, to ask for what he wanted.
Richie’s response came fast: show me kitten. show me how you want me to fuck your pretty little ass.
Eddie moaned at the pet name; casual little nicknames were such a weakness for him. He was already so far gone, just picturing Richie’s cock inside of him, picturing him stroking his cock to thoughts of Eddie. The attention had his cock hard and leaking as he thrust his vibrator even deeper inside of himself, pumping it in and out a few more times before rolling over and getting on his hands and knees. It was hard to take a video from this angle, but he wanted to show off his ass and hide his face. Plus, there was something so hot about having his ass in the air and his face shoved in his pillow, looking like the perfect image of someone desperate to be fucked. He loved the way it made him feel, loved the thought of being so open for someone. For Richie.
He ended up shooting a short video as well, about ten seconds of him sliding his vibrator slowly in and out of himself, letting out soft little moans. He was pretty pleased with the way it turned out, his hole pink and smooth and wet as it stretched around his toy. The angle was a little weird, showing a lot of his room once or twice when his hand slipped a little, but overall he thought his ass looked amazing, if he did say so himself. He sent it and said, feels so good. do you want me to go faster?
As he sent it, he got settled on his back, forcing himself to go slow as he fucked himself while he waited for internet-Richie’s response. It was taking longer than before, and Eddie was getting antsy; it was so hard to drag it out, to not get ahead of himself. But whatever Richie was doing, Eddie knew it would be worth the wait. Still, he pouted as his cock ached, begging for attention.
He almost jumped out of his skin when he heard a knock at the door.
He groaned to himself and stayed put, fucking himself even slower as he waited for whoever it was to leave. But then the knocking continued, loud and incessant and obnoxious, and Eddie knew exactly who it was. He also knew he wasn’t going to go away any time soon, which honestly made him smile and blush. Richie had terrible timing, but Eddie would never be upset to see him.
Reluctantly, he slowly slid the toy out and pulled on his shorts, leaving his shirt off. He still had a pretty obvious boner, but his horny brain did not mind the idea of Richie seeing it. So he strode lazily down the hall, shouting a performatively annoyed, “I’m coming!” Finally, he opened the door, cocking his hip to the side and giving Richie an expectant look. “Can I help you?” he asked, a small smile dancing around the corner of his lips. He had to fight off a smirk at the wide eyed look Richie gave him as he ran his eyes over Eddie’s body.
“Fuck,” he muttered lowly, his eyes trained on Eddie’s cock, which was getting even harder the more Richie stared. Eddie bit his lip and grinned a little, making doe eyes at Richie. But Richie didn’t meet his gaze—instead he brushed past Eddie, his mouth still hanging open as he made his way urgently toward Eddie’s bedroom.
“Richie?” Eddie asked, a little let down that Richie’s hands weren’t all over him right now. But hey, if he was heading to Eddie’s bedroom he figured that was at least the right direction. He closed his front door and followed Richie into his room, where he found him staring at the bright pink vibrator on the bed. As confident and horny as Eddie was feeling, that still made him blush. He was only human. Crossing his arms, he said, bashful now, “I was kind of in the middle of something.”
Richie looked over at him, his cheeks bright red under his freckles. Then he got a glimmer of that trademark shit-eating grin on his face. “Eds, you fucking slut,” he said, sounding both delighted and breathless. “You are so fucking hot.”
Eddie flushed and tried not to squirm, but he couldn’t help but press his legs together, his eyes brightening. Fuck, was this actually happening? Shit, he needed to think of something witty to say. “You gonna do anything about it?” Okay, that kinda sounded like a corny porn, but he had to give himself credit for even being able to form words just after his lifelong crush and personal wet dream had just admitted his attraction to him.
“I think I already have been,” Richie said, still grinning.
Eddie cocked an eyebrow at him. He couldn’t help but smile back. “Oh yeah? How do you figure that?”
Eddie was expecting a confession. He was expecting something along the lines of you think I don’t notice how you look at me? or did you really think those were casual touches earlier? What he was not expecting was for Richie to unlock his phone and hold it up, showing Eddie the video he had just taken, the video he’d sent to internet-Richie.
Oh. Oh. Oh fuck.
“Oh my god, that’s you?” Eddie cried in disbelief.
“You’re telling me you didn’t recognize this dick?” Richie asked, swaggering over to Eddie, clearly enjoying himself.
“How did you recognize it was me?”
Richie nodded toward the Thundercats poster on Eddie’s wall, then to the model train that sat on his dresser. “What other guy has decor like that and the ass to match?”
Eddie grinned and shook his head. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Well pardon me for not being especially eloquent when I’ve just learned that the guy I’ve been masturbating to since I learned how to and been in love with for even longer has been masturbating to me too.”
Eddie’s eyes went wide, all thoughts of getting fucked leaving for a moment. “You’re in love with me?” he asked, his voice as soft as his smile.
Richie was not a bashful person, but the little laugh he let out just then was close to it. “Have been my whole life, but thanks for finally noticing.”
Eddie shook his head and stepped closer, until he had to crane his head up to meet Richie’s gaze. “I love you too.”
Richie’s eyes widened behind his thick frames. Eddie had only seen that look in Richie’s eyes a few times before, but he never wanted to lose sight of it again. He always wanted Richie to look at him like that. But then Richie was closing his eyes and leaning down. It only took Eddie a second to get with the program, drinking in the moment just a little longer before letting his own eyes fall shut as he pressed his lips against Richie’s.
It started gentle enough, if deep and passionate and intentional. But then Richie’s hands were on Eddie’s bare waist, skin against skin, and Eddie was gasping into Richie’s mouth, his hands coming up and resting against Richie’s chest. He curled his fingers into Richie’s shirt as Richie ran his tongue over Eddie’s lips, just before pulling away. He laughed at Eddie’s indignant little whine.
“Oh, you mean you don’t want me to take off my shirt right now?” he smirked as Eddie tried to pull him closer by the offending fabric. Huffing, Eddie conceded and let go long enough to let Richie pull the shirt off over his head.
“Oh,” he said softly, his voice a little, awed moan as he drank in Richie’s chest. It wasn’t like Richie had never been shirtless in front of Eddie before, but Eddie had never felt like he was allowed to really look at Richie all those times. But now he could; now he could touch. And he did, running his fingers over Richie’s smooth, warm skin, over his acne scars and blackheads and freckles. “Fuck, Richie,” he sighed before pressing his lips to Richie’s collarbones, trailing them all over Richie’s beautiful chest.
Richie gave a breathless, almost shy laugh as he stroked Eddie’s hair. “Damn, Eds, never pegged you as a tits guy.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Eddie giggled, bringing his lips back to Richie’s. They both smiled into it, getting lost for a moment as Richie’s hands slid slowly down Eddie’s sides. His hands lingered on Eddie’s hips for a moment before he slid them further down and grabbed at Eddie’s ass, making him gasp.
“Is that any way to talk to the guy who’s about to rail you ‘til you can’t walk?”
“What’re you gonna do about it?” Eddie asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Spank me?”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Richie smirked. He gave Eddie’s ass a playful smack, making Eddie gasp again and fall into him, needing more. Richie’s voice was dripping with adoration as he purred, “Little brat,” and pulled Eddie against him, kissing him again. Eddie went with it easily and happily parted his lips to let Richie lick into his mouth. Richie had one hand gripping Eddie’s jaw and the other on his ass, touching him in a way that exuded a command Eddie was desperate to follow. God, Eddie knew Richie had big hands, but they felt huge on him like this. It was dizzyingly hot. And the way Richie’s tongue was teasing his had Eddie’s knees going weak. His dick was throbbing in his shorts, aching to finish what he’d started, what had been interrupted. When he thought about it all—about playing with himself for Richie, about the video Richie had sent him, about all those things Richie had said about filling Eddie up—he felt himself clench down on nothing, desperate to get fucked. Desperate to feel Richie’s cock so deep inside of him.
“Richie,” he whined into the kiss, pulling on Richie’s belt loops, “please.” He pressed himself urgently against Richie and rutted shamelessly against his thigh.
“Fuck, you’re a needy little thing, aren’t you?” His voice was cocky and teasing, but there was an apparent undercurrent of wonder there as well.
Eddie shoved his face into Richie’s neck and whined, grabbing onto Richie’s wrists without even knowing what his goal was. “Richie,” he whimpered, sounding pitiful and ruined already.
“What do you want, baby?” Richie’s voice made it clear that he was enjoying seeing Eddie this wrecked, and that just made Eddie even harder. “Come on, tell me, use your words.”
Eddie squirmed as Richie held him close, but still not touching him in any relieving way. “I need you inside,” Eddie said, his voice high and soft as he squirmed in Richie’s grip. “God, please, Richie, need you to fuck me. Fuck me so hard I can’t even think. Fuck me like I’m your little toy.”
Eddie could hardly believe the words coming out of his mouth, and judging by the gasp he heard Richie let out, he’d caught Richie off guard too. But if the hard bulge in his jeans that brushed up against Eddie was any indication, he was apparently just as turned on as Eddie was. Besides, Eddie knew from his blog that Richie was really into that sort of thing too—and, apparently, really into the idea of doing those things with Eddie. The realization that Richie had been saying all those filthy things about him had him grinding against him with even more fervor, kissing his neck with a heated confidence. Richie moaned, and Eddie could feel the warmth of it spreading through him. “Yeah, sweetheart? You want to feel me inside you? You think you’re ready for me?”
“Yes,” Eddie sighed, looking up at Richie with wide, desperate eyes. He shivered at the new look in Richie’s eyes, the blue nearly entirely eclipsed by how wide his pupils were. He looked hungry for Eddie; Eddie wanted to feel it. “‘M ready, Richie, please, so open for you.” He looked to the toy on his bed pointedly, but Richie only gave a deep laugh.
“Oh honey, that’s cute that you think that little thing is gonna have you ready for my cock.” Eddie’s breath caught; that toy wasn’t small. Before he could gather his scattered brain enough to react, Richie was scooping him up and tossing him on the bed, the toy falling forgotten to the floor. Richie moved Eddie onto his back, and Eddie went happily, pliantly. Richie’s fingers were cool against Eddie’s burning skin as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of Eddie’s shorts, slowly dragging them over his hips and down his legs, tossing them to the floor. Eddie’s cock was dripping with precome, his chest flushed a bright red as he squirmed under Richie’s gaze. Eddie been dreaming of Richie manhandling him like this for he didn’t even know how long; he couldn’t help the way he reacted. And he especially couldn’t help the pleased little sound he made when Richie murmured, “God, you’re gorgeous, Eds.” Then Richie was grabbing him by the ankles, gently but firmly spreading Eddie’s legs, and Eddie let out the most pathetic, genuine moan he’d ever heard. “Fuck, baby, you sound pretty. You like when I spread you open?” Richie asked. He was smirking down at Eddie, but Eddie could see how flushed he was, could see the thrilled awe in his dark, hungry eyes as Eddie nodded.
“Richie, please,” Eddie whimpered. “I need you so bad.” He sat up, reaching for Richie’s belt, but Richie easily pressed him back against the mattress with a large hand on the center of his chest. The confidence in Richie’s dominance took Eddie’s breath away, and he stayed right where he was, nice and obedient, as he watched Richie get off the bed and slowly undo his belt, then his button and zipper. He took his time dragging his jeans and boxers off, enough time to let Eddie’s eyes linger on the reveal of the dark hair under Richie’s waistband. Then Richie’s cock was bouncing up against his stomach, hard and flushed and fucking long. Eddie moaned at the sight and fisted the sheets underneath him. He wanted so badly to get his mouth on Richie, to breathe him in and be nice and good for Richie on his knees. But he was also desperate to get fucked; his hole clenched down on nothing at the thought, and then it was all he could think about again. “Richie,” he repeated, whining now as he reached for him. “Stop being such a tease.”
Richie laughed as he moved easily out of Eddie’s grip and climbed on top of him. Eddie gasped softly at the sight of Richie above him, his dark curls surrounding his face, his full, pink lips pulled into the most beautiful smile Eddie had ever seen in his life. He ran his hands over Richie’s chest and sides, marveling at the fact that this was really happening. Then, his eyes flickering down, he tentatively brought his hand to Richie’s cock.
“Oh, fuck,” they said, both at the same time, making them giggle together.
“Fuck, Eds, your pretty little hand looks so cute wrapped around my cock,” Richie teased in a low, rough voice. Eddie shivered; he couldn’t tell if Richie was praising him or degrading him, but either way it made his head fuzzy.
“‘M not that little,” Eddie grumbled out of habit. But he was clearly breathless. He’d never been good at pretending not to like Richie’s compliments, however teasing.
“Aw, but you are, baby,” Richie cooed, nuzzling his nose against Eddie’s and pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. “You’re so cute and tiny for me. I don’t even know if we’ll be able to fit my cock inside you.”
“I can,” Eddie whined, both indignant and impatient. He bucked his hips up, but Richie held him down. He gasped when he felt the warm, soft skin of Richie’s cock press against his stomach. Looking down, he saw that Richie had his cock lying on Eddie’s stomach, showing just how deep he would be once he was inside Eddie.
“You sure about that, babydoll?” While the teasing note was still there, Richie’s voice got noticeably softer as he said, “I don’t wanna hurt you.”
Eddie’s chest swelled at that. Cupping Richie’s face in his hands, he insisted, “I can take it.” Then he reached down and took Richie in his hand, glowing with pride when Richie let out a low moan. “Richie, please, I want you so bad.”
“Okay, baby,” Richie agreed, turning his head to kiss Eddie’s palm. “Fuck, I want you, too.” But he stalled. “Have you ever… like, been fucked before?”
Eddie flushed. “Well, not by someone else, but I have some toys. I’m not gonna break, Richie.” He huffed, but the way Richie was looking at him soothed any ruffled feathers.
“I’m your first?” His smile was soft, and while his eyes glittered, there was nothing teasing about his tone.
“I didn’t wanna do it with anyone else,” Eddie mumbled. He tried to look away, but Richie pulled him into a kiss.
“Fuck, I never thought you’d want me,” he chuckled. “Sorry, that was depressing, I just mean I can’t believe we didn’t do this sooner, you know?”
Eddie beamed, a small, giddy giggle dancing on his lips. “Well it’ll happen sooner if you stop talking so much.” But his smile, and all of the little kisses he planted on Richie’s freckled shoulders told Richie that Eddie never wanted him to stop talking.
“Alright, alright, sheesh, I know I’m hot but you don’t gotta rush me.” Eddie was still giggling when Richie kissed him, and he could feel that Richie was smiling too. “Where’s your lube?”
Eddie stretched his hand out and patted the bed for a moment, searching. After what was probably only four seconds but felt like an eternity, he finally found the bottle and handed it eagerly to Richie. “Oh, right,” Richie smirked, “you’re already wet for me, aren’t you?” Eddie moaned as Richie swiped his fingers over Eddie’s slick hole, pressing in just a bit. His fingers went in easily, and he pumped them slowly, drawing little, breathy moans out of Eddie. Richie’s fingers were a lot longer and thicker than his own, and they felt amazing, but they weren’t what he wanted in that moment.
“Richie, fuck me,” he whined.
“Aw, no please? Again?” Richie tsked and shook his head, curling his fingers against Eddie’s prostate, making him cry out. “I told you, sweetheart, only good boys who use their manners get fucked.”
“Please,” Eddie cried. He rocked his hips and grabbed at Richie’s shoulders, at his arms, not even sure what his goal was there other than to get Richie closer, to get his attention, to show him how desperate he was. “Please fuck me, please.” He sounded pathetic begging like this, but that just made him harder. And it made Richie’s pupils even wider as he slid his fingers out of Eddie and pressed a kiss to his lips.
“Good boy,” he purred. Eddie moaned and arched into Richie’s touch, but he only gave Eddie one more kiss on his cheek before pulling back and covering his cock in lube. Eddie watched, entranced, as Richie’s hand moved smoothly over his cock, glistening and slick. Then Richie was gently spreading Eddie’s legs even further and pressing the head of his cock against Eddie’s hole.
“Yes,” Eddie whimpered brokenly, grasping at the sheets beneath him. “Richie, please.” Meeting his gaze, he said softly, “I need you.”
“I’ve got you,” Richie assured him in a voice that made Eddie feel like he was glowing. Richie took Eddie’s hand in his and entwined their fingers, using his other hand to guide his cock inside of Eddie, who gasped at the feeling. God, he couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t believe his first time was going to be with his favorite person. He couldn’t believe he was finally getting exactly what he wanted. Love flooded through him, warm and perfect, somehow both soothing and electrifying as he watched Richie’s face. Eddie’s mouth dropped as Richie pressed into him, deeper and deeper and still fucking deeper, until finally Richie let out a low moan and Eddie felt absolutely breathless. The stretch was intense, and he held onto Richie tightly as he caught his breath. “Are you alright?” Richie asked. His voice was strained, but the care and concern in it was clear. “You don’t have to take all of it if it’s too much.”
Eddie wanted to laugh at the remark or roll his eyes, but with how breathless and dizzied by pleasure he already was, he had to admit Richie had a point. “Just need a minute,” he gasped. Richie ran a soothing hand over Eddie’s skin, helping him even out his breathing and relax. The feeling of Richie’s cock twitching in anticipation inside of him had him letting out little moans as he adjusted, getting more and more used to the feeling until he felt comfortable enough to tell Richie he could move. Richie kissed him before he did, his lips soft against Eddie’s, a reassuring weight. Eddie breathed in sharply as Richie pulled back, grabbing at Richie’s shoulders.
Richie immediately stopped. “You okay, baby?” he asked, caressing Eddie’s face.
Eddie wanted to melt. Richie was always touching him, always jokingly flirting with him, but this unabashed concern and, well, love had previously been reserved for dire situations, like panic attacks or injuries. Eddie couldn’t help the dopey smile that bloomed on his face as he tilted his chin up and kissed Richie. “I’m okay,” he said breathlessly. “It’s just a little different from my vibrator.” They both gave a shaky laugh as Richie nuzzled his nose against Eddie’s.
“Better, I hope?” he grinned.
“Can’t tell yet,” Eddie retorted. Another snarky comment was on the tip of his tongue when Richie pulled his hips further back, effectively sucking all the air—and attitude—from Eddie’s chest. And then Richie was pushing back in, and Eddie let out a moan he couldn’t have faked if he tried, relaxing back into the mattress as his eyes fell shut. It was the best thing he’d ever felt, pleasure and relief flooding through his body. They’d been building up this tension for years; Eddie had figured it would feel good to break it, but it really felt magical, like something had just clicked into place. Feeling Richie inside of him, rocking his hips carefully, feeling Richie twitch as he tried not to lose control had Eddie’s head reeling. Eddie’s eyes fluttered open, focusing on Richie above him, on how flushed his face was. When Richie met his eye, pressing in deep, Eddie let out a small, “Fuck.”
“Yeah? Does that feel good, sweetheart?”
Richie was smirking as he said it, but there was something else sparkling in his eyes. Something giddy and awed. Something that made Eddie sigh dreamily, “I love you.”
Richie’s eyes widened for a moment before he pressed his lips firmly against Eddie’s, his hands roaming over Eddie’s body like he couldn’t choose where to put them, where to touch him. “I love you so much,” he beamed, pressing a few more kisses to Eddie’s cheeks. Eddie giggled at the feeling, but then Richie’s hips moved just a little faster, pressing him in just a little deeper, and he was back to melting under Richie’s touch, clinging to him as he rocked his hips with Richie’s. “Fuck, you’re so amazing, baby, so fucking beautiful. You look so good like this, holy shit.”
Eddie smiled almost drunkenly at Richie’s ability to ramble even when blowing Eddie’s mind. “Feels so good,” he moaned, his voice breathy and just a little bit higher than normal. He wrapped his legs around Richie’s waist. “Please, Richie, please.”
“Fuck, baby, wanna make you feel like this all the fucking time,” Richie groaned as he picked up the pace. Eddie whined in pleasure at the change, and that just spurred Richie to go faster, harder, until he was well and truly fucking Eddie, both of them moaning with every thrust.
“Oh my god,” Eddie cried, “ohmygodohmygodhmygod, oh fuck, Richie, please.” It felt so amazing, Richie fucking into him like this, but he needed that little bit more. His cock was throbbing desperately, achingly hard; he needed to feel Richie’s hand on him. “Richie, please,” he whimpered, “please, please touch me. I need you, I need you so bad, please, Richie.” Eddie was pouting now, grabbing aimlessly at Richie, his legs still wrapped tight around him.
“Fuck, you’re so hard for me,” Richie marveled, his voice sweet and condescending as he wrapped his hand around Eddie’s cock. Eddie nearly screamed at the contact, his back arching off the bed. Richie laughed a little, which just made Eddie even harder. The way Richie spread his precome over his cock, twisting his wrist just so as he stroked him had that familiar tension coiling in his lower stomach. “Aw, does that feel good? You gonna come on my cock, kitten?”
“Fuck, yes!” Eddie screamed. He gripped at the sheets as Richie stroked him, his voice washing over Eddie, mixing with the pleasure of Richie’s touch, of his thrusts. “Yes, yes, yes, please let me come, please, please, please.”
“That’s a good boy,” Richie purred, and Eddie could feel himself tipping over the edge at the words, at how low and affected Richie’s voice was. He groaned out, “Come on my cock like a good boy, princess,” and pure pleasure crashed over Eddie like a wave. He arched his back and cried out as he came, his moans filling the room as he squirmed under Richie, grabbed at him, at the sheets. It was fucking ethereal. He felt somehow so in tune with his body and yet so detached, like he was floating. He was barely cognizant of what Richie was saying, but when he put the sounds together and realized Richie had just said, panting, “Fuck, baby, gonna come,” Eddie felt like a live wire again.
“In me,” he said urgently. His mind was still a little too scattered for full sentences, but he knew what he wanted. God, he felt like he needed it. Like he needed to feel that connected to Richie. “Richie, come inside me, please.”
Richie apparently didn’t need to be told twice; he let out a moaned, “Oh, fuck,” before burying his face in Eddie’s neck, his breathy moans like music in Eddie’s ear. And then, as Eddie was coming down from his own high, he felt the holiest thing in the world: Richie’s cock, twitching inside of him, then his warm come filling Eddie up. It was unreal, being this close to him. Richie clutching at him as he came. It was even better than the little fantasies Eddie occasionally allowed himself. Richie was here, in his arms, pressing kisses to his neck as he caught his breath. Eddie was stroking his hair and rubbing his back as Richie nuzzled into him. Richie’s skin pressed against his skin, his legs wrapped around Richie’s waist, then falling to his sides, but still pressed to him. Still keeping him close. There wasn’t a single thought in his head that wasn’t about Richie.
Richie pulled him from his dreamy haze with light kisses pressed up his jaw, then over his cheeks. Eddie giggled at the onslaught of affection, still reeling from how fucking hot and euphoric what they had just done together had been. But he happily accepted Richie’s kisses, his heart bursting, then racing as Richie pulled back to look in his eyes. “Holy, fuck,” Richie beamed, his face flushed and blue eyes hooded from the weight of his orgasm, even as they sparkled.
“I know,” Eddie said, returning Richie’s grin as he basked in the surreality of having Richie on top of him, his dorky yet charming smile framed by lips that were red and swollen because of Eddie. His glasses were knocked askew, and Eddie instinctively reached up to fix them. With a sense of wonder, he realized that his touch was allowed to linger this time. He ran his fingers down Richie’s cheekbones, over his jaw, cupped his cheeks. “I love you,” he said. The words spilled out over his lips like he couldn’t stand not to say them. And while it made his heart race a little to say it out loud now that the adrenaline and tension was all worked through, it felt even better this time when Richie’s face softened and he nuzzled his nose against Eddie’s.
“I love you so fucking much.” Richie’s voice rarely got that soft, that sincere; it felt like a blanket wrapping around Eddie. It felt safe, secure. It felt like a promise. And if there was anyone in the world Eddie knew he could trust, it was Richie. That feeling of everything coming together came back to Eddie as he lay there under Richie, their lips moving together, feeling light as a feather now that everything was finally out in the open.
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bubblesuga · 3 years
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Mahina || Part 1
Summary: Jungkook couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something drawing him to you. Like the moon tugs at the tides, he needed to be beside you. genre: smut, fluff, angst word count: 4,626 tags: idol!au, fantasy!au
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When Jungkook awoke this morning, something was... different.
He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but the air in his room seemed to have shifted slightly. He felt lighter on his feet, a sudden bounce to his step while he pulled himself off of the bed and towards the bathroom.
He brushes his teeth as usual, carefully scrubbing his tongue and admiring his reflection in the mirror. The eyebrow piercing was a good edition, he thinks. It accentuates his high brow and sparkles underneath even the dimmest light. Spritzing himself with cologne, he opens the bathroom door just in time.
"Jungkook, I made breakfast! Hurry up!"
Smiling to himself, he trots down the stairs of the far too large penthouse he and his band mates bought a couple years ago. He doesn't mind sharing with 6 other people, though. Having grown up with no siblings, he enjoys the dynamics at play when he speaks to the members. They're all his brothers, co-workers, family... He couldn't have asked for a better turn out when it came to finding a career path.
Yoongi is standing in the kitchen when Jungkook walks in, the smell of pork and kimchi filling his nose. Thanking his hyung, he grabs a bowl and starts filling up.
"You seem happy this morning," Yoongi raises an eyebrow, "what's going on?"
"I don't know," Jungkook shrugs, "I just woke up in a really good mood. I feel like--" he takes a bit of his food, then speaks with his mouth full, "--something amazing is going to happen today."
"We just have rehearsals?" Yoongi's statement comes off as more of a question.
"Exactly." Jungkook says, continuing to munch on his food. Yoongi looks at the younger man and shakes his head, continuing to fry meat for the rest of the members.
"Hey, did Namjoon come home last night?" Seokjin asks as he walks into the kitchen. He takes a spot beside Jungkook on the counter, reaching into his bowl and grabbing a piece of pork belly. Jungkook attempts to push his hand away but Seokjin smacks it and grabs the meat anyway.
Yoongi shakes his head again, "Nah. He stayed at the studio last night, said something about a last minute inspiration."
Jungkook has noticed Namjoon's lack of attentiveness recently. It seems as though his head is always filled with potential themes and lyrics and beats, much more so than even in the early days of the band. He's curious about his inspiration as of late but Namjoon doesn't seem to want to give away his methods any time soon.
"He's been doing that a lot lately." Jungkook thinks outloud.
"More power to him," Seokjin says, "man works his ass off and it benefits all of us."
Yeah, it definitely does.
~*~*~
"5, 6, 7-"
Hoseok's counting is cut off by the music blasting again. It's the third run through of the new choreography, Jungkook is center and carefully watches the rest of his hyungs in the mirror. He moves to the left, following Hoseok's lead and smiling as he notices a mis-step on Jimin's part. Jimin throws his head back and yells, lifting his shirt up and wiping some of the sweat that's accumulated on his brow.
"It's okay, Jiminie," Hoseok sings, "this shit is hard."
Seokjin nods in agreement, "Yeah, what the hell happened to a laid back choreography for this come back?"
"It's the last one of the year. We gotta go out with a bang." Jungkook turns back to look at Namjoon, who chugs water in the corner of the room. "Speaking of big come backs, are you working on your mixtape?"
Namjoon laughs, "Nah, definitely not. I'm trying to get a couple more songs for the album."
"Don't we have like 14 tracks?" Taehyung speaks for the first time since rehearsal started.
"16 is better than 14." Namjoon smiles, listening to Hoseok as he calls everyone over again.
"One more time. 5, 6-"
It's then that the doors burst open and Hyun enters in. "And this is the rehearsal room containing the 7 men you will be photographing."
Jungkook's eyes travel to the person his manager is talking to, and he has to hold back a gasp. He feels the way his jaw drops, but he's unable to close his mouth while he looks at you. God, you're gorgeous. Your hair cascades down your back and your clothes cling to your body in all the right ways. Jungkook struggles to tear his eyes away, but once he sees your smile he realizes there's no way he can turn away. You're literally glowing, with god-like shining eyes. Who are you?
"Boys, this is _____. She's in charge of photography and will be around to film Bangtan Bombs, behind the scenes, or anything you all want filmed and made into content."
Jungkook repeats your name in his head five times. He whispers it to himself once while everyone else heads to you to shake your hand. Jungkook stands back, finally blinking his eyes.
You step forward after having shook the hands of everyone else, "And you're Jungkook," you smile again, "I like your tattoos. Glad you're finally willing to show them."
"T- tattoos..." Jungkook mutters pathetically as he takes your outstretched hand. You giggle, shaking his hand enthusiastically.
"Well, anyway. It was nice to meet you all. I'm excited to work closely with every one of you." your words are met with a chorus of 'same!' from everyone except for Jungkook.
Hyun puts a hand on your shoulder and leads you out of the room, continuing on the tour of the HYBE building. Jungkook stares after you, the doorway now long empty but he couldn't look away. You were, by far, the most beautiful woman he has ever come across. With your simple torn jeans and black t-shirt, he feels you could pull off anything you put on your body.
It's not until Yoongi speaks does Jungkook finally tear his eyes away, "Could you have been any creepier?"
"What?"
Jimin bursts into laughter, his frustration with the choreography long gone, "You were-" he takes a deep breath in between laughter, "you were staring at her like she was the last woman on the planet!"
"W- what?" Jungkook stammers.
Jimin doesn't respond, only laughing louder as he falls to the ground. Jungkook can see the hidden smirks of the rest of the members, turning his to look at everyone, "What the fuck just happened?"
"Love at first sight?" Taehyung suggests.
"More like love at first drool." Seokjin begins laughing before he even finishes his sentence, causing the rest of the members to groan at his joke.
Jungkook doesn't react to Seokjin though, as he turns to look back at the empty doorway. If love at first sight is a real thing, Jungkook just experienced it to the fullest extent.
~*~*~
Jungkook manages to continue the rest of rehearsal without a problem, except for the way his mind kept traveling back to you. Saying your name in his head again, he washes up in the gym showers. He thinks back to the way your skin seemed to be literally glowing to him, and your bright white teeth hypnotizing him.
Never in his life has he had such a short conversation with someone that had such an impact. He wants to learn everything about you, your passions, the music you like, the books you read. He hopes that you enjoy some of the same things he does, so he has an excuse to talk to you.
Though his interest in you is certainly piqued, he has to keep in mind that you are, essentially, his employee, and fantasizing about your employee is more than inappropriate.
Fantasizing might not be the right word, but he can't help and imagine conversations between the two of you. Your voice is so pretty, it's light but carries through the room. You make sure your presence is known, though with the way you shine you didn't have to try hard. He smiles to himself, closing his eyes and rinsing off the conditioner from hair. Then, he wonders what your hair looks like when it's wet.
Okay, Jungkook. That's enough.
He shakes the water off his head and wraps a towel around his body. Exiting the shower, he realizes he forgot his bag in the dance room and sighs. Checking the time on his phone, he realizes that it's after 9 pm. The odds of anyone other than the members being here is pretty slim so he can just walk his way to the rehearsal room and change in there, right?
Right.
Tightening the towel around his waist, he walks out of the gym bathroom and strolls down the hall. He scrolls through his phone while he walks, rounding the corner and hearing your voice.
"Thank you, Mr. Lee. I'm very excited to properly start tomorrow."
"We're excited to have you," Jungkook peeks his head around the corner and watches Hyun bow to you, "your work is incredible and I know Taehyung in particular loves your shooting style."
What? Taehyung knows her? Jungkook must have missed that earlier when he couldn't stop staring at you.
"Yeah! It still blows my mind that one of the bangtan boys followed my work," you let out a small, somewhat embarrassed giggle, "thank god for Instagram."
You and Hyun share a laugh, followed by a goodbye. Jungkook gasps as he sees you turn in his direction, rushing to a small doorway and pushing himself up against the wall. You can't see him like this, not already. He's nearly naked and he knows this towel isn't big enough to cover himself as well as he should in front of a stranger, so he holds his breath as your foot steps become closer... and closer... and-
"Hey Jungkook."
Fuck.
Jungkook exhales a breath and moves to tighten the towel around his waist even more. You're eyes are not scanning his body like he thought you would be. Of course, Jungkook knows that sounds cocky of him to say but he can't help but assume that that would be the outcome of this situation. Either way, his face still burns when your eyes meet his. Those gorgeous, glowing eyes.
"Were ya hiding?" you laugh, tilting your head to the side, and Jungkook realizes that he's still pressed up against the wall.
"I- I, uh-" come on Jungkook, get it together, "Sorry. I didn't want you to see me naked."
"Oh please. When humans are naked, they're at their purest forms. It's natural, there's nothing to be embarrassed about." you smile brightly, moving a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
Jungkook raises an eyebrow. Your phrasing is odd, but he doesn't question it. Instead, he swallows, "You're right, but I'm sure you wouldn't have been okay with my dick just hangin' out. Neither would the security watching the cameras."
You laugh, a proper laugh that doesn't seem to be masked by something else, and Jungkook realizes it's melodic. A fine tune singing into his ears as one of the most beautiful songs he has ever heard. It's soft, breathy, and makes him want to make you laugh for the rest of eternity.
"Either way," you say after a moment, the hint of humor still in your voice, "nothing to be ashamed of. I'll see you tomorrow, Jungkook."
Jungkook tilts his head, watching you wave and waving back as you carry your feet towards the elevators.
~*~*~
The air was even lighter this morning, and Jungkook can't help but think you play a part in his bright mood.
Following the conversation yesterday, Jungkook walked with a grin on his face to grab his clothes. You're incredibly charismatic, an stark difference to Jungkook's usual shy and laid back personality. Despite your conversations together being minimal, Jungkook feels you and him are going to be close.
Jungkook hops out of bed and styles his hair carefully. Checking his phone as he brushes his teeth, he's received a text from Taehyung apologizing because he had already left. The house sounds still, he remembers Yoongi and Seokjin opted at staying at their respective apartments tonight, wanting to be a little closer to home. Namjoon probably stayed at the studio again and Jimin and Hoseok more than likely left with Taehyung. He shrugs, making a quick protein shake and grabbing a banana before heading out of the door.
As he drives to work, he makes note at how much more productive the members have been these days. Not that they never were, but the usual slump of exhaustion that follows months of continuous promotions, rehearsals, and recording doesn't seem to be hitting anyone this time around. Surely, the explanation is the high everyone is riding from the success of Butter and Permission To dance in the west. It's motivated everyone, including Jungkook himself.
He pulls into the parking garage, rides the elevator up to the 13th floor, and steps off only to be stopped by Hoseok.
"Jungkookie!" Hoseok wraps his arms around Jungkook's neck and squeezes him tight.
"Hoseokie!" Jungkook mocks, giving a pat to the older one's back. Hoseok pulls away with a chuckle, "I guess _____ is doing behind the scene shoots today. Something about wanting to catch us in our element."
"Oh? Like individual shoots?"
"Yeah," he smiles, "she's with Yoongi in his studio right now. She told me to tell everyone to choose a thing they do on a daily basis that might be interesting to see for ARMY."
"Should I work out?" Jungkook smirks. Hoseok rolls his eyes, patting Jungkook's pecs,
"You work out enough." Smiling, he begin walking towards the commons area,
"I'm almost to where I want to be." "Whatever Jungkook, you bully us enough already." Hoseok pats Jungkook's head and walks away, leaving Jungkook to sit on the couches for a moment.
He picks up his phone and scrolls through Weverse and Twitter for a moment. Despite not being as active as people wish he could be, he does keep up with what everyone is talking about. Currently he sees excitement about their online concert from last year coming to DVD, and "JUNGKOOK'S ABS" is trending.
Yeah, he's definitely going to work out for his behind the scenes.
Holding his phone up, he snaps a quick selfie and posts it to Twitter. Once a month seems to be a good formula.
"Jungkook?" Yoongi's voice enters the room, "She's gonna shoot with Namjoon then you."
"Ah," Jungkook stands, "time to get nice and sweaty for ARMY."
"You're such a freak." Yoongi laughs, watching Jungkook leave the room.
Jungkook begins on the treadmill, listening to music and trying not to think about the fact that you're going to be photographing him while he's working out. He feels somewhat dumb, being so incredibly invested in your opinions of him already, but like yesterday proved, there was something about you that drew him in.
He speeds up the treadmill, his calves burning and his breathing quickening while he runs. It's incredible, the feeling of absolute bliss he feels after a run. When his muscles ache and his chest feels clear, he feels most at peace. Though, peace isn't difficult to come across these days. Even with the sadness of not being able to perform live like he wants to, it's not as looming as it was before. It's incredibly exhilarating to wake up not feeling like the end is near. It happened so suddenly, he's not sure what changed.
At the beginning, when they had to cancel the tour and stay in Korea, Jungkook felt as though life was never going to be the same. It was dark for everyone. He remembers Jimin crying in the bathroom after the cancellation, which caused Jungkook to start crying as well. He scrolled through social media for hours, reading the anger and frustration at those who had to return their tickets. It pained him, to see such a bleak view of the fans he adored.
Now that it's been close to 2 years, Jungkook has learned to-- for lack of a better term-- live with it. He wakes up every day and tries his hardest to live, and that's all you can do when your passion in life is ripped away from you due to an ongoing worldwide pandemic.
The gym doors slide open and Jungkook looks in the mirror to see you.
You have a camera around your neck, Jungkook recognizes it as a Canon. You close the door behind you and stop him as Jungkook starts to slow down the treadmill.
"Pretend like I'm not even here." you nearly whisper, and Jungkook has to stop himself from choking on his spit. Your voice sounded almost sultry. He can't tell if that was his imagination or if it was intentional on your part.
Jungkook shakes his head, turning up the speed just a little bit more.
He hears the shutter on your camera clicking, the action setting in full effect as he runs. You move around him, being sure not to get yourself in the mirror of the shots. The only noises in the room are his breathing and the sounds of his feet hitting the runway. It's rough, his chest heaving the more he pushes himself, but he's more interested in the way you seem to float around the room, or the fact that your hands seem dwarfed by the large camera.
It makes him wonder what your hands would look like on him.
A necklace dangles from your neck, it's gold and shines under the lights of the gym. It falls gently into the crevice of your chest, what looks like a golden moon on the end of the chain.
Again, he wonders what your skin would feel like against his.
"You gotta stop looking at the camera." you giggle.
He didn't even realize his eyes were following you. Suddenly, it's like a wave of confidence washes over him. Confidence that he was not ready for.
He swallows, taking a deep breath, "I'm not looking at the camera." Why is he saying this?
"Yes you are," you grin, "I have like 7 pictures in a row of you looking directly at the camera."
"No," he shakes his head, "I'm looking at the person holding the camera." Shut up, Jungkook. Stop talking!
"Oh?" you laugh, "what's catching your eye?"
"The necklace." what the fuck? He basically admitted to staring at your tits!
"The necklace that's right in between my tits?"
He laughs, you snap a picture.
"I guess so, I'm sorry." The usual nervousness that he would feel at an admission like that is non-existent. He feels comfortable enough to talk to you like this, and judging by the way you smile, you're comfortable with it too.
"No need to be sorry," you snap another picture, "I know they draw attention."
Jungkook nods, "They certainly do."
"What do you like about them?"
The question throws Jungkook for a loop but he doesn't let that show.
"They're perky," he explains, stopping the treadmill, "and your shirts show off the perfect amount to leave some to the imagination."
"Ah, so you're imagining my tits?"
"Yes."
You smirk, walking away. For a moment, Jungkook is scared he said too much, but it's very quickly washed away by the sound of the lock turning. "So," you begin, "you're saying that if I took off my shirt, you wouldn't be opposed to looking at me?"
Jungkook shakes his head, "I also wouldn't be opposed to touching you."
"Well," you slip off your shirt, "I'm ready."
Jungkook feels his cock twitch in his gym shorts at the sight of your bra. Of your fucking bra.
Despite the blood rushing to his cock, he shakes his head, "Oh come on, darling. You know that's not enough for me."
"Your shirt first, buddy." your eyes follow Jungkook as he grips the hem of his shirt and pulls it off. Now that there's verbal consent, your eyes roam all over his torso. He's ripped, Jungkook knows this, but under your gaze he feels like a meal. Like he's about to get devoured by you, and he can't say he's not enjoying the idea.
You reach behind you, unhooking your bra and allowing it to fall to the ground.
Jungkook's eyes widen at sight, stepping closer to you and falling to his knees. He places his nose against your torso, inhaling your scent. The sensuality of the small gasp that left your mouth fueled Jungkook. He grabs your hands and pulls you down to his level, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips.
It's rough and heated, all teeth and tongue. He's not used to being this way, to feeling almost primal in his movements. He gnaws at your bottom lip, eliciting another moan from you. It's high pitched and nearly whiny, proving that you're suddenly filled with as much need as he is.
"I'm gonna fuck you," Jungkook states, "right here. Right now."
"Please." you toss your head back, falling onto the padded floors of the gym. Jungkook follows suit, kissing his way down your body until he reaches your navel. Again, he presses his nose into you and inhales, you smell so damn good.
He keeps smelling, inhaling your scent as he undoes the buttons of your jeans. The less clothing there, the stronger your scent becomes. He feels insatiable, nearly ripping off your panties to get to your center.
"Fuck, you're so wet already," Jungkook groans, his voice deep with want, with need. Taking a single finger up your slit, he draws it back and sucks your juices clean, "and you taste as good as you smell."
You stare up at him with hooded eyes, holding yourself up on your elbows and spreading your legs as wide as you can. "Now that you've had a taste you might as well finish it."
Jungkook doesn't need to be told twice, diving into your soaked folds with his tongue. He moves fast but also meticulously, being sure to take note of all the places that make you moan a little louder, sink a little deeper into him. Your hand reaches down and snakes its way through his hair, tugging at the roots.
At that point, Jungkook begins to kick off his shorts without pulling away.
"Fuck, I've always wanted to fuck you," you moan in between words, "you always look so good everywhere you go."
"Yeah?" Jungkook chuckles, "did you imagine fucking me before you got hired here?"
You nod, "I couldn't help it, I knew you'd be good."
As Jungkook manages to get his shorts off, he grips ahold of his aching member. Pulling up to his knees, his thumb doesn't stop rubbing harsh circles against your clit.
"That's hot," Jungkook breathes, "I've been wanting to take you since I first saw you."
"Then do it." you demand, and a flip switches in Jungkook's brain.
He pulls his fingers away from you and leans forward, "Taste yourself."
You don't hesitate to take his fingers into your mouth, Jungkook feeling your tongue dance across the pads of his fingers. Feeling himself twitch, he strokes himself for a little bit of relief while you suck.
"Taste good?" He questions.
"Delicious."
"Good girl." He murmurs, leaning down and connecting your lips with his again. As he does so, he runs the head of his cock against your slit, enjoying the gasp you let out every time he brushes against your clit. You feel so warm, so inviting. He can taste you so well, he wants nothing more than to dive in.
So he does.
Pressing into you slowly, he feels your warmth envelope him. Your legs wrap around his hips and guide him in all the way. When he slips all the way in, you both pull away for a moan.
"So fucking good. So tight." He moves his hips achingly slow, enjoying the noises of content leaving your lips. Your moans spur him on as your tightness engulfs him yet again. He leans down and presses a kiss to your neck, your hot skin nearly burning his lips, "I don't want to hurt you."
You shake your head, "You can't hurt me. I promise."
Jungkook isn't sure what takes over him at this point, but he feels his lips begin to thrust harshly into you. He doesn't process the rest of the world, the only thing that's certain is you. You're everything that he needs to focus on now, your whines, your moans, the feeling of your legs guiding him in and out of you. He wants to take you here over and over again until the end of time, and he's never felt that about anyone before in his life.
Your lips are beginning to bruise from the rough kisses he's been laying on you, so he takes a gentle approach and sucks on your jawline. Every few thrusts, he rests his forehead against yours. Then he moves again. Then rests.
"Tell me how good I feel." you whisper against his lips, breathy.
"Baby," Jungkook's brows knit together in pleasure, "you feel so good around me. So warm. I want to cum in you and fill you up so bad. Do-n't stop squeezing- fuck."
Jungkook abandons the pace he tried to keep and slams into you, pulling you on top of him and lifting you up and down on his cock. You let out a scream as he reaches a point he hasn't touched before, your cunt tightening exponentially around him.
He latches his mouth onto your nipples, the sensitive peaks hardening against his tongue. Your nails rake down his chest while you grind against him, your ass smacking against his thighs while he begins thrusting upward.
His hands grip your hips harshly, sure enough to leave bruises by his fingertips. He feels his orgasm approaching quickly, but he needs you to cum first. He need to feel you cum around him. "Fuck," he growls through clenched teeth, "cum. I need you to cum. Cum around me, please please please!"
"I'm gonna- I'm-" your sentence is cut off by your orgasm taking over, clenching deliciously around Jungkook and pushing him over the edge. His hips stutter and he releases into you, your warmth mixing with his as he collapses onto the ground. You're both silent for a while, your chests heaving as you try to calm down. Jungkook leans up, keeping you in a hug as your knees move to either side of his hips. Neither of you make a move to pull apart, Jungkook softening inside of you but the sensitivity feels so good.
He rests his chin on your shoulder, glancing behind you and towards the mirrors. On the inner edge of each of your shoulder blades, lay two large scars. They're old, pink in color now. Jungkook reaches a finger up to trace the scars but is stopped by a knock on the door.
"Hey, I'm ready when you are _____!" Jimin's voice sounds through the gym, muffled by the door.
"Shit." You whisper, "shit, shit, shit!"
You quickly pull off of him, beginning to slip your panties and bra back on.
Jungkook flinches at the sudden loss of warmth around him, looking down at his cock and seeing a mixture of his and your cum coating his thighs. "Don't you need to clean up?" he whispers.
"I'll stop by the bathroom on the way." you murmur, now fully dressed, "thank you for that, by the way." you wink, grabbing the back of his neck and pressing a hard kiss against him. Then, you're out the door.
Jungkook is left naked on the floor, confused, and wanting to ask why exactly you have asymmetrical scars on your back.
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samuclit · 3 years
Text
warnings: miya atsumu x female!reader, you guys are fwbs, 1.2K words of fluff and little smut, vaginal fingering, boob sucking and uh how do I tag this, lol.
wrote this last night when my boob hurts like shit because I’m on my period and I was really horny, take care of your boobs ladies because atsumu won’t be there to take care of yours. Read the article here!
"My boob hurts" you say, left hand clutching at your right boob, pressing your warm palms with extra pressure at your fingers to ease the pain. 
Atsumu, your. What do we call him. 
Your sex partner, company at lonely nights, sometimes lunch buddy when work gets overbearing and sometimes your grocery runner when you got too lazy to put on your bras and better-looking pants to buy a box of cereal, yours and Atsumu favourite.
It should be just you enjoying that cereal but Atsumu, who's enjoying the sexcapade, as he jokingly said one time when he wants to be inches deep buried inside you, said that the cereal wasn't too bad when soaked with the right type of milk. So you have to share it with him as long as he helps you with stuff you might need help with.
One of the help is probably comfort for a work-obsessed woman in her early 20s when she felt a bit lonely. You, it's you who we're talking about. 
"What was that?" Atsumu, whose face is buried in the pillow he claimed was his now, result of visiting too frequently for the 'sexcapade', is now pulled up to face you.
You side-eyed and saw him smirking like a piece of shit he always is because he loves to tease you and flirt with you despite the boundaries he set on his own, not that you disagree but sometimes, you take it as a challenge that will make you say 'fuck' when steps are at disarray. 
"I said my boob hurts." You glared at him now. Expecting him to tackle you and have him drape his whole naked body on you by now. 
"You're on your period?" Atsumu asked, face now covered in concern.
"Um no, I finished a week ago, probably the ovulation or something." You whimpered at the growing pain near your armpit, hand sliding under your shirt, well, his shirt, to massage and fondle it on your own, releasing a little moan you hoped he might notice just so he can get a hint. 
"Let me check." You closed your eyes to wait for his pretty setter fingers to trail on your abdomen, his favourite non-sexual thing to do just to make you laugh on one of your sad days.
His hand didn't come at all, and you opened your eyes to see him scrolling the Internet, presumably to have answers to his and your question.
Why do women's boobs hurt?
You scoffed and smacked at his biceps, but still managed to heave a small giggle at his question all while sliding close to his warm body, pressing your side at him while bending your legs to brush your toes at his calves.
"You could have typed 'is it normal for a woman's chest to hurt' instead of saying boobs like a pervert, you dumbass!" You quote unquote so he could get the message.
"I do not have women's boobs, and mine doesn't hurt. Just helping you, princess." 
Atsumu gasped when he saw an article from Healthline.
"Ah look, an article from Healthline, your favourite old hag magazine site." Atsumu teased, his giggles resonating too loud all the way to your eardrums and the erratic beating of your chest, the pain in your right boob slowly subsiding. 
"This old hag magazine site saved your clumsy ass when you bruised your head the other day." You retorted, head still inclined to read the article he clicked. 
"Whatever, I know first-aid better than you. Ah look there's a lot of causes." Atsumu mocked you, using his sexy fingers to pinch at your cheeks, earning a loud 'ouch' from you.
"Hm, it said here 'hormonal fluctuations, you might have the pain either 2 or 3 days before your menstruation or the entire time during your cycle' yeah. Other causes might be puberty, pregnancy and menopause" Atsumu read.
You paused.
"You're...not pregnant are you?" Atsumu turned to his side to look at your surprised face, expecting a quick answer from you.
"No. I don't— I don't think so?" Atsumu pushed his arms on the bed to lift himself up and you turned your body so you could lay down properly.
"Did you check? We haven't had protected sex for a long time so I'm just curious." Atsumu seated himself properly on the bed, one of his hands finally reached to your abdomen under the double-barrier that is your huge comforter and his shirt to draw shapes and do belly rubs.
"I'm pretty sure I'm not...I don't have early symptoms….and I'm very strict with my pills, mind you." you sighed, hands reaching for your locks to brush your own hair for reassurance. 
"Okay, I believe in you" Atsumu smiled, tucking your hair behind your ear. His fingers travelled to your jawlines, to your reddening cheeks, to the sore lips you had after the earlier makeout session on your couch. 
Atsumu finally hovered above you, hands grasping at every detail of your beautiful face, slowly trailing down to your hips. 
"Your boob still hurts?" You giggled at his smile. 
"It hurts less than before. I think it's just being dramatic, needing some attention perhaps."
You sucked in an air when his expression darkens, changed to the familiar animalistic side of Atsumu that could make you scream in pleasure.
"I'll give it the attention it wants then" Atsumu pulled the comforter in a haste and undressed you, desperate to see you naked. 
Atsumu and his, rather respectful demeanors to not delve in too quickly is what made you clung to him, never wanting to let go.
"Are you sure it's okay?" Atsumu asked and you nodded eagerly. Atsumu kissed you, both of your hands pinned to the bed, trapping you under his large muscular body. 
It turned hot in a second, his lips neglected yours to prioritise the situation at hand, his hands, now that he let go of one of your hands so he could fondle and tweak your left nipples while sucking on the right boob, the root problem.
Though, you would call it a blessing.
"Ngh— Atsu...please just fuck me" you gasped in small breath, feeling your folds getting wet by his hot body venturing yours.
Atsumu didn't waste time to descend his wandering fingers to explore your caverns, hitting right to the spot that he knows will make you cum quickly. 
He's practically making out with your nipple, pulling slightly to gain a reaction and sometimes pressing on your clit with his rough thumb to earn another wanton scream out of your mouth. 
His finger went inside and out and your hands scrambled to grip at his biceps to steady yourself, legs dipping your bed before you reach your peak, cumming on his fingers.
Atsumu plopped at your side and you creeped your way inside his hold, as you usually did when the sex ended. 
"Your boob hurts and then it leads to me fingering you huh?" You hid your face in his chest, blushing at the earlier activity you did. Atsumu giggled and rubbed at your back while he hugs you. 
"Tomorrow morning my dick will hurt, so you better think of a way to make it feel better when you sleep, hm?" You glared at him.
"Yes sir, I will. Goodnight Atsumu, my head hurts, by the way". You put a finger to his face.
Atsumu kissed your forehead and lulls you to sleep. "Goodnight princess" you heard his snores right after.
You won't mind if your boobs hurt in the future, Atsumu and a Healthline article would help solve your problem
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goodgirlofglory · 4 years
Text
That which lingered on his mind / Chapter 1
Prologue - Chapter 2
Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x reader
Word count: 4,7k
Warnings: 18+, Non-con, dub-con, Explicit sexual content, Explicit language, smut, Graphic descriptions of violence, bondage (bound wrists), oral (f receiving), asphyxiation (choking), Cumplay, Some graphic descriptions of blood.
Chapter summary: Steve Rogers, Captain America and your former neighbor, used to harbour some secret feelings for you before he was turned into a Hydra asset. Now he’s come back to claim what he cannot rid himself of: his desire for you.
Author’s note: This one came to me a dark January night and hasn’t let me go since. This series will be about 7-8 chapters, so stay tuned! Not beta-read, so all mistakes are mine. My work is not to be distributed anywhere but my blog. Reblogs are welcome, though. And I so appreciate reading your replies and tags<3 hope you enjoy ;)
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It started out as any other night. You had a cup of tea and scrolled through your phone for a while before a violent yawn told you it was time for bed. 
It was a normal night.
Until you stood face to face with Captain America. Or at least, who you thought was Captain America. America’s hero and your former neighbor. 
You had never really paid any attention to news about the Avengers or Mr. Rogers, and had never been one to socialize with neighbors. He lived across the hall from you and was quiet and polite, never drawing more attention to himself other than a smile and a curt greeting now and then.
That was until he disappeared off the grid about four months ago. It was all the news could talk about for a good three weeks. Gossip in the building also started flourishing. Where had he gone? What happened? Was he dead?
Apparently not, for there he stood, silent as the grave, inside your apartment, half shrouded in darkness, blocking your way to the bedroom. 
 You didn’t really know what his uniform used to look like either, but from what you could remember he used to have a star on his chest, and not the squid looking emblem he now bore. His face was also an unusual sight, jaw covered in a gruff beard, hair long and pushed back. But worse were the eyes; steely, cold and intent on you.
 Had it only been good ol’ Captain America standing uninvited in your home you would have been scared. But this. This chilled you to the bone.
 What the fuck was going on?
 Your body froze as you stared at the man, who made no effort to speak nor move. Finally you found your voice. 
“Excuse me, but what the hell are you doing in my apartment? Please leave before I call the police.”
You tried to sound tough, but your voice shook slightly at the last word. He must have picked up on that, for his otherwise dead eyes gained a slight glimmer. 
 “Please do. Their deaths will be on your shoulders.”
A small gasp caught in your throat. You were starting to become terrified. This was absolutely not the Captain America you had seen on the news nor the Steve Rogers you had greeted in the hallway. 
“Actually, don’t bother, you’ll never reach your phone,” he continued, sounding far too nonchalant for the ominous aura he was putting off.
Your eyes widened when you remembered leaving your phone on the living room table, all the way across the room behind you. 
What should you do? Run for it anyways? Scream for help? You opted for a seemingly less provoking approach.
“What do you want?” you asked, tears starting to involuntarily form at the corners of your eyes.
His eyes seemed to darken somehow, setting themselves on you with deadly weight, piercing your soul.
“You.”
Your fight reflex kicked in before you could think, and you lunged for the front door across the living room behind you.
But you barely got a few steps in before a thick arm snaked around your waist and janked you back to hit painfully against a hard, unrelenting body. You managed to shriek in fear before a second hand, big enough to cover both your mouth and nose slammed down on your face and muffled your cries, knocking your lips against your teeth. You tasted blood.
You kicked, hit and scratched at your assailant's body, but gained only a mocking snicker in response. His mouth came down to whisper in your ear, sending ice cold shivers down your spine.
“Please, keep fighting, it only makes this more enjoyable.”
You sobbed into his coarse hand, tears springing free from your eyes, wetting the skin of his fingers. 
 He tsked
 “Cuing the waterworks. He wouldn’t like that,” he breathed into your ears and tightened his grip on your face, effectively cutting off your air supply. You squirmed against his arms in panic, new tears falling, not managing to move him even an inch. His grip remained as tight as iron. 
 As your vision blurred and you slipped into dark unconsciousness, you kept wondering what he meant by “he”.
 §
 You awoke groggily, feeling the muscles in your arms ache as they lay over your head. You usually woke up with your arms thrown over your head, so it took a few seconds to remember what had happened.
When you did, your body surged upwards, but was promptly janked back against the bed. Looking up, you registered for the first time that both of your wrists were bound to the bedpost above your head, using the bondage ropes you had gotten as a joke a few years back. Looking down you saw that you were still fully clothed, with your oversized UNI t-shirt and cotton shorts.
 The knot looked intricate and a few janks told you it was secure as well. 
 Your breathing started to race as you understood you were stuck, and a cry ripped itself from your lungs at the realization. 
 “Ah-ah-ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a calm voice came from across the room.
“HELP,” you screamed at the top of your lungs, ignoring the man who sat in the chair in the corner. It felt good to defy him, if only for a split second. 
 He made no indication that your behaviour bothered him, his stare as even as ever. 
“I will kill anyone who enters this apartment,” he said calmly. “You don’t want to endanger any of your good neighbors' lives. That’s not who he perceived you to be. I, on the other hand, have no problem killing everyone in this building if it helps you understand what is happening here.”
 “And what the fuck is happening here exactly?” you snarled, still janking at the knot around your wrists, bound just a little too tightly.
He smirked at that.
“Feisty, just like I hoped. It’s more...fun if I can break you first,” he mused.
He got up from the chair and moved over to the bed. When he got close enough you kicked out at him, and you would have hit him right in the gut if he hadn’t caught your foot. Not that it would affect him, you bitterly thought after.
He looked almost amused before twisting your foot around until you shrieked in pain.
“Oh,” he cooed, “remember to be quiet. We wouldn’t want anyone to come checking in on you, would we?”
He let go of your foot, and you recoiled in the pain that shot up through your body. A sob escaped your gritted teeth.
He snickered.
“Pathetic. But I do see the appeal.”
He leaned forward and grabbed your jaw in a harsh grip, making you look him in the eyes as he leaned in so close his breath brushed across your face. There was a slight hint of mint to it.
“What's happening here, sweetheart, is that I’m gonna get some things out of my system.”
His hand let go of your jaw and moved down to slightly encircle your throat, lingering like a taunting threat. Your throat constricted instinctively at the presence of his calloused hand. A smirk played at his lips as you squirmed under his light touch. 
“I’m going to fuck you, Y/N”.
 You thrashed at that, nausea setting in your stomach, your skin prickling as the words landed.  
 “No, no, no, please,” you started to mumble in your panicked state, janking  more desperately on the knot around your bound wrists.
 “Oh yes, and the more you fight, the worse it’ll be for you,” Steve smirked as he moved around the back of the bed and started to climb onto it, grabbing your kicking feet with ease, straddling your thighs.
Helpless to stop it, you watched as he took a fistful of your shirt in both his hands and ripped the fabric open, split down the middle, exposing your stomach and chest underneath. In the chilly night air your nipples hardened and goosebumps spread across your skin.
You saw the feral expression that grew behind his eyes. 
He only hummed in response to your desperate whine, before letting a hand flitter up your hip.
His fingers stroked lightly up your torso, following every dent and bump, and you shivered at how soft it was in contrast to his earlier brutality.
Your breath hitched in your throat and his gaze snapped up to meet yours.
“Does that feel good?” he asked in a low murmur, smugness shining in his eyes, mockery dripping from his voice.. 
You shut your mouth and bit the inside of your cheek, tears welling in your eyes, trying to quell the impulse to scream. 
You had no doubt in your mind that no one in your building could overpower the super soldier, and you were terrified he would keep his word. 
You couldn’t let anyone else die. 
 A painful tweak of a hardened nipple brought you back to the room, and you cried out.
“Don’t disappear now, I need you present for this,” he instructed in a patient voice, almost like you were a disobedient child. 
 He bent down then, and took a pebbled nipple into his mouth while his hands landed on either side of your head, caging you in.
The sensation of his hot and wet mouth in contrast to the cold air of the room sent sparks flying through your body and, more horrifyingly, down between your legs. You bit your tongue out of shame, and tried to squirm away from his wanton mouth. It took only a single hand of his on your chest to effectively pin you down as he continued his ministrations on your nipple, sucking, licking and teasing with his teeth.
He radiated warmth hovering over you like that, his hand a searing presence on your skin, no doubt feeling how hard your heart was beating against your ribcage.
His smell filled your nose, musky, with hints of smoked wood and cedar, and something familiar and sweet - your own perfume. Did he go into your bathroom? Did he use your perfume on himself?
His mouth moved up your chest and to your neck, and he was so close, so overwhelming.
You squirmed slightly at his approach, but noticed that in this position, pinned under his thighs like you were, the fabric of your panties caught on your core, dragging along the awakened skin, and to your horror you could feel the slick starting to gather there. You stifled a whimper, face burning with dread and newly bloomed shame. 
His beard scratched your throat as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling sharply.
“There’s that smell,” he murmured with a throaty sigh, “that smell he couldn’t get out of his head”.
What was he on about? Who was “he”? 
Your mind raced with questions as his tongue started to lap at your throat, leaving open mouthed and sloppy kisses to your sensitive skin.
You closed your eyes and tried to resist, tried to fight your body’s reaction to his stimulation, but as his teeth nipped at a particularly sweet spot, your whole body shuddered involuntarily and a small gasp escaped your mouth. 
 His face snapped up from your neck, piercing blue eyes finding yours teary and terrified - and no doubt dilated.
He straightened after a second, and shimmied off from where he was still stradling your thighs. As soon as your legs were free, you started kicking out at him, rage and defiance surging, trying and failing to hit him in the chest as he effortlessly caught both your ankles and gathered them in one hand. 
He leaned forward, face smooth and emotionless, and landed an open handed slap across your face a second later.
Your head whipped to the side, and your breath left your body for a second as your head swam, a high pitched ringing filling your ears.
You gasped in shock, your whole body going stiff as pain spread from your cheek.
You had never been hit before, and especially not that hard. Tears sprang forth from your eyes as it dawned on you how utterly fucked you were. 
“Let that be a warning,” he said in a calm voice, seemingly not affected in the slightest by the violence he was so willingly dishing out.
The fight was out of you for now, and you could only breathe through the sharp pain that lingered on your face as he moved in between your thighs.
Sitting back on his haunches he started to remove the tactical suit on his torso, impatiently ripping at the fastenings as his eyes never left your face, red, swollen and wet from your tears. 
You averted your gaze, disgusted by him, disgusted by yourself, desperately trying not to reveal your body’s reaction to his.
When he was completely naked from the waist up, his hands turned to your sleeping shorts, removing them with deft haste and surprising softness before leaning back again, his touch leaving your body. 
Several seconds went by without any action, and your curiosity gained the better of you. Turning your eyes to him, you found him studying your body. His face was as blank as ever, but his eyes betrayed some sort of sentiment you hadn’t seen before.
“He used to dream about you,” he said after a while, seemingly more to himself. 
He bent forward once he realized you were watching him, caging you in again as he hovered over you, moving closer and closer.
Face still stinging from his slap, you didn’t dare move even a muscle as his lips found yours. It started slow, but soon he grew impatient, and his tongue invaded your mouth, hot, wet and dominating, moving languidly against your own. 
Breathless and reeling, a small whimper left your mouth, and the responding groan that emitted from his throat rumbled through you.
While still moving his tongue into your mouth, one of his hands reached down and you felt the distinct calloused warmth of his touch to the inside of your thigh. 
A small, panicked “no” croaked out of you, but he only swallowed it eagerly, not letting up his touch as it zeroed in on your core. 
You could feel his fingers touching the cotton covering you, and by the breathy laughter he huffed against your mouth, he no doubt felt how wet it was.
“Oh, doll, I don’t think you’ve been completely honest,” he mocked as he leaned back again and looked down at your ruined panties. 
You tried to hide your burning face in the nook of your elbow as he ripped your panties off before bunching them up in his hand and bringing them to his face. But his eyes caught yours in a steel grip as he inhaled sharply, eyes fluttering for a second before a pleased sigh left his lips.
You watched as his tongue swiped at the wet patch of the fabric before he put the panties in his pocket.
You thrashed at his obscene actions, nausea burning hot in the pit of your stomach, mixing with your undeniable arousal. 
What the fuck was wrong with you? 
As your mind raced against the reality of the situation, Steve laid down on the bed between your legs. His mouth attacked your pussy. 
A squeak escaped your mouth, hands janking at the knot around your wrists as he started devouring you, mouth moving between your clit and weeping wound with urgency, almost desperation. 
A full on groan left his mouth as he lapped at the juices that were steadily leaking from you. 
His hands found your breasts and started teasing your nipples, and you tried to squirm away.
You needed him to stop, you needed this assault on your senses to cease, because you could feel your resolve burning away as sweet, untainted pleasure started spreading through your body. 
Steve’s tongue swept up and swirled around your clit, and you tried inching away. One of his hands gave your breast a sharp slap before tweaking your nipple painfully again. Another warning. You headed it. 
“Does that feel good?” he asked, but in contrast to the last time it almost sounded like he cared.
You shook your head weakly. 
He chuckled against your mound and gave your breast another slap, sending jolts of pain through your chest. 
“Don’t lie,” he warned, but there was surprisingly little malice in his voice. “But nevermind. This pretty, swollen, soaked cunt tells me all I need to know,” he said almost fondly before giving your clit a few licks. 
“Give in, Y/N, I can feel how much you want to,” he taunted in between licks and all you could do was lay still and take it, new tears streaking from your eyes and wetting the hair at your temples as you squeezed them shut. 
He was right. You couldn’t deny the pleasure he was wringing from your body.
“I’m going to stay still now, and you move however you want,” he said then, before doing just that. 
Somehow, having him stop was more torture than what he had been doing, and your stubborn pride, your better judgement and the stinging feeling of violation that burned in your chest fought against your body’s sudden need for stimulation - for his stimulation. 
Something in you snapped, and you tentatively moved your hips so your clit could find his tongue, stretched out waiting for you. 
You shivered. 
It felt good. 
You rolled your hips again, more firmly this time, and the resulting swipe of his tongue against your sensitive bud of nerves had your breath leaving your body in a shaky exhale. 
His hands gave your breasts an encouraging squeeze, before resuming their attention on your nipples, and you moved your hips with more fervor. 
Before long you were grinding yourself on his mouth, breaths coming out in puffs as your eyes stayed shut, losing yourself in the hot feel of his tongue. 
Desperation grew as you could feel that distinct coil tighten in your abdomen, and every draw of breath fueled the build up. 
Not thinking anymore, you bucked your hips on him in repeated motion, lingering on the edge of the abyss, searching for that which would make the coil snap.
A desperate whimper left your mouth and as a response, a rumbling groan from his throat vibrated right through you and you fell head first into your orgasm, entire body shuddering violently as your mouth opened in a silent scream. 
He was on you as you came down, lapping up your release and groaning as you trembled at the overstimulation. He was frantically groping at your waist and hips, strong arms and hands grounding you as you floated on the aftershocks of your high.
The moment the orgasm faded from your foggy mind, it fell in on itself.
How could you let yourself give in like that? 
You squeezed your eyes shut, your mind trying to escape the whole thing, if only for a moment, go far far away, go numb, go blank. 
You weren’t allowed more than a few seconds reprieve, however, as you faintly heard him rustling around before you felt pressure at your entrance.
Before you had time to protest, Steve pushed his cock into you, giving a pleased huff as your body squeezed instinctively, drawing him in even more. 
Your eyes shot open and met his - wild and pleased.
“There she is,” he said with dark glee as he breathed hard. 
You fought to draw breath as your body seared with pain of the intrusion. His girth was more than you could take. It was all you could do to handle the stretch of his cock bottoming out, pushed inside you to the hilt.
“Feel that? Feel how your willing cunt is swallowing me like that, inviting me in?” 
He started to move a second later, not giving you any time to adjust, setting a punishing pace that sent sparks of pain up through your body.
You cried out at the agony, nails digging into your own palms. 
Above you, Steve growled as he bared his teeth at you, slamming his hips against yours. 
His cock was rock hard as it speared you, and he only seemed to grow harder at your pained cries. 
Through the pain and your strained whimpering sounds, you faintly heard him mumble.
“- all those incessant thoughts about you….never like this….if he only fucking knew...ripe for the taking, and the bastard didn’t as much as ask you out...”
His hand seized your throat as he stuffed his face into the crook of your neck again, inhaling fervently. Hitched breaths was the only thing that escaped you at this point, as he kept up his torturing pace, abusing your pussy without halt. 
“- That fucking smell in the hallway...never escaping it...fuck…gonna fuck those thoughts right out...”
 Was “he” Steve? Was he rambling about himself? Or at least, who he used to be?
The pain had slowly subsided as you’d listened to the man’s crazed rambling, and a deep onslaught of pleasure was starting to make itself known with each punch of Steve’s cock. Soon your body started to tremble, and you fought against the coil starting to build again. 
Steve shifted his hips to run his hands down your sides, and the new angle hit the spot deep within you that made your breathless.
Your mouth opened in a complete and utter moan, and Steve’s head snapped up from your neck, something akin to surprise in his eyes as he took in your face. 
“That’s the spot, isn’t it?” he asked, and his voice was thick with pleasure. 
You tried to avert your eyes, but his hand shot up and gripped your jaw, pulling your face so close that your breaths mingled. His stare locked yours in an iron grip. 
His thrusts slowed, and he rolled his hips, reaching deep, so deep inside you, and a pleasured sigh left your lips to fan across his lips as he found that spot again.  
“Look at you. Steve would never think of you like this - he respected you. Little did he know you were a cock hungry little masochist,” he husked, pupils deep pools of dark desire. Your cheeks burned as you clenched around him at his words.
He grunted, letting his eyes fall close for only a second, and you noticed how his long and beautiful eyelashes fanned across his cheek. 
“Let’s see how much you can enjoy this, huh?” he asked in an almost mocking tone as one of his hands reached down to where his body was rutting into yours, and his thumb found your clit. 
You cried out as he started an unrelenting circling of the sensitive bud, and he mouthed at your jaw as he hummed in response. 
In the back of your mind a small voice was telling you to fight, to gnaw and hit and thrash until he understood that you didn’t want this. Another voice was arguing that you would only be hurt further if you fought more. There was no getting away from his intent and no overpowering him.
A louder voice was whispering that it was okay to give in. Give in to the way he felt on your skin, the way he moved in you, the way he looked at you. Give in to the pleasure.
 Your orgasm washed over you like a warm wave, spasming through every muscle as they sung with exhilaration. A shuddering groan left your lips and your pussy pulsed around Steve’s cock. He growled as he crushed his lips to yours, and you opened yours willingly, moving your tongue against his in a wet and sloppy kiss. 
“Good,” he praised in a groan after breaking the kiss, and to your surprise, something akin to pride bloomed deep in your chest at his praise. 
You were completely lost in the pleasure now, in the drag of his cock against your trembling walls, his musky og smoky scent and those blue, lust-blown eyes piercing you. 
His pace quickened again, and you could tell by the way his muscles tensed that he was closing in on his own release.
“I can feel you fluttering, doll. Listen to the sounds this pretty pussy makes. Maybe I should keep you?” he mused darkly, a small wicked grin on his lips. 
For a moment terror flashed across your eyes. Keep you? In the back of your mind the pain of your still bound wrists alerted you of the implications of that notion. Your cheek was still burning hot from his earlier “warning”.
As if he read your mind, he sneered.
“Take what he never had. Continue to take what he never had. Make you mine, let you have my cock every time I want, keep this tight pussy on a leash”.
You heaved for breath as his thrusts grew frantic, and he raised himself to his haunches, hands a bruising grip on your hips as he looked down at you. 
Under the dim moonlight his muscles rippled, shining in a layer of sweat, his hair disheveled and falling into his face, and those eyes, forever shaking the bones in your body. 
Your name ghosted on his lips as his brows furrowed and your back arched as your third orgasm seized you by every muscle in your body, your head thrown back in a desperate, strangled whine.
 “Fucking shit,” he exclaimed through gritted teeth, and as your cunt pulsed around him, you drew his orgasm right out of his body. 
He gave a few stuttering thrusts before stilling, thrust to the hilt inside you. Through the blood coursing in your ears you heard his snarl as he emptied himself in you.
For a moment his face completely stilled, eyebrows raised, eyes fluttered shut, mouth slightly open. In that moment, you swore you recognised your former neighbor, Steve Rogers, Captain America in those features. 
But in a moment he was gone, and this Steve, whoever he was, was leaning forward to crush his mouth on yours. 
Still coming down from your high, you eagerly opened your mouth for him in a rather intimate kiss, one of his hands coming up to cup the side of your face. 
You almost sighed at the softness of it all when his teeth caught your bottom lip and bit hard enough to draw blood. You yelped in pain as the iron taste filled your mouth and he let you wrench your way out of the kiss, snickering as he leaned back up and licked some of your blood off his lips. His eyes were wicked  as he pulled himself out of you.
The emptiness he left behind was both a relief and a disappointment, even as your lip stung. You licked at the cut, wondering just what brand of danger had forced himself into your bed. 
“God, what a sight,” he murmured above you, fingers dipping down to spread your nether lips apart as his cum dribbled out of you. 
Embarrassment burned your face as he looked on, perverted astonishment painting his features. 
Two fingers swiped your slit, gathering both of your releases on them before bringing them up to your mouth.
When you did nothing but stare at him, he simply whispered “open”.
You obeyed, holding his gaze, and he pushed his fingers slowly into your mouth. The mix of the iron of your blood, the salt of his cum and the tangy taste of yourself made your face scrunch up, and he hummed low in his chest.
“Does that feel good?” he asked, face emotionless but for the shining sin of his eyes.
You couldn’t help yourself, you nodded.
The corners of his mouth twitched up at that, approval coating his features.
“Oh, I’m gonna keep you, alright,” he murmured, dragging his wet fingers down your torso.
As his fingers slowly caressed you, exhaustion drizzled over you, your vision blurred, and you fell into unconsciousness.
 §
 When you awoke, bright daylight was shining in through your window.
The soreness piercing your muscles was like nothing you had ever felt before, but the sleep had been even deeper, sitting like a pleasurable hum in your bones. 
You remembered immediately what had happened in the night and was relieved to find that your wrists were no longer bound. The bruises, purple and pink, would probably last for weeks. 
The ache deep in your core made your gut wrench in remembered dread, but somehow there was a feeling of anticipation there as well.
A quiet voice inside you whispered that you hoped he would stay true to his word, and come back. 
Author’s note: Christ. Sometimes I wonder if there’s a blood kink brewing inside me. 
Taglist:
@thedaughterofwandavision​ , @hellotvshowtrash​
If you want to be added to the taglist, leave a note on any of my fics or send me an ask<3 
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fandom-puff · 3 years
Text
A Proper Knight
Pairing: Jorah Mormont x reader
Requested by: anon ‘Okay, but also, imagine a low born girl falling in love with Jorah because she sees him as an honourable knight like the ones she heard from the stories and he doesn’t understand how she can think so highly of them... and they fall in love <3’
Warnings: talk of war, description of violence (including murder and rape), implied PTSD, younger woman/older man
Gif creds to owner
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“Wait here,”
You did as the Unsullied soldier asked, waiting behind the heavy door of the Great Hall of Winterfell, brushing imaginary dust off your simple dress. It was your best one, albeit much plainer than even some of the servant girls of Winterfell, and you were self conscious.
You had come to pledge your allegiance against the Lannisters, to the King in the North, or to Lady Sansa Stark. You would pledge your allegiance to almost anyone so long as it was against the Lannisters- you still remembered your mother’s screams as a Lannister bannerman raped her before slitting her throat.
The door opened and the clamour of the lords and ladies inside trailed off as the unsullied soldier directed you forward. ��Lady YN of house...” you stared hard at the maester as he squinted at his scroll. You were the last name on his list, crammed in after all of the nobles due to your status as a bastard.
You stood awkwardly, feeling the eyes of everyone staring at you- the lords and ladies behind you staring and murmuring, and the occupants of the head table: Jon Snow, Sansa, Arya and Bran Stark and Daenerys Targaryen, who was accompanied by a man and woman you did not recognise.
“What is your name, my Lady?” Jon Snow asked, quietening down the restless hall.
You looked around, worrying your lip between your teeth. “I-I...” you began, before clearing your throat. “Don’t call me ‘Lady’” you blurted out, resulting in murmuring scattered throughout the hall. “I’m sorry, I-”
“What’s your name, girl? It’s a simple enough question!” One man heckled and you sighed, beginning to turn away.
“Stop. Lord Glover, be quiet,” Arya quipped. “Go on, what’s your name,”
“And your house, if you please. You neglected to include that in your letter,” the maester added.
You took a deep breath. “My name is YN. I- I don’t have a house, I’m sorry. I’ve come to pledge my allegiance against the Lannisters,”
“And your surname? The name of your father,” the maester asked, dipping his quill.
You bit your lip. “I- I don’t know who my father is. I’m a bastard. Just put YN Snow. I’ve come to pledge my allegiance to the King in the North,”
There was a brief silence before Jon spoke. “There is no king in the north. I’ve bent the knee,” you turned to Bran, given that he was Ned Stark’s surviving true born son. “To Daenerys of House Targaryen,”
You frowned briefly, staring curiously at the dragon queen. “They say you have dragons, as big as a house. Is that true?” You asked. “Your grace,” you added quickly.
Daenerys smiled slightly. “Bigger,” she said with a smirk.
“Then Cersei Lannister and the Mountain that Rides ought to fire-proof their buildings,” you said. “If you’ll have me, I’d like to... well, I can’t fight, not with a sword at least. But I can fire an arrow in a straight line and that’s something. And if you don’t want me on the battlefield, I can cook, and my mother taught me to repair clothes, and my brother taught me how to sharpen blades. Just because I’m a bastard, doesn’t mean I’m not useful. Isn’t that right, Jon Snow?” Jon smiled slightly and nodded, seeing the twinkle in Brienne of Tarth and Lyanna Mormont’s eye as you spoke.
Slowly, every member of the head table nodded their heads. As you were beginning to seek out an empty seat, Daenerys spoke up. “Ser Jorah with help you refine your archery,” she said, gesturing to the tall man behind her. You looked at him properly for the first time. He was old, old enough to be your father at least, and handsome. “Yes, your grace,” you said.
**
“Draw the string back to your ear. These bows are probably stiffer than you’re used to, so really pull,”
You nodded, your hand trembling by your ear with the effort of holding back the string. You were eager to impress Ser Jorah Mormont- he was the first proper knight you had ever seen, and the first person more noble than a true born commoner you had had a proper conversation with.
“Loose,” he said and you did as you were bid. You turned to get a new arrow, assuming that one had missed the target, but as you were knocking it, you looked up. Ser Jorah was smiling. “Impressive. If that were a soldier, he’d be floored,” you smiled bashfully, fumbling and dropping your new arrow. Jorah smiled softly, picking it up and handing it to you, smiling softly at you from the ground.
He found you endearing, and he knew from your speech in the great hall that you were a force to be reckoned with. “Here. I think we’ll be able to hit the bullseye by the end of the day,” he said, moving behind you. “Knock,” he murmured, observing your movements. “Draw... turn your hips ever so slightly to the left, your arm will follow,”
“Like this?” You murmured, eyes focused completely on the target in front of you.
“Exactly like that. Loose,” you held your breath as you let go and watched the arrow soar towards... the bullseye!
“Well done, My Lady,” Jorah said softly.
“Ser Jorah, I’m not a lady. Why D’you keep calling me that?”
“It’s... polite, I suppose. And it’s a habit by now,”
“You really are a proper knight, aren’t you?” You teased, going to collect the arrows that littered the target.
“I mean... I’m a Ser, if that’s what you mean. I was made a knight by a monarch,”
“That doesn’t make you a proper knight. You’re like the ones in the songs and the tales. A gallant, generous, brave man, with honour and dignity and all the things that we sing about,”
Jorah smiled fondly and shook his head. “I’ve done bad things, YN. I’ve killed people,”
“So have I. So has Jon Snow,”
“You’ve killed?”
You froze, before nodding, turning away from him. “When I was fifteen, two Lannister knights broke into our home. They murdered my baby sister. They took turns raping my mother, then they slit her throat, for the crime of being a northerner, and for recognising Robb Stark as king,”
“What did you do?” Jorah said softly, approaching you slowly, as if you were a doe about to bolt away. “You can tell me. You won’t get into trouble for it,”
“One of the soldiers was huge. I thought he was the Hound at first, but he had no burns. It was his brother, the Mountain. The other knight told him to ride on, to find another village to ransack while he... finished with my mother. I was hiding in the pantry, and I took the knife that was on the table, still covered in my sister’s blood. A-and I crept up behind him as he wiped his hands on my mother’s dress... and... and...” you shuddered, remembering the heat of the blood over your hands, the way you scrubbed and scrubbed at them in a nearby river, the way you vomited at the thought of the Lannister knight’s corpse covering your mother’s...
“And that’s why you came here?” Jorah said quietly. You were leaning into his chest now as he rocked you, rubbing your back.
“Mm... they weren’t proper knights. They weren’t noble or gallant... they attacked two women and a baby in the dead of night. They had no honour. They were not just. You may think you are a bad knight, Ser Jorah, but what I saw that night... nobody could be worse than that. Goodnight, Ser,” you mumbled, pulling away from him as you made your way to your allocated room, dazed. Jorah stared after you, his heart twinging with more than just sympathy...
Tags: @sociallyawkward-princess @lazyotakujen
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jungwonenthusiast · 3 years
Text
Field Trip
A/N: I’ve been working on this pic for a while, I hope you guys like it :)
Pairing: Jake Sim x fem! reader
Word count: 5.2k
Genre: fluff, high school au
Warning: mentions of virginity loss and porn, occasional swearing, nothing else I think
“How many shirts should I take?” Jake asks you through your phone. 
“Uhm, we’re there for three days so take four just incase.” you reply and you pack your suitcase as well. 
You two were preparing for your five day field trip to New York which was happening tomorrow. 
You packed your favorite jeans and hoodies and even a dress just in case. You can't help but romanticize the hell out of New York after being stuck in this small town all your life. 
“How many pairs of underwear should I take?” he asks again and you giggle. He’s like a kid sometimes.  “How many times do you think you’ll change your underwear?” you say while sitting on your suitcase to get it to zip closed.
“Probably three but I’ll take four just in case.”
“What a quick learner.” you say and you hear him scoff. 
Jake has been your best friend since elementary school when you scraped your knee during tag and he took you to the nurse’s office. He’s been a sweetie since day one. 
“I doubt I’m gonna get any sleep tonight,” you sigh. “I’m too riled up.”
“Same,” he sighs. “I wonder how many flashers we’ll run into.”
You laugh. “Why is that the first thing you think of you creep.”
“Hey now,’ he chuckles. “I thought that was the stereotype.”
You hop onto your bed and pick your phone up, it looks like Jake’s doing the same. All you can see are his eyes and a bit of his nose bridge. His dark hair has started to grow out and it was poking at his eyelids. 
Your phone pings with a text from Jake. It’s a horrendous screenshot of you climbing over your phone to get into bed. You gasp.
“I’ll kill you.” you tell him as he’s holding in his laugh. “I will do it.”
His laugh bursts out of his throat, jolly and warm. “Why I love it.”
“I hate you so much. Delete it.”
“No way,” he bunches his brows. “You have an entire photo album dedicated to bad pictures of me.”
“And I also have an entire album dedicated to good pictures of you.” you roll your eyes.
“You do?” he asks. “That’s a bit fangirly of you.”
“Me? A fangirl? Maybe Madeline but not me.” you scoff.
“Madeline?” his voice perks up. “She likes me?”
“Yeah, I thought you knew this.” you swear that you’ve brought this up before. Maybe he just forgot. 
“Nuh-uh.” he says.
“Well...” you say. “do you like her back.”
“I mean she’s nice but,” he hesitates. “not really.”
“Why not? She’s smart and super pretty. I'm so jealous of her hair.” you say. Madeline was a tan ginger girl with curly fiery hair down to the small of her back. 
“You have nice hair.” he says nonchalantly. 
You touch it and rub it between your fingers. “It’s whatever.”
He scoffs. “You’re too hard on yourself all the time.”
“I’m a teenage girl, I can’t help it.” You defend yourself, but he isn’t lying. 
“I’m bored, can I come over?” he says suddenly. 
“Tonight? We have school tomorrow.” you reply. 
“Maybe I’ll just sleep over.” he says while turning over in his bed. “I don’t think our parents would care.”
Sleepover? You two hadn’t done that since you turned eleven. 
“Where would you sleep?” you ask him, already imagining how this would go.
“I don’t know on the floor.” he shrugs.
“I’m not letting you sleep on the floor I’ll feel bad.” you argue.
“I don’t care, I’m the one who suggested it, plus I miss you dude, I wanna hang out.” he says and you smile.
“I saw you on Friday.”
“Yeah, a whole two days ago.” he gets up off his bed. “Okay I’ll be there in ten.”
“What-” you start but he cuts you off.
He brings the camera up close to his face and he flashes you a smile. “Bye!” he hangs up. 
Your palms feel a bit sweaty and you brush them off on your pants. Why am I nervous? You guys have had plenty of sleepovers before but the rest of the boys were always there, probably passed out from beer or a sugar crash. 
You tidy your room up a bit and prepare a little blanket bed on the floor right next to your actual bed. 
You hear knocking at the door right when you expected, Jake was hardly ever late. 
“Hola~” he says as he walks in with his backpack on. He takes his shoes off before skipping over to your room. You giggle to yourself. 
He falls back onto your bed with a big sigh. “I missed being here.” 
“Why? There’s nothing cool here. Your house is way cooler.” you say and he smiles.
“Well I can’t deny that,” he shrugs and you punch him in the arm. “you’re the one who said it.”
“We get it rich boy.” you roll your eyes and sit down next to him.
“I’m just playing,” he sits up. “you know that.”
“I hope you showered after practice,” you say. “I don’t want you stinking up my bed.”
He whips his head to you, looking a little bit offended. “I am very clean alright? Here smell my hair.” he shoves his head into your face. 
You let out a strangled noise and try to push him away. “Okay, okay!”
“No smell it,” he keeps his hair up in your face, it’s tickling your nose. “smells like mangos right.”
Admitedly, he's right. It smells like mangos.
“Yes it does,” you squeak out. “now please respect my personal bubble.” you spread your arms out and create an imaginary bubble between you two. He tries to tug at your arm but you bellow in a robot voice. “PERSONAL BUBBLE PERSONAL BUBBLE.”
“Fine, fine.” he falls back onto your bed again, laughing. “Lets watch something.”
You follow suit and tug your laptop into your lap. 
“Hold on,” you get up and close your window, it was starting to get too cold.
You shimmy under your covers and pull up Netflix.
“Scary movie?” you click on the horror section.
“Sure but you probably won’t be able to sleep.” he teases and you roll your eyes. 
“That was years ago.” you start to scroll through the movies. 
“Mhm, and I’m never letting you live it down.” he says with pride. 
During freshman year the gang decided to go to Jay’s house to watch It together and it freaked you out so much that you went to sleep in the boys room rather than the guest room. 
You click on Hush, a movie you’ve been avoiding because it’s about one of your biggest fears, a home invasion. 
“I thought you hated this movie.” Jake says, crossing his arms.  “I do, but I need to face my fears eventually right?” you click on it and get up to turn the lights off. 
Jake soon gets under the covers as well. You both cringe and slap each other every time your feet touch. 
“Yo yo yo yo watch out!” Jake whispers and pulls his hood over his head, something you both do when you’re nervous. You weren’t wearing a hoodie so you settled with a spare blanket and draped it over yourself like a cloak. 
“Oh shit,” you whisper. “look behind you!” you yell at the main character. 
By the end of the movie both of your bodies are stiff and sore from being so tense for two hours straight. 
“I thought she was gonna die.” you sigh and you shut your laptop. 
“Nah, they couldn’t kill the main girl.” Jake says, comfy and cuddled up in your duvet. “She was so smart.”
“Yeah she was.” you yawn and then kick Jake in the side. “Go to your bed.”
He groans. “It’s warm here though.”
“Go and I’ll make pancakes tomorrow.” you say.
He perks up and follows your orders. 
You relax into your mattress, but you miss his warmth next to you. You ignore that. 
Your alarm goes off at 6:30 and Jake sleeps right through it. 
“How the hell does he get up in the morning?” you whisper. “Probably Leila.”
He’s sleeping on his side, cuddling a stuffed animal he must’ve stolen from your bed while you were asleep.
You stretch your back before washing up. 
Jake’s POV
My serene sleep is interrupted by pokes at my shoulder. 
“Get up poop.” she says. I almost forgot that I was at her house. I crack my eyes open to find her crouching next to me. 
“Good morning.” I croak out.
“You stole ginger.” she points at the stuffed bunny in my arms. 
“I was lonely.” I say before sitting up and rubbing my eyes. “What time is it?”
“7:30,” she says holding in a giggle. “go wash up so we can eat.”
“What’s so funny?” I ask her as she walks away. “You’ll see when you look in the mirror.” she says.
My eyes widen. Did she draw a dick on my forehead or something? I thought we swore to never do that.
I scramble to her bathroom to meet some gnarly bedhead. I have no clue how guys have good messy hair, my hair is either boring and flat or just messy. 
“Jesus.” I say to myself and try to run my head under the sink. 
I brush my teeth and secretly use her facial cleanser. 
“So fancy.” I whisper while lathering it up on my face. 
I can already hear her voice in my head when I’m drying off saying “don't forget to put lotion on, and face lotion, not body.”
A stack of pancakes is waiting for me in the kitchen, just as she promised. 
“Thank you mom.” I say to her before digging in.
She sits across from me with her own plate of flap jacks. She looks so pretty this early in the morning. Her face is fresh and sparkly and her eye bags somehow just make her prettier. It’s cloudy out and I can tell she’s cold she way her body is bundled up in her chair. 
I still remember the moment I realized that I liked her. It was seventh grade and we were at our town’s annual fair. She got a bit sick after a ride with a lot of loopdey loops so I stayed behind with her while the rest of the boys continued to go on every ride they pleased. She told me to go with them and that she didn’t want me to miss out but I said that it was fine and that I liked hanging out with her anyway. She smiled her bright smile at me and rested her head on my shoulder for a moment. Then she threw up on my shoes. Like projectile cotton candy, funnel cake, and other miscellaneous fair food vomit. And I didn’t even get that mad, I was more concerned for her. After that I figured I liked her, because if it were Jay I would’ve beat him up. 
“Did you have any nightmares?” I ask her and she shakes her head.
“Nah, I dreamt that Sunghoon married a dolphin. It was weird.” she sighs.
I choke on my pancakes. “A dolphin?”
“Yeah,” she laughs. “his name was Jerry.”
“And it was a guy too?” I hold my chest, trying not to choke.
“Don’t judge their interspecies homosexual marriage. It was beautiful.” she laughs and takes a big gulp of water.
I’m almost crying at this point. “Best dream ever. I can’t wait to tell Sunghoon this.”
“No!” her eyes widen. “He’s gonna think I fantasized about it or something.”
“What?” I cock an eyebrow. “Everyone knows that dreams are uncontrollable sometimes.” “Still it’s weird. Imagine if someone told you that I dreamt of you marrying a dolphin. It’s be weird.” she says through a mouth of pancake. 
“Did they have kids?” I cackle,
“I don’t know. How would that even work?” 
“Maybe they had a surrogate or something.” I suggest.
“Oh god,” she shakes her head, smiling. “we need to stop. I feel like I'm violating him.”
“Alright, alright.”
“Should I wear this shirt or this sweater.” she asks me as we’re getting ready in her room. 
“Sweater. It’s probably gonna be cold.” I say while tugging socks on. 
“Shit you’re right. Then I won’t be able to wear this dress.” she holds up a little dress that flows out a bit from the waist. 
“Bring it anyway and maybe you can wear it for a second so I can take pictures for you.” I suggest and she smiles. 
“Good idea.” 
We both settle of hoodies and jeans and say goodbye to her parents before hopping in my car. 
We get to school right when people start getting on the bus to the airport. We throw our luggage into the bottom carrier and get in line. 
“Yo!” I hear a familiar voice call as we get on. “We saved seats for you guys.”
Jay, Sunghoon, Heeseung, Jungwon, Sunoo, and Niki have already gotten comfortable in the back of the bus. Niki was already asleep. Y/N couldn’t help but pat his head before settling down next to Jungwon. The bus wasn’t a school one but one of those fancy ones they bring out once a year. 
I sit down next to Sunghoon and dap him up. 
“What’s up.” I say while putting my backpack down by my feet. 
“Tired.” he says. “Valentina kept me up all night.”
I raise an eyebrow and he smirks. 
“For real?” I ask and he nods. “No way.”
“Yeah way.” he says and holds up a fist.
I fist bump him and pat him hard on the shoulder. 
“You’re a man now Sunghoon.” I congratulate him and he snickers. 
“What does that make you then?” 
“I’m taking my time alright? I’ll get there eventually.” I say, a little embarrassed. 
I look back to check out what she’s doing when we start to drive off. She’s fast asleep with her cheek pressed against Jungwon’s shoulder. He looks like he’s about to dose off too. Cute. 
Sunghoon and I watch a couple episodes of Death Note before we arrive at the airport. Sunoo shakes Y/N and Jungwon up. 
She’s still groggy as we walk into the airport and grabs onto my arm for leverage. My heart jumps a little. It’s not often that we touch despite how much I think about touching her. I could stare at her back all day. She could ignore me for the rest of my life and I’d still be happy to be in her presence. Mental note to all of you: do NOT let your feelings get to this point.
Soon we’re on the plane and she chooses to sit next me. I silently celebrate. Sunoo and Sungoon behind us, Heeseung and Niki next to us, and Jay and Jungwon in front of us. Sunoo pokes his head over her seat.
“Do you have chapstick I can borrow.” he asks with his blonde hair flopping over his forehead. 
She digs into her bag and hands him a small tin of lip balm.
“Thank you!” he says and she nods. 
“Are you that tired?” I ask her.
“Mhm,” she sighs and shuts her eyes. “I forgot to drink coffee this morning.”
I put in my AirPods and start to watch Lady Bird. She looks over and takes an AirPods out of my ear. 
“I wanna watch too.” she say and puts it in her own. 
We take off for the six hour trip and soon Y/N is sound asleep. Her head kept dropping forward so I pushed it up and pulled it to rest on my shoulder. This was not on purpose. I can’t help but snap a picture of her and add it to the good pictures of her album. She looks so peaceful and comfortable and gorgeous. I lay my head on hers for a moment before continuing the movie. 
Y/N’s POV
After two hours of unsatisfying sleep, and hour of gossip with Sunoo, and three hours of chit chat with Jake you finally arrive. You sit up and stretch as best as you can in the plane. You pull you backpack onto my back and get you luggage down from the overhead bin. It’s already five p.m. when we get off and your stomach is growling. 
We take another bus to the hotel and you can’t help but admire the city life as we drive there. 
You’re roomed with two other girls at the hotel but you don’t even bother unpacking. You know you’re gonna be in the boys’ room anyway.
Mrs. Gilroy gave us tonight to do whatever we wanted as long as we were back at the hotel by ten p.m. 
You sneak into Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon’s room as soon as you can. And when you get there, it’s already a mess.
“Good lord.” you say as you’re met with clothes all over the floor and mini bottles of liquor on the beds.
“You guys are drunk already?” you scrunch your nose and drop your stuff in a corner of the room.
“No.” Sunghoon says to you lazily with a little smirk on his face. You can’t help but giggle. Sunghoon is pretty adorable when he’s drunk. 
“Are you drunk too?” you turn to Jake and he shakes his head. His pink cheeks give him away though. “You’re all bad liars.”
“Lets go swim.” he says excitedly. 
“There’s a pool? I didn’t bring a swim suit.” you say, bummed.
“Can we go later, I’m hungry.” Jay says and you agree.
“Me too.” 
Jake tugs at your arm. “Come on~ we can order room service or ask Jay to get us something.”
“We can get you guys something.” Sunghoon says, pulling a hoodie over his head. 
“Please?” Jake looks at you with shiny eyes. He’s and adorable drunk too.
You purse your lips and sigh. “Fine. But I don’t have anything to wear.”
“Just wear shorts and a shirt.” Jake says as he tugs his swim trunks out of his suit case.
“I didn’t bring shorts because you said it was gonna be cold.” you complain, crossing your arms. 
“Uhm,” he stops for a moment. “you can wear my boxers then.”
You raise your eyebrows. “Huh?”
“What?” he looks at you. “They’re basically shorts. And they’re clean.”
You hesitate but then comply as always. He tosses you a pair of black Calvins.
You steal one of Jay’s shirts and make your way into the bathroom to change. You’re wearing a simple cotton bralette which should be fine for the pool. You bundle up the rest of your old clothes and stick them behind your backpack before heading out with Jake. 
The pool is empty and huge and is only light by the lights inside. 
“It’s so cold.” you rub at your arms as Jake sets your towels down at a seat.
“I’m sure the pool is heated.” he says and dips a toe in. “Yeah, it’s warm.” Before you can even reply, he tugs his shirt off and canon balls in. You turn your face to avoid getting splashed.
“How is it?” you call out as he emerges from the water. He shakes his hair around like a dog. 
“It’s warm so come in, you look funny standing there.” he teases and you roll your eyes. You kick your sneakers off and try to make a peaceful jump in but you didn’t realize you were in the deep end. It takes you a moment to get your senses together and swim to the surface.
“Why is it deep?” you say, a bit out of breath. 
Jake giggles at you. “Remember when we used to play and you were the mermaid and I was the-”
“Turtle companion.” you finish his sentence. “Yes, as clear as day.”
“Why couldn't I be a mermaid too? Why was a I a lame turtle.” he fusses.
“I’m sorry okay?” you laugh. “I was a mean child.”
“Yeah you were. I’ll never forgive you for shoving that clump of dirt in my mouth.” 
You burst out laughing, flailing your arms in the water to try to stay afloat. “You deserved it!”
“I did not!” he protests. 
“You cheated in handball! It was one hundred percent deserved.” you say, swimming over to him.
“I barely cheated!” he calls out, starting to swim away from you.
“Barely? I would’ve won and been champion of our grade if you hand’t pulled that shit!” you say, still laughing and swimming after him.
“Why are you chasing me?” he says while hopping around the pool where he can touch the ground.
“So I can shove another clump of dirt in your mouth.” you try your best to get him but your heavy cotton shirt is holding you back. You don’t let it stop you though. 
You finally get to him and tug his arm. He yells as you push him underwater. He finds the ground though, and shoots up soon after. 
“Are you trying to drown me?” he looks at you, astonished but giggly. 
“Maybe.” you shrug before tackling him again. It had been a while since you two wrestled like this. 
You’ve got him under water for a bit until he finds your rib cage and plunges you in. It’s hard to hold your breath while you’re laughing. You feel around for him and pinch his thigh only semi hard. He lets you go after that. 
“I won!” you celebrate with your fists in the air.
“You used pain, that isn't fair.” he rubs at the area that you pinched. 
“Don’t be a sore loser. I won fair and square.” you cross your arms.  “Fine.” he admits his defeat. “that pinch hurt though, come kiss it better.”
Your face twists. “Nuh uh.” you say plainly. 
“Please?” he asks. “I will drown myself right now.” You laugh at him. 
“I will do it!” he insists.
“Okay, okay! I’m not to going to kiss your leg you weirdo but I’ll give you a hug.” you float over to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders. “I even pinched you lighter than I normally would.”
“I’m sensitive.” he says into your neck and you giggle. 
His arms feel so right around your waist and you struggle to decide when to let go, so you just don’t, and neither does he. He holds you decently tight and you feel him pat your back. 
You’ve hugged plenty of times before but it felt a little different this time. Probably because you’re pressed up against his bare skin. It makes you feel a bit sheepish. 
You pull away from him. “Feel better now?” 
He nods with a smile. His cheeks are pink, but this time it’s not from the liquor. 
Jake’s POV
I can’t help but feel disappointed when she lets go of me. 
I shouldn’t have patted her back that's a dad thing to do. 
Her makeup has started to run down her face which makes me giggle.
“What?” she asks.
“Your mascara is making you look crazy.” I say and her hands fly to her face.
“Shit I forgot I had it on.” she attempts to wipe it away but all it does is smear it across her face. 
“Here,” I say and float over to her. “I’ll help you.” this was not on purpose.
I hold her face as gently as I can in my hands and rub the runny mascara off with my thumbs. I dip my fingers into the water to get all of the bits off. 
I want to kiss her so badly, but I know that I’ll never do it. Sometimes I get irritated at myself for not being able to confess. I think Jay and Sunghoon get irritated about it too. 
“You talk about her all the time man just ask her out.”
I don't know why I can’t do it. If she rejects me she’ll do it nicely and things would go back to normal pretty soon. But I don’t think I could live knowing that my feelings would never be reciprocated. Sometimes I get a feeling that she likes me too but I can never be too sure. 
“All gone.” I say and she thanks me. 
She lets her self float on her back. She has a small smile on her face and she’s so pretty I could cry. There have been multiple times where I nearly cried over how much I like her.
“What are your thinking about?” I ask.
“You know I never know how to answer that.” she bleats. “My mind always goes blank when you ask.”
“Well try to remember what you were thinking about then.” 
“Us.” she says plainly.  “Us?” I questioned. “What about us?” “I don’t know, just how I met you guys and how happy I am to be friends with you all.” she says. 
Oh. She meant all of us. 
“Yeah me too.” I agree, trying not to sound down. “Who’s your favorite?”
She snorts. “I don’t have a favorite.”
“Of course you do,” I say. “and it better be me.”
“Why would it be you?” she jeers. 
I frown. “Because we met first.”
“I’m kidding, of course you’re my favorite.” she admits.
“And why is that?” I egg her on and she rolls her eyes. 
“Because we met first.”
I sigh. “Is that all?”
“Mhm.” she says. 
Y/N’s POV
You’re met with InNOut that Sunghoon and Jay got and also a room full of teenage boys. The younger ones were laying on their stomachs on a bed together, watching something on a laptop. Sunghoon and Jay were trying to watch t.v. You say trying because of the furious clicking on the remote. 
“What the hell are you guys trying to do?” you and Jake plop onto the one empty bed.
“Trying to find the porn.” Jay grumbles.
“Infront of the children?” you look over at the younger ones.
“They don’t care they’re watching YouTube.” he says, still clicking. 
You take a bite of your burger. “You have an endless arena of porn on your phone why do you want the t.v. one?”
“The t.v. makes it special.” Sunghoon says. 
“Weird.” you mutter to yourself.  “They’re probably gonna make you pay for it too.” Jake chimes in. 
“Do you think it’ll go to the school’s credit card or whatever?” Jay asks with wide eyes.
“I don't know but if it does they’ll know it’s from our room.” he says through a full mouth. 
You grab pajamas out of your bag and head to the bathroom to shower. 
You come out feeling fresh and the younger ones have gone back to their room now. 
“My turn,” Jake says, walking into the bathroom. 
You sit next to Sunghoon on his bed and start scrolling through your phone. 
“Should I get this sweater or this one.” he holds his phone up to you and shows you light blue sweater and a black one.
“Second one.” you say.
“Really?” he questions. “I feel like it’ll make me look emo.”
“You should become emo honestly. It would look good.” you reply and he chuckles. 
“You’d have to help me with my eyeliner every morning.”
“Yeah,” you giggle “wait can I do it right now? I wanna see how you’d look.”
“Right now?” he cocks a brow and you nod. “Okay but don’t give me raccoon eyes.”
“I won’t I won’t.” you rush over to your bag and bring your make clutch to the bed. 
“Hold still.” you tell him as you give him smokey winged liner.
“It tickles.” he says, trying not to blink too much.
“Beauty is pain.” you clean up the wing with your nail. 
In a couple minutes you’re done. “Finished." you say.
“Lemme see.” he grabs a hand mirror from your clutch and holds it up to his face. “Hold on. This looks kinda good.”
“Right?” you had to admit it; he looked gorgeous.
“Why are you so pretty?” Jay says from his bed. 
Soon Jake came out of the shower and it was hard to deny how good looking he is especially with his damp hair. How could someone make a t-shirt and sweats look so good? He dumps his laundry by his bag. 
“Does Sunghoon have makeup on?” he asks, settling onto his bed.
“Yeah doesn’t it looks nice?” you ask and he agrees. 
“Y/N are you gonna sleep here or in your room.” Jay asks.
“I thought I would just sleep on the floor here.” you suggest and he furrows his brows. 
“No that’s mean. Share a bed with someone.”
“You should sleep with Jake.” Sunghoon elbows you in the side and you shoot him a dirty look. “We all know he wants you to anyway.”
“Fuck off Sunghoon.” Jake looks over at him with a piercing stare, a contrast to his pink cheeks. 
“Is it okay if I do?” you ask him and he nods.
“Yeah for sure.”
Sunghoon snickers. 
“I hate you.” Jake scowls. 
After a couple hours of watching movies and horsing around it’s nearly midnight and your eyes are getting heavy. 
You crawl under the covers and scroll on your phone a bit before trying to sleep. Despite how tired you are it’s hard to sleep with the boys chatting and snickering to each other. 
“Can you guys quiet down?” you ask them.
“Sorry.” Jay says. 
After maybe an hour of sleep, you feel someone get on the bed. Probably Jake, you think to yourself. His little sighs as he gets comfortable are cute. 
“You awake?” he whispers. 
“Mm?” you turn on your side to face him. “Yeah.”
“Cool.” he says. The room is dark but the moonlight helps you make out the outline of his face. 
‘What’s up?” you ask.
“Nothin.” he says and you giggle.
“Okay weirdo. Go to bed.” you close your eyes, stilling facing him though. 
“I’m not tired.” he says.
“Count sheep.”
“That never works for me.” he sighs. “Sing me to sleep.”
You try to slap him in the arm but you end up hitting his face. “Oh shit sorry!”
“Ow!” he whines. “Why do you keep hurting me?”
“It was an accident!” you whisper and rub at his cheek a bit. 
“Now I actually deserve a hug.” he pouts and you roll your eyes.
“You are not five years old.”
“I still want the hug.” he says plainly and you sigh.
“Fine.” you scooch over to him and pull him into your chest. You pat his back. “There there. Better now?”
He shakes his head. “It still hurts.”
“You’re embarrassing yourself.” you scoff. 
“I have no shame when it comes to your affection, you should know that by now.” he smiles.
You feel his arm fall over your waist and his hand slide up your back. It gives you goosebumps.
You’re cuddling with him. You guys are cuddling right now. You think to yourself. No you’re not, you’re just...hugging. Right?
Jake pulls away to look at you. “I need to tell you something.”
“Are you gonna say your mom again?” you ask and he shakes his head. 
“No,” he says giggling. “it’s something for real.” 
“Okay what is it?”
He takes a sharp inhale. “I like you.” he winces. 
Your heart jumps a bit. ��I know.”
“What?” he laughs.  “You’re very obvious about it.” you chuckle.  “Are you rejecting me?” he asks and you shake your head. 
“I would never.” you pull him in by the back of neck and push your lips against his.
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Text
A Deafened Bard (Stephen Strange x Female!Reader) pt. 2
Doctor Strange and y/n confide their tragic backstories in one another. Y/n struggles with her feelings for him.
Trigger warnings: abusive parenting, use of firearms, discussion of death and grief, mention of alcoholism
"On the outside, always looking in
Will I ever be more than I've always been?
Cause I'm tap, tap, tapping on the glass-"
You stopped yourself before you could indulgently belt out the titular lyric.
"Ew, why was I singing that?" You muttered to yourself. "I don't even like that song." 
You knew, subconsciously, that it was because you were trying to avoid what you really wanted to sing. For the first time ever, you had an audience. Someone was paying attention. 
"Love of my life, you've hurt me-"
"Oh, come on, butterfingers." He interrupted. "Love of my Life by Freddie Mercury. Give me something hard." 
"I wasn't aware it was classic rock trivia night." 
"Then why were you staring straight at me while singing?" He smirked. 
"Was I?" You cocked your head, expertly deflecting his implication. "I'm so spaced out I don't even know where I'm looking." 
"It's Freddie Mercury." He insisted.
"Uh, yes and no." You corrected, drawing on your encyclopedic knowledge of Queen from one particularly weird summer in high school. "While Freddie Mercury wrote the song, it was recorded on a Night at the Opera. Which was accredited to the whole band." 
"That's a nitpick," he shook his head. "I'm still right." 
You couldn't wear your heart on your sleeve anymore. You could only distract him with 70s glam rock trivia for so long before he started to notice a pattern. Although a sappy love song was in your heart, you sang the anthem of the depressed theater kid. 
You were staring straight at him, though. But who wouldn't? You studied his features only for artistic inspiration. His sharp jaw and high, high cheekbones were… inspiring. 
You couldn't lie to yourself. You fell and fell hard.
"Butterfingers!" Master Strange called out from the other side of the sanctum. "I need you!" 
You dropped your pencil and pushed yourself out from the chair. "Coming!" 
You followed the voice into his chambers. This was a new development, you thought. Out of respect for his privacy, you'd never dared to snoop around in his bedroom. But this was practically a written invitation. 
The room was spotless. Not a book or a scrap of paper out of place. Nor was there much to look at at all. A handful of picture frames, some magazines from when he was a surgeon, all featuring himself on the cover. 
"Butterfingers!" He called again, as if he knew you were about to snoop.
"I'm here!" You yelled back, eyes wandering around the room. "What do you need?" 
"I left my watch somewhere in the library!" He sounded disproportionately panicked for what was just a minor inconvenience. "I need you to go get it for me." 
"What does it look like?" You asked. 
"It's a $27,000 watch." He snapped impatiently. "It looks like one." 
"Jesus." You cursed.
"Don't give me that shit, [F/N]." He ordered, slamming his fist down against the sink. "Just do what you're goddamn told." 
"Alright, alright!" You put your hands up. "Fine, I'll get it." 
You hurried down the stairs and into the library. On the floor between his favorite chair and a stack of musty old books was a slim, silvery watch with a plain black band.
You picked it up and examined it. Apart from the price tag, was there really any reason for him to be so worried about it? He knew exactly where he left it. Did he have reason to believe it wouldn't be there when he returned? 
All you needed to do was flip it over to get your answer. You read the inscription on the back. 
Time will tell how much I love you -- Christine 
You should have known that his massive ego wouldn’t keep the women away forever. Hell, it certainly didn’t deter you. Much uglier douchebags have gotten far prettier girlfriends than they deserved.
You closed your fingers around the watch and sighed. The fantasy you created for yourself, of slowly, deliberately earning his love was shattered. Christine already beat you to it, it seemed. You tried to smother the part of you that resented this person for her exclusive right to Master Strange's affections. You didn't know her, but you loathed her. And you felt filthy for it.
With a heavy heart, you brought the stupid, criminally expensive little timepiece back to its rightful owner. 
"Here's your all-important watch, master." You mumbled, placing it on the bedside table. 
"I know I told you I would give you space to question things," He said, swiping it from the table and expertly affixing it around his wrist. "But I'd really appreciate it if you didn't question this." 
You tried to sound as non-passive-aggressive as you could. You attempted a more forgiving tone, but you couldn't hide your hurt. "It's fine. I don't care." 
"I didn't mean to get short with you, [F/N]." His voice softened. "I'm sorry. But this watch-" 
"It's fine." You cut him off, peering at the floor. 
"It was a gift." He finished anyway. 
You felt the lump in your throat rising. You knew what the watch represented and you wanted to smash it to pieces. Along with the sting of rejection, you felt the sting of tears in your eyes. "I know. I saw the engraving."
"She died two years ago." He lowered his head. 
Suddenly, all your ill will towards this woman turned into guilt. 
"I'm sorry to hear that." You said. "I can't imagine what it's like to lose someone who loved you so much." 
"She had agreed to come to a speaking engagement with me. As a second chance, and-" Pain wrapped his voice. He closed his hand tightly around the watch and held it close to his chest. "Have you ever been in love before, [F/N]?"
From the way your heart ached, and how easily the thought of never being with him made you cry, you knew the answer. You'd been avoiding speaking it into being thus far, but you couldn't lie to yourself anymore.
"Yes." You whispered. 
"You'll learn soon enough." He muttered. "It only brings more suffering." 
The tears finally breached and you tried to blink them away. You didn't know what emotion was causing them: guilt, shame, contempt, anger, sadness-- they were all present.
"Master Strange, I-" you stuttered, tripping over your breath. "I respect what you've gone through, I really do, but it's not fair to take it out on me." 
"You're right." He conceded. "I'm sorry. Please, go get some sleep.”
You nodded. “Right.” 
You slept as late as you could get away with the next morning. In apprentice terms, that only meant sleeping until eight thirty. Your dailies could wait an extra hour while you laid in bed, feeling like garbage. 
You stumbled down the spiral staircase in your pajamas. No bra, no makeup and no effort. You didn’t even run a brush through your hair. Why try, you thought. Why make an effort for the man who would never see you as anything but the help? 
When you saw the piano, though, you did a full 180.
In the living area was a French cherry baby grand piano that definitely was not there before. You certainly would have noticed it before. You placed your phone on the counter and approached the new addition. 
As if the memories were woven into the very muscles and ligaments of your fingers, you ran down a few octaves of C Major. The keys were smooth as porcelain and the sound that emanated from the instrument was next to heavenly. 
A bright orange post-it note was stuck to the music rack. 
“Love of my Life”, Queen, A Night at the Opera. 1975 
Was this a request, or an admission of wrong? Whatever the case, it made you smile. 
"You weren't being entirely honest with me, Butterfingers." He said, randomly materializing behind you. 
You turned around on the piano bench and looked up at him. "What was I not honest about?" 
"I'm so glad you asked." He sat down on the bench next to you, phone in hand. "Because when you said you used to play piano, you didn't specify you were actually a student prodigy." 
Sure enough, on his phone, he was scrolling through your Instagram. Dozens of videos of a much younger [F/N] playing hundreds of different songs, singing with too many vocal runs and doing so with the entire content of her soul behind the music. 
"Student prodigy is a bit strong." You turned your head to hide your blush. 
He scrolled up and found a picture of a young, zit-faced teenage [F/N] holding an acceptance letter. "Last I checked, Juilliard doesn't give full-ride scholarships to just anyone." 
You covered your face with your hands, smothering an embarrassed smile. "God, please. I'd rather you'd found my OnlyFans." 
He raised his eyebrows. "As tempting as that sounds, I'd still rather hear your explanation on this. Why did you give up on something you loved?"
You looked at him in surprise. "You really want to know?" 
"Well, I told you mine." He playfully nudged you in the side. 
You took a deep breath in. "Well, it was about two years ago, now-”
"Cheers to you, [F/N]!" Your best friend Holly raised her glass of champagne in your direction. "Juilliard ain't gonna know what hit ‘em."
"I'll drink to that." You said, bring your own flute up to your lips and taking a swig. You wretched in disgust as the vile liquid ran down your throat. "Or maybe I won't."
"You're gonna have to get used to it." Holly nudged you with her elbow. "I think most professional musicians are alcoholics."
You narrowed your eyes at her. "I don't think that's right."
"Is too." She smirked. "Conductors are mad strict. Abusive even. Drive musicians to drink all the time."
You laughed. "Is everything you know about the world of music from Whiplash?"
"And The Perfection." She added.
"Thank you, Holly." You said, attempting to take another sip of champagne, purely for dramatic effect. "Very cool."
You felt a pair of hands on your shoulders. "Hi, Holly. Enjoying the party?"
Holly took a step back. "Hey, Mrs. [L/N]. Yeah, it's great."
"I hope you don't mind," Your mom said, her fake nice voice eeking through her clenched teeth. "I need to borrow [F/N] for a few minutes."
Holly's face fell. "Sure. I'll catch up with you later, [F/N]."
Your mother tugged you off to the side. With a stressed huff, she began. "Jason is out in the fields with his ROTC friends."
"And what do you want me to do about that?" You asked, knowing her drunk self couldn't read your sarcastic tone.
"Could you go get him and bring him home?" She said, squeezing your upper arm.
"Are you kidding?" You spat.
"[F/N], he's drunk." She scolded. "Do you want him to get another strike on his record?"
"I don't care." You mumbled under your breath. "Have him call an uber. Hell, let him sleep it off in the field. Not my problem."
"You know what he's like when he's drunk." She rationalized. "He gets rowdy. It had better be you."
You tensed up. "No. Holly and I are going to the French Quarter. I don't have time to babysit Jason."
"Just pick him up on your way there?" She pleaded. "It won't take long."
You knew this wasn't going to stop. "Fine, but this is the last time."
You were both dressed far too well to be trekking through the swampy ass nowhere when you should have been fucking your way through the French Quarter. Luckily for your evening plans, all you needed to do was follow the sound of gunshots.
You slammed the car door shut and Holly followed suit. Finding him was the easy part. The hard part was hauling his drunk ass back home.
"Fun's over, shithead." You announced, heels sinking into the sod as you spoke. You didn't have much trouble projecting over the gunfire and getting their attention.
"Shit, [F/N]?" Jason sputtered, so drunk he could barely keep his head straight.
"Holy shit, I didn't even recognize you in that dress." One of his dumb fuck friends added. He jabbed Jason in the side. "Why didn't you tell me your sister's hot?"
"Buster, I-'' You clenched your teeth. "I don't care if you live or die, but my mom needs me to bring Jason home."
"If you get in the car now, we won't have to use the chloroform." Holly added.
Jason scratched the back of his head with the barrel of his gun, then pointed it at you. "You're gonna have to make me."
"Jesus fucking Christ!" You exclaimed, hitting the deck. "What the fuck, Jason!?"
Jason and his dumbass friends laughed. "You should have seen the look on your face, [F/N]!"
"Put down the fucking gun-" You seethed. "And get in the fucking car."
He lowered the gun and looked like he was going to concede. Just when you thought he would cooperate, he stuck it up again. He keeled over in a fit of laughter when you and Holly panicked again.
"Look at them!" He shouted. "They're so fucking scared!"
You knew out in the middle of the swamp, nobody could hear you scream. So you used it to your advantage.
"Jason, you're going in the car, or under it." You raised your voice. "I will mow your drunk ass down like eight day old roadkill right here in this field and you will be LUCKY if anyone finds your bloated, shit-covered remains before the crocodiles get a whiff of you."
That seemed to get his attention.
"Sorry, boys." He pouted. "You heard her."
He had to 'get you' one final time, though. Only that time, the gun went off. Just centimeters from your ear. You clutched the side of your head, trying to drown out the deafening ringing with your screams.
You vaguely remembered Holly pistol-whipping Jason before loading you into the car to drive you to the hospital, leaving him desolate and drunk in the field.
"It was a one-in-a-million shot." The otolaryngologist tried not to sound impressed at what was clearly some kind of anomaly very few got to witness in a medical career. "When the bullet fired, the gunpowder traveled down your ear canal, burning the cells of your auditory nervous system and... singing your eardrum... clean off."
Your eyes widened. "Off?!"
The doctor lowered her head. "I'm sorry, Miss [L/N]. I'm afraid you'll never return to full hearing again."
You didn't want to kill the messenger. You knew she was only doing her job. "Are you fucking kidding me?!"
"If we could do a tympanoplasty, which, given the condition of the drum, is unlikely-" she began. "There would still be no way to fully repair the hair cells along the ear canal."
You took deep breaths to try and quell your simmering rage. "I'm leaving for Juilliard in three months."
"Hearing aid technology has improved significantly over the last decade." She said, a somewhat hopeful upturn in her voice.
That was when your mother decided to join in on the conversation. "Oh, we can't afford that."
You thought you were going to crush your teeth into bits from how tightly your jaw was clenched in fury. "Take it out of Jason's college fund, then."
"Oh, [F/N]." She said as if you had just told the funniest joke imaginable. "Please. That wouldn't be fair to Jason."
"You can afford to send that blithering idiot to the Citadel." You hissed. "You can afford to buy me a hearing aid so I can play piano."
"Beethoven was entirely deaf." Your mom pointed out. "And he became the greatest composer of all time. It's really just mind over matter, sweetie-"
"Sure, that makes perfect sense!" You plastered on a deranged smile, feeling driven to the brink of madness. "I can repair my destroyed eardrum with the power of positive thinking! Jason gets thirty-five thousand dollars a year to play soldier, but I have to just use my imagination."
She covered her face with her hands as if she was being attacked and went into kicked-puppy mode. "Don't be mad at Jason, [F/N]. He didn't mean to hurt you-"
"Fuck this." You said, releasing all your tension in those two words. "Fuck all of this. I'm tired of you defending that chauvinist asshole. The next time you see me will be when one of us is dead."
"Where are you going?!" She wailed.
You snatched your purse from the table and threw it over your shoulder. "I'm moving out."
“Disgraced at age nineteen?" Master Strange said, leaning back on the piano. "Let me guess, you turned to alcohol to cope?"
"You'd think, but actually no." You shook your head. The tone of the conversation had taken a sharp left turn from sadness to dry, apathetic amusement. "I probably would have if I could have afforded it."
"You missed out." He said. "Drinking a whole bottle of eighty year old scotch was definitely the highlight of my grieving period."
You'd never joined the clauses 'Master Strange' and 'drunk off his ass' in the same sentence before then. It was an odd mental picture for sure. One you needed to see to believe.
"I got desperate." You admitted. "Luckily, New Orleans had a lot to offer someone like me, so I didn't have to go far to find people claiming to have answers. But it was all essential oils, incense, binaural beats-"
"I'm sorry," he cut in. "What kind of dickhead suggests binaural beats to someone with only one functioning ear?"
You threw up your hands. "Right? Doesn't make sense. Anyway, I came across a woman named Mistress Fantina and she pointed me in the right direction. How to heal my body through control of my spirit."
He looked at you with that fascination of the human body characteristic of those in the medical field. "It worked, I assume?"
"I figured it out." You shrugged. "But I got so invested in the Mystic Arts that I forgot all about Juilliard. Became a full-time student. Ever since, I never once thought about returning to my old life."
"I suppose if I'd discovered this world because I had lost, say, my ability to perform surgery, it would be hard to leave it behind and return to the operating room." He thought out loud. Sighing, he closed his hand over his watch. "But no matter how medical science evolves, you can't reverse death."
You let the quiet linger for a moment.
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monsterenergysimp · 4 years
Text
Forgetful
Or, the four times you flirted with corpse and the one time he flirted back
corpse husband x fem! reader // coffee shop au
summary: you work at a café and get a new regular
request: okay i have a request could you please write about corpse and a fem! reader and she works at a coffee shop and she always writes something cute on his cup and he eventually asks her out or something like that! also i love your writing!! ❤️❤️
warnings: cursing like once or twice 
word count: 1.3 k
tag list: @watermelon-mess @oldblackandwhitetown @susceptible-but-siriusexual @gday5sos  @ashanti-granville @03ohj @djxrin @grapewish @crapimahuman @saturn2000 @whatawonderfulusername @johnjacobjingleheimerschmidt @lauramacch @socialdesires @teaspill8 @whathasateezdonetome @seutarose @whiteblacknothingpanda
notes: This is proof read but I could have missed some stuff. I’m back from my tiny and unofficial hiatus and I’m gonna start writing again. I just had a ton of school stuff on my plate but I’m back and gonna be writing more. I have some great requests I wanna get through. Thank you for your request and your kind words nonnie I really hope you like it. I hope everuone enjoys :) 
main blog: @itsmysleepover
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“That’ll be $3.45,” you said smiling as you handed the customer their tea. It was dark and the café was closing in about 15 minutes. You were ready to go home and relax after such a stressful day of school and work. You leaned over the counter and twisted the rings on your finger. You heard the door open and you looked up. A guy wearing all black, and a mask walked in. You stood up and got ready to take his order.  
“Welcome, how can I help you?” You asked with your customer service voice once he reached the counter. “Can I have a small hot chocolate and uh- that sandwich please?” He said in an incredibly deep voice while pointing to a sandwich behind you. You nodded and rang him up. You picked up the small cup and your marker. “Your name please.”
“Uh... Corpse,” he said. You looked at him for a second to make sure he was serious and wrote the name down. You decided to draw a little smile on the cup. You got the milk and put it in the kettle. As you waited for the milk to get to the right temperature you looked over at him.
“You have nice hair,” you blurted, catching the mysterious man off guard. “Thank you.”
You finished making his hot chocolate and placed the lid on the cup. You walked back to the counter and handed him the cup. As you did so your fingers grazed his and you looked into his eyes. “Thank you for comi- oh my god your sandwich I’m so sorry I almost forgot!”
You rushed to the small refrigerator behind you and grabbed the sandwich he was referring to earlier. You walked back and handed it to him. “I’m sorry about that, I promise I won’t forget next time,” you told him and smiled at him genuinely, not your customer service smile.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
It was near closing time and you were wiping down tables in the café. You had to get to your apartment and finish an essay but after that, you didn’t have much to do. You heard the front door open and looked up to see the same guy from last time walk in. This is the second day in a row he comes right before closing. You racked your brain trying to remember his name, but you knew it was him.
You walked over to the counter and got ready to take his order. “Same as last time?” You asked him. He looked taken aback by the fact you remembered him. “Can I have a croissant this time instead?” He asked and you nodded. You rang him up and took one of the last three croissants out of the display. You put it in one of the paper bags and placed it on the counter. You went to work on his hot chocolate. You picked up the cup and your marker. What was his name?
The milk finished warming and you finished making the hot chocolate. He was the only person here; you could very well leave the cup blank. There would be zero repercussions but you’ve been doing this job for so long leaving a cup blank felt wrong.  
Instead, you scribbled the word sunshine on the cup and filled it with the chocolate. Remembering what happened last time you placed the cup on the table and smiled at him. “There you go. Thank you for coming.”  
“Thank you.” He picked up the cup and began to walk out of the café. You waited for him to leave before you began to wipe down the tables again. He stopped in his tracks and looked back at you. He held his cup up to show you the writing and you felt your face heat up a bit. You just smiled and gave him a thumbs up. Even through his mask, you could tell he was smiling from the way his eyes crinkled. He turned around, walked out of the café, and you began to wipe down the counter.
“Corpse! His name is Corpse!”
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
You were sitting at one of the tables, you should have been wiping down, scrolling through social media. You heard the door open and looked up. Corpse walked in. You smiled at him and walked behind the counter. “Are you starting to become one of my regulars; same as usual?” you asked him.
He chuckled and looked through the display at all the pastries. “Yeah, thanks. I tried stopping by yesterday but you weren’t here.”
“I don’t work Thursdays. And on Fridays, I open shop instead of close.”
“Guess I’ll never see you on Fridays.”
“There are ways to work around that.” You wrote his name with a small heart and poured the chocolate into the small cup and handed it to him. He inspected the cup and looked up at you.
“You remembered my name this time,” he said and chuckled. “Do you smell something burning?”
You sniffed the air and looked over to where you prepared his hot chocolate. “Ah shit, the kettle!”
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
You sat at one of the tables waiting for Corpse to walk in any minute. He’s been showing up consistently for the past week. You tied your hair back and made yourself a cup of tea. You enjoyed your tea and once you finished the door opened. Corpse walked in and you smiled at him. “If it isn’t my favorite customer,” you said as you prepared his hot chocolate.
“How was your day?” He asked when he reached the counter.
“Uneventful. Just some school, now work.” You walked back to the counter and leaned over, resting on your elbows. “But you walking in definitely made it a lot better.”
“Me buying hot chocolate made your day better?”
“You don’t even need to buy the chocolate, you just need to show up.” You smiled up at him and went to finish making his hot chocolate. You picked up the cup and wrote “my sunshine corpse :)” on the side. You placed the hot chocolate on the counter. He saw what you wrote and chuckled at it. “And to prove my point your hot chocolate will be on the house. And the last croissant!”
“Did you forget you don’t own the place, you don’t have the right to do that!” He said giggling.
“See that’s where you’re wrong pretty boy; from the hours of 8 to 9 pm I’m here alone and that makes me the queen of the coffee shop.”
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
You prepared the hot chocolate for Corpse so when he came in it was ready to go. You put the milk in the kettle and cut up the chocolate tablet. The door opened, you looked back and saw Corpse walking in. “Are you making my hot chocolate already?” He asked as he approached the counter.
“Thought I’d get a head start,” you said and continued what you were doing. “Don’t want to keep you waiting too long.”
“I’m fine staying here forever as long as I’m with you.” Your face started heating up and you giggled nervously. You picked up a small cup and thought about what you could write on it. You decided to just write his name and draw a smile on his cup. You filled it and held it out for him to take. Your fingers grazed like the first time you gave him his hot chocolate. “You told me you don’t work the closing shift on Fridays, right?” You nodded. “Wanna see each other on Friday night, and y’know work around that.”
You picked up your marker and a small cup and scribbled on it. “Here’s my number, so you don’t forget.”
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