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onlyjaeyun · 1 year

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I can’t stop thinking about angry sex with jake because someone was jealous and attention starved (real) but then reviving the warmest and softest aftercare, like him holding you close to his chest and playing with your hair and calling you his princess with his thick accent after saying and calling you the most vile and loathsome words imaginable to man. GAH DAMN IM SO DOWN BAD 🫠

-🗝️

URGH YES!!! (deffo not my best and barely any dialogue but mostly bc i have a similar full length fic in the making so stay tuned!🎀🧸)

— cw: jealousy, possessiveness, sugarcoated degradation, slight mean dom!jake, name calling but super cute aftercare

It's so not like Jake to lash out or go absolutely crazy because of his jealousy because he's confident and trusts you, yet some people just like to test their luck and after the two of you hadn't seen each other in a while because you both got busier at work, he's been on the edge already and this particular night out was just the last push.

But he can't help himself. Not only has he missed everything about you, he also just had to watch the way one guy after the other asked for your number or to dance with you, suddenly turning one of his best friend's birthday party into an event he wished would have gotten cancelled.

Jake tries his very best to stay calm and composed but by the time you politely reject the fourth guy within ten minutes, he's made up his mind. He has to take you home and claim what belongs to him, there's absolutely no other way for him to get over these heavy feelings in his veins and to his luck, you're more than just happy to oblige.

To you, the drive home is comfortable and quiet, your shared playlist running quietly in the background as you enjoy the coolness of the perfect summer night, not realising your boyfriend's been tolding onto the steering wheel like his life depends on it.

By the time you get home, however, jaeyun is quick to let you know exactly how he feels. Gently pushes you against the wall in the hallway, pretty hand firmly wrapped around your neck as he presses his whole body against yours and you finally take notice of the bulge in his pants.

But you're not given the time to actually process it all, as jake pulls you into a sloppy kiss, sucking on your tongue and harshly biting your bottom lip until you're too weak to keep the strength in your legs and he actually doesn't stop you from falling onto your knees.

Jake's quick to unbotton his pants and gently tap the leaking tip of his cock against your cheeks and your pretty lips, his eyes hooded and dark as they watch the way you don't hesitate to wrap your fingers around his big cock and give his angey tip a quick kitten lick.

"Don't tease me, baby", Jake finally speaks uftee keeping quiet for over thirty minutes and you whimper as soon ss you hear his voice, "i'm not in the mood for more teasing. let me fuck that pretty face of yours yeah?"

Spends a good amount of time thrusting his cock into your pretty mouth, makes sure you take it all becaude he knowd you can, you're his good girl after, yet gives you the time to gasp for air every time you gently tap against his wrist.

Jaeyun's never been one to go too rough on you in bef but after gicing it a few tries both of you have started enjoying it to the fullest, establishing lines and rules, setting boundaries and quickly clearing out any questions to make sure it all goes smoothly.

And that's why he doesn't hesitate to push your face into the mattres, flipping your stupidly short skirt over your ass and revealing your pretty cunt to his hungry eyes, yet not wasting any more time on foreplay. Usually Jake never passes the opportunity to bury his face in your pussy but he can't take it anymore.

Every pore in his body is screaming for the feeling of your tight walls hugging his thick cock in ways only you've managed to make him feel, and before your fucked out brain can even handle every touch of his, you let out a loud gasp at the sudden stretch from his thick tip.

"J-Jaeyun", you whisper and reach around yourself to hold onto his wrist, only for him to take both of yours into one of his big hands and hold them against your lower back.

"You can take it, pretty girl", he hisses and pushes another inch inside of your pretty cunt, trying his very best to stay calm because even if he's mad, jake would never want you to be in actual pain, "gotta fuck and fill this pretty pussy up or I'm going to go crazy."

And that's when you manage to realise that this is not your usual boyfriend but a version you're rather not so used to, yet definitely take liking in whenever he does appear. Jake might not like his own jealous side, but you've come to love it because not a night like this has passed where he didn't fuck you to sleep from how eager and angry he was.

This one is definitely not an exception. His thrusts are harssh and fast, pretty hands roaming your body and roughly groping every bit of flesh they find as he lands spank after spank on your sore cheeks, pushing you deeper and deeper into the sweet haze of your pleasure. His deep grunts and guttural moans quickly meet your high pitched and breathy ones in the thick air of your shared bedroom and if it wasn't for the way he was pounding you into the mattress, you would have paid much more attention to his sweet noises.

Jake loses himself in the feeling of your tight cunt, profanities and promises falling past his swollen lips as he talks about all the things he wanted to do to yoj with those fuckers watching, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as soon as he feels you clenching harder around him because of his possessive words.

You have absolutely no idea how long he fucks you or how many times you cum before he does but by the time he finally pulls you flat up against his sweat covered chest, hand wrapped around your throat and hips quickly snapping up to fuck himself deeper inside of you, you're almost completely gone.

He cums with a loud, raspy moan if your name and three thick spurts of his cum coating the inside of your cunt in the prettiesg shades of white, leaving him absolutely breathless and finally ridden of all those negative feelings.

but he wouldn't be your jake if he didn't run you a bath and massaged your back afterwards, littering your whole body in kisses and praising you for doing so well and taking everything he's given you like the good girl you are. derinitely wakes you up to make up for his lack of head from earlier and also because he can't go to sleep without your cum coating his tongue, promising to go easy on you only for you to feel even more sore by the time you finally fall asleep in his strong arms 🥺

#enhypen smut #jake sim smut #; drabbles #; angel boy

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talshiargirlfriend · 4 months

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More ✨vibes✨ from the fake dating spy au for @candiedsumire and @deadheaddaisy

Since the night of the reception, when they had publicly initiated their “relationship” and T’Pol had come back to Trip’s apartment with him she had just… stayed. Having a Vulcan operative living with him, eating his food, using his shower, and leaving her shampoo scent on his pillows should’ve been strange, but it really wasn’t.

In fact, the weirdest thing about it was how not-that-weird it was. She was quiet and considerate when they had downtime. One night she’d even agreed to watch a movie with him.

She’d caught him staring at her lips following a rather intense kissing scene, but that really was not his fault. He’d expressed cultural curiosity about the differences in ways humans and Vulcans express affection, which was totally relevant to their current predicament, thank you very much. Apparently they do kiss on the mouth sometimes, and that was simply an interesting fact Trip had learned and then not devoted a single waking moment to considering since then.

Basically having her there was like having a really polite roommate that everyone assumed he was sleeping with. So, exactly like his sophomore year of college. He really should call Jeff one of these days.

Between the actual warp drive work, heart attacks, explosions, and shacking up with a Vulcan bodyguard - or “colleague and apparent romantic partner” in her words - and all the accompanying not-weirdness, he hadn’t really considered the calendar or outside life much lately.

Until said colleague and apparent romantic partner sat across the table from him at breakfast and said, “Despite the setbacks the project has experienced, the design is very promising. Stenn agrees we should begin testing on Monday as originally planned.”

“Yeah, I think so too. Wait. On Monday? Monday is the seventh?”

She looked at him curiously, “Yes.”

Trip frowned, “That means tomorrow’s the fifth.”

“That is how dates typically work…”

He flashed her a sour look, “I’m supposed to go to my sister’s graduation this weekend. With … you know, everything, that’s been going on I completely forgot.”

He covered his face in frustration. After a moment he peeked at her from beneath his hand, “Fancy a trip to Florida?”

- - -

Trip bounced his knee rapidly as he waited for the call to connect. A view of his parents’ kitchen lit up the screen.

“You better not be calling to cancel! You promised your sister you’d be here!”

“Well, hello to you too, Mom,” Trip grumbled good-naturedly.

Elaine Tucker set her knife on the kitchen counter, wiped her hands on a towel and looked directly at the screen with a warm smile. “Hi sweetheart.”

Trip’s eyes crinkled up as he basked in parental affection.

“So, are you calling to cancel?” his mother asked as she resumed slicing strawberries.

“No, but, uh… there might be a slight change of plans…” he rubbed the back of his neck unconsciously. “I know it’s short notice, but would you mind if I bring someone?”

There was a brief pause before Elaine asked, “Someone as in a work colleague or someone as in a girlfriend?”

“Well, kinda both, actually.” Stick as close to the truth as possible, he reminded himself.

“T’Pol and I met a couple months ago and really hit it off. She’s one of the Vulcan scientists on the Technology Integration Team. She’s great, really smart and never lets me get away with anything. I think you’ll really like her.”

“Triiip,” Elaine drew out in pained voice, looking up at the ceiling in dismay.

Startled, Trip stared at the screen in concern. He really hadn’t expected that kind of reaction, “Look, Mom, if it’s inconvenient we can—“

“What? Don’t be silly, baby,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Of course you and your guest are both welcome here.”

She huffed. “Your daddy saw a photo of you two at that gala thing a couple weeks back and he insisted you were together. Said that was the face of a man in love if he ever saw one and he should know. I told him not to believe rumors, and now I have to admit he was right! How could you do this to me, son?” she whined playfully.

Trip’s cheeks flushed. He was pretty sure T’Pol could hear the entire conversation from the next room. He laughed awkwardly, “Uh, sorry?”

Elaine smiled again as she slid the sliced berries from the chopping board into a bowl. “Don’t be sorry, he was due a win, and I’m happy you’re happy. So you’re coming in tonight? Dad’s got your bed made up for you.”

“Yeah, we’ll—“

“—Wait, she’s Vulcan.”

“Uh, yeah…”

“Well, I can’t feed her cheesecake! Ok, I gotta go. Call when you’re on the way in. I love you!”

“Love you too,” Trip blinked at the blank screen.

T’Pol stepped into the kitchen and placed her duffel bag on the table beside him, “Your mother is very expressive.”

Trip snorted,”Is that the polite Vulcan way of saying dramatic?”

T’Pol looked down with a twitch of her lips, “I believe there is a human idiom about apple trees that may be applicable.”

#trip x t'pol #star trek enterprise #spy-ay-ay-ay #au fic #my fic #fic I’m not writing #vibes for sumire #fake dating #no plot just vibes

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apprenticestanheight · 7 months

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All is Well That Ends Well - Lawrence Gordon x gn! afab! reader - Part IV

Annnnnnnnnd, an hour and eleven minutes later, here's part four!! the next parts will be released on the seventh and fourteenth and then, unless I can manage to get a lot of writing done in not a lot of time, there'll probably be a bit of a delay between the end of The Beginning and the beginning of The Middle (I promise better titles will be created for these sections I am just. I am just terrible at titling and pull stuff out of a hat a lot of the time) but at the latest, the Middle will start in late march-early april.

Fic type - this one is so smutty, but it's also fluffy, so it's fluff that leads up into smut

Warnings - minors,, DO NOT FUCKING INTERACT THANK YOU, oral, cockwarming, edging (kind of??) mentions of the loss of Lawrences foot + prosthetics and pain and itching associated with wearing them too long

A few days pass, and on that Wednesday, after all of your classes were cancelled from a snowstorm, you wake up at eight and make a list with Aurelie over the phone of things you need to grab, organized by room for your own convenience.

For your bedroom you need to get a nightstand, wardrobe, a lamp or two, and better sheets and blankets than the ones you’d had for a decade, which were on their last legs as it were.

For the bathrooms—of which there are two, one in the primary suite and the other across the hall from one of the other two bedrooms—you need shower curtains, bathmats, and small bins to hold random essentials like pads, tampons, Band-Aids and anything else someone might need short notice, as well as trash cans and garbage bags accordingly.

The living and dining rooms are where stuff gets pricey—you need a couch, love seat, rocking chair, coffee table, television and a stand, curtains, maybe a rug and definitely a dining table.

For one of the other two bedrooms, you require an additional bed and curtains so that it can serve as the guest space. For the other of the two bedrooms, you need curtains, bookshelves, a comfy daybed, a desk and a rolling chair so that it can act as a library-slash-office space for studying and reading.

Since you figure Lawrence is working, Aurelie helps you get most of it. A lot of it came from IKEA for the sake of your own convenience but you refused, blatantly, to buy a bed or couch or even so much as a rocking chair from there, so it was a fairly cheap trip.

You grab the bed from the same spot you got the one you’d bought for yourself six months before, when the bed you’d had got lumpy and it became clear just how old it was—a local furniture store that was a twenty minute drive out and did same-day delivery fee at no additional cost.

The rocking chair, couch, coffee table, love seat, wardrobe and daybed were purchased from a furniture store one of your bosses had recommended. It was a forty minute drive from the condo but so worth it as they delivered to your apartment for only an additional $20.

Once the furniture shopping is complete you grab groceries and are home to unload them at half past four, making quick work of it because all you want to do is lie on your couch and make a bad decision or two.

You call Lawrence, exhausted but wanting to test out the couch in more ways than just sitting on the damn thing, at five o’clock on the dot. He answers on the second ring.

“How’d furniture shopping go?” He greets.

You bite your lip to fend off a smile. “Aurelie did it with me—sorry for not calling you, I figured you were working and the places I went to for the bigger things do delivery—and now I’m just sitting, lonely. Kind of want to order take out, honestly, but Aurelie has studying to do and I’m assuming you’re still at work.”

“Just left, actually,” Lawrence says. “I can come over if you’d like? We can talk for a bit and, assuming there are groceries in your fridge today unlike yesterday, I can make dinner. Takeaway is decent but food that takes effort is good, too.”

“I didn’t come close to spending a quarter of the rainy day fund,” you say. “I told myself I’d spend five thousand at most, and I spent close to five thousand, yeah, but still. The way I see it, I have sixty dollars to blow on take out and if you really must cook me dinner, you can do so Friday night. I like things more even and unless you’d prefer that I spent the $60 on weed, I’d really like to see you.”

Lawrence laughs. “I think I’ve realized what you aim to get from me,” he says. “I thought I’d be the one making those types of calls or coming into the condo with my spare key and groping you while you read whichever book you’re reading at that point in time.”

You laugh seductively. “That’ll come up in the next few weeks, I imagine,” you say. “However, right now I am exhausted, need something in my something and this couch is way too big for one person. Grabbed an L shaped one so that I could take a nap on it on a lazier Sunday afternoon but today was not lazy or a Sunday. Today was productive and if I don’t see you in the next thirty minutes, I will drive my ass back to where I vaguely remember your house being and knock on a door, one that I can only I hope is yours so that I can make the first $2000 you’ll give me on whichever day within the next week so worth your while that it hurts.”

“You’ll get it Saturday,” Lawrence says. “The first installment.”

“Get your ass to this condo or so help me God—”

“I’ll be there in fifteen,” Lawrence laughs. “Mouthing me off is not recommended.”

“There can’t be too many punishments out there. I like it when pain gets involved. Being thrown and smacked around just gets me wet.”

“There are ways to torture you without being aggressive. Be a good puppy and wait for me, yeah?”

You roll your eyes. One sexual encounter a few days prior and he knows, already, that calling you his puppy is the quickest way to get you to submit.

“Yeah, Lawrence,” you say. “Of course.”

“Good,” he says. “You can wait fifteen minutes without touching yourself, can’t you?”

Without meaning to, you grind helplessly against the hem of your jeans.

“Mhm.”

“Good puppy.”

And then the call is done, and you’re going to your bedroom to swap your day clothes for something more comfortable—a black hoodie you’d owned since you started in the PhD program at 26 that you’d accidentally ordered around six sizes too big—and strip of everything else.

You head back into the living room, clad in nothing but a baggy hoodie. It leaves your clit, folds, and breasts open to the wintery cold updraft, which forces you to grab a throw blanket and toss it over your legs.

The ten minutes to proceed those events are spent reading a romance novel that you’d put on your coffee table for decoration, and when you hear the sound of Lawrences spare key entering the slot on the door, you grin.

He closes the door behind him lightly, grins when he meets your gaze, and you look him over.

He looks good in a way that makes you almost insatiable—navy blue button up shirt, black slacks, white doctors coat hanging loosely off his shoulders. His hair is handsomely unkempt, and he looks like the picture of laidback professionalism.

He takes the white coat off, drapes it over the top of your loveseat.

“You look cute,” he says. “Waited for me on the couch the entire time?”

You nod, standing up without thinking twice about it. “You said to wait. I did.”

He steps towards you, intentionally walking slowly. “Are you wearing anything beneath the hoodie, puppy?”

You shake your head. “I’m not. I always wear the hoodie like this—it’s comfortable for me,” it’s a lie, of course, but you just have to hope it’s not a very obvious one.

“Is it really?” He asks. When you bite your lip, he laughs.

“I don’t like liars,” he says. “If you decided to forgo anything beneath it because of me, you’re allowed to be honest. I find honesty preferable to lies, even if the way that you bite your lip and how fucking good you look makes me want to bend you over the arm of the couch and use you to my preference.”

You nod. “I wore it like this for conveniences sake,” you admit. “Was a bit warm, too, and needed to cool off, even though I regretted that almost instantly because it's the fucking winter. Figured you’d have an easier time touching me if I wore nothing underneath the sweater.”

Lawrence takes another step and is finally within arms reach.

“I’ll buy us dinner,” he says. “You can use the sixty for a nice lingerie set if you want, or maybe a few new books, but I have to get you back for thinking of how to dress in a manner that conveniences me.”

“You’re giving me four thousand dollars this month. I am not letting you buy dinner.”

“New rule, then,” he says. “Rule number four: in addition to the four thousand dollars monthly, I get to buy you dinner and gifts whenever I please.”

“You’re only doing that out of spite,” you say pointedly. “You said four thousand was the max amount you could give me while living within your means.”

“I said it was the amount I could give you, not the max amount,” Lawrence says. “Realistically I could afford close to five thousand, but I figured that spoiling you to some extent would come into play at one point or the next, so I rounded down.”

“Fine,” you nod. “I accept the rule. What’s your favorite color?”

“That’s a tie between dark blue, dark green, and maroon,” he says. “Why do you ask?”

You bite your bottom lip lightly. “While I am privy to owning a decent set to feel confident once in a while, I do want it to look so good that you can’t resist the urge to see what’s underneath. Your favorite color is the place to start in figuring that out, one would think.”

He puts one hand on your hip, a smirk kicking up the corner of his mouth. “I won’t be needed at work until nine tomorrow morning,” he says. “I’m going to make this worth it for us both, mm?”

You nod. All you want him to do is either start rubbing your clit while he kisses you, or for his fingers to be in your mouth again.

“Hows the oral fixation?”

“Still doing it’s thing,” you say, biting your lip again. “Why?”

“Be a good puppy for me and kneel, Y/N.”

You do as he says without having to think twice, becoming eye-level with his half hard cock and almost moaning as you look at it.

“What do you wanna do from where you are?” Your gaze goes to his.

Your tongue pokes out from between your lips, and suddenly thoughts of sucking him off cloud your mind entirely.

“Go on, puppy. Speak.��

“Wanna suck you off,” you whisper. “Wanna—oh my God. Lawrence please—”

“Do as you please, puppy,” he whispers. “I’m not gonna tell you no.”

You lean in, smelling him through his pants before you undo the zipper, button, and pull them and his boxers down, taking his half hard cock into your mouth within seconds.

“Good—holy fuck,” Lawrence moans. “Your mouth is amazing.”

You hum in response, tongue finding the underside of his length and setting a pace that clearly drives Lawrence a little insane. When a hand falls to your hair and he sets a pace of his own, you let him, just enjoying the feeling of his cock in your mouth.

He finishes in your mouth a few minutes later, and you swallow his cum without thinking. It makes him laugh even as he apologises for coming so suddenly, wiping what of it had dribbled to your chin after he’s helped you stand.

He presses his thumb against your bottom lip and you take it into your mouth, getting the cum off of it and grinning slightly when he thanks you for the deed.

He sits down on the long end of the couch, having pulled his boxers and his pants back up.

His gaze meets yours, and he smirks. “C’mere, puppy. Sit on my lap.”

You do as he tells you, sitting on his lap so that your thighs sit on either side of his. His hands find your hips pretty quickly, and all you want to do is kiss him, but you refrain.

“Did Aurelie offer to help, or did you ask?” Lawrence asks.

“I called,” you laugh a bit. “Defeating the hyper independence one phone call at time, I guess. Plus, she wasn’t working and told me to call her if I needed anything. My mind has been pretty fuzzy since last night, when I tried to think of everything I’d need to buy, and I called her to avoid having a breakdown. Without her helping me figure stuff out and then going with me to grab it I would’ve cried a lot more today, to say the least of it.”

“Good,” Lawrence says. “And you called me because you were alone, horny, and needing company?”

You nod. “I know our first—encounter—was the other day, but I just—”

Lawrence nods like he understands, and part of you believes that he does. “Can I kiss you, puppy?”

“Please, Lawrence.”

And then his lips are on yours, and he’s letting you press his back against the couch as your hands cup his face and sit at the bottom end of his neck, and it’s so, so easy to get lost in it.

Lawrences tongue darts out to your bottom lip while one of his hands moves from your hip to your clit, resulting in the sound of a hushed gasp befalling your lips. Lawrence uses it to his advantage, tongue finding its way into your mouth while he rubs excruciatingly slow circles around your clit.

“Lawrence,” you moan, desperately clenching around nothing in order to avoid grinding down onto him. “Oh, Lawrence. Please.”

“Not yet, puppy,” he whispers, pulling away from your lips just enough to talk. “You got a bit mouthy earlier, yeah?”

You bite your lip, nodding slightly.

“Well, I believe I made a point about there being ways to punish you that don’t involve pain?”

“Mm,” you hum. “You’re not going to be needed at work until nine tomorrow, which means—”

“Realistically, I don’t have a need to be home until around one, which means I have you until at least midnight, which is, what? Six and a half hours out?”

“Lawrence—” you whimper. “Please, sir. Please don’t make me wait that long.”

“Aw, you think using an honorific is gonna make me take mercy? Puppy, I love it when you address me as such, but you did this to yourself, yeah? You can’t tell me what to do, sweetness. I’m the one who does the ordering. Be a good puppy for the next thirty minutes and I promise, the punishment stops and the reward begins, okay?”

You clench around air again, nod and let him go back to kissing you.

He kisses you until your head is spinning, and when he pulls away, you find that it’s only been a few minutes. Your head rests on his shoulder as you catch your breath, both of his hands returning to your hips.

“Take my cock out of my boxers for me, yeah?”

“Had you kept the pants and boxers off, it would’ve been easier,” you sass before you can stop yourself.

Lawrences response is a nod, a kiss to the side of your head. “Do as I say, puppy,” he says. “Good puppies get treats, and if you don’t do as I say, you’ll just be punished until midnight, and when I leave, you’ll have gotten a free dinner but sexually? You’ll be dissatisfied for at least another few days.”

“Sorry, Lawrence.” You lift yourself off him and pull his pants and boxers down, waiting for him to do the last of the work before you sit on his lap again, hovering just over his length.

“It’s okay, puppy,” he whispers, kissing your cheekbone. “You’re allowed to stop hovering.”

“If I don’t, then you’ll—I’ll—do you want us to use condoms?”

“I got a vasectomy in October, and Plan B pills are a thing,” he says. “You said you were clear for STIs, so I’m not worried. Go on, Y/N, but only if you’re comfortable.”

You slide yourself onto him, letting yourself be split open by his length, watching the way that he reacts to it.

The way that Lawrence reacts has to be one of the most attractive things you’ve ever seen—he rests his arms on the back of the couch, and as soon as you’ve taken the tip, his head tilts back.

When you’re close to bottoming out, a long, depraved, drawn out “fuck,” falls from his gorgeous lips.

When you do bottom out, you let yourself moan, let your head fall onto Lawrences shoulder.

“Gotta stay still, puppy,” Lawrence says. “No moving, yeah?”

You whimper, biting down onto Lawrences shoulder in order to keep yourself from doing so.

“I know, Y/N. Twenty minutes until six, mm?” He laughs, one hand slipping beneath the sweater you wear. “You can’t react, either. No clenching, no moving, nothing. Biting, moaning, and whimpering are allowed, though. You’re cute when you get needy, so it seems.”

His hand finds your lower stomach and he presses down, and you have to fight every single reactive urge to do as you’ve been told. Instead, you moan lewdly, the pressure of your bite against his clothed shoulder increasing.

“Good puppy,” he praises, his voice a whisper. “Oh, you really are a good listener. You like how this feels?”

“Lawrence,” you moan desperately. “’M sorry about the bite—I’m scared I might’ve bruised.”

You kiss the area of his shoulder you’d bitten while he laughs.

“You’re just doing as I told you, yeah? The pain wasn’t bad compared to the other stuff I’ve been through.”

At that, you remember his foot, or lack thereof, and just how long he's probably been wearing his prosthesis, which just has to hurt by that point. But no, of course you'd completely forgotten about potential discomfort when horny and wanting, though it was something you had taken account for when you'd talked in not-sexually-driven situations.

“Shit!” You curse. “I’m so sorry—I just—”

“I try not to make a huge deal of it,” he says. “It’s really no concern.”

When he finds that you still look a little unsure, he laughs and presses a kiss to your lips. “It’s all right, puppy. I promise, I'm fine. Nothing hurts, aches, or itches as far as my footless leg is concerned, yeah? Just relax for me, mm?”

You nod, still feeling guilty. Lawrence presses a kiss to your forehead and the next twenty minutes are spent with him letting you thrust once or twice every few minutes, his fingers rubbing slow circles around your clit.

When six hits, Lawrence beams. “You’re allowed to move,” he says. “But don’t come yet, yeah? Wanna spread you out on this couch.”

You do as he says, setting a pace that’s just quick enough to make you teeter along the edge within minutes but not enough to come. When Lawrence has had enough, he tells you as much, telling you to get off of him and lie on your back.

You do as he tells you, watching him take off his shirt and tie like it’s a strip show. When finally his lips are on you again, he’s kissing your thighs and making his way to where you need him most.

Once there, he presses a kiss against your clit, then runs his tongue gently through your folds.

“You’re so wet,” he laughs. “You really do get turned on easily, mm?”

Your response comes as a half-laugh, half whimper, and it just eggs Lawrence on. His tongue attaches itself to your clit and you clench around pretty much nothing, one hand finding your nipple beneath the sweater while the other grips the back of the couch like it’s a lifeline.

“Lawrence,” you moan as his lips and tongue move down to your hole. You pinch your nipple between your fingers and Lawence laughs at how desperate you sound for him.

His nose presses against your clit and you grind against him, moaning lewdly. “You're using your fucking nose—ohmygod,” you moan, having a split second wherein you don’t care about how loud you’re being. “Oh, fuck, Lawrence—”

Although he’d only gotten divorced four, maybe five months beforehand, it’s clear that he knows what he’s doing—whether it’s muscle memory from the early days of his marriage or something he’d picked up in the time since his divorce, you’re glad for it.

“Lawrence—ohmyfuckinggod—” you grind against his face and he laughs, nodding slightly.

“Use me, baby,” he says, pressing a kiss to your clit. “Use my mouth, yeah? Don’t worry about anything, just focus on yourself.”

You do as he says, letting yourself set a pace while Lawrrences hands move up to your stomach.

“Fuck, Lawrence,” you moan, inches away from releasing over his face. “Lawrence—I—”

“Go ahead,” he presses his tongue flat against your clit as you grind against him and that’s basically the final straw—when he buries his face in your cunt again, you cum over his face with your thighs pressing against the sides of it, holding him in place slightly.

He stays with you through the aftershocks and comes up to kiss you once all is said and done, and once again—depraved but so fucking hot because you can taste yourself on his tongue. The kiss is intense but also everything you need to relax, and when Lawrence pulls away, you tell him there are wash cloths in the bathroom and that he’s welcome to take a shower if he sees fit, but you’re exhausted and sprawled out over the couch is the way you aim to stay.

He leaves your side and is back twenty minutes later with a damp washcloth, which he runs over your exposed cunt and then himself. He helps you get to standing and leads you to the primary suite, grabbing you a pair of sweatpants and a baggy sweater after locating them easily in your wardrobe. You wobble back to the living room while Lawrence gets dressed again, plopping into the rocking chair you’ve placed in the corner of the room.

Lawrence checks the couch for stains and both of you are surprised to find that there are none, though Lawrence cleans the area anyway before he calls and orders delivery to your apartment.

“I know we said no staying post-coitus,” you murmur. “But—you have until midnight, yeah? Stay for a while.”

Lawrence nods. “I’ll at least stay for a while after dinner,” he says. You stand, sit in the love seat. Lawrence sits down next to you, wraps an arm around your shoulders. “I do want to get to know you more—I feel like we don’t know each other as well as we should.”

You smirk. “I’m entitled to my secrets, and you are to yours.”

“Yes, that is a fair point, but part of me wants to know everything about you that’s not a secret, Y/N.”

“Don’t forget one of the first rules we made—you’re not allowed to fall in love with me.”

“I wouldn’t hate loving you in the platonic sense of the word,” Lawrence says. “That’s what I aim to do.”

You hum, press a kiss to his shoulder. “’Mkay,” you nod. “Loving me platonically is allowed, says the judge of whatever the fuck this is going to turn into.”

Lawrence laughs.

For a split second, you feel the urge to freeze the moment in time, to treasure the simple domesticity of it.

You want to stay in that pocket of time forever, Lawrences arm wrapped around your shoulders, your cheek pressed just above his chest, so blissful that nothing else in the world matters to you or him, so well hidden away from the rest of the world that nothing can find you or be bothered with looking.

You brush it off quickly—the first rule of the agreement had been that you weren’t allowed to fall in love with each other. You were not going to start falling for a man you could not have, one that would not want you in turn.

#lawrence gordon #lawrence gordon x reader #saw (2004)#saw posting #sawposting

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heartbeatan · 1 year

Text

The Art of Revenge (Chapter 2)

Return to Chapter 1.

Return to Table of Contents.

Return to Jungkook Fanfictions.

Return to One Nights Series.

Return to Masterlist.

Chapter 2

Two days ago, you walked in on Chris and Stephanie. You had spent the next day visiting your lawyer, who was a friend of yours from college, preparing a formal eviction notice for Chris, since you weren’t common law and your name was the only one on the deed. When you pulled up to the tiny curbside firm, it was clear by the unsurprised and sympathetic way she greeted you that she had heard the news. You visited a realtor, who was also a friend of yours, and it was clear she knew too. Word had obviously spread around your circle of friends. Nonetheless, she started the paperwork to put your home on the market - since you wanted nothing more than to escape the image of the deflowering of your kitchen. You also went about canceling everything you possibly could cancel about the wedding, pocketing every last cent that hadn’t been put towards the deposits.

By the late afternoon, you returned to the hotel room - not daring to stop by your house, knowing Chris would be there waiting for you. Instead, you looked to your phone again to find your email inbox ransacked, which could only mean one thing… the mothers had been informed. They had clearly received some sort of hint of infidelity, but had somehow warped themselves into a mindset that you were somehow responsible, and even more so irresponsible for not telling anyone where you were. Chris and Stephanie had clearly been yapping to get ahead of the scandal. It baffled you how two people who betrayed you would so shamelessly air their crimes to the whole damn town. It was yet another prompt to just power down your device. Last thing you needed was some bullshit lecture on how to save face by continuing to live a lie. There was some relief in your inbox, however. Your rapid STD test came back clean.

You sprawled your body across the bed, groaning as your sore muscles and joints stretched over the flat mattress. You were exhausted, and mindless - yet you also found yourself to be incredibly restless.

You were afraid of that moment - the moment when you stopped moving, and would once again be alone with your own thoughts. You feared your mind would be swarmed with the images of what you had seen in your kitchen, or would obsess over every little detail of your past that your paranoia could twist into signs of this affair. You didn’t know if it had been going on for weeks, months, or years, or if you had walked in on a one-night stand. But it didn’t really matter, your soul didn’t seem to care. Surprisingly, instead of thinking about them, all you could think about was Jungkook.

You had told him you would be up there in three days. It was at least a day's drive to get to him, and you had wanted time to get your break-up affairs in order before you made the long trek. But laying there, ignoring the list of things you still had to do, all you could think of was how you could escape. How he could help you escape.

You looked at your phone again, now noticing the condolence messages flooding your inbox from the effects of the town’s gossip line. You ignored them too, and pulled up Jungkook’s number.

You didn’t call him this time, you decided on a text.

Y/N: Is it alright if I come tomorrow instead of Friday? 8:49 PM JK: Of course. Text me when you’ve got an ETA. 8:49 PM

You hesitated about what to say next - unsure of how you were supposed to sign-off after you rescheduled your revenge dick appointment. You settled on a thumbs-up, and decided not to care if it was the wrong answer. You were supposed to be out of this Tinder-esq stage of your life, so you balked at the idea of diving right back in and learning the day's latest formalities. When Jungkook replied with a winky face, you felt the corner of your lips tug into a faint smile. It was strange… you were used to smiling everyday… but in the short past 26 hours you had spent miserable, you felt like you had forgotten how to. But somehow, a simple emoji from a man you hardly knew was breaking you back in.

You looked at the clock. It was already dark outside, and Jungkook was at least a fourteen hour drive away. The wise thing would be to go to sleep, and leave first thing in the morning. But again… nothing you were doing was wise. You were impulsive, and angry, and vengeful… and restless…

Without thinking much about it, you peeled yourself from your bed, padded your way into the bathroom to take a shower - and within the hour, you were packed up and checked out of your hotel room, on the highway north towards Jungkook’s remote town.

You drove through the night, and stopped early morning at a discount store in one of the passing villages. You didn’t have much with you - just the clothes on your back, and the bag of honeymoon lingerie which you had picked up on your way back home when you discovered the affair. It had been mocking you the whole ride with its no-return presence. Regardless, if your night with Jungkook was going to go as planned, clothes weren’t going to be a necessity, so you didn’t need much. You grabbed some $8 leggings, a few $3 tank tops, deodorant, toothbrush, hairbrush, razors, and underwear. You would have liked to grab something sexy, but there wasn’t much the discount bins offered in terms of intimates, and your bridal lingerie felt too perverse to wear.

As you rolled into the final hour of your trip, a mysterious feeling began to crawl through your system. All the negative energy from home and your relationships had been chasing you the whole way down the empty highway. But it was like those demons were blocked by an invisible salt line that guarded the border into Jungkook’s county. You were no longer angry, or bitter, or sad. You were… excited. Excited in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. Excited in a way that only the prospect of pure, uninhibited, no-strings attached sex could bring you. Like those first few times with that college fuckbuddy of yours - before you caught your agonizing feelings for him. In all these years, you hadn’t let yourself fantasize about Jungkook - even though deep down you wanted to. Thinking about him that way ironically felt like a betrayal to Stephanie. But now you could let those flood gates open. You wondered what kind of lover he was. Was he sweet? Rough? Both? Did he talk dirty? Have kinks? Did he like pleasuring women or did he use them like his personal fuck toy? What kinds of noises did he make when he slipped his cock into a woman? Did his body twitch and pulse when he came? As a person, he had always been such a mystery to you, and since Stephanie had never hooked up with him, he was a mystery as a lover as well - a mystery you were about to uncover. The purpose of fucking Jungkook was to leave Stephanie a jealous, spiteful mess on the floor, but it would be even more karmic if the man had the power to fuck you into forgetting she existed at all.

So, that’s how you found yourself parked on the shoulder of the highway, staring at your engagement photo, just thirty minutes away from Jungkook’s house.

you had another million missed calls, the most recent being from your step-mother. You hadn't heard a thing from your father, so you figured she was acting as his agent. He would be worried, you knew that, but he wasn't great at having difficult conversations, so you weren't surprised that she was the one calling you - but you were nonetheless disappointed. Before calling her back, you decided to check her last email to gauge where she currently stood.

It was a mistake...

She ranted about how you needed to forgive Chris, and how if you didn't, you would be expected to reimburse her and your father for all they had expended on your wedding - which was nothing... She must've been referring to hotel deposits and her dress.

"Bitch," you muttered into the car, just as a truck whizzed by you on the highway. You scrolled through a few more notifications, assessing their general context by the first few paragraphs which were visible from the homepage, but ultimately decided that you would continue to ice everyone out for a few more days. Then you came to the winky face...

Jungkook.

You hadn't spoken to him since the rescheduling the night before. That was probably stupid on your part. He likely expected you to arrive early evening, but since you had impulsively decided to drive through the night without sending word, you were now only thirty-minutes away, and he might not even be home, nonetheless awake.

You typed out a simple message, letting him know how close you were, then hovered over the send button as you questioned whether or not you should send it. You thought about finding another motel room and just holding up there until the afternoon – maybe take a well needed nap. You also thought again about just turning around and leaving this place and Jungkook all together.

Your phone sprang to life, as Chris' name popped onto the screen with an incoming call. You sighed, forgetting about your Jungkook dilemma, now focusing on the should-I-finally-talk-to-Chris crisis. What could he possibly say? Was he going to leave you for Stephanie, or was he going to try to make this right? How could he even begin to make this right? Did you want him to make it right? Had you worked out what you wanted to say to him?

After the fourth ring, you swiped the "pick-up" button, and put the phone to your ear. You didn't greet him, but you didn't really need to, because Chris' voice immediately began to call to you through the receiver.

"Y/N? Y/N are you there?" he asked repeatedly, his voice strained and remorseful.

Good, you thought. You were happy to hear his agony. Regardless, you felt the urge to hang right back up, figuring things could only go downhill from there. But you didn’t. Instead, you waited silently on the other end, feeling your breath begin to lengthen and tighten in a seething hiss. You didn't want to say anything, didn't want him to have the privilege of hearing your voice, but as he pleaded and begged for you to give him some indication you were listening, you eventually responded.

"I'm here."

"Babe, I'm so sorry! Please come home, I can explain everything."

You rolled your eyes. What on earth was there to be explained? He had sex with another woman, just a month away from your wedding. "You can explain now. You have 3 minutes."

He choked, a clear sign that he wasn't prepared to actually explain anything. "Please, we should talk face to face. I'll come to you, just tell me where you are - everyone is so worried about you."

You then felt a new rage bubble up inside. The only reason why “everyone was worried” was because Chris had the nerve to spread your humiliation across town before you even had the chance to process it. You swallowed, trying to keep your words from escaping your lips in screams.

"Exactly why is everyone worried about me, Chris?"

He paused again, hearing the venom in your voice, and realizing he was treading into dangerous territory he hadn't anticipated. "Because, um, they know you're upset."

"And how would they know I was upset, Chris? I certainly didn't tell anybody that you were caught fucking my best friend."

"I… we… We were just worried about you, that's all. We were calling around, trying to find out where you had gone so we knew you were all right.”

You felt your face heat. We. He was talking about him and Stephanie as a "we" now? On top of that, he was seriously suggesting you would become "unsafe" because of them? Like they had that sort of power over you? You were utterly insulted by the implication. If you could've teleported yourself in front of them both right then, you would show them exactly how "unsafe" you could become. But you couldn't...

You looked at your surroundings, appreciating the remote, frontier feelings you got from the old, tall green trees and rocky landscape before you. You were miles away from Chris, and Stephanie, and your stepmother, and everyone who either pitied you or blamed you. You were not far from a man whom you hardly knew, but somehow you knew he wouldn’t pigeonhole you into either of those categories... He just wanted to fuck - that thought made you smile and caused a naughty tingle to reverberate through your guts.

"Please, Y/N," Chris pleaded with you. "I love you. I want to marry you. This was just a stupid mistake. It only happened once and it'll never happen again, I swear. Just come home, and I'll answer any questions you have."

You placed the phone on the dashboard and set it to speaker. You then began shuffling through your bag to find your emergency makeup products. "I'm not coming home,” you announced. “I'm up north."

"Why?" he asked. The confusion in his voice painted a clear picture in your mind of the stupid look he currently had on his face.

"I'm visiting Jungkook. You remember him. Your brother's friend."

"Your..." he stuttered again. He was seriously confused now. That name would have been the last thing he'd have expected to hear. "Why are you visiting him?"

You flipped down the mirror and began inspecting yourself, applying a light stain to your lips. With your limited supplies, there wasn’t much else you could correct about your appearance, but pretending to fix yourself up felt like something a powerful, cold-hearted seductress in a movie would do, and that was the confidence you craved right then.

"Because," you chirped as you gently wiped away the errant line of your lip colour, "I called him."

The phone went silent, and you smiled menacingly as you imagined how tortured Chris was becoming.

He started to say one thing, then stopped, then tried to ask something else, then stopped, until finally he settled on asking simply, "Why him?"

You considered telling him the real reason: to get back at Stephanie. But you decided since Jungkook was also irritating Chris, you wanted to twist the dagger.

"I just really needed someone to talk to,” your tone was condescending, and laced with implication – just enough for Chris to understand that sex was a possibility, but enough nuance to drive him crazy wondering if you were really going to fuck another man.

“I didn’t think you two were friends,” Chris said after a beat.

“Well, it didn’t take a lot of convincing on his part. I guess he wants to get to know me better.”

The moment you said it, your insides began to flutter. You and Jungkook were going to get to know each other better – you were just going to get to know each other better in the biblical sense. The notion somehow granted you a modicum of relief from your anger, and replaced the gap with erotic excitement. You were now bored of this conversation with Chris, and you knew now that you weren’t going to be checking into another motel room.

“Please, Y/N, don’t do this,” Chris spoke slow, and his voice shook. You were impressed that he wasn’t angry, and glad that he was hurting. “We can fix this. I will do anything. I love you. Please just come home.”

You took a deep inhale, then exhaled long and slow. You really had no idea what you should be doing. Was turning the car around and hearing Chris out the "right thing to do?" Was throwing away your two-year relationship too rash? Was fucking another man for revenge too ruthless and reckless? You really didn’t know the answer to what you should do – but you did know what you wanted to do…

“Goodbye, Chris,” you said, clicking the end call button. Before Chris had the chance to call you back, you dialed Jungkook’s number, and were pleased when he picked up on the second ring.

“You on the road?” he asked, not bothering with the formality of a hello.

“I drove all night,” you announced without a hint of remorse. “I’m half an hour away.”

“Mm,” Jungkook hummed in amusement, and you weren’t quite sure what it meant.

“Is that a problem?”

“No, not at all. It’s a welcomed surprise.”

You bit your lip, unsure if he was flirting with you or pacifying you. “I just couldn’t sleep last night. I know, I seem insane.”

“No, you don’t,” he said. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want. I’m just… glad what you’re doing is working out in my favour.”

You bit harder on your lip as the corner of your mouth fought to wind up into a grin. He was definitely flirting, and it felt pretty damn good.

“Here I thought it was you who was doing me a favour.”

“Ha!” he laughed, and a part of you wished you were there to witness it. You hadn’t seen a lot of his smile over the years – but on the rare occasions that you did, you found it to be infectious. “Well… we haven’t done anything yet. So, how about you get here, and we can sort out whose reaping the greater benefits.”

Your face and shoulders scrunched as you felt the onset of a giddy blush. “Sure. I turn left at the mill, right?”

“Yeah. You want me to meet you so you don’t get lost?”

“No, no. I think I’ll be okay.”

“Alright. Call me if you need help and I’ll come find you.”

“Thanks,” you said, then paused as you once again wondered how to end your communications with this man. “See you soon then I guess.”

“Yeah. I look forward to, uh... seeing you,” he responded, rounding the words with salacious implication. Then he hung up.

You reached into your shopping bag for your deodorant, some wipes, toothbrush, and one of your new tank tops – desiring a costume change and a little freshening up in case you got to Jungkook’s house and things got hot and heavy quickly. Your phone rang a few more times while you did, and you ignored it. You didn’t care who was calling or what they had to say. You also didn’t care that you had flashed a pick-up truck full of redneck frat boys as you switched out your top.

Quickly enough, you were back on the road, powering along the highway feeling refreshed in every sense. Your bitterness was gone, your libido was in full swing, and your pits no longer smelled like you had spent 14 hours in a car.

The road into Jungkook’s house was basically a narrow, dirt path, and you had to drive rather slowly to avoid the potholes and forest debris – but it was difficult to keep a slow pace, since your heart was pounding a mile faster with each passing minute. You were relieved when you recognized the turn into his hidden driveway, and you felt your knuckles relax over the steering wheel as your car crested into the clearing, and his cabin-esq house came into view. You crawled the car into what looked like a parking space. You wanted to take another minute, or two, or twenty, to sit in your car and hype yourself up to just get out. But Jungkook would surely know you were there already. The front of his vaulted home was mostly comprised of floor to ceiling windows, which looked out over the lawn and valley far beyond the tree line. You already looked insane for calling him, propositioning him, then driving through the night – you didn’t need to become another untouchably sweaty mess while you physically and emotionally melted down in his driveway under the hot spring sun. So, you grabbed your shopping bag, which you had stuff with all your present belongings, exited the car, and walked up to his front door.

You stood on the stoop, staring at the door as you took another heavy breath, then reached forward to ring the bell. The house was quiet from inside for a long time, making you worry he was going to force you to ring the bell again. But eventually, you heard the soft padding of movement as someone crossed the floor towards the front door. You heard the click of the doorknob, the snap of the sticky weatherstripping as the door broke away from the frame, and then… he was there.

Jungkook, standing tall and solid before you, with every ounce of his sex appeal on display. He had changed in so many ways since the last time you saw him. His face was sharper and more masculine. His arm which was once covered in dainty tattoos was now covered from wrist to shoulder in an array of heavy ink and colour. He was bigger… everywhere. The simple act of holding his door open put his solid biceps and the veins that traced his forearms on full display. His neck was thicker, and the solid plains of his chest were noticeable beneath his plain white t-shirt. Hell, it was possible he even grew taller – you felt tiny in his shadow. His hair was longer than you had seen it before – almost shoulder length, the top half held back in the epitome of an artist’s bun, aside from long strands which acted as bangs to fall carelessly into his eyes.

You stopped breathing for a millisecond. Not long ago you thought you were nearly invisible to this man. Yet, in your time of need, this Adonis had invited you of all people to his home and promised you an exchange of unadulterated pleasure.

He looked you over, just as you looked him over – but his face gave away nothing, whereas yours you were sure gave away everything. He may have changed in many ways since the last time you saw him, but his impassive, signature nonchalance was still very much present. Or was it? For just a brief moment, your eyes locked, and you thought you saw heat burning behind his cool-guy visage. You really hoped that’s what you were seeing. Fucking this man would be great, you were sure, but being truly desired by him would be fucking magnificent.

After a silent moment between you - one you were surprised wasn’t at all awkward - he stepped aside, making way for you to enter his home. Without a word between you, you stepped across the threshold, and into the foyer as Jungkook closed the door behind you.

Go to Chapter 3.

#bts smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #jjk x y/n

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linklethehistorian · 7 months

Text

So I very rarely get super personal on this blog just for the sake of it, but given there was already a much…darker version of this post sitting in drafts until just a short while ago, and maybe someone here might need to hear an uplifting real-life story tonight, I figured I’d go ahead and draft up and post this anyway.

See, I’m sure all of y’all here have noticed my relative lack of activity with any large project over the past five months, but what y’all don’t know is that this has largely been due to some pretty serious health issues — not the least of all being that…over the past…three-ish months of those five, I have had to stare down the very real possibility that I might have a pretty serious form of Leukemia. I was bounced from doctor to doctor about this, test after test, and not much of it looked good, if I’m being perfectly honest.

During all of that time up to today, I had been sitting around contemplating much of my existence, and how, at last, when the most difficult news of all came, I would break that news to everyone — what I would do, say, etc. I must’ve run through all the scenarios a million times, drafted up at least ten different letters for different people in my life, even recorded a cover of a song through which I wanted to say goodbye to everyone here, if it came to it (and which still sits in my video gallery currently, as though still waiting to be used).

Needless to say, although they had their moments as life always does, these past months have been overall a living Hell, and it only got progressively worse with every new piece of concerning news, up until today — the day I finally was able to go see the oncologist. (Doctors are often booked out for months around here rn — weeks at best.)

Prior to the visit, I had been informed by my GP that the oncologist would overlook all of my results ahead of time, and call to cancel the visit with me herself if she found/determined there was nothing worth being concerned over.

Well, the cancel call never came, so I think you can understand when I say that I went in full expectation of the worst case scenario; I mean, clearly she had thought it critical enough to keep the appointment, so that kind of spoke volumes for itself even without having seen her.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget the long time spent alone in the doctor’s office, waiting for her to arrive: there was some of the most gorgeous, peaceful instrumental music you could imagine playing softly, and as I was sitting there, forms in hand, staring down the room around me, I was just thinking to myself how that music clearly said exactly what this place was: it’s a place where people go to get basically the worst news of their lives imaginable, and try their best to cope with and struggle against their mortal illnesses. And this music was so pretty and peaceful because the patients needed it.

And here I was. Today I was one of those patients.

I sat there contemplating over my life and realizing that this was going to be the last moment that anything was even somewhat normal again for me. The last moments before life changing news.

I can’t begin to explain how that feels.

…And then the doctor came in and she was immediately telling me, like, more or less, “Oh honey, why are you here? lol We tried to call you to tell you not to come in — you don’t need all this stress for no reason, go on home, there’s nothing to worry about, you’re fine.”

Apparently she had, in fact, made an attempt to contact me because she wanted to spare me the stress of coming after reviewing the results and deciding I was fine, just like my GP said, but the call just hadn’t gone through.

The relief that I have inside of me today knowing that I am okay is beyond anything I could ever put into words. I cried the entire several hour drive home, and even now, as I type this up, I find myself tearing up just a little again in sheer gratitude and amazement and comfort.

Even if things had gone badly, I wouldn’t have had any regrets, but truly nothing makes me happier to know that I will be around for a long, long while here still — with the people and things that I love, with the strangers, with the haters, and everyone else in between.

Please never take life for granted. Live in the present and try to be as grateful for every moment as you possibly can. Life really is beautiful and precious and so, so worth living, so live it to the fullest and always remember that there can be hope.

No matter how bad things seem, there’s always a chance for hope to shine through.

It did for me. It can for you too.

I love you all so much.

#linklethehistorian #thoughts #my thoughts #non fandom #nonfandom #advice #…kinda? Not exactly tho #life has been rough and I plan to take a little while to finally just breathe #do things as they come #I’m just so thankful to be alive

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aonoexpat · 1 year

Text

SO UHM I GOT A VAN

27-05-2023

It all happened a lot more quickly than I had expected, and it's not over yet, but as I type these words I can look out my window at the first ever vehicle in my name that's going to be my home for the foreseeable future and it's very surreal.

He's a Nissan Elgrand E50 from 2000, and all I could think when I first saw him was ✨Here comes the booooy ✨, hence the he/him pronouns. The previous owners seem to disagree because they had named it Elsie. To honour that I think I'll go with Elrond, after the Elven king from Lord of the Rings :)

The hunt was a bit of a rollercoaster. I used Trademe and Facebook marketplace (ugh I know, I wish there was another way) to browse vans in the Te Whanganui-a-tara area because I wanted to be able to easily go and see the vans before committing. Of course by searching locally I limited myself, but still managed to find a good group of candidates.

It was really tricky at first because I had no clue what to look for. I'd never owned a car before, and still don't have a lot of experience driving. I was extremely lucky to have my wonderful friends to rely on, who were happy to search with me and tell me the pros and cons about the cars we found ❤️❤️❤️

I learned a whole bunch about cars in the process, and ended up judging the listed vans on the following points:

WOF: this stands for Warrant Of Fitness (Dutch people would know this as APK), and means that the car has been found to mechanically sound an safe to drive. You do not want to buy a car without a valid WOF, for it will likely not pass the tests again, and then you won't be allowed to take it on the road;

Rego: short for registration. This is Aotearoa's version of what the Dutch know as wegenbelasting, or road tax. You register the car to be allowed to use the roads. There are no tests associated with this, but it's common courtesy to sell a car with a bit of rego left on it;

Self-contained certification: a car can be certified self-contained, which means a person can sleep or camp in it without needing external facilities such as lavatories or kitchens. Freedom camping sites can require anybody parking there to display a certification, or you get sent away. The rules for this certification are being changed at the moment, but in short they require the car to have a (portable) toilet, a sink, enough fresh and gray water, an evacuation hose and a rubbish bin. My van is certified self-contained until December 2023, which means I'll be able to freedom camp with it for a while. I would like to get the certification renewed for two more years, as a certified self-contained car is a lot easier to resell when the time comes;

Mileage, or traveled distance: a car that has driven fewer kilometers in its lifetime is preferable over one that has driven a lot. I've noticed that with backpacker vans, <200.000 km is quite low, as some go up to 700.000+. The one I ended up buying has ~211.000 km to its name, so that was definitely acceptable;

Fuel type: a petrol engine seemed preferable over a diesel one, because diesel burns less efficiently which means more pollution (unless you've got a turbo engine). Because of that you have to pay an extra fee to travel with a diesel car. However, diesel is a lot cheaper, so financially it would be the more interesting choice. I ended up going for a petrol car because it was much cheaper than the diesel option I considered, so the cost got canceled out;

Fuel efficiency: over here this is measured in L/100km. If a car needs <10L/100km, you've got yourself a real nice one. Unfortunately mine does ~15L/100km, because it's a heavy van, but again it was quite cheap so I was happy to accept that;

Solar panel: I really wanted a car with a solar panel on top. That way I can use electricity in the car while it's parked, especially when I'll be staying in the same spot for a while and not using the engine to charge the car battery. Mine has a 110W solar panel on top that connects directly to an inverter/battery combination in the van, which outputs 12V as well as 110V, if I recall correctly. This means I can easily charge a phone as well as a laptop, or use an electric kettle;

Insulation: against the cold outside air (remember, it's winter here). This is something I only found in a van that was professionally set up and resold, and was not common. My van does not have insulation, but I think I'll be okay! I've got that hot water bottle from my last road trip, and I opted to buy a small electric blanket as well as a heavy-duty sleeping bag and some proper thermal clothes;

Seating area: I really wanted the bed in the van to be convertible to a couch, as I'd heard from others that it can get a bit annoying if you can only lie down in the back. Luckily mine can do that, and it even has a little table I can stick into the floor :)

There was another van that struck my fancy, or dare I say, I fell in love with a little bit. It was a really nicely converted Toyota Estima, a very popular make and model for backpacker cars over here. However, when I went to test drive it, the battery was miraculously flat, and after a close look at its service reports I couldn't trust that it would be mechanically okay for the trip I wanted to undertake. It broke my heart but I had to let it go. That had been the first one I went to see, so after that it felt like I was back at square one and the search was going to take forever. But then only two days later the deal was struck on Elrond, and suddenly I had my ticket to adventure! He seems a lot more reliable than the Estima, aside from some slightly worn brake pads and a cam belt that might need replacing soon (doesn't it sound like I KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT I can't believe it either). He also needs a new head unit that will hopefully allow me to play music and have a little rear-view camera for tight parking spots. This could possibly take up to a couple of weeks to get sorted.

I'll work on getting it set up a bit more to my liking tomorrow and will probably upload more details soon, but for now I really just wanted to share the big news!! I'm really excited about it, I feel a lot better mentally now that the whole search is behind me and I have a tangible next step. I genuinely can't wait to have it all finished and get it on the road. I drove it home by myself today and even though it was dark outside and I was scared, I managed just fine, and that gave me a huge confidence boost. I really feel like I'm going to be adventuring again, and I'm grateful for this opportunity 🥹

#aotearoa #backpacking #van life

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