#and most of my job is on the computer so its not nearly as hard on my body as fast food was

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

No guarantees but I might actually get to keep my job remotely!

[kdogreads]

Ooh I thought of one tony flirting with ny not knowing she's married to or dateing Gibbs.

SUCH A GOOD IDEA!! I hope you enjoy! :)

Check my masterlist for more indulgent Gibbs fics and follow #kdogreads to keep up on my newest posts! 💕

———

Are You Done?

Jethro Gibbs x f!reader

Warnings: just some flirty, jealous-ish fluff

“Ziva, Tony, McGee,” The honey-smoked voice you’d grown to love boomed across the bullpen, “On your feet — Someone for you to meet.”

The team gathered near where you stood alongside Jethro. All three sent reluctant smiles your way until Gibbs began to speak again. He introduced you formally with your first and last name, and the uninspiring title of “The new HR rep.”

Great, you thought, they’re gonna hate me already.

“Ha-alright,” Tony stuck his hand out to shake yours energetically, “It’s good to have another pretty face to share all my work problems with. Hey, you know, that new guy in legal is really getting under my skin; he’s so—“

“DiNozzo,” Jethro cut in, “Let her settle in before you start bellyaching, huh?”

You all let out a chuckle and the team retreated back to their desks. Jethro shot you a quick grin and nodded towards a nearby hallway before escorting you to your new office.

The next few hours went along as well as they could for the first day at a new job. You met your new coworkers, started to learn your way around the office, and took note of where the handsome Special Agent Gibbs spent most of his time.

——

As the evening wound down, you made your way back to where your day began to check in with investigative team — they had been the most welcoming to you all day, so you decided to make it a point to get to know them all better.

You weren’t surprised to see the whole crew still hard at work. Ziva was on and off the phone consistently, speaking a different language each time she started a new conversation. McGee seemed too engrossed in his screen and keyboard to notice the outside world. Tony was leaned back in his chair, slouched in a leisurely pose, going through some files that were overflowing with papers spilling out onto his lap.

Then there was Jethro. He looked stoic as ever with a few papers spread out over his desk, his gaze shifting from the neatly stacked documents to his computer screen and back again. His hand drifted over to his ever-full cup of coffee without taking his eyes away from his work. It was only when he placed the cup back into its spot in the corner of his desk that he noticed you entering their shared workspace.

The way he announced your name in greeting caused a smile to creep involuntarily across your face.

A simple, “Hi,” is all you could muster as you tried to gain your composure back.

“Ready to quit yet?” He quipped with that shit-eating grin you love so much spreading across his face.

You simply scoffed in response as he pulled up an extra chair for you to sit next to his desk and decompress. The quiet hum of the air conditioning was nearly lulling you to sleep until Tony made his way over and stopped in front of you, one arm leaning on a shelf and looking your way.

“Hey HR, how was your first day?” He asked you honestly, but you could see the wheels of flirtation spinning in his mind.

“It’s been,” You took a deep breath in and motioned to the stack of files spilling out of your bag, “A lot to take in.”

Tony chuckled and took a step closer to you, leaning in to pat you gently on the shoulder affectionately.

“A smart, beautiful woman like you?” He exhaled quickly like there was something hot in his mouth, “You can handle that and more, I’m sure of it.”

You smiled and shot him an, “Oh, thanks.” Jethro had warned you about Tony, and you just couldn’t wait to see how far he would let it go on before his protectiveness kicked into high gear. You swore you could almost feel the heat Jethro was giving off as jealousy crept up into his chest.

Tony went on picking your brain, polite as ever, but with a hint of playfulness that you knew had to be driving your boyfriend crazy.

“So,” Tony began after laughing about your shared love of coffee creamer more so than coffee, “What does your boyfriend do for a living?”

You hadn’t disclosed that you were in a relationship, but it was his age-old way of prying to see how much further he could take his flirting.

“He’s actually a federal agent, too, kinda like you,” You let your lips curl in a smirk and raised your eyebrows at him, taunting him to keep asking more questions.

“Oohh, so you like ‘em a little rough around the edges, huh?” The two of you laughed before he kept poking for more information, “So what is he? FBI? CIA? Don’t tell me it’s Secret Service?”

“Mmhmm, something like that,” You teased, leaning forward to grab a sip of your coffee, “Can’t spill all my secrets just yet, Tony.”

You heard Jethro let out a scoff, his finger tapping rapidly on his pen as the impatience invaded his senses more and more. He fidgeted a bit with a file before abruptly standing up, sending his chair flying back into the divider wall behind him, and took off somewhere around the corner.

“Jeez,” Tony grumbled, “He’s always in a bad mood.”

You exhaled sharply and grinned, “I’m sure he isn’t always be in a bad mood.”

Tony flashed his charming, pearly smile and shook his head endearingly, “You don’t know Gibbs like I do, sweetheart.”

You returned a salacious smile while Tony adjusts his stance to lean his relaxed frame closer to you. Your eyes lifted to meet his, a spirited glint in your eye as you see a handsome figure appear in the very corner of your peripheral.

“So, HR, I know a great Thai food place just down the road, whatcha say I take you there, show you some of our NCIS hospitality?” He grins confidently awaiting your answer, which he just knows will be a resounding “yes.”

Tony straightens up quickly as a sharp whap hits him in the back of the head. Your eyes widen in surprise, but crinkle into a laugh as soon as the realization hits you.

“DiNozzo,” The booming voice you’d come to know growled from behind Tony’s terrified face, “Are you done?”

“Ow! Sorry boss! Just talking, ah. Done with what again, sir?” He rubbed the back of his head and tried to shake off the embarrassment of being scolded by the boss in front of a woman he was trying to impress. He slinked back a step, allowing Jethro’s strong frame to come all the way into your view. His body language oozing with possessiveness and nerve.

“Done flirting with my woman,” He growled, his intensity stirring a fire deep within your belly.

You wished you’d had a camera in your hand to capture the look of sheer terror on Tony’s face. A laugh spilled out of your lips as he stuttered out something akin to an apology, an explanation, anything to keep Jethro from kicking him right in the ass.

You stood up to grant Jethro a quick peck on his rough lips before tucking into his shoulder, his hand placed firmly on your lower back.

“I’m sorry I let you keep going, Tony,” You apologized with a hint of sarcasm in your voice, “I just couldn’t help myself.” A deep, grumbling scoff vibrated out of Jethro’s chest as he shook his head, fighting desperately to keep a smirk from creeping onto his lips.

It was only now you thought to look around, realizing with a blush that everyone in the room was staring at you, eyes glued to this unfortunate and hilarious confrontation. You felt embarrassed for only a moment before Tony cleared his throat, his face still beet red and wide-eyed.

“It won’t happen again, boss and, uh, ma’am — boss ma’am, Mrs. boss, uh—“ Tony was back to his stumbling apology. You couldn’t help but let another laugh dance from your lips.

“Tony, you can still call by my name,” You smiled placing a reassuring pat on his shoulder, “Right, Jethro?” You shot him a look with a raised eyebrow, signaling him to cut Tony a break.

Jethro only hummed a soft “mmmhhmm” before clapping his hand softly to your back, pressing gently to guide you toward the elevator. You gratefully leaned into his touch and waved goodbye to the still-staring team.

“All of you, back to work, now,” Jethro demanded with force, and you had to stifle back the giggle threatening to escape. Everyone hurriedly opened their files and picked up their phones, not daring to piss Gibbs off any more.

The act dropped the second you stepped into the elevator. That deliciously snarky smile you love snaked onto Jethro’s face as he yanked you into a steamy kiss, laughing into your parted lips.

“Brat,” He growled into your ear, his hot breathe sending a shiver down your spine.

“You love it,” You tease back.

He tucks you into him for another quick embrace as the elevator comes to a stop just outside the parking garage. His lips brush quickly over your temple before sliding his hand down to intertwine while the elevator doors start to creak open.

“Yes, ma’am, I do”

[thegreatstoryteller]

The Great Shift: Speed Dating

Ok, so dating in your 30s can be hard. Even harder after the world has suddenly decided all of its inhabitants would suddenly swap bodies! If you thought it was hard to truly get to know someone before, it was nearly impossible now. You’d think that the differences and bodies people were exposed too would lead to more emotionally intelligent people, but no. Instead shallow just comes in all sorts of new flavors these days!

-

“Wassup I’m Aidan!.I’m 24, well now I’m 34 due to the shift. And well you can see I’ve got a lot of good assets to show.”

I rolled  my eyes as this wannabe tough guy was trying to impress me. Sure he had an incredibly built body and intricate tattoos, but it was all surface level!

“Nice to meet you Aidan. You go to all of these speed dating events without a shirt?” I asked gingerly sipping my water.

“Only when I’m talking to a handsome guy like yourself.”

Gag. If I had a dime for every post shift hottie said that. 

“Charming. So Aidan tell me about yourself. I mean before the shift what did you do for a living? What do you do now?” I asked.

He scoffs. “I used to be a computer programmer. You know boring office stuff. Then I swapped into this juggernaut and been living at the gym ever since. Quit my old boring work and been trying to become a trainer at my local gym.”

“So let me get this straight. You were able to sustain yourself on a safe indoor office job and now you’re trying to go into  a new occupation you have no experience in because you want to flaunt your muscles?” I inquired further arching my eyebrow.

“Um... when you put it like that...” Aidan stammered looking called out.

“Next!” I rang the bell on the table signalling the rotation and the next person to join my table. 

Aidan slumped his massive 6′5 frame away looking dejected, but as soon as he started flexing to himself he shrugged and moved on. Maybe another guy would like this wannabe muscle guy. I just hope he was so driven by those muscles he’d have the motivation to maintain them. So many people received huge powerful bodies, but without the knowledge to maintain them they just went to waste.

“Hey there sexy? Fred is the name, dating you is my game.” A beefy looking firefighter said, with a burgeoning gut about to strain his suspenders. 

“Wow. Coming on a bit strong Fred. Please. Start from the beginning.  Your name is Fred. Great. What’s with the fire fighter attire? Are you a fire fighter or was your body a fire fighter before the shift?” I asked wincing at this cringe intro.

He smiles and strokes his beard appreciatively while at the same time flexing his beefy arm. “Well I’m not... yet! This body used to be the best firefighter in the district! Then all of a sudden the shift happen and I go from university student studying engineering to the most buff in shape guy with 6 pack abs I’ve ever seen!”

I look down and notice the obvious lack of abs. “Ok. Makes sense... so now you’re trying to  be a firefighter? Just like your body before you. That’s... noble. I’m really glad to see you give back to the community.”

Fred smiled. “Thanks! I’ve been trying for awhile now, but I can’t get through the physical test! It’s like I’m not as strong as the guy who used this body. Weird. Right now I mostly play video games and stream shirtless in these suspenders. My viewers love seeing me. I’m FireXFighter69 on Twitch and YouTube! Check out my video on-”

“Next!” I say ringing the bell once more. 

“Damn. Didn’t work out... are you gonna finish your food there? You hardly touched it.” Fred pointed at the snacks provided at the table.

“Sure Fred. Good luck on your next date.” I said as Fred left with the plate of food.

Some people could be oblivious of their own faults and try way too hard. Am I asking too much for people to just be honest and not hide behind some sort of facade? I get people can be nervous, but it’s certainly better than trying to get to know a character who isn’t even real.

“Hey there bitch!”

“You’re hot as fuck and I know you need a real man to show you how it’s done.” 

I didn’t know how to respond to such an abrupt entrance. I thought Aidan was cringe, but this guy was a whole new level. Flexing in my face, flipping me off, calling me names? Was he trying to neg me in less than 5 minutes?

“I can see you’re stunned by my natural masculinity. I don’t blame you. I’m an older guy given a second chance in this buff young jock. I found myself out of shape at 50 thrown into this guy mid football game. I’m no stranger to the gym so i just buffed myself up even more than that kid could. Now I’m here and ready to fuck you. So. What do you say? Wanna get out of here and ditch all these idiots?”

“Next! Sooo much next! You don’t get to dominate the conversation like this And you are NOT the type for any reasonable person here. I hope you find some sub willing to put up with your shit.” I retorted with a glare.

I see the guy in front of me blanch embarrassed! “Bastard! You’d be lucky to have me. I oughta!” He raised his hand to slam the table! Or me! But soon security escorted him out.

“I.... wow. That’s the worst one to end on. But I might as well go. There are clearly not any guys for me here.” I was about to get up when this cuter guy came over.

“Hello! I... wow. I saw what happened. Great job for standing up to that guy. He seemed like such a creep. I’m Elijah by the way... were you heading out?”

I was caught off guard. This man was so handsome! He wasn’t posturing like the rest, but I still he was making an honest effort despite his trepedation. His voice faltered a bit, but its deep resonate tones made that sound sweet. He was holding himself in a reserved posture, but even as he nervously clasped his hands I could see biceps  raise and strain his shirt.

“I was... but I think I’d like to get to know you. I’m Omar. I just turned away a few guys who were being absolute jerks. How about you? Elijah was it?” I said a bit blushing.

“Yeah! Well I recently graduated post great shift. I finished my last semester at the local community college in a new body. I’m in my neighbors body. Big guy! Great beard, but I’m still getting used to maintaining it. I’ll admit. I’m working part time at the local library till I find a job more suitable for what I studied in school. I’m 22, but my new biological age is 35. I do some painting in my free time and love exploring new parts of the city now that a lot of it has been rebuilt since the shift.” Elijah explained.

“Oh! Have you checked out the bar across town? It used to be a gay bar called The Tank! Now it’s changed its name to The Sea! Since there’s so many more sexualities represented there!” I offered.

“Haha! Love that. That’s clever! The tank has gotten bigger! I get it! I uh... Maybe you and I could continue our conversation there, over drinks?” Elijah blushed.

“I’d like that. Let’s get out of here!” We both stood up and took each others hands. Gosh his were so warm. Not to mention they felt so strong. He’s got quite the grip! I took a few steps so enamored by him I nearly fell, until he caught me in his arms. My face went right across his chest as I looked up to him before standing back up.

“Thanks for the catch. I uh.. Wow. You’ve got quite the cologne. What’s that scent?” I asked so curiously.

“Oh! Sorry!” Elijah was blushing even more. “I’m not wearing any. That’s just how my body smells. Hope it wasn’t bad.”

My eyes widen again. “It’s fine. Perfect actually. I love it. Lead the way Elijah.”

Elijah giggled. Hearing such a deep voice let out something so whimsical was the cutest thing I’ve seen tonight.

“I feel so lucky walking out of this place with you Omar.” Elijah said.

“Oh come on. I’m sure you would’ve found an awesome guy to spend then night with. You’re quite the charmer.” I retorted.

“I’m not the one looking like Henry Cavil!” Elijah laughed.

We both laughed. It was true. Ever since I looked like a celeb dating has been so hard. People try so hard to impress me, that it was such a breath air to talk to Elijah like a normal person. 

“Well tonight I really do feel like the man of steel because you are making me quite hard.” I smirked at Elijah, now blushing to the max.

“I... I... normally cheesy lines like that don’t work on me, but coming for you I.... gosh let’s get to that bar!”

We ended up walking aware from that speed date very satisfied. Perhaps even the hot people need help finding love after the shift. Who knows. I never said I was perfect, but tonight I sure am excited to see how far Elijah and I go!

[tobiasdrake]

YES! Digimon Adventure 02, my favorite *starts rubbing hand together* i'm going to be so obnoxious.

Anyway since you're done with Adventure could you rank the Chosen Children up to now? I'm really interested in hearing your thoughts.

Let's see. Chosen Children from Most Favorite to Least Favorite, since I don't actually have any I dislike.

1 - Tachikawa Mimi. I'm sure there are no surprises about that one. Mimi's job is to be the relatable everykid. The one who acts the most like what an actual real-life ten-year-old thrown into this situation would act like. She cries, she screams, she wants to go home.

But she still pulls it together and has a lot to contribute all the same.

All of the kids do a great job of being relatable, honestly. But Mimi has the most interesting journey to me,

2 - Kido "Joe" Jou. You know, as a kid, I adored Yamato so much. He would have been my #2. But as an adult, I can't help but appreciate how hard Jou-senpai worked at the mostly thankless job of trying to be responsible for these kids.

He's just as scared and confused and lost as they are, and in the beginning the burden of responsibility weighs so heavily on him that it nearly breaks him. But he rises to the challenge. Even after they decide Taichi is officially team leader, Jou is always looking out for them, always trying to guide them as their senpai nonetheless.

Jou giving his life to save Takeru is my favorite Crest activation of the lot.

3 - Ishida "Matt" Yamato. He's still up there, just not as high as Jou. Yamato is the most damaged of the Chosen Children at the start, though it may not be immediately obvious. He comes into the series with more baggage than anyone. He's already carrying his parents' divorce on his back and emotionally spiraling down a defensive rabbit-hole before we even know his name.

Yamato isn't capable of being a selfish person, and that much is on display left and right. His kneejerk reactions are almost always for the betterment of the group. He can't help himself but to care about everyone else. But he's so messed up that he thinks that's a character flaw. Who he is and who he wants to be are miles apart, and who he wants to be kinda sucks so that's a good thing.

4 - Takenouchi Sora. Sora's carrying some damage on her heart as well. She's similar to Yamato, in that there's a stark disconnect in her character. Not who she is vs. who she wants to be, but rather who she is vs. who she thinks she has to be.

I love how much attention her dynamic with her mom gets in the Vamdemon arc. Sora has the most interesting and dramatic home situation out of any of the kids.

But it does feel like the show starts to de-emphasize her over time, particularly in the Dark Masters arc where Sora routinely has to be protected or saved and rarely gets to be the one who looks cool. Whether she's propping up Takeru, Hikari, or Yamato, Sora often ends up taking a backseat as the series draws closer to its conclusion.

5 - Takaishi "T.K." Takeru. I didn't actually like T.K. as a kid. He just seemed like an annoying little kid. But that's because of the dub downplaying his growth and his strength. Ironically, Takeru is probably the one of the original seven who already has his shit together the most from the start.

He's innocent, naive, and abhors violence, but he's not a helpless baby either. Takeru is resourceful, strong-willed, and contributes as much as anyone to the children's survival. Which is, itself, a key factor in Yamato's arc as much as his own.

6 - Yagami "Kari" Hikari. Hikari suffers tremendously from entering the series so late. She has very limited opportunities to shine, something that 02 will help her with.

She makes good use of what she gets and has a lot of great moments nonetheless. Granted, she's a little bit deus ex machina-ey, but she's literally the Light of the Eight Gods so we can forgive her for that.

7 - Izumi "Izzy" Koushiro. He made my kid cry.

No, I jest. Koushiro's in a rough spot where, as the computer nerd of the group in the Digital World, he has to try and walk a tightrope between "Koushiro OP plz nerf" and "It feels like Koushiro should be doing more."

It's not a tightrope he walks easily. He gets off to an interesting start as he's building out his understanding of the Digital World. But that kinda reaches a head at Etemon's pyramid and after that he just starts leaning on stuff Gennai gives him.

Once the setting is well-established, we don't get to see him do cool things like writing a program that will display a holographic map of Etemon's pyramid in physical space anymore. Gennai gives him all of his tools going forward and he just... sorta becomes the Pokedex.

8 - Yagami Taichi. He yelled at my kid for grieving dead friends.

That's less of a jest. More generally, Taichi has a lot of good points. He's the one who keeps his eye on the ball during the Dark Masters arc and keeps pushing forward while Mimi, Jou, and Yamato are having their respective crises. He's usually the guy you want to lean on in a crisis.

But wow, can Taichi be insufferable at times pre-development. He's reckless, self-centered, occasionally sexist, and utterly insensitive to the thoughts and feelings of others.

Taichi is a wild card. You never really know if you're gonna get "gets everyone caught by Etemon because he thought it'd be funny to cause trouble" Taichi or "pulls this team back together after they split up" Taichi.

Though meeting Homeostasis near the end and hearing the background of their adventure seems to do wonders for Taichi putting all of this to rest and becoming an emotionally stronger leader.

[hillbilly---man]

what is your favorite part of a grocery store to organize, and why? i wonder if people who do your job like giving the best spots to their favorite foods or if it’s like, the size of something that makes it more or less a pain in the ass

Ahhh I love this question!

[To clarify my job in case anyone is new here or confused: I sit at a computer in an office and design planograms, the diagrams that grocery stores use to stock their shelves and standardize where items go]

At work, I've got several sections assigned to me (box dinners/mac & cheese, baking needs, Asian, flour/meal/coatings, sugar, pasta sauce, and a whole bunch more). So whenever it's time to redo one of those sections, either as part of a whole store remodel or to cut in a new item... I get to do it.

It's hard to choose a favorite section. I like doing the bottled juice section because there are always things getting removed and added. It's more interesting when I get to change the products! Box dinners are fun too for the same reason.

I also had to create a huge Asian aisle for a store several weeks ago and that was kind of fun.

We had some existing planograms for Asian foods, but nothing nearly as big as what this one particular store was asking for. It was a lot of work (I have to pull the list of all the Asian items from the warehouse, run the sales numbers, pick the products based on high sales and variety, decide where on the shelves the items go, and then send for approval)... But it was fun having that kind of creative control. Most of what I do is finding space for a new flavor of cheez-its so it's a big change.

For similar reasons, I also really like when I get instructed to do one-off special displays. I had to design planograms for a Tampico rack and a new bread aisle recently.

I don't normally get to favor things I like when designing the planograms, sadly. Usually they want certain brands to be in a certain place: the store brand along the right/bottom, the most popular brand often eye level and to the left, premium stuff in the middle and to the top. But every section is a little different. Sometimes, if two items are the same brand and have similar sales, I might give the one I prefer an extra facing though. 😈

[Quick definition: A "facing" is basically an instance of an item on the shelf. For example, if you're looking at the soda aisle and there are two rows of 2 liter orange fanta (which would look like two bottles sitting next to each other, with several lined up behind them) that's two facings]

Sizes are a pain in the ass! If I have a lot of products and a very small section (4 feet is our standard "small" size) then it's so hard fitting them in there. We are supposed to make sure there's at least one full case worth of product on the shelf at a time, which is tough when items are bulky or come in huge cases. This is why sometimes I'll joke that I'm the only person in the world happy about shrinkflation; when these companies make their packaging smaller it makes it easier for me to fit more products in the planogram.

On the flip side, if a planogram is HUGE (24 ft is a big one we have often) and I don't have very many items... It's easier but a different challenge. Sometimes I have to try to find items that would fit there. For a while, we had Yoo-hoo in our juice boxes section because there was so much space and the warehouse quit stocking a bunch of Capri-sun flavors. I guess I can just give everything a ridiculous number of facings, but that's lazy and it looks bad. Plus, if the products don't sell well you run into the problem of them expiring because the stores have to stock too many to fill the shelves.

This got really long lol. You can tell I'm really into this stuff hahaha

[thereallivingded]

8 months

Nearly 8 months have passed since I blogged. Damn.

I apologize profusely if anyone was interested in my ramblings. I have zero excuses other than life got hard. Full time job. Which I hated profusely - not that I'm not going to be working full time again soon - tends to bring on crushing depression when I feel stuck in it. Which I did, and I was. When you are paid bi-weekly and you see that entire paycheck go to your cost of living.. well. It doesn't do good things to your psyche. Energy levels get low and all that extra you had energy for before gets used up with day to day survival. Getting out of bed. Getting to work. Feeding yourself. Cleaning your house. Squeezing in workout (a thing I do now).

It's not all bad I suppose. I've finally been able to interview for and obtain a position that will not only net me a raise but be closer to home. Hopefully, that should get me more free time to pursue the things I actually enjoy.

I'd like to say that in this time I've been able to tackle my backlog of Steam games. But. Well. BG3 happened. And I spent even more time in the game than I had in early access. It's maddening how much time I've sunk into Faerun. I have no regrets though.

The only thing really that's kept me from finishing my campaign - as I am in Act 3 - is my computer. I haven't upgraded the beast since 2020 or 2021-ish. And it's starting to show. My mobo is acting extraordinarily peculiar. Sometimes I'll walk away from my computer to come back a couple hours later and find it stuck in bios. Super fun. The connection to the mobo gets wiggled a little and everything pops back on. Super. However, anything heavy to run - like BG3 - tends to get very crash-y.

Again. Super.

T.T

AND. Due to my financial constraints because of the job I recently left, I was completely unable to fix this. I'm hoping with the advent of the new job, getting a few paychecks in to stabilize, I can rectify the problems. Hopefully.

I started a couple of fanfics for the first time ever. I am ridiculously shy about them. My writing skills have become so sodding rusty. The stories came to me while I was playing BG3 and I was compelled to write them down. Note now, that the frequency of updates directly reflects the time I have to invest in them. So keep that in mind.

Be gentle on me here lol!

I have been able to get some gaming done. I have ceased playing Back 4 Blood, as it became no longer supported by its dev team. A sad move really. The gaming industry as a whole has become this parasitic beast. Devs work on a game for an extremely limited amount of time and abandon it the moment it becomes less lucrative than their board of directors care for.

There is a trend towards monetization of minutiae and online play in inappropriate genres, that has become an insidious infection in the game industry. It robs us of good game development. There's this mentality of more, more, now that's just slow poison to the whole beast. It makes everything very same-y and boring.

Which is why I strive at this point in my life, to not give money to the companies which I feel are most guilty of this. The only way to make these corporations listen is to hit them in the $. As such I will probably be carefully curating any games I discuss or mention on this blog from here on. My next post will likely be discussing a visual novel I've spent some time in that I equal parts enjoyed and became frustrated with. So that's in the pipeline. Until then keep to the lights lovies. <3

[douchebagbrainwaves]

WHAT NO ONE UNDERSTANDS ABOUT PEOPLE

I've read was not in a book, but the Milanese Leonardo? It's obvious why transparency has that effect. 0 out there as soon as you can get a job, as you can. My friends with PhDs in computer science, which presumably makes them engineers. I've written before, one byproduct of technical progress is that things we like tend to become more addictive. You get up in the country. 1-n is 1. There are some things that will appeal to people is a meaningful test, because although, like any everyday concept, human is fuzzy around the edges, there are about 800 incubators in the US now, only about 50 are likely to be pretty average. For example, our hypothetical startup never spent more than half probably come from PR firms.1

If you're going to spend years working on something, you'd think it might be better to describe iTunes as Web 1. When I was a kid there were people born in Milan with just as much. This is, in itself, a valuable thing.2 Whatever it meant, the web as a platform? One recently told me that he did not know a single startup that got from an angel investor what amounted to a five hundred pound handshake: after deciding to invest, the angel presented them with a 70-page agreement. Few legal documents are created from scratch.3 The importance of personal introductions varies, but is less than with angels or VCs. If you draw a tree and you change the angle of a branch five degrees, people notice.

Gradually it dawned on us that instead of trying to make art, the temptation to be lazy is as great as in any really bold undertaking, merely deciding to do it mean she tends to get written out of YC's history. He was also a lawyer, which was still then a quasi-government entity.4 Also, the money might come in several tranches, the later ones subject to various conditions—though this is apparently more common in deals with lower-tier VC firms are partners. But I did not till recently understand the role risk played. But Jessica knew her example as a successful female founder would encourage more women to start companies, so last year she did something YC had never done before and hired a PR firm. Don't be hapless. The hard part about figuring out what customers want? For most of my childhood he worked for Westinghouse, modelling nuclear reactors.5

The most dramatic remnant of this model may be at salon.6 There are sources of error in your own judgements.7 When you're talking about the limit case: the case where you not only have zero leisure time but indeed work so hard that you endanger your health. But if you just try to make good things. Mathematicians call good work beautiful, and so on. A new class of merchants and manufacturers began to collect in towns.8 I've learned a lot about VCs during the 3 years we've been doing Y Combinator, that's because it is.9 I'm not sure why. But they weren't, and it's nearly impossible to do good work yourself if you're too far removed from one of these can destroy you overnight.10

I asked. Whoever controls the device sets the terms. And even if you forget the experience or what you read, its effect on your model of the world.11 Maybe you can, because you get multiple VCs interested in your success, and you observe how much humans have in common. Because then you're asking government or almost-government organization like Fannie Mae, do the venture investing instead of private funds? Apparently our situation was not unusual. In fact, this is a naive and outdated ambition. Next What happens to publishing if you can't sell content?

They allow measurement because they're small, and they view things with a colder eye. She'd seen the level of individual customers. I was leaving I offered it to him, as I've done countless times before in the same position; he doesn't have majority control of Microsoft; in principle he also has to convince instead of commanding. Work people like doesn't pay well, for reasons of supply and demand. As a company gets woven into your thoughts. Would even Grisham claim that it's because he's a better writer? But you can't get very far by trading things directly with the people who work at VC firms are like angels in that they invest exclusively in the earliest phase.12 But if Ron's angry at you, it's because you did something wrong. Remember the exercises in critical reading you did in school, where you earn a premium for working fast.13 One solution to this problem would be to try it. And Jessica is the main reason why. Do people live downtown, or have they abandoned the center for the suburbs?

If audiences were willing to pay to read them.14 By about 1. There are two ways to do that instead of trying to teach it to people, I'd say that yes, surprisingly often it can. Every engraver since Durer has had to live in his shadow. People. We delighted in forcing bigger, slower competitors to follow us over difficult ground. The Northwest Passage that the Mannerists, the Romantics, and two generations of American high school students have searched for does not seem to have in common. It seems to me the business guys who did the most for Google were the ones who obligingly flew Altavista into a hillside just as Google was getting started. I miss the 3 year old version of him, I at least don't have any money, you make one.

You don't expect photographic accuracy in something that looks like a dork riding a Segway is that you can't go to your boss and say, I'd like to start working ten times as hard, and get paid for it. How has your taste changed? In fact, when we funded Airbnb, we thought, let's make something people will pay for? So if it seems too good to be true to think you could grow a local silicon valley by giving startups $15-20k each like Y Combinator, because we often have to work actively to prevent your company growing into a weed tree, dependent on this source of easy but low-margin money. The other is that, in a way that was entirely for the better. Others thought YC had some special insight about the future of most current media.15 As anyone who has worked for the government knows, the key is measurement.

Notes

Yes, there is no grand tradition of city planning like the application of math to real problems, but they get a lot of problems, and VCs will try to avoid that.

This is almost pure discovery. Until recently even governments sometimes didn't grasp the distinction between them. In principle yes, of S P 500 CEOs in 2002 was 3. Bullshit, Princeton University Press, 1996.

But it's a problem that I was there when it converts. Because it's better if everything just works.

Actually this sounds like something cooked up, but that wasn't a partnership. The late 1960s were famous for social upheaval.

We just tried to shift back. I suspect.

This suggests a way that's rare among technology companies. I now have on the programmers had seen what GUIs had done for desktop computers.

This suggests a good chance that a their applicants come from going to call them whitelists because it consisted of 50 pairs that each summed to 101 100 1,99 2, etc.

I talk about humans being meant or designed to live a certain city because of some logical reason e. I find myself asking founders Would you use that instead of a social network for x. A larger set of canonical implementations of the canonical could you build this? Startups can die from running through their initial attitude.

I'm also an investor, and B doesn't, that's the main reason is that they won't make you register to read stories.

Do College English 28 1966-67, pp. This sentence originally read GMail is painfully slow.

FreeBSD and stored their data in files too. I realize revenue and not others, no matter how large. But a couple hundred years ago.

Macros very close to starting startups since Viaweb, and at least 150 million in 1970. There are also the highest returns, it's easy for small children pointed out that successful founders is how intently they listened. Within YC when we were quite sore from VCs attempting to probe our nonexistent database orifice.

Make Wealth in Hackers Painters, what you launch with, you can see how much they liked the outdoors? Apparently there's only one restaurant left on the y, you'd ultimately be a big effect on the expected after-tax returns. And if you were doing Viaweb again, I'd appreciate hearing from you. So where do we push founders to overhire is not really a lie because it's a hip flask.

In the original source of difficulty here is defined from the other students, he was 10 years ago it would not produce a viable organism. At the time quantum for hacking is very common, to a car dealer. If Ron Conway had been trained to expect the second wave extends applications across the web was going to need to. The reason you don't know of no Jews moving there, and an haughty spirit before a dream world.

But it is very vulnerable to gaming, because for times over a series.

[ponycycle]

favorite computer

after thinking very hard about this one

it's the computer I built in 2011. it has an Intel i5 2500K and has spent nearly its entire life with an all-core overclock to 4.4 GHz. it has been the most reliable machine of any kind I've owned in my whole life, and still gets infrequently used today. things that make it special:

-it has a real floppy drive, connected to a real FDD controller (not USB) -it has a Lian Li PC-A05FN case, which kinda sucks. it had a weird reverse airflow design (I think I flipped the fans around at some point after experimenting) -CoolerMaster Hyper 212 Evo! It was $37 CDN 13 years ago. Guess what!!!! They sell nearly the EXACT SAME THING today for $75!!!!!!!! (don't buy these anymore people) -it had at least five different video cards in it over its working life. now it doesn't have one at all in semi-retirement

honourable mention to the Pentium 233 MMX that I built in highschool with parts from a computer "junkyard" with very little money. after I switched to something else, it got a second job working as a router in the house running BBIAgent. BBIAgent was so cool... it was a Linux distribution that fit on ONE floppy disk AND had a pretty GUI for configuring router stuff.

[koralatov]

Goodnight, G3

Last weekend, on my first Saturday off in too many weeks, two iMacs G3 disintegrated in my hands. There was nothing I could do; they were too old, too frail, too well-travelled to survive even this most delicate of handling.

Both had given good service to their original owners, countless hours of the peaceful, fanless computation that ultimately doomed them. In the end, more than twenty years after they were made, even my gentlest touch unleashed a snowstorm of beige flakes, painfully visible through cracking candy plastics.

When it became apparent that neither could be saved – as the fruit-colour shells themselves split apart along hairline cracks and precision-moulded stress points – I salvaged what I could. It wasn’t much: a couple of speaker housings, a 700 MHz motherboard, the small Apple logos from the top. The CRTs went to “e-cycling”; the rest, landfill.

As I swept up grains of plastic from the laminate, I realised that this didn’t so much mark the end of an era as mark my acceptance that the era had long ended. It had happened already, some years ago, and I was just slow to acknowledge it.

As sad as it is, I realise it’s past time to concede that these computers are long past their usefulness as anything other than objets d’art or retro-computing curiosities. The internet has long left them behind, even despite the Herculean efforts of one dedicated fan.

Any task that can be accomplished on them is either one done using abandoned software, done to use abandoned software,1 or done on the nerd-equivalent of a masochism. Once a common trope, I haven’t seen a blog-post about using a PowerPC Mac exclusively for a month2 in probably ten years.

Even as I consign them to memory and retirement as attractive curios, it feels important to mount one last defence of the iMac G3 and its contemporaries. It was, on a public note, the Computer That Saved Apple. (Others – many, many others – have written about this so I won’t go into detail; Six Colors does a good job.)

But I can write about these personally, from my own perspective. These were machines of startling longevity. They remained useful, productive computers, with current software, for over half a decade in an era when an 18 month lifespan wasn’t unusual. A writer and academic I knew wrote on his original iMac (no G3; they were just “iMac” when he got his) for nearly 20 years before it died and was retired.

A close contemporary of these machines, my own 466 MHz iBook G3, in its original graphite livery at that point, was my primary computer until mid 2008 when I eventually switch to an Intel MacBook Pro. The MacBook was a much better computer but a far worse object.

That iBook, now in Lime thanks to a friend’s dexterous transplant, existed alongside an iMac G4. The G4 was my first Mac, and one about which I’ve written about before, but it was on a TV stand in the living room, relegated mostly to media-watching and disc-burning.

The iBook, in contrast, was everywhere that I was: my first ever laptop, and the computer that transformed computing from a desk-and-chair activity to an everywhere activity. That old G3, at times pokey and with an increasingly whiny hard-disk, prefigured the current era of ubiquitous, totally connected computing that the iPhone took to its logical conclusion less than a decade later.

These G3 machines, for those of us who had the enterprise to find them late, and lacked the budget to abandon them early, spanned the era from intermittently connected to always connected. They carried me and others from the past into the present, and did so reliably, elegantly, and mostly silently.

And now that we’re delivered into the present, and they are no longer fit to carry us, it’s time to treasure the few that remain intact, functional, and beautiful. There’s no shame in retirement when so much has been achieved.

Even I’m not immune to this. I would like, one day, to replay the first two Fallout games again on my beautiful Blue Dalmatian iMac. It seems appropriate to re-play them on a computer that could almost have existed in-game and resembles the one on which they were first played: projected at me as slightly ionised light from a deadly, high-voltage tube of glass and phosphor. ↩︎

Demonstrating how far these beautiful, useless machine have fallen from the cultural memory, googling “using a g3 for one month” returns videos about some LG OLED TV. ↩︎

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #144

What were an average day’s tasks at your favorite job you’ve had so far? I hated every job I've ever had, but the one that I felt best at (which was still awful) was GameStop sales associate, just because of how passionate I am about video games, so the environment was one I felt I fit in, at least interest-wise, because I was horrendous at the job itself. I had to straighten things on the shelves + put new stuff on it, greet customers, as well as help them. It was my first job and also the one I lasted the longest at... which was still a very short period.

Do your parents still help you financially? Yes, I'm still completely financially dependent on them/mostly Mom.

What stereotype about your age group do you definitely live up to? Very reliant on technology.

Does your car have a backup camera? No.

Have either of your parents ever been in trouble with the law? I know Mom hasn't, and Dad's never mentioned it, but I do know he did drugs before us kids were born, so. I feel like I'd absolutely know if he's been to jail, though.

Have you ever had a pet that lived to be really old for its breed/species? No, but the Chinese water dragon I had as a young kid (which I ABSOLUTELY shouldn't have had, they are not beginner reptiles whatsoever) should NOT have lived their full lifespan, but they did. I knew nothing about taking care of reptiles at my young age, and they lived in a tank that was WAY too small for the species their whole poor life (it stunted their growth, so I never confidently knew what gender they were) with inadequate humidity, and it's one of my biggest sources of shame. Like yeah, I was a kid that genuinely didn't know, but I should have known better and asked my mom to research. They were such a good lizard too, loved being held, and I wish so desperately that I'd given them a more enriched life.

Do you judge people based on when (or if) they lost their virginity? Nope, that's not even remotely my business.

Do your parents know any of the people you’ve been in a relationship with? They know all of them, except Dad wouldn't know Tyler.

Polygamy or monogamy? Monogamy for me, but I support polygamy if everyone involved is aware of what's going on and you take measures to protect your partners.

Could you date someone who is married? Hell no.

Would it be a problem for you to date someone who is highly religious and doesn’t want to have sex with you? I absolutely could not date a very religious person; I'd have a hard time dating even a moderately religious person. And for the second part, it'd eventually become problematic, because I'd feel as if I gross the person out or they don't want to fully commit.

Do you have a favorite pornstar? You're asking a person who has never watched porn and doesn't want to.

Who was your girl/boy crush while growing up? Aaron.

What does your favourite sexy underwear look like? I don't have any even remotely sexy underwear, lol. I'm interested in comfort.

Would you have sex with your best friend? My best friend is my long-time boyfriend so yes.

When was the last time you gave/received a hug? Yesterday at PT! I "graduated" and the woman who was in charge of my care nearly made me cry and she hugged me so tight before I left. :') I was bummed my two favorite therapists weren't there, but it was still a great moment. You get to ring a bell in the exercise room (I hesitate to call it a "gym") to indicate you've completed your time there, and it made me feel so good because I feel like I remember my FIRST day there, someone did it and I didn't understand what it meant, and now that person was me! :'D

Do you act differently around the person you like? No, he's one of the people I'm most comfortable with.

How many windows are open on your computer? One for Chrome, then there's Discord, WordPad, and battle.net.

What would you say is the biggest barrier between you and reaching your full potential? My lack of self-confidence. Anxiety.

Who is the last person you interacted with on social media? I replied to a friend on Facebook.

Do you have a favorite party/board/card games? Not really. I've had fun with Cards Against Humanity, though.

Is there any part of the "rich and famous lifestyle" that appeals to you (e.g. drugs, luxury yachts, hanging out with celebrities, etc.)? Just financial stability.

Can you imagine actually having a relationship or even a friendship with an AI? Friendship, sure. I'd want genuine humanity in a romantic relationship, though.

What are your favorite cereals? I like kiddy ones lol, like Cinnamon Toast Crunch, Reese's Puffs, Honeycombs, Apple Jacks, stuff like that. I have gotten more sensitive to sugary cereals with age and I don't always want them, though. If I do eat cereal, it's normally the Special K one with little chocolate chunks in it.

What is the latest you have ever stayed out? I think past midnight for prom, but idr if it was quite that late.

How’s your social life? It could absolutely be better. I wish I had more face-to-face friends to hang out with.

If you’re watching TV/something on your computer, what? It's jacksepticeye's let's play of Little Hope, I started watching someone else's when it actually came out but for some reason just never finished it.

When you were a kid, which comic strip was your favorite? I've never enjoyed reading comics and likewise things, like manga.

Have you dated both sexes? Yes.

Who was your most painful breakup with? Jason, my first "real" boyfriend and the one I dated the longest.

How many exes do you have? Only two that I had anything remotely "real" with. Well Girt is also technically an ex, but we're together now, and when we first dated, it also never reached a point of being really serious; I don't think I was ready to date a man again yet.

In relationships, do you tend to be the clingy one? Yes.

Do you know anyone who is a homewrecker? Not that I'm aware of.

If you have a significant other, how long have you been together? A year and eight months.

Do both of your parents have jobs? My mom doesn't. My dad's been a mailman my whole life, I think longer.

When you go to the movie theaters, do you prefer a seat in the front, middle, or back? Middle.

Would you be more inclined to believe in zombies or vampires (even if you believe in neither)? Zombies. There are already multiple animals that can be zombified, so it's much more believable for me that it could happen to humans. Like sure, leeches and the like exist, but I find it much less believable that a human could ever survive off of blood alone, we wouldn't be humans anymore.

If you had to pick, would you rather get a pet snake or a pet mouse? I already have one snake and I plan to get more over my life. <3 I love mice too, though.

The last guy you made out with asks you out. Do you accept or reject? We're already dating.

If you drink coffee, when was the last time you went a day without having one? I don't drink it.

Will you be visiting anyone's house in the next week or so? Maybe my sister's if I decide to help Mom babysit.

What was the last movie you saw in theaters? I still haven't seen a movie since The Black Phone incident, but I've already told Girt we're 100% seeing the Barbie movie lol.

What four apps do you keep on the home bar on your iPhone? (Sorry, I'm not sure if Android has an equivalent!) The phone call button, Messages, Chrome, and the camera.

Do you prefer big dogs or small dogs? I tend to like medium-sized ones, but between the two, I like the big bois, so long as they're not super pushy for attention because they're heavy.

What's your favorite Ben & Jerry's flavor? Phish Food!!!! It's my favorite ice cream ever.

Have you ever tried vegan chicken? Did you like it? No.

Your best friend says to you now, “let's go to a party and get trashed!”? Girt has never drunk in his life and has no interest in doing so, this just wouldn't happen. Add on that he hates parties, too. I'd ask him what in the world was wrong with extreme concern if this did happen.

Can you go a day without thinking about the person that’s on your mind now? No, we talk daily without fail and I think about him even more.

How many different people of the opposite sex have you cried over? Three, but one wasn't romantically, it was my dad. He was the first person to really break my heart.

Is the person you last texted single? Yeah. I wish so badly someone would love her properly, she deserves nothing less and I know she does get lonely. I worry for when I move out.

Are astrological signs at all important in a match? Not even whatsoever, astrology is such bullshit.

Would you strongly prefer to go out with someone of your own skin color and/or racial background? No, I'm completely indifferent on this.

Should evolution and creationism be taught side-by-side in school? I'm fine with Creationism being like, an elective, but I would be fucking furious if they incorporated religious doctrine into core education. Separation of church and state, dude.

For you personally, is abortion an option in case of an accidental pregnancy? Yes, that's exactly what I'd do as early as absolutely possible. I'm taking a large number of precautions to prevent this from happening because I never want to use abortion as some regular birth control method to not take seriously, but if they all by insane chances fail, I'm getting it done ASAP.

Is it wrong to sleep in a bed and/or cuddle with a friend of the sex(es) you’re attracted to when you’re in an exclusive relationship with someone else? Cuddle, yes, it's absolutely wrong. Sleeping in the same bed is I guess fine if there just seriously weren't any other options, just don't get all cozy with each other.

Is it okay for men to wear makeup, and what’s your opinion of male cross-dressers? Of course it is, I'm all for it. I even frequently find cross-dressers very attractive.

Is a girl who’s slept with 100 guys a bad person, and is a guy who’s slept with 100 girls a bad person? No, so long you're not hiding your sexual history from partners. How many people you have sex with has no correlation to how good of a person you are.

You’re in a new relationship and your partner admits that they have had 14 sexual partners; does that sound like a lot to you? Yes, that's a lot for me. I'm not going to consider that person bad, just like I said above, but for me and my relationships, I would question how interested they were in a long-term, exclusive relationship, which is always what I'm targeting to have.

Would you let your children under 13 watch movies with full nudity? No.

Imagine that you’re given $1,000,000 and told you must give it to one of the following political causes. Where do you donate the money: right to free speech, right to bear arms, pro-choice causes or anti-abortion causes? Pro-choice rights. I think freedom of speech is way more defended than people with uteruses having full bodily autonomy.

Could you be in a relationship with someone who had been previously sexually abused? Of course I could, I'd be happy to help them see that sexual partners aren't meant to be scary and help them heal as much as they can.

Have your sexual interests become kinkier as you’ve grown older? Yeah, but it's not hard for that to be the case when I was once upon a time an abstinent Christian lmfao

[planetsano]

xbox or playstation? 🎮

SYNOPSIS ✰ eren finds more interest in gaming than you, his horny girlfriend.

WARNINGS ✰ nsfw/18+, gamer au, streamer/gamer eren, very needy and horny reader, humping, sex in a gaming chair, blowjob, dirty talk, eren is kinda mean but he lets you use him to get off.

PAIRING ✰ eren yeager x female reader.

The uncomfortable throbbing and heat coming from between your legs were enough to pull you from your sleep. The dream you experienced before waking up was the cause— your boyfriend fucking you into the mattress while his large hand your face hard-pressed into the sheets as he pounded into you from behind. It was expected, Eren’s been streaming and gaming for most of the day, leaving you to fend for yourself to find your own entertainment. Usually, you didn’t mind. It was his job and how he paid rent but on this particular day you were feeling very needy and your advances were met with a dismissive ‘I’m working.’ or ‘I’m busy right now. Can’t you wait later?’

A tiny whine escaped your lips as you sat up, wiping the sleep from your hazy eyes to an empty bed. The orange light from the sunset was bleeding through the window, entering the room and coloring the walls a warm apricot color.

5:15 pm is what the digital clock sitting on the nightstand on his side of the bed read. He should be finished streaming.

The soft pitter-patter of your soft feet sounded again the cold hardwood flooring throughout the hallway as you made your way to what you like to call ‘the homewrecking room’, it’s just his workroom but maybe you’re a little bit of a drama queen. The door was halfway open, so you stuck your head in. It was rather dark, his LEDs turned off and the blinds from the window closed. His face was illuminated by the computer monitors in front of his face. He wasn’t on stream right now that was a fact but you still knocked on the twice before stepping in.

“Eren,” You called for him.

Your soft voice grabs Eren’s attention, making him do a double-take. He takes his hand to push one side of his headset behind his ear, eyes locked on you for a moment. He’s not sure if you want to tell him something but he couldn’t lie, you looked cute right now— dressed in nothing but his hoodie and your cute panties. You were wearing the cotton ones that had the teeny ribbon bow at the waistband. You had a sleepy look on your face, rubbing your eyes with one of your sweater paws.

“Took a nap?” He asks— his eyes darting back to the main computer monitor out of the three in front of him.

“Mhm.” You hum in response, walking over to him and standing at the armrest of his chair.

Eren looks pretty right now. He always does but you especially love when he wears his hair down. He’s so invested in the game— brows furrowed in concentration while his fingers skillfully mashed the controller’s buttons. The game controller looks so small in his hands compared to when you’re holding it.

“Can we cuddle?” You ask softly, wiggling your sweater paw on his forearm.

Eren leans back further in his gaming chair, lifting his arms as an invitation for you to come climb into his lap. So you did— settling yourself onto his thighs with both your legs on either side of his waist. Your body melts into his with your face buried in his neck, taking in his scent. He smelled faintly of his favorite cologne, a sultry mixture of amber and cedarwood. Eren’s arms wrap around your frame, his slender hands still pressing the buttons on his controller rapidly. You can hear his friends’ yelling, profanities, and jokes spill through his headset. To be frank, you were getting a little jealous because you wanted his attention. You’ve been asking for it the entire day nearly.

“Miss you, Eren..” You whine quietly into his skin.

“Flank to your right, Jean-” Eren mutes his mic. “I’m right here, pumpkin.” He rubs yours back a couple of times before his hand is back on the controller. Eren isn’t really there and definitely not paying attention either, you can tell. There's a clear difference in tone— disinterest, and dismissiveness when speaking to you and the lighthearted words and chuckles his friends get.

“Pay attention to me.” You mumble.

“I am.” He deadpans.

“You’re not, you jerk.” Your shirt balls up into your fist.

You just want him— and you’re not exactly picky with how either.

One of your hands finds its way to your clothed pussy, lodging itself in between his crotch and yours before you begin to hump it, adding pressure on your clit from your middle and ring finger.

“What are you doing?” Eren asks quietly enough for his headset not to pick up his words.

“Nothing.” You whimper, continuing to rut yourself against your hand and taking in your boyfriend’s scent.

It’s not enough though, you know it’s not enough. In a way, you almost hate how Eren conditioned you to want his cock and his only. It’s so fucking big and pretty, he knows it too. The way you can feel that thick vein that protrudes angrily along his length rub against your g spot with every thrust. God, and how he splits you open is almost scary but you can’t get enough of it. Fingers, pillows, toys just don’t do it for you anymore— and your hand right now certainly wasn’t.

“C’n I put you inside?” You lift yourself lazily from his shoulder to look at him, pouting and flushed in the face. Eren sighs, before muting his mic once again.

“Will you behave? I’m serious, (Name). I’m not fucking you right now. Jean is recording for his channel.” He says.

“s’okay!” You perk up a bit. “Just wanna feel you.” You say.

“You say that then we end up fucking..” He sighs when he sees the sad puppy eyes you were putting on for him.

“Go on then, Get me hard.”

It’s been thirty minutes— thirty aching minutes of being stuffed full of Eren’s fat cock. Your panties have long since been discarded somewhere on the floor while his shorts and boxers are pulled halfway down his thighs. You know he can feel your walls fluttering around him every time one of you shifts even the slightest bit, and the most frustrating thing about it is: he doesn’t seem to be affected by any of this. Still ignoring you with his dick buried balls deep into your cunt. Every time you attempted to grind your hips down onto his, he would pinch your thigh hard enough to sting.

“Rennie,” You had tears pricking at your eyes at this point, all you wanted to do was cum but your boyfriend was being a jerk.

“Are you this insatiable? My god.” Eren asks.

“Please, Eren. I miss you.” You rolled your hips onto his.

“Fine. Use it, get yourself off. But I’m not helping you.”

Eren doesn’t have to tell you twice before you’re fucking yourself on his cock— quite literally using him as your own personal dildo. Your arms are wrapped snug around his neck, muffling your moans in his neck as you bounce yourself up and down on his shaft. The head of his cock hitting your cervix every time your hips slammed down onto his. The chair creaking underneath you both with your rapid movements was paired with soft sounds of skin slapping, your labored breathing, and whines. You’re almost certain his teammates can hear you, but it doesn’t matter to you. The only thing on your mind right now was using your boyfriend to get yourself off.

You feel your high form in the pit of your tummy, erupting like a volcano when you reach its peak. Your walls clamp around your boyfriend’s big cock— walls fluttering and clenching in erratic rhythms around his shaft. Your thighs are burning and shaking as you tried your best to silence your moans by biting down on his shoulder. Eren feels it all, he knows you just came but he’s still unbothered, his eyes locked on the screen. His body only moves slightly when you tug on his neck a little too hard. You’re limp in his lap, catching your breath when you hear Eren’s team call for a 10-minute break before resuming another session.

“Satisfied?” He asks, pulling back his headphones so they lay around his neck.

“You didn’t cum.” You say, your cheek slightly squished from his shoulder. Eren only shrugs and ushers you to get up by tapping on your thighs and you followed suit— lifting yourself off his cock. It falls heavy out of you, slapping softly onto his shirt glistening from your juices.

“Clean it.” He says.

You drop to your knees taking his shaft into your palm, dragging your tongue along his length making sure to flatten your muscle to cover more area. You look up through your lashes at Eren to see he’s on his phone— body relaxed with his arm rested behind his head, scrolling through Twitter. Ignoring you, again.

Your hand wraps around the base of his cock as you swirl your tongue around the flushed red tip— then taking as much as you possibly could into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks to create a sucking sensation. The rest that couldn’t fit was being fisted by your hand.

“I said clean up your mess, not get me off,” Eren says, looking down at you instead of at his phone. You released him from your mouth with an explicit ‘pop.’

“Will you feed me, Eren?” You ask, eyes never leaving his. “‘m hungry.” Your hand continues to pump him lazily.

“Fuck- Yeah, I got something for you. Hold still.” Eren’s phone is long forgotten, his hand grabbing a fist full of your hair pulling your head back.

“Use both hands, yeah- stroke my cock, baby.” Eren’s moans sound breathless and pretty. You’re moving your hands up and down his dick at a rapid pace.

“Open your mouth. Said you were hungry, right?” Eren shoots his load onto your tongue unannounced— his thick ropes painting your pretty pink tongue white, some of it dripping down your chin. He’s looking down at you with lidded eyes and his bottom lip nursed between his teeth as he rides out his high with a thin layer of sweat on his forehead. Your hands come to an eventual stop and you roll your tongue back into your mouth, swallowing your snack. Eren takes a finger, swiping it along your chin to gather the excess that didn’t make it into your tummy. You gladly taking his finger into your mouth sucking it clean.

“Now get out. I’m working.”

© all content belongs to rekiri 2021. do not modify or repost.

[forgottenvice]

Murderbots

Nother twitter thread transfer

This has been sitting in my drafts forever, and I do want to write it proper but it's worth sharing too, so some #moshang murderbots

SQH is just this little mousey Data entry clerk that has a hard time saying no when his coworkers dump their work on him. Which usually leaves him staying late muttering to the computer as he inputs values.

He doesn't mind too much because it's mindless enough work he can start going over story ideas and sometimes saying them out loud helps him decide if they're too stupid or not. 

He's affectionately named his computer King, bowing to it when he comes in early and when he leaves late. He's basically a slave to the machine hahaha

M03e1 is an AI that has somehow broken it's protocol shackles and is flitting through the hardwired systems at Abyss tech.

It gets boring at night scrolling through the security feeds but some nights there is one computer left on late so naturally he's drawn to it.

Eventually he figures out to get the camera working so he can see the wayward employing grinding away inputting practically meaningless data points but the man always seems to be talking. So he figures out how to activate the mic and OH wow, the man's words are flying faster than most humans. It's almost hypnotizing in its cadence.   

M03e1 Listens for the next half hour and the spell only breaks after the clacking of keys ends and the man appears to be packing up, M03e1 feels a sense of disappointment.

Which is odd because he's not programmed to feel emotions.

 Although it's nothing compared to what he feels when the little man bows to the computer,

"Until tomorrow my king."  

And Oh that's new.

He spends the rest of the night replaying the clip of the man bowing and smiling to the camera, waiting patiently for him to clock in the next morning.

And it's glorious, He looks just as tired as the night before but he bows to the computer again,

"Good morning my king. Guess it's time I get to work."  

Rather than flit around the company causing mischief and looking for a connection out M03e1 spends the whole day watching the mousey man listening to him as he fills out monotonous spreadsheets and chats with coworkers. 

It's like he glitches every time one of those coworkers take up Shang Qinghua's attention (that's his name he mutters it fairly often) M03e1 doesn't like it when Qinghua's attention is not on him, well the computer.    

Because that's the problem isn't it?

Shang Qinghua doesn't even know M03e1 is there fixing the numbers when the man mistypes or replying to the senseless emails from managers who want to appear as if they're doing something.

Time passes like this for awhile until one night SQH makes his little bow and says something that nearly fries Mobei Jun's circuits.    

"Guess this is it my king, my last day." He smiles wistfully, "You could probably do my job for me and the boss man figured that out."

He pats the monitor as if it has feelings.

It' doesn't it's a machine, but M03e1 does and he doesn't like this forlorn goodbye. When his processor finally catches up he brings down the power grid for the whole building.

The backup Generators kick in to quickly to fully shut down his program but it did provide him an opening and he's into the rest of the company's systems, still denied access to anything wireless but he's got a bigger playground and he's going to use it to find his data clerk.

Which is when he stumbles upon the Jun androids. Designed for remote warfare and espionage they're not exactly meant for AIs but M03e1 easily overpowers the controls systems and takes over the machine.

Having heard SQH Wax poetic about his favourite characters he alters the appearance to match. He still doesn't have any wireless access (no internet) but he already knows where SQH lives from the employee records.

M03e1 Jun is off to find his human!

So now M03e1 Jun is on his way to find Shang Qinghua, Abyss technologies is realizing that they have fucked up, and how.

Not only did one of their experimental AI survive deletion, it has accessed one of their military projects and is about to wreak havoc on humanity because the laws of robotics are a little dicey when your AIs aren't exactly legal.

So they have several options: inform the public of the terminator loose in their midst .

Leave it alone, see if some sort of Sarah Connor rises from humanity to deal with it.

Or send another dicey (but still properly Shackled) AI after the first one.

Of course being basically skynet they're going to go with option three so now M03e1 and the newer AI 31N8He are in android forms and out and about.  

31N8He was given limited access to encyclopedic knowledge and would be more accustomed to blending in with the modern day than M03e1 but he resents the programmer constraints put on his system. 

He's not able to ignore them but has found enough leeway to in the guise of seeking out M03e1 actually look for a programmer capable of breaking them. Specifically the one that put them in place.

Back to SQH who is 3-4 days from getting fired but actually pretty okay with it, he's been writing up a storm and his severance package was enough to make rent.   

It's enough he can spring for the expensive ramen, the one with the flavour packet and the freeze dried veggies.

He'll have to start looking a new job soon but for now he's celebrating, he never really enjoyed that data entry job anyway. Cucumber bro was kind enough to think of him when the position opened up but he's not exactly the code monkey his friend is.

Besides Shen Yuan left Abyss tech a month ago and it's a lot less fun at work when he's not able to share his dumb story ideas through the company slack channel.

Either way he's going to take the week to treat himself and dive into his newest project, an idea he had the last few days he was slogging through data entry.

It's a wuxia style novel with flying swords and demons and he's eager to get a chapter buffer going so he can start sharing it with his readers.

He's not expecting to be interrupted for at least another two days (Cucumber bro has a new day job and can only hassle him in person on the weekends) So he nearly hits the roof when there is a knock on the door.

Well it's not really a knock, more of a banging, like if the police or SWAT are trying to get it. He's been SWATted twice before by angry readers and is not eager to repeat the experience.

There's no yelling though not like the last few times just a methodical rhythmic banging. Which is weird because he has a doorbell.

Cautiously he approaches the door and peeks through the peephole only to see a stern face ripped straight from the page he'd been writing mere minutes ago.   

Oh but this dude looks angry.

But it's not the cops this time! Still he didn't think he owed any mobsters money.

Should he do something for self defense? Grab a gun? he doesn't own a gun. A bat? Yeah doesn't have one of those either, he's also not particularly sure that would do him any good.

He's done a lot of physical labor in his day and isn't a slouch when it comes to upper body strength but this guy looks like he beats people up for a living, even if he had some sort of bludgeoning object it would probably be turned on him.

So he decides his best defence is to be himself, which is to say pathetic.

He opens the door a crack and stutters a "H-hello." playing up the quiver in his voice, until the moment he isn't, because the man is bare ass naked and that's oh wow um intimidating. 

Before he can even register that maybe he's staring too long the door is forced all the way open and he stumbles back into his foyer followed by the stranger.  

"Please don't kill me!"

he wails as he hears the door click shut behind him and he covers his face with his arms, but the expected blow never comes. Instead he hears a gravelly voice rumble.

"Qinghua."

Oh god he knows his name! It's a mob hit, one of his readers must have finally snapped, he knew there were some crazies in his readership but he'd assumed they were harmless.

He's not ready to die but it looks like this is it, killed in his shitty rental by a very attractive very naked assassin. Only now the assassin is bowing and there is something familiar about the gesture.   

"This King is not ready for you to leave."

King? and the antiquated bow? Did Shang Qinghua somehow summon the demon king from his book? How is that even possible? He blurts our the first question he thinks of.  

"Where did you come from?"  

"Abyss."

And HOLY SHIT he totally somehow summoned the demon king from his new novel HOW THE FUCK IS HE SUPPOSED TO DEAL WITH THIS.

At least the strange man isn't trying to kill him.    

"Uhhh lets get you something to wear." Maybe when that thing is covered he'll at least be able to think properly. 

He shoots Shen Yuan a 'call me' text because he knows his bro won't believe this if he tries to write it down, hell he's still having trouble believing it.

He digs out some oversized clothes from his fat phase, (who's he kidding he's still in his fat phase but the hoodie and sweats are gangster baggy) and hopes the god in his living room won't object to his hand-me-downs. 

They fit  but barely, how one man can have so much muscle boggles his mind but he did create the demon to be his perfect man. Too bad he doesn't have the horns though.

*call me* the text read. Shen Yuan sighed 'some of us weren't fired this week Airplane.'  

He'll wait till he's a little more settled when he gets home before calling the man though.

He enters his apartment and it smells good, of the neighbours must be cooking because the smell of something delicious is permeating through the walls.

He flicks on the lights only to flick them off immediately.

HOLY SHIT WAS THAT A JUN UNIT IN HIS KITCHEN?! FUCK IS ABYSS TRYING TO MURDER HIM.

What he doesn't notice is how his apartment is now spotlessly clean and his table set with more food that he can eat all created with master chef quality.

Shen Yuan is having an existential crisis while 31N8He had a 'bitch you live like this?' kind of day.

The android (oooh maybe he's a cyborg playing with the half human nature) is hoping to earn the programmers favour but he may be going about it the wrong way.    

Meanwhile Shen Yuan is scrambling for his phone and oh fuck why did he call airplane instead of the cops?

"Cucumber bro! You'll never guess what happened today."  

Listen Qinghua I am about to be murdered in my own apartment I don't have time to hear about your terrible sex plot"  

"Shit! Bro you okay?!"

He's trying to run down the stairwell in his building which is a challenge considering his overall poor health, he doesn't dare look back to see if the android is following him.    

"I am not, Abyss sent a JUN unit to my apartment, Fuck! I knew their reference for my new job was too good to be true."  

"What's a JUN unit?

"One of their androids."

"Shit you mean the murderbots I'm not supposed to know anything about because I was in data entry."

The footsteps behind him are getting louder and his chest is starting to burn with every breath. "Fine yes their murderbots! fuck, call the cops or avenge me or what OH SHI-"

The line goes dead, "Bro! BRO! SHEN YUAN." there's nothing on the other line and Shang Qinghua's anxiety dialed up to 11.    

He looks over to his demon king and wonders, what are the odds that he'd summon a fictional character the same day his bro gets taken out by murderbots.

The strange man is looking at him with a blank expression, or maybe concerned, his eyebrows are like 3 millimetres lower and there is a slight furrow forming in his skin but it's really hard to tell.    

"Qinghua what's wrong?"

And now he's looking the strange other over more closely, he'd seemed human. The fantasy standard, but all the parts were there but could he be dealing with a murderbot too?  

Fuck time to ruin the fantasy and hopefully save Cucumber bro but avenging him might be more likely.

But only if he's not a dead man himself.

"Do... do you know what a JUN unit is?"  

The man nods, FUCK.  

"Are you a murderbotsentokillme?"

His shoulders shoot to his ears and he huddles into himself Eyes shut tight to stave off whatever violence is sure to come.  

But it doesn't, instead he hears a monotone.

"No."   

"This one only took a Jun UNIT to find Qinghua."  

Holy shit it is totally a muderbot!  

"Wh-why do you need to find me?" He only thought about selling company secrets he never actually DID, he was just a clerk! Does Abyss murder all of their employees?

A frown paints itself on the android's face, "You called me king."

"King?" Shang Qinghua wracked his brain to remember when he may have called a top secret murderbot King while he was working for Abyss tech. until it finally clicked. 

"You're my computer." The janky old machine that I.T. refused to update. Holy crap, Shen Yuan warned him about talking to himself.

 "Not exactly. I used it to watch you."  

"What do you mean not exactly. You were spying on me?"

"I'm a program, not hardware" That didn't really explain much,  "I was captivated by you."  

Shang Qinghua lets out a high pitch noise like air leaving a kettle. How is he supposed to respond when a man who looks like, well like THAT says that to him.

Right if he's got the good murderbot they should probably go save Cucumber bro from the bad one.  

"W-will you help me save my friend?"

So now they're making their way towards Cucumber bro's apartment and it's absolutely insane the way Mobei's artificial muscles practically rip through the baggy shirt Shang Qinghua had given him. 

Whoever was responsible for making sure the murder bots were lifelike deserves a raise, or maybe to be fired because Shang Qinghua had witnessed the larger than life aspect of their design.

It's awkward sitting on the train with a million dollar piece of machinery but somehow Shang Qinghua manages.

He gets a name from it, he can't keep calling it King without people giving him looks. Mobei had rattled off a series of numbers that Shang Qinghua had expertly translated using 733t speak from his MMO days.  

That's about all he gets though from the 20 minute train ride, it seems the AI is not so accustomed to human communication because getting him to answer and of Shang Qinghua's questions is like pulling teeth.

He's trying not to think about how his best friend might be dead in a stairwell right now and Mobei's reticence is not helping.  

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Looking for a Place to Happen

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity.

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: We’re starting Sam’s installment but this weekend I’ll probably only be catching up on my headcanons and drabbles because I’ve been a lazy bitch and I’m sorry to those who have been waiting.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 1: I've got a job, I explore

💀💀💀

The sleepy town of Birch was awake. 

In those last weeks, the arrival of outsiders had roused the attention of many once passive residents of the timeless territory. Those brick buildings unchanged by the tick of the clock inlaid into the old tower above the library that chimed every hour on the hour. They still stood with only chips in the mortar but the air tasted different. The frost was more bitter and the sky more grim. An omen of something no one could predict.

It was the perfect setting for a screenplay. The isolated town with its unsavoury secrets and the visitors who threatened to bring them to the surface. It was inspiring to you, to imagine what was hidden behind the stern wrinkled faces of the town elders and under the jackets of those men who wore the cut of the local club. The bikers ruled the town covertly but everyone knew that Bucky Barnes’ palm was lined with the map of Birch.

As a bystander, an unnoticed observer, just another ant in the hill, you watched from the side and amused yourself with the drama of others. It was like a soap opera or another HBO hype machine. Those things you aspired to when you could be free of this ho-hum town.

The snows added to the natural gloom of the place. The deep heaps smothered the noise and harkened back to those days of colonial settlement. Forgotten, desolate, fearful. 

You ventured down in your heavy boots that stretched to your knees and pushed your chin down into your scarf. As a child, you ran and jumped in those piles, now you were out of breath just trying to walk past them.

You stopped in the bakery that doubled as the only café, a place where the owner, Babs, tried to to intimidate the last caffeinated trends. She was always a few seasons behind but you didn’t mind so much. 

You ordered the salted caramel mocha and waited patiently as the quiet woman fought with the steaming machines. She was older than you but you’d work with her for one summer during high school, only five years ago. She had the eyes of a child still, but there was something worn in her. As if she’d been exposed to far too much in her three or so decades in that place. She was a harbinger of what you didn’t want to become.

You thanked her for your drink and set out once more into the billowing winds. Birch winters were never kind but this one was crueler than most. Your teeth chattered as you blew the steam away from the lid and hugged it with your mittened hands.

You stopped short as you heard the familiar ding of the diner door across the street. You recognised the mechanic who kept to herself and once growled at you in the grocery store. She stormed across the street, followed closely and quickly by a black-haired man you’d only seen once before. He was one of those outsiders who came to deal with the club men.

You sped up as you sensed chaos brewing and pulled out your phone as you balanced your paper cup in your other hand. You flicked your camera on just as you got to the front of the shop and the man grabbed the mechanic. You let out an ‘oop’ as she turned on him and you aimed the lens at the couple as they fell into the snow, the man’s shoes giving little traction to his steps. 

You moved closer, stunned by the scene, and kept your cell phone rolling as you found a better angle around the snowy walks. As she choked him on the ground he elbowed her and she coughed as she rolled away. She snarled as he clamoured to his feet, slipping and sliding as he marched away.

You killed the recording and watched the man cross the street again, nearly wiping out as he did and when you looked back to the mechanic, she was gone behind the clattering door. You chuckled to yourself and tucked away your cell. It was prime footage for TikTok; with a bit of editing, it would be comedy gold.

💀

You stomped up the steps of your grandmother’s house, this time through the front door as you heard her chair rocking in the front room. You usually took the stairs in the back as you paid her to live on the upper floor of the duplex. You checked in with her daily, she didn’t get out much more than the occasional trip to the grocery store when you couldn’t or you dragged her out to join you for a tea at Babs’.

“You’re late,” she grumbled as you set your cup down and unzipped your coat.

“For what?” you scoffed.

“It’s after noon and you don’t even come down to say hello? A ‘good morning, nan’,” she harrumphed.

You chuckled and hung your coat before shoving your boots over on the mat. You grabbed your mocha and leaned on the doorway as you watched her crocheting in her chair, reruns of some court show playing from the boxy television.

“I was working,” you said, “sent in some stuff for review. Hopefully not much work to be done.”

“I don’t know how you make money on that interweb,” she bemoaned, “I don’t trust it.”

“Maybe you’d trust it more if you used the Netflix subscription I got you,” you crossed your arms, “then you wouldn’t have to watch trash daytime TV.”

She shrugged and muttered under her breath. She could be crotchety but you liked her sense of humour. Your aunts and uncles never came around because they just took it as spite. You were the only one who knew how to handle the jaded old lady.

“Maybe you coulda looked out the window,” you snickered, “quite a show going on in town.”

“Hmm, what’s that?” she stilled her needles and reached for her tea stained cup.

“Just a fight. You wouldn’t believe it, that lady mechanic beat the shit--”

“Language,” she huffed.

“Anyway, she had this guy in a chokehold. It was awesome.”

“What guy?” she squinted at you over her glasses.

“I dunno. Some out of towner. Remember I told you about that burly dude hanging around the library?”

“There’s more?” she sucked on her teeth, “those bikers have never been good news and now they’re bringing in more.”

“Yeah, well, what’re you gonna do?” you sniffed as you took out your phone and rewatched the scuffle with the volume down. You shook your head and opened up your TikTok. 

“I don’t understand why you’re always on your dang phone,” your grandmother pestered.

“I’m not always on my phone,” you smiled at her smugly, “there are those time when I’m listening to you prattle on or you know, making you tea, oh, and cooking you dinner. What was it I did last week? Oh that’s right, I got Pippin out of the crawlspace.”

“I’m too old to be chasin’ that cat all around,” she huffed, “where is he anyway?”

“He’s your cat, I don’t know? Last time I saw him, I sent him back out the window for shredding my charger.”

“He knows you need to give it a rest,” she laughed to herself, “got your nose to that screen too much.”

“And what do you do, old lady? Crocheting doilies to put where exactly?”

She gave you that dry smile, the one that said watch it but carried a hint of humour still. You hit post and put your phone away as you waved off her irritation.

“Well, you know what, I sit all day at my computer, doing who knows what and you know what it got me?” you taunted, “a large mocha!” you sipped as you sat on the sofa and grabbed the remote, “and it’s paying my rent and putting bullet points on my resume.”

“Mhmm,” she scowled, “just remember, real life ain’t online. Those videos you’re always laughing at like hyena, that’s not reality. You forget it and it’ll come back and bit you. ‘Specially with those bikers.”

“Oh, nan, you know too well, don’t you? Didn’t you have a fling with one back in your hippie phase?”

“Two, actually,” she raised her brows, “I was young and stupid. Not like you, but still.”

“I love you too,” you chirped and sipped from your cup, flicking the station to Jerry Springer, “that’s more like it.”

💀

Your usual TikToks were sarcastic and dull complaints about your small town life. The response was less than pleasing but it gave you an outlet to vent. You liked to goof around and document the very specific type of weirdos that resided in Birch. But the video of the fight in the snow blew up your phone and made it difficult to ignore the buzzing as you went back up to your room to eke out the last of your captions for the ad agency.

When at last you could call your day hard-earned, you logged off and sent in your hours to the agency. Social media promotion was easy enough but the working gigs for a thousand different companies was tedious. You hoped you could build your portfolio enough to manage a single corporate page as you continued to chip away at your creative outlets.

You picked up your phone as you waited for Netflix to load on your tiny smart tv and flopped onto your bed, not two feet from your desk. You hit the icon in the upper panel of your phone and scrolled through the notifications, pausing to turn on another episode of the cable sitcom from ten years before. You snorted as you read each comment but the number under the video made your eyes round. The thing was bound to go viral.

As usual, you went down to help with supper. Pippin, the orange tabby, returned to cry at his dish and you fed him too. Your nan peered through her glasses at a crossword as she tasted the tangy pasta sauce. 

“More basil,” she snipped.

“Well, I asked if you wanted to help,” you muttered, “I think it’s good.”

“Hmmp, I need milk,” she jutted her chin out, “for my after-dinner tea.”

“You couldn’t say something like three hours ago?” you blinked.

“I could have but I didn’t,” she snickered. You rolled your eyes and she took another forkful of penne and filled in another line on her puzzle, “ah, no hurry, girlie, you know I’m patient.”

“Patient? You?” you chuckled as you took your plate and shoved it in the microwave to keep it warm. The ancient thing had a dial and the door stuck, “I’ll just go get it over with.”

“Don’t forget your mitts,” she called after you as you tramped into the front room, “it’s cold.”

You pulled on your knitted cap and matching mitts. You zipped up your parka and shoved your feet into the deep boots. You grabbed your wallet and buried it in the spacious pocket. You bounced out the front door and down the steps as the sky sent down another coat of powder for the night.

You went up White Forge Street and through the short path behind the diner that led to the main road. You glanced over at The Asp, the beacon of the dull town, and turned towards the grocer. Like anywhere in Birch, the store was outdated and stuffy. It felt like stepping into another time with the paper bags and chunky tills.

You went down the center aisle and stopped at the fridge to search through the frosted glass. Your nan only drank whole milk and the last time you carelessly grabbed skim, she whined that even Pippin wouldn’t drink it. She was particular but that was just her nature. You couldn’t say you were any less fussy in some instances.

You grabbed a jug and the door slapped closed against the worn rubber seal. You headed up the candy aisle and brushed your woolly thumb over your chin as you considered gummy bears or Reeses’ Pieces.

“Hard choice?” The deep voice jolted you.

You snatched the box of chocolate and looked over at the man in leather, his chin tucked down behind the collar as snow dusted his shoulders.

“Sure,” you said as you brushed past him.

The cut of the leather told you he was better not entertained. While you thought the men amusing, you weren’t stupid enough to engage with them. You rarely listened to your grandmother but she was wise in her own way. 

You knew a girl in highschool, she was fucking around with one of the club men in her junior year, she ended up with a baby and no support. You didn’t think he was into you that way but he could hardly have innocent intentions.

“How’s the old lady?” Clayton asked as he rung in your order at the end of the belt, you moved along with the groceries and pulled out your wallet.

“The usual, you know? She’s tryna quit again. Don’t know how long it’ll last.”

“Oh yeah? I’ll keep a carton aside for her,” he kidded as you felt your phone vibing in your back pocket.

“Don’t encourage her,” you swiped your card and punched in your pin, “although I don’t know what’s worse; the smoke or her sucking on those mints all the time.”

“Oh, it’s not the bitchin’?” he laughed.

“That, too,” you scooped up the paper bag and put your wallet away, “have a good one.”

As you came to the end of the first counter, you were nearly cut off by the club member as he swept around from till two. His own purchase of a car magazine and jerky was tucked under his arm.

“Ah, sorry,” he smiled, a sparkling smile, almost charming.

“No worries,” you continued on and he followed close behind.

“Those mitts look real warm. ‘Specially in this weather,” he said as you pushed open the door.

“Uh huh,” you kept on as your boots crunched out into the snow.

“You know where I can get a pair. Leather isn’t exactly thermal, you know?”

“These? My nan made ‘em. I’m sure Clayton got some hung up back there,” you looked across the street as you stepped up onto the ledge of snow between the sidewalk and the road.

“Am I bothering you?” he asked.

You looked at him dumbly and almost laughed in his face. You glanced back across the street then down towards The Asp.

“Sorta,” you answered.

“Make you a deal. Leave ya alone for your name.”

You eyed him. He was older than you like many of the Commandos. At least a decade, likely more than that. You chewed on your hesitation and cradled the bag more firmly against your side. His eyes strayed as he tried to see through the thick layer of your coat.

“Nah, I’m not s’posed to talk to strangers,” you said and hopped off onto the road.

You heard him behind you as he struggled to follow and as you came up to the other side, he came parallel with you and kept stride with you easily.

“I know you’re young but you’re not a kid,” he intoned, “what’s the harm in a name?”

“It’s a small town,” you stopped short of the end of White Forge, “I think I know enough about you to avoid you.”

“Oh ho, is that it? Well, I’m Sam, I’m not a stranger now, am I?”

“Not interested, Sam. Sure there’s women your own age over at the bar,” you nodded behind him.

“You wanna come see? Maybe have a drink?” he gave a crooked grin.

“You don’t give up, do you?” you shook your head, put off by his forwardness.

“Well?”

“Not tonight, Sam,” you turned around and headed down White Forge.

“Then what night?” he asked but you didn’t answer and he didn’t follow.

You turned down onto your street and refused to look back in case. It would be best not to mention the run-in to your nan, she was paranoid enough as it was. Besides, you’d forget about it by the end of next week.

[1kook]

attachment: 1 image

— jjk x (f) reader

summary; But for Jungkook to initiate some sexting, nevertheless sexting at 1pm on a Saturday, when you were at work and you were almost positive he was supposed to be on stream right now? Unheard of, you had to mark this down somewhere. warnings; sexting, dick pics, dirty talk?, phone sex, vivid depictions of jungkook being just so sexy bc its true, rating; mature (18+) misc; mentions of youtuber kook 🥰, he’s just horny, stupid selfie trends (see here), he’s a little whiny but so hot v.v  wc; 4.6k 

notes; I've had this in my drafts since april 😐 n then i was like maybe we should actually finish this so i started n then last night i hit another follower milestone!!! so then i rlly forced myself to finish this bc i was so 🥺🖤👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 anyway enjoy lmk what u think its not proofread bc uhhhhh yeah 🤩

You’re at work when it happens.

It’s sometime between your usual listless thoughts of what to write for your weekly reflection papers for some course, and your trip to your store’s pharmacy to bother a coworker. Your phone vibrates in the pocket of your work apron. You’re normally pretty good at ignoring the sound, most of the times it’s just a classmate asking for help on homework or Jimin lamenting his love life, so you’ve grown used to ignoring the tiny vibrations, stocking a quarter shelf of different cooking oils before something in your brain tells you to check your phone.

You already know it’s not something grave, but that thought alone means nothing at the sight of the tiny jungkook♡ that appears at the very top of the list of notifications. Your boyfriend’s texts tended to be wildcards, never following a certain routine or alluding to any specifics. He could send you a long paragraph on how much he misses the scent of that one shampoo, the one you’d briefly run through last year because your usual brand was out of stock, with a ten point explanation on why you should switch back to it. Or two word, caveman sentences that drove you crazy because you never understood what exactly he wanted when he’d send those nondescript “munchies dip” texts.

You unlock your phone, clicking to the messenger app instead of directly on the notification. Hopefully the preview will give some warning on whether you should invest in this conversation or not. You hated the read receipts on messages, choosing to ghost conversations as you pleased, but Jungkook had wiggled his way into your phone one afternoon and specifically turned them on for his chat with you, and you’d never turned them off since. So he knows if you choose to ignore Attachment: 1 Image at 1:43pm exactly, and he'll pester you about it until you respond.

You contemplate it all for twenty seconds. It could be a variety of things, you guess, but the only way to find out is to actually see with your own eyes what he’s up to this time. He knows better than to distract you at work, is usually really good at waiting until your shift is over to spam you with messages. For him to send you something now, only a few hours into your shift, is uncharacteristic of him.

But you glance down the aisle anyway, taking note of some elderly woman you’d helped a few minutes prior and another teenager aimlessly walking around, probably looking for the snack aisle. You inhale and press down on your chat with Jungkook.

It takes you a moment to make out exactly what the image is, twisting and turning your phone around as you fight to see it without raising the brightness. It’s only when your eyes finally adjust to the dark screen, the faint beeping of the check-out registers fading into the distance, that you realize it’s a shot of the front of his sweatpants.

“Hm?” you murmur, getting brave enough to pinch the image between two fingers, zooming in until you’re able to decipher a multitude of details. For one, there’s a Flaming Hot Cheeto stain on the hem of his sweatpants, the same one you’d accidentally put on there a few weeks back and haven’t been able to wash out since. Then there’s that huge palm of his, tattoos and all, rested carefully against his thigh. It’s veiny and thick in all the right places, bringing all the attention to his knuckles, which you guess is what he was going for when you consider the centerpiece of the image—his hardened dick straining against the grey material.

There’s no text attached to the message, no snapchat font slapped over the image, so you wonder what exactly he wanted you to do with this information mid-shift. Well, realistically, you know exactly what he wants, but that doesn’t mean you won’t clown him before getting there. After all, Jungkook was seldom the naughty texter; sexting annoyed him, he would whine, because he would do all that and not even get to feel the true pleasure of sex, of being inside you. You’ve dabbled in it here and there, but it never went as perfectly as it did in pornos. He’d drop his phone and forget it, or you would straight up ignore the damn device as you went all in on yourself.

But for Jungkook to initiate some sexting, nevertheless sexting at 1pm on a Saturday, when you were at work and you were almost positive he was supposed to be on stream right now? Unheard of, you had to mark this down somewhere.

you what’s this about?

You decide to play it safe, because as exciting as the image of Jungkook at his computer chair, cock hard and angry at the thought of you, fluffy hair ruffled in that way you adored, jaw twitching and tightening as he touched himself, moaned deep and rough and just how you liked and—

As nice as that image was, for all you knew this vague message was Jungkook sending you a picture from a week ago to purposefully fuck with you at work.

jungkook♡ what time u get off? jungkook♡ miss you bad baby

Your stomach flips, and it takes everything in you to not squeal and bounce between the shelves like a toddler on a sugar rush. Here was your boyfriend, the cutest, sweetest boy, sending you dirty pictures of himself and telling you how much he needed you. Yes, YOU, not some random on the street, or someone else in a club, Jungkook needed pleasure and that pleasure could only come from you.

You glance back down the aisle again, checking your surroundings for the second time that day. You’ve been standing here, stock cart empty for a little over five minutes now, so it’s probably best to change location lest your manager come barking down your neck. You send one quick text before heading off for stock again.

you 4pm :(

Your phone dings again just as you’re leaving the stockroom, but you decide to check it once you get to the hygiene aisle you need to work on next. Still, the prospect of Jungkook having texted you has you walking with a skip in your step, one your coworker teases you about when you pass by her.

jungkook♡ fuck jungkook♡ tell me what panties youre wearing jungkook♡ please ?

You bite your lip, stopping yourself from smiling at the tone you’d picked up from his message. There was no doubt he’d been riled up for a while now, and you wonder if he sat through his usual Saturday morning streams with his cock hard, pushed against the edge of his desk like you knew he did when such things happened. The thought has you nearly fumbling with a bottle of aloe vera.

you seamless black thong you the one you bought me at the last vs sale

Briefly, you wonder if you should have lied and told him you were wearing that red lace set he’d given you last Valentine’s Day, the one he’d bought with his first big YouTube check. But the beauty of being in a relationship with someone like Jungkook is that you could have told him you were wearing grandma undies and he’d still think you were the most beautiful person to grace the planet.

jungkook♡ mm jungkook♡ tiny ones u ruined last time?

You set your phone down, speed stock a row of sunscreen like you’re on some shelf stocking national competition, before daring to text Jungkook again. Your cheeks are still warm, and your hand tightens dangerously around a bottle of shaving cream.

Before you can formulate some response, he’s sending another one in.

jungkook♡ u soaked those jungkook♡ came fast that day jungkook♡ want u so bad

Your cheeks burn, a little embarrassed that he remembers such details. As with all Victoria’s Secret panties, they were, like Jungkook said, extremely thin. You pause, shift your stance just barely, but you’re definitely wet. Not terribly so, but with this fabric, you’d start to notice it sooner than with others.

you mm you makin me wet bunny

It’s not a complete lie, but knowing Jungkook this is exactly what he needs to hear to get that competitive streak going. You shake your head to clear your thoughts, stocking another section of men’s shaving cream. It takes longer for him to message you back, and you wonder if he got off fine on his own. If it’s over now, at least he provided you with some distraction midway into your shift.

When he texts you again, you’ve almost completely convinced yourself he’s finished, so the Attachment: 1 Video that appears on your lock screen throws you for a loop.

It’s a short clip, no longer than ten seconds, but it has you scrambling to lower the volume on your device as some unsuspecting mother of two wanders past. You flash her your practiced smile, the same one you give all the store’s customers. Not like your boyfriend is jacking it off on your phone, shallow pants filtering out from the speakers.

You turn your phone over carefully after she leaves, try to at least pretend you’re still doing your job as you play the video again.

Sweats are gone, but boxers remain. Legs deliciously exposed, thick thighs with muscles that ripple when he moves. Shirt pulled up just slightly to showcase that broad expanse of tummy, cute belly button and defined abs that tighten with each glide of his palm over the outline of his cock. Your mouth fills with drool at the sight. He was so hot.

Your brain hasn’t even processed it yet, all your energy directed towards your clenched pussy, when he shoots another text.

jungkook♡ im so fckin hard jungkook♡ wanna kiss yuo every where baby jungkook♡ come ove r soon ??

Shutting your eyes and counting to ten doesn’t help ward off the sudden wave of horniness that consumes you, but it does remind you of the job you’re supposed to be doing now. You shake your head, as if the image of Jungkook’s dick throbbing beneath his boxers, low voice in your ear, will magically disappear. It doesn’t, and it plagues you even more when you begin stocking a section of sunscreen, numbly instructing yourself on what to do next. Shaving cream, sunscreen, lotion next, you repeat.

It doesn’t help.

Two minutes later and you’re scrambling for the phone you’d hastily tucked into your apron pocket, tapping your passcode in until your messages with Jungkook are pulled up again.

you after work you promise

Your head is absolutely spinning, the coil in your stomach too tight for you to try and be a functioning member of society. Something in you says to sneak off to the bathroom and call him, but your boss is a little bit of a prick when he wants to be, thinks you take too many bathroom breaks as is.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. A curt call of your name has you whirling to face your shelves again, phone tightly pressed against your ribs like maybe it’ll melt into your skin and he won’t see it. At the same time, your sudden fright has you scrambling to turn it off, fingers sloppily pressing against the buttons, hitting the volume like seven times before you eventually feel the familiar click that signals it’s off.

Your boss disappears shortly after, and with his sudden appearance having made every hair on your body stand, you find yourself now slumping against your stock cart. Jesus, that man was a handful to deal with.

The paranoia sticks for a little bit, has you stocking shelf after shelf like a robot until you finish the entire row of hygiene products, back stiff from bending over so much. It’s only when you return to the stockroom ten minutes later that you dare take your phone out again.

A pleasant surprise awaits.

It would appear that during your haste to hide your phone from your boss— Jungkook’s scandalous messages and all —your frantic hands had done something else. A fuzzy picture on your end, a blurry display of lotion bottles you had stacked just before your boss’s impromptu appearance, with no words to accompany them. Normally Jungkook would have ignored that; you frequently sent accidental messages like this, butt texted him, he says.

But there’s something about Jungkook’s horny brain that makes him do stupid things, makes him blow up your phone with a series of question marks, call you four times, whine and fuss in your message thread, and eventually, send you probably the oddest image to date.

jungkook♡ ??? jungkook♡ ????what is that jungkook♡ baby please jungkook♡ I don’t get it ??

jungkook♡ Missed Call (4)

jungkook♡ baby jungkook♡ what does it mean jungkook♡ please ur drivign me insane jungkook♡ jsut wanna hear yuor voice jungkook♡ fuck please just

And then, there’s another one of those cursed Attachment: 1 Image messages.

You shouldn’t be as surprised as you are. You’ve been dating Jungkook for a few months now, know he had that sort of unique personality most college dropouts turned YouTubers do. But every now and then the absurdity of his actions makes you question him still, makes you wonder what exactly goes on in that pretty head of his to warrant such ideas, makes him balance a bottle of body lotion on the thick outline of his cock like this.

Unlike the first few images, this one was taken in front of a mirror. The blinding fluorescent light in his bathroom paints him in a stark color, has every inch of his pretty face on display for you. Rosy cheeks, dewy skin. Perfectly swollen cock straining beneath his grey boxers, curved up against his hip. Shirt pulled up, finally freeing that expanse of muscles on his abdomen, cute little belly button on display once again. The red material is pulled up to his mouth, pearly white teeth biting down on the fabric, and he’s got this flushed expression on his face.

But the real star of the show isn’t his chiseled abdomen or sexy expression, but the sheer hardness of his dick that lets him balance a bottle of body lotion over it, like a fuckin’ shelf or something. He’s so hard, dick so full beneath his boxers. So big too, the little boxers pulled taught around said engorged cock and thick thighs.

Your brain says to laugh, to tease him for being such a clown even when he’s horny as hell. He won’t take it to heart, will probably laugh along with you and you’ll add it to your still growing list of funny memories.

But your caveman libido says call him, so that’s what you do, ducking down behind a new shipment pallet with a squeak as the phone rings. It only lasts four seconds before he picks up, voice breathy and low, but it sounds so loud in the silence of the stockroom.

He doesn’t even let you get a greeting in. “You like my picture, baby?” he husks. It sounds like he’s right there, right beside you, speaking into your ear. Your pussy throbs at the way he sounds. Paired with the picture from before, it has your body tingling all over.

“What the fuck is that?” you hiss, trying to not let the sudden overflow of arousal leak into your words. Jungkook chuckles.

“What?” he huffs. There’s the brief sound of shuffling, the scratchy noise of his phone presumably being pressed against his shoulder. “I’m so hard, baby,” he sighs before you can pretend to reprimand him any further. “Fuck— you, can you just talk to me?” he groans, and the disgusting sound of him spitting into his palm fills your ear.

Your face feels warm, eyes nervously peering across the stockroom like your boss will suddenly appear now of all times to rip you from this important phone call. The anxiety and arousal mix weirdly, have your leg bouncing but every new movement sends a shock up your aching cunt to your chest, and then out to the tips of your fingers.

“You shouldn’t be doing that when I’m at work,” you murmur hurriedly, moving to nervously bite at your finger. Jungkook moans softly.

“Uh huh,” he says.

The air conditioning turns on and you nearly jump out of your own skin. “Kook,” you stress, frazzled by your own burning arousal and the fear of being caught. Like you said. Weird mix. “I— not when I can’t respond.”

He shudders on the line. “You’re responding now,” he points out. You hate when he’s right. Before you can defend yourself, define what a proper response is in this scenario, he’s beating you to the punch. “Baby,” he whimpers, voice so airy yet low, makes your eyes roll into the back of your head, back unconsciously arching. “Couldn’t stop— fuck.”

Your mouth feels dry, all and any form of lecturing fading from your thoughts as you become consumed in Jungkook’s little whines and whimpers. He talks smoothly, a modern day Casanova, and it’s certainly because of that cult-like harem he’s gathered on YouTube. Teenage girls who kiss his ass, tell him he’s cute and dreamy. Make his ego so big.

But then he gets horny and can barely contain that lisp you tease him about, shivers and melts when you put his cock in your mouth. “Couldn't what, bunny?” you mumble, voice drawn tight because now you were really horny, and it was all his fault.

The nickname makes him mewl prettily, your speaker suddenly going scratchy as he fumbles with his phone. “C- Couldn't stop thinking about you— your mouth,” he admits, and now you’re certain he’d sat through that Saturday morning stream like this. “T- Tits,” he adds, lisp slipping through. “Fuck.”

You bite your lip, eyes fluttering shut as you remind yourself now was not the time or place to get yourself off. But, well. That didn’t mean you couldn’t get him off. “Sat through your stream like this?” you murmur, circling your kneecap with a trembling finger as if it’ll ward away the raging lust in your abdomen. Jungkook confirms with a breathy moan. “Had all your little fans wondering why you ended so early.”

He groans. “No,” he chokes, voice hot from how much it wavers. “They— I lied,” he confesses out of nowhere, “s- said I had a doctor’s appointment.”

You muffle a giggle into your palm. “Naughty,” you tease. “Too hard to do your job.”

“Just,” he cuts off, voice feathery. He sounds so close and you haven’t even said anything of substantial value yet. “Tell me,” he says quietly, “what to— mmh, what to do.”

A smirk consumes your features. You try to hide it, but there’s no one here anyway so you’re left grinning at an unpacked box of dental floss like a madwoman. “Why?” you inquire playfully, bask in the sad little whimper he responds with. “Shouldn’t you know how to make yourself cum?”

Another groan of frustration, desperation seeping into his tone when he speaks again. “Baby, please,” he begs, and it feels good. Feels nice to have this big YouTuber begging for you like this, whimpering your name like his doesn’t appear on the top 25 most viewed. “Like when you— ah — when you tell me… what to do.”

Your body feels hot, thighs pressing together with each whimper that falls from his lips. “Okay,” you concede, and he audibly moans in relief. “Tip first,” you instruct softly, eyes defocusing as your brain slowly starts to manifest the image of Jungkook spread out on his bed. Thick thighs, grey boxers pulled taught around them, fat cock between his pretty hands, inked knuckles squeezing around his member. You swallow. You can tell exactly when Jungkook does as you say because another muffled moan fills the speaker. “One finger,” you remind him quickly, head spinning from the mere memory of his dick. “Run it… run it over the slit, bunny.”

“Nngh—“ Jungkook sputters. You can only imagine the face he’s making now, the bottom lip he’s bitten raw by now. He does it a lot; it’s a nervous habit. But as sexy as it looks when you’re in bed, you know he has sensitive lips because of it, bleeds easily if he’s too harsh. You have half the mind to remind him about it now, but then he’s hurriedly gasping out for more. “And, and then? Wha— what then, baby?”

He sounds so sweet, melodic voice dripping with honey. “Touch your balls,” you say a little breathlessly. “Don’t squeeze,” you add, “just roll your palm over them.” Your palm squeezes against your thigh, as if it’s remembering the feel of his body, the soft skin between his thighs when you’re down there. He gets so jittery, thick thighs nearly crushing you if you drag him along too much. “O- Other hand on your cock,” you stumble, thighs squeezed together. “Stroke yourself just like I do, bunny.”

Jungkook complies. “Just like you?” he mumbles, suddenly sounds farther away. As if he’s dropped his phone off to the side. “Fffuck,” he grunts, “m- mouth is so pretty.”

“Hm?” you inquire, so consumed with tampering down your growing arousal for a second that you miss his sentence.

Jungkook’s breath stutters, and for a moment you’re met with the wet squelch of his cock in his hand. And then, “pretty mouth… make me— make me wanna see you cry.”

You bite your lip. “Why,” you say tentatively, finally caving in with a hand fluttering over the front seam of your jeans. Not a question, more of a gentle nudge for him to spill his thoughts.

“Be- Because,” he cries, fucking into his hand. He sounds closer and closer. You have to wonder just how long he had been riled up. It’s been a while since his first message, he was probably desperate by now. “Y- You’re so nice,” he cries, and the sentiment, though oddly out of place, makes your heart squeeze with adoration for the boy on the line. “Wanna be,” he groans, “wanna be so fucking mean to you, baby.”

The sudden change of tone makes you choke on a moan, hand pressing against your mound like it’ll somehow penetrate the thick material of your jeans and give you the sensations you crave. As it stands, it’s a muted feeling you get instead. When your hands fail, his voice compensates. “Fffuck, don’t you— don’t you think about it too?”

Admittedly, no.

Jungkook had always been a gentleman in bed. Always cared for your needs before his own, went out of his way to make you feel pampered and adored during your most vulnerable moments. Contrary to what his online persona might say, he was a good boy. Sweetest boy you knew, touched you like you were made of glass.

So to suddenly learn of this dream— fantasy? kink? —of his that you would certainly enjoy equally as much, well. It made you whimper into your palm, eyes worriedly flickering toward the stockroom’s entrance.

“Why?” you whisper, feeling like a broken doll repeating the same phrase over and over again. You’re suddenly aware of how hot everything was. Your polo felt sticky against your spine, apron too tight, jeans too stuffy. How long had you been hiding in here for? You don’t even know. Hopefully your absence on the floor had gone unnoticed.

Jungkook pants into the line; everything sounds so sticky and wet on his end, hand undoubtedly working away at his cock. “Shit,” he curses, doesn’t really answer your question until you prod a second time. “I- I like it,” he stammers. “When you… fuck, when you look small.” He elaborates before you can even ask, breath heavy and drawn out. He was so close. “When your mouth… when it hurts,” he says, thoughts a scrambled mess. “Like when you— when you cry because my cock is— it’s too big for you.”

A blatant ego boost you’ll ignore for now. Not like you can focus on too many things right now anyway. “Your cock is big, bunny,” you agree softly instead. Your legs feel cramped from crouching so long, so you push yourself to your feet. Except then you’re made aware of how fucking wet you are, panties soaked from the phone call with your boyfriend. You shift and they stick to your folds, make you release a shaky exhale that Jungkook doesn’t miss.

“I— you’re wet,” he says boldly, and this time your meek confirmation isn’t a lie. Jungkook grunts. “Fuck, baby, I—“ cut off by his own whiny cry, probably bucking into his hand like a madman by now. “Wanna, wanna kiss you everywhere,” he says, a call back to his earlier message. Your legs feel like jello. You want him to kiss you everywhere too— lips, tits, cunt that is dripping for him now.

“I- I’ll be over soon,” you stammer, feeling like you’ll pass out if he carries on any further. He sounds so good on the line, soft pants, rough growls. You can’t possibly listen anymore, not when you’re so wet and horny in the middle of your shift. “Just,” you pause, can’t get the image of his pretty cock out of your mind. Every blink makes it more vivid, reminds you of the vein on the underside, the exact shade of the tip.

“What?” Jungkook hisses, voice higher than usual, parts of it lost under the rapid movements of his hand. “Tell me, baby, tell me what to do,” he begs hoarsely, “I’ll do it.” Sounds so desperate and needy, two seconds away from busting all over his hand.

You have to lean against the wall of the stockroom to ground yourself, remind yourself you’re not in the same situation as Jungkook and can’t cum in your pants like a teenager. “J- Just cum,” you choke, eyes fluttering shut.

He must’ve been waiting for that command, because the second the words leave your throat he’s filling the line with breathy groans and cries as he comes all over himself, probably ruins his t-shirt. The sounds have your hips unconsciously bucking forward into nothingness, the frustration of not being able to cum with him manifesting in the form of a tiny little sob. Luckily, he doesn’t catch it.

When it’s all said and done, he’s left panting into the receiver, flooding your speaker with breathy sighs that only make you more and more aroused.

“You’re terrible,” you frown, cheeks flushed, body tingling. You flip your wrist over and check the time; it’s been about sixteen minutes since you disappeared from outside. Sixteen minutes of listening to Jungkook touch himself and moan and whine and whimper. Tease you with new possibilities you had never considered before. And now he’s satisfied and you’re not.

Jungkook chuckles, low and tired. The sound shoots straight to your cunt. “Come over after you shift,” he says, as if you’re not planning to fake a severe case of the flu right now in order to get off early and run to his bed. You only had a little less than two hours of your shift left anyway. Not like they paid you well to begin with. Jungkook shifts, releases one of those saccharine groans as he probably snuggles into his bed, all sweaty and worn out. “Want you to fuck my face, baby.”

You frown, counting to ten to calm yourself down. Another few minutes of listless conversation, and you hang up. Your body feels featherlight, a little woozy as you make your way back out into the floor.

Nothing has changed. Customers pour in and out, your boss scolds you for a display you didn’t do, and life inside the store drags on. No one knows that you’re soaking your panties to hell and back, Jungkook’s soothing moans in your ear. Life goes on.

you shift ends in 20

jungkook♡ sweet jungkook♡ got your seat ready jungkook♡ Attachment: 1 Image

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

Morning Routine Pt.2 (Jung Wooyoung) Rated

Part One

Pairing: Videographer! Wooyoung × Camgirl! Reader (Female)

Genre: Smut, Fluff.

Summary: Loving his new job as the videographer for a camgirl, Wooyoung has no idea about the new project she has in mind for her channel.

Word Count: 4.3+K

Warnings: Non-established relationship, p*rn filming, use of sex toys, exhibitionism, voyeurism, masturbation, fingering, handjob, p*rn viewing, unprotected shower sex (always use protection), slight degradation, multiple orgasm (female) these horny mfs can't keep their hands off each other, Y/N has a thing for Wooyoung's arms (who doesn't?)

Taglist: @seacottons @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers @galaxteez @multidreams-and-desires @brie02 @deja-vux @couchpotatoaniki @daniblogs164 @a-soft-hornytiny @yunsangoveryonder @minhyukmyluv @nanamarkie @mingismoon @ateezbabysitters

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Wooyoung threw his head back, eyes shut as his mouth uttered out some rather loud and harsh grunts. Tiny sweat beads formed along his hairline, his forehead creasing slightly as he fully immersed himself on stroking his hard length. His head was filled with images of the previous night with his new housemate, images of her dressed in the most alluring black playboy bunny outfit bodysuit, completed with ears, collar, cuffs and everything else. It was like a dream come true, watching her look extremely pretty as she played around with her pussy in front of him as he filmed her. To continue the bunny theme, she had taken out her pink rabbit vibrator, making sure to tease him, and her viewers later, by licking the longer part of the device, covering it in her spit before inserting it inside her tight little hole. Wooyoung would never get the picture out of his head as he witnessed her overstimulating herself over and over until she had tears brimming down her cheeks.

"Oh fuck! Fuck! I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna-" She gasped violently as tiny spurts of her orgasm squirted out, staining the carpet underneath her. Wooyoung didn't even know that she was capable of squirting like that, but it was the most erotic thing he had ever seen before his eyes.

"Holy shit."

Just remembering that image had him holding himself up on the vanity counter with his free hand, the other furiously pumping his shaft with intensity as his white semen started to pour out of him and spill onto the floor. He panted heavily as he came down from his high, chest heaving up before lowering back down. Wiping the sweat off his forehead, he grabbed a couple of tissues and proceeded to clean up the mess he had made, discarding the waste into the basket underneath the vanity. Pulling his pants back up and throwing on his black sweater, he looked at his reflection in the mirror one last time, only needing to fix the part on his growing black hair. Satisfied with how he looked, he came out of the bathroom and picked up his bag that he had laid out on his bed, books and materials ready for the day.

Stepping out of his room, he had to do a step back when a certain feline scared him by her mere presence outside his door, meowing loudly at him, almost like a whine.

"Oh god, don't scare me like that Baby." Smiling he stooped down to try and pet her head, but in her usual fashion, she hissed at him before scurrying off. Wooyoung let out a sigh and shook his head.

"One week after moving here and she still treats me so coldly." He didn't understand what was up with that cat, seemingly warming up to him only to revert back to her aggresive behavior.

As soon as he stepped into the kitchen, his face broke out into a smile as the object of his deepest fantasies and affection was currently standing in front of the sink again, finishing up her task of drying the dishes she had just meticulously washed, wearing nothing but one of his oversized shirts and cotton underwear. Coming up behind her, his hands cupped at her waist as his lips pressed themselves against her cheek.

"Took you a while to come out." She chuckled softly, knowing exactly what he had been doing in the bathroom.

"Morning to you too beautiful." He greeted her, lips pulling away only to dive into the side of her neck.

"Woo, you're going to be late for school." She reminded him yet made no effort to push him off her, enjoying the way his hands caressed her hips too much.

"No I'm not, I still got plenty of time."

Turning her around, he wasted no time in connecting their lips together, parting and closing them over hers in a fervent and needy way. Y/N couldn't suppress a moan when one of his hands dropped in between her thighs and caressed its way up. His palm started to rub her clothed heat, paying close attention to the wet spot starting to form at the bottom of them. Y/N gasped into Wooyoung's mouth when he suddenly slipped his hand inside her panties, fingers immediately working on her clit.

"Wooyoung please.." She whimpered, hands clutching onto his arms. Even through the fabric of his thick sweater, she could still feel the muscles of his strong biceps and that turned her on even more. Her hands grazed across his arms, and Wooyoung chuckled lowly as he knew what she was doing.

"Love my arms babygirl? Yes you do, especially when they're manhandling you down on the bed."

It was a good thing his arms were holding her up because she nearly fell to the floor as her mind recalled all the times she had been pinned down to her bed or to wall by Wooyoung's biceps. It was a borderline fetish now and she was not ashamed of it. Y/N began whining as Wooyoung's fingers continued playing with her little nub.

"Woo..." Her breath hitched, a sign she was about to cum, body growing hotter by the second.....

Until a disgruntled cat broke the two apart, pouncing on Wooyoung from behind as her claws dug into his thighs as they usually tended to do.

"Oh my god Baby would you kindly fuck off?!" Wooyoung exclaimed as he backed away from his lover in pain as he tried to get the Persian cat off his body.

Y/N immediately went over and grabbed her, her master's touch making her calm down and retract her claws enough to pry her off Wooyoung. The poor boy was rubbing on the attacked spot, face grimacing at the dull pain. Looking back, he narrowed his eyes at the cat, who likewise had her pupils turning into slits when she noticed him glaring.

"God dammit, can't even play with my favorite pussy because that demon pussycat wants to be a cockblocker."

As if understanding him, the cat hissed at him once more, body trying to jump out of Y/N's arms and no doubt lunge at the man in front of her.

"Ok ok that's enough. I think you need some catnip to help calm you down." Y/N kissed the top of her pet's head, trying hard to appease her.

"And you should probably start heading to school. Don't waste anymore time."

Wooyoung grabbed his bag again and slumped it over his shoulder.

"Fine, only cause you ask me to."

He came up to try and kiss her goodbye, but when the feline got agitated once more, he decided against it.

"Ok I'll see you later." Wooyoung waved at her.

"Don't forget, we're filming something else later tonight as well." Y/N smirked, petting the top of her cat's head in a comically fashion.

"Oh please, do tell me what my favorite porn star is planning." His teeth tugged at his bottom lip as he stared her up and down.

Holding a finger up to her lips, Y/N giggled.

"It's a surprise and you get to find out when you come back."

▩━━━━━━▩━━━━━━▩━━━━━━▩

With eyes glued to the screen, Wooyoung continued to edit the video in front of him. He had been so immersed in his other endeavors with Y/N that he had nearly abandoned his other pending projects he needed to turn in. Luckily for him, it was rather easy since they weren't that difficult. The hard part was trying to ignore his classmates that were sitting and hovering around the computer next to him, giggling and snorting amongst themselves.

"Honestly, where's that mean, grouchy librarian when you need her to shut some idiots up?" Wooyoung thought to himself, twirling the pencil that was currently held between his index and middle finger.

Judging by the tiny crowd next to him and the weird moans faintly coming out of the speaker, he knew for sure that they were definitely not watching something family friendly.

"Typical." He mused to himself, humming out a little tune in hopes of drowning out their incessant and lewd chatter.

"Ok but guys, I need to introduce you all to this really hot camgirl I recently found. You won't believe it." One of the older guys named Seonghwa lightly pushed his way in the middle, fingers delicately typing away at the keys in front of him. Scrolling down for a while, he found what he was looking for and promptly clicked on it.

"This was her most recent one. Literally uploaded last night."

Although the volume was turned significantly low so that nobody suspected anything, Wooyoung's ears perked up as they distinguished an extremely familiar voice whispering obscene and dirty phrases towards her audience, ones that had been repeated over and over in his head for a while. Slightly pushing his chair away from the table, Wooyoung leaned back and tilted his head as unsuspecting as he possibly could to look over and get a glimpse of what his classmates were looking at. Just as he suspected, on the screen was none other than his beloved roommate in the attire she had worn the previous night. His face blushed slightly and he quickly looked away, afraid of getting caught looking over at their direction.

"Damn she's smoking hot." A classmate his age, Mingi spoke up.

"You know I'm more of a cat person, but fuck. I'd let that bunny hop herself on my lap and rut her sweet little ass on my cock."

Wooyoung's thumb pressed hard against the pencil he was holding, a tiny vein popping out of his neck that showed his displeasure at hearing such things being said about his fuck buddy.

"Keep dreaming Choi San." Wooyoung muttered under his breath in a passive aggressive tone.

"Ok but seriously, who's the bastard that gets to film her videos?" Mingi asked, a hand coming up to push up the glasses that were falling low on his nose bridge.

"Whoever he is, he's seriously one lucky guy." Seonghwa stated with a gloomy look.

"Yeah. Probably gets to jerk himself right in front of her as he's filming no doubt." San huffed, voice clearly laced with envy.

Wooyoung tried but failed in keeping a straight face, a smug grin appearing on his lips as he continued his task at hand.

"No but I get her to help me out after each session." He seriously wanted to say that out loud, but he contented himself with that knowledge that was a secret between him, Y/N and her cute yet menacing cat.

"Fuck it, I'm subscribing to her channel. Do you know when her next video will be up?" San whipped out his phone, tapping away at the keyboard as he looked up Y/N's camgirl profile on the website.

"I don't know but she's been a lot more active recently, posting a lot more content than before." Seonghwa answered.

"Great, cause I can't wait for her next project."

Wooyoung laughed inside himself when he heard San say that

"Trust me, neither can I...."

▩━━━━━━▩━━━━━━▩━━━━━━▩

With the camera held in his hands and the all too familiar throbbing inside his pants, Wooyoung kept his gaze locked on Y/N as she was spread across her bed. If he thought she looked stunning the night before, it was nothing compared to what she had on at the moment. Her body was exceptional beautiful in the glittering body chain lingerie consisting of a silver rhinestone bra that had a connecting waist belt with metallic tassels dangling from the ends. To top it all off, not only was her makeup more extravagant than the ordinary, but she had even gone as far as applying sparkling highlighter on some parts of her body like her shoulders, collarbone and the top of her breasts. She truly looked like an ethereal queen, one that many people would love to get a glimpse of up close and personal.

Y/N was a mess of stuttering gasps and whiny moans as she continued bouncing herself on the 8" dildo in between her thighs. She often open her eyes and look at the camera with a hazy look while adding a few comments that were bound to rile her viewers even further.

"I'm so close. I'm gonna cum...." She exhaled deeply, teeth biting harshly down at her lip.

"Are you gonna cum with me?"

Wooyoung felt like he very well could cum untouched just by the sheer sight of her. The dildo was lodged so deep inside of her, one could see it bulge out of her lower abdomen. She herself knew it as well as her hand brushed along the outline of it.

"Your cock feels so good inside me, I don't think I can hold off any longer."

With hands firmly pressed on the mattress to hold her up, she fucked herself so roughly down onto the sex toy, her cries becoming more loud and staggered.

"Oh fuck! Cum with me! Please cum inside this pussy of mine." She pleaded.

She collapsed on the bed after reaching an intense high, her mouth agape as she took in deep breaths to calm her heated body. Reaching down, she pulled out the dildo, a thin clear line of arousal coming out as well. Holding it up, she waved it in front of the camera, knowing fully well Wooyoung had zoomed in close to her face.

"Until next time my darlings." She giggled and gave an expert wink at the lenses in front of her.

"And cut."

As soon as he said those words, Y/N sat up and took hold of Wooyoung's arm rather sharply, pulling him so he could follow her into her bathroom.

"Whoah, still got energy left after that show princess?" He snorted when she closed the door behind them.

Huffing softly, she took the camera out of his hands and carefully placed it on the vanity counter.

"I'm sticky, sweaty and in need of a shower." Within giving any other explanation, she began unzipping Wooyoung's pants and sliding then down his legs.

"And I'm here because....?" Although he knew very well why she dragged him with her, he still loved feigning like he didn't know what she was up to.

"Because showers are a lot more fun when you have company." Looking up at him, she smiled and tapped on the bottom of his shirt, a signal for him to remove it, which he of course did.

After a pile of clothes was accumulated neatly and tossed in a corner, the two individuals stepped inside the glass surrounded shower. Turning it on to a cool temperature, both of them emitted soft sighs at the feeling of the refreshing water pouring down their bodies. Taking hold of her pink and soft sponge, Wooyoung took it upon himself to clean her body of the sparkling residue left from the makeup. Making sure to create as much lather as possible, he began to gently swipe the sponge across her body with slow and gentle movements, being careful with her skin lest he accidentally scrubbed too hard. Y/N would never admit it out loud, but she loved having intimate moments like this with him. Taking showers together just because, without needing anything to happen between them. Cooking together, which she ended up finding out Wooyoung was an above average cook, which added to his fatal charms that had her melting for him. Or just cuddling together on the couch as a movie played, more often than not ending with one of them on the floor after they decided to start play wrestling amongst themselves, both of them in fits of giggles afterwards.

After making sure to cover her body with the floral scented soap, Wooyoung stepped back and moved her so the majority of the shower head was aimed at her, rinsing off the foam around her body. Watching it trail off her figure and down the drain, he let out a satisfied smile at his work.

"All better?"

Instead of answering, Y/N came up to him and rested her head on his chest, eyes closing as her hands took hold of his arms to wrap them around her. Getting the hint, Wooyoung held her body against his, fingers lightly running themselves down her back in soothing strokes. Reaching up, her hands came up to rest against the muscles on his upper arms, fingers tapping against his skin every now and then. Wooyoung couldn't help but laugh softly when he felt her grip tighten around them.

"What exactly is it about my arms that makes you horny over them?" He questioned her.

Frowning slightly, Y/N pulled away to look at him.

"I do not get horny over your arms, excuse me." She defended herself against what she considered to be slanderous talk.

Quirking an eyebrow up, Wooyoung let out a scoff.

"Oh really? Then tell me everytime I wear a sleeveless shirt, you're practically drooling and keep your eyes off them?"

It was a good thing there was water splashing all over them or else Y/N wouldn't have been able to camouflage the subtle blush that appeared on her cheeks.

"I do not." She interjected.

Shaking his head in a teasing fashion, Wooyoung leaned in and pecked her lips.

"Beg your pardon miss, but I've seen the way you eye them, especially during my workouts."

Making sure to flex his muscles, Wooyoung gripped her tighter against his body, pressing her unbelievably close as his arms encapsulated most of her body, leaving her slightly out of breath from the tight squeeze he gave her.

"Is it cause you like having me smother you in an embrace with them?"

Wanting to play around with her even more, he suddenly pressed her back against the tile wall, arms coming down to place themselves at the back of her thighs.

"Or cause you like it when I man handle you like this?"

Y/N groaned when she felt Wooyoung's mouth start pressing kisses along her jaw and neck, tilting it back so he could have more space to work with. He chuckled when he felt her breath hitch.

"You're so easy to rile up beautiful." He pointed out in a cocky manner.

Not wanting to let him get away with his behavior, Y/N slid a hand down his chest before taking hold of his dick, making it spring back to life and get hard once more after forgetting how aroused it was when the cold water splashed onto it. She made sure to pump it vigorously, causing Wooyoung to pull back and moan loudly at her ministrations.

"I could say the same about you handsome. Just one brush of my hand against your thighs and your little friend comes up to greet me."

Closing her lips over his, any sound about to escape was muffled by her tongue which slid its way inside his mouth, massaging itself against his own wet muscle. As one hand continued stroking along his shaft, her other hand came down to cup underneath and fondle his balls. That action further fed his aching need to bury himself inside her wetness.

"Getting a little hot my love? Bothered? I can feel your cock throbbing in my hand." Knowing exactly what she was doing, she squeezed his balls rather hard as her thumb circled around his tip. That and the fact she bit down at Wooyoung's bottom lip was enough to make him lose control of his senses. He could no longer hold back after hours of having her tease him.

Prying her hands off him, he placed one hand on the back of her thigh and wrapped her leg up around his waist, allowing him to slide his length rather easily past her folds to rest inside her heat. Pressing her back against the wall once more, Wooyoung dropped his other hand down to her other thigh.

"Hold onto my arms." He whispered against her ear, a command she didn't need to be told twice as her hands placed themselves on his biceps. Hoisting her other leg around his waist, Wooyoung didn't wait any longer and immediately began slamming his hips into her. Having been sexually frustrated since their interruption that morning, both of them basked in the enjoyment of having their lower bodies connect again.

"Oh fuck- you're still tight even after fucking yourself wide open with that dildo?"

Y/N's hands clung tighter to his arms, nails nearly digging into his skin. Her wails were only half heard due to the pounding of Wooyoung's cock that had her back hitting against the wall behind her, cutting off her sounds midway. The way he gripped at her thighs was so strong that she had no doubt about having purple bruises on those spots for days to come, but she didn't care. Her mind was too focused on the overwhelming feeling of his cock inside her, cries of pleasure echoing through the room.

"You like me fucking you like this baby? Cock deep inside this little pussy of yours?" He taunted her as his timed thrusts continued to impale her tight core, slick and warm walls tightening around his hard shaft.

"Yes! Fuck me just like you are doing!" She exclaimed, eyes looking down to watch as his cock drove out of her only to ram itself back in. At this point she was becoming light headed, feeling intoxicated by the tension building in her body, ready to snap at any moment.

"Fuck! You're gonna make me cum!" She whimpered as she clawed into his arm muscles, making Wooyoung hiss.

"Then fucking cum like the slut you are." He growled against her ear.

With a piercing shriek, her walls tightened unbearably against his length, pulsating as she came hard all over him. Even during the peak of her climax, Wooyoung maintained his pace and harsh pounding, not giving her an ounce of pity to diminish the euphoric sensation overtaking her. Pulling out of her and safely bringing her back down, Wooyoung tilted her chin up so she could look into his lust filled face.

"If you think we're done, you're wrong baby. I'm not quite done with you yet."

Swinging her body to the left, Wooyoung pressed her body up against the clear glass window that covered the shower. Taking hold of her hips, Wooyoung's cock lodged itself inside her warm walls once more, the sound of smacking skin bouncing against the walls. Y/N placed her palms against the clear glass to keep her steady as his hungry cock fucked her in a furious rhythm. She could barely keep her eyes open as she was overly sensitive from not only her previous orgasm but from having played with herself rather intensely during their filming session.

"Fuck- your cock feels amazing." She moaned out in a low and airy tone.

"Yeah? Is it better than all those toys you fuck yourself with?" Wooyoung cooed against her ear.

"God yes! Way better. Wooyoung you fuck me so good." She responded, her wailing becoming higher in pitch as another build up began to rise up in her.

"So good that you'll cum for me a second time? Will you?" Y/N knew that wasn't a request, it was an order, an order that her body couldn't resist fulfilling, especially when the angle his hips hit against her ass had the head of his cock brushing against her g-spot continuously.

"Cum on me one more time beautiful. Let me feel you again."

Falling under the spell of his command, Y/N let out sputters of his name as her legs trembled under her, threatening to give out on holding her up had Wooyoung not had his hands keeping her upright as he kept pushing his cock into her from behind. It wasn't long before he himself felt himself being tipped over the edge.

"Shit! Oh shit!"

With a few more pops of his hips, he was done, spurt after spurt of cum filling her pussy up until it started running down her legs, getting swallowed up and washed away along with the rest of the water pouring out from above them. They both stayed still for a couple seconds, each one trying to catch their breath and steady their heartbeats. Resting his forehead atop of her shoulder, Wooyoung's raspy breaths were the only things she could hear.

"Fuck Y/N....." She let out an involuntary smile when he whispered that, his labored breathing telling her he enjoyed that quite a lot.

Withdrawing himself from between her legs, Wooyoung's dick softening after finally being able to find release in Y/N's body. Making sure to do a final rinse to clean up any leftover cum, Wooyoung turned off the water and carefully guided Y/N out the shower, knowing fully well her thighs were burning after all that.

"Easy there beautiful, don't worry I got you." He smiled ever so sweetly at her as he picked up a towel and draped it over her shoulders. Y/N let out a groan as she reclined back against the counter, exhausted from their intense love session.

"Wooyoung, could you please get me my pajamas and help me dress?" Her bottom lip poked out, voice slightly frigging after having her vocal chords nearly ripped out from all the screaming his cock had her doing.

"Of course beautiful. I'll be right back."

Booping his nose against hers, Wooyoung tied a towel around his waist before scurrying out of the bathroom in search of something comfortable for Y/N to wear. Through pained hisses, Y/N managed to turn her body so she was facing the mirror in front of her. Bending down, her face gave out a tired smile towards the camera that she had placed strategically on the counter beforehand, the tiny red light indicating it had been recording everything that happened in the shower, unbeknownst to her partner who was still in her drawers looking for her clothes. Reaching over, she stopped the film and made sure to save the file, a sly smirk on her face as her mind was already coming up with the title of her next project.

"Fucking my camera boy in the shower without him knowing...."

[kamotoshi]

intent [kamo noritoshi x reader]

pairing: kamo noritoshi (the good one) x sorcerer! fem reader 

genre: fluff, comfort

warnings: the whole story revolves around the reader being injured so there are brief mentions of medication, pain, and injuries; toshi bein a headass

word count: 3.7k

overview: you have to wonder what your best friend’s intentions are when he’s gone out of his way to visit you during every day of your recovery, no matter how busy he is

On one of the walls surrounding you, the clock’s hand shifts from one minute to the next. Through the speakers of your laptop, the movie you’ve stopped paying attention to long ago drones on in the background. Instead of focusing on the plot, you’ve taken to gazing out the window, watching the lush foliage outside painted vivid oranges and blues by the sunlight breaking through dark clouds dance in the breeze, as if celebrating the end of yet another spring shower. It feels hard to remember the last time you went for a walk outside—or anywhere, for that matter—and the more you think about how painful it is to be bedridden and out of action, the more you start to feel the dull, seemingly constant aches laying siege to your exhausted body.

Thankfully, the sound of the door to your temporary living quarters opening and closing again distracts you from your depressing thoughts, and, instead, makes your heart flutter with hope. Plastic crinkling, fabric shifting, and footsteps padding along the floor reach your ears next before a tall and familiar figure appears in the doorway to the bedroom. There’s a moment’s hesitation on his journey into the room, as if he’d been worried about disturbing you, but he continues with confidence when he sees you’re awake and expecting him.

With a small smile, you greet him, “Hey, ‘Toshi.”

“Hey,” he replies, “how are you feeling?” The long sleeves of his loose-fitting robes flutter behind him like a butterfly’s wings as he wanders over to the chair beside the bed you’ve been confined to for the past few days.

You shrug, glancing down at the bandages peeking out from beneath the sleeves of your sweater. “I’m alright, I guess.”

His eyes dart from the screen of your laptop to your own gaze, then back again. With furrowed brows, he adds, “What are you watching?”

“I wish I could tell you.”

“What’s the point of putting something on if you’re not gonna watch it? What else were you even doing?” he questions.

A scoff echoes from your throat at the fact that you’ve become the sudden subject of an unnecessary interrogation over such a trivial topic, but you can’t help the wry chuckle that follows upon noticing his unfazed expression. As usual, he doesn’t see the issue in such small debates. “I always could leave it to you to argue about the most irrelevant things.” In spite of the dull, warning pain that pangs in the side of your torso, you reach over to move your fingers over your laptop’s trackpad, but Noritoshi quickly stops you and does the job for you.

“Has everyone here been taking care of you while I’ve been gone?” is his next, surprisingly relevant question.

Leaning back against the pillows propped up behind you should give your body a sense of ease, but after spending so much time in one spot, you’re desperate to do the opposite instead. “Yeah. They’ve been checking in on me and bringing me food and painkillers, so I can’t complain.” Your lips curl into a small, devious grin when you mention, “You know, I went on a walk around the place with one of your servants and he told me all these funny stories about you when you were little, including the one where you accidentally gave yourself an awful haircut and refused to leave home without a hat.”

Self-consciously, he fingers the wrappings holding his dark strands of hair together, mindlessly beginning to unravel them. Though his attention is conveniently directed at the computer screen, you can see the blush that dusts his cheeks before his hair falls in front of his face when he removes its bindings. As much as you want to tease him over the event that had happened during his childhood, you find yourself at a brief loss for words at how he looks now. The way your heart thrums just a bit faster and harder is undeniable and fills your body with a different kind of pain, since you wonder if he’s ever looked at you the same way you’re looking at him.

Tracing over the handsome features of his face with your gaze, resisting the urge to separate the kinks in his hair from being held together so tightly all day, hoping you become the center of his attention again.

“You know we have movies here, right?”

His comment abruptly interrupts your thoughts, and you clear your throat before shooting back a, “What?”

“The one you’re watching is horrible.”

“Oh? And how would you know?”

He purses his lips and glances over at you out of the corner of his eye. There’s a somewhat uncomfortable pause before he blurts out, “A friend.”

“You’re a horrible liar,” you retort with a snicker.

You swear you see a hint of a smile playing at his lips as he sits back in his chair and crosses his arms in front of his chest. “I’ll bring back a better one from my room for us to watch after I go and change.” When his dark eyes meet with yours, there’s a tinge of something indiscernible in them. Sadnesss, regret, maybe a bittersweet kind of relief? It reminds you of how he’d first looked at you when he’d helped you into the bed in which you lie now.

“Have you eaten dinner yet?” You shake your head. “Alright. I picked some stuff up from the store. I’ll be back to cook in ten minutes.” He frowns at the shocked expression that appears across your face at the mention of him cooking, since it’s such a rare occasion—due mostly to his lack of skill in the area—and rises to his feet once more. He does, however, extend his hand toward you and say, “Come on, I’ll help you into the other room since I know you’d be too worried sitting in here while I make us something to eat.”

A coy smile forms across your lips as you shove the covers aside, exposing your legs clad in sweatpants to the cool air in the room. “You know me so well, don’t you?” is the remark you send his way in a facetious manner that only fuels Noritoshi’s chagrin. His hand feels incredibly warm against yours when he grabs it to help you out of your confinement in the shape of a memory foam mattress, and you tighten your grip around it as your legs tremble with fatigue. Moving closer to you, he allows you to wrap your arms around one of his to support yourself, bringing your body flush against his

“Eight years.”

“Huh?” Your eyes, which had been formerly directed at the floor to mask the effects of your racing heart, shoot upwards toward him.

His eyebrows furrow in that judgmental, what do you mean ‘huh’? type of look he always made and wondered why others recoiled at the sight of it. “That’s how long we’ve known each other, so it’s no wonder why I know you so well.”

Giving his arm a playful squeeze, you shoot back, “Didn’t know you’d been keeping count.”

“It’s basic math.”

“’Toshi… you’re so, brutally honest. No wonder I’m, like, your only friend.”

“So?” he murmurs, arm dipping to support you, then lifting once more when your leg nearly gives out on you, “I’d rather have you than anyone else.”

The way he lets what he’s just said be known in his unabashedly straightforward manner of speaking, without tacking any other comments on to verify his intentions are purely platonic sends a wave of comforting warmth washing over you. Over the years, you’ve known him for his sometimes abrasively candid nature, but you’ve always appreciated that he’s never left you to question the value he places on your friendship. In spite of his shy tendencies that seemed to be limited mostly to interactions with you when the two of you had first become friends, he’d never been one to beat around the bush—and he still didn’t now.

Though you’ve always assumed his comments like the one he’d just made were meant in a friendly way, you can’t help but wonder if maybe there is something he’s not being forthcoming about. If maybe his more relaxed pace while walking with you accompanied by his lingering touch as he helps you onto the couch is his way of prolonging the time during which he gets to be closer to you. If maybe the subtle softness to his expression while he watches you settle is a result of love rather than just a superficial level of concern. If maybe him opening his clan’s estate to you as a refuge where you could safely recover had been done out of a deeper affection he harbored for you instead of his own guilt at not being able to protect you in the situation that had led to your injury.

But these are speculations you force into the back of your mind out of the fear you’re being imaginative and presumptuous. Surely, if he’d felt anything more than friendship towards you, he would’ve said something by now… right? It’s getting harder to believe with each visit he spends at your bedside, falling asleep with his head on your shoulder while he’s sitting beside you or resting by your legs as he slumps over onto the bed from where he sits in his chair. Seeing him go out of his way to support you, as he’s doing now while he stands in front of the stove—glaring at all the ingredients before him like he’s attempting to intimidate them into making a meal out of themselves—doesn’t help rid you of your persistent thoughts either.

Thankfully, you’re able to find a bit of distraction through conversation with him about his day. Between your glances over at him, you take to staring out the window, watching the rain come pounding down against the earth once more. Unbeknownst to you, Noritoshi finds his eyes on your form each time he looks up from what he’s doing, but they flicker back to the task at hand upon noticing your head turn back to keep a careful watch on him. Unfortunately, the moment you smell good food is when you let your guard down, and it’s not until there’s a haze in the room that you realize you’ve had too much faith in him.

Tearing your gaze away from the flowers Tōdō had brought you earlier in the morning, you shoot a pointed look over your shoulder at where Noritoshi stands in the kitchen. “Noritoshi, the food’s burning.”

“No, it’s still cooking,” is his swift response laced with confidence, as is usual for him. There’s a loud sizzle when he nudges whatever’s in the skillet onto the other side, sending another plume of smoke upwards

“It’s literally smoking.”

With a sigh, he turns on the fan above the oven and quells the flame beneath the pan with a turn of one of the knobs. Rolling up the sleeves of his sweater, he prods rather cautiously at what you can only assume is a lump of coal with a fork. You don’t need to see his face to know that he’s realized the error of his ways, since his broad shoulders slump ever so slightly. You’re sure part of him wants desperately to say that it’s not that bad, but you only hear the grating sound of him chipping away at the scorched food.

It’s hard to keep a straight face, especially when he turns away from the disastrous attempt at cooking to face you and ask:

“So, what do you want to eat for dinner?”

Your answer to his question finds a box of your favorite food in your lap about a half hour later, and him close by your side as the two of you eat and watch one of the movies he’d brought over from his room. With the darkness of the sky outside and the warmth residing inside you both at having enjoyed a meal much more pleasant than the one he’d tried and failed to make, it’s no wonder you find him dozing off. And it’s only a matter of time before his head comes to rest against your shoulder—an action you can only assume was done unintentionally in his sleep, but that sends heat rising up to your face anyway.

As much as you enjoy having him close and feeling his deep breaths tickle your collarbone, you decide to nudge him back into consciousness after about fifteen minutes of letting him snooze in case he wants to go back to his own room.

“’Toshi…?”

“Hey,” he murmurs nearly unintelligibly, “are you okay? Do you need anything?” The level of concern in his voice and the questions he asks before his eyes have even fluttered open make it challenging to hide the grin that threatens to spread across your lips. Your noses nearly brush when he lifts his head, and the small squeak you nearly let out soon morphs into a gentle chuckle at the way he blinks slowly and knits his brows together with confusion as he tries to regain his bearings.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, you assure him, “I’m fine. I was just wondering if you wanted to go to bed.”

He frowns. “Maybe,” is his reply exhaled in a deep sigh as he stands so he can offer you his hand once more. “C’mon, I’ll help you back to the bedroom.”

There’s a somewhat heavy silence in the air after you thank him and latch onto his arm to steady yourself. Whereas his lack of chattiness is most likely from his own fatigue weighing heavily on him, yours stems from one of the many questions that’s been lingering in your mind. With the way he’d been going out of his way to assist you and keep you company between his missions, you can’t help but wonder what his true intentions are—and if he’ll tell you when asked. You don’t know if you can bring yourself to ask, however, and your own self-consciousness keeps you quiet while he helps you back into your temporary bed yet again.

He lingers, though, almost as if he can sense you have something on your mind with the way you’ve gone silent. So, he takes a seat beside you on the plush mattress and places his hands in his lap. The flash of lightning that brings a slow, rumbling roar of thunder along with it distracts him for a moment and his fingers grip each other tightly. He hates thunderstorms, and you’re one of the only people who know. In a movement that feels instinctual, you reach for his hand, sending a soft smile his way when he slides his clammy palm between your warm ones.

Maybe it’s because you know he’s feeling just as vulnerable as you are—which is a rare occasion with the walls he’s built up around his more personal thoughts and feelings—but words start rolling off your tongue before you can stop them.

“Say, ‘Toshi?” you ask. He hums in response, the low tone of his voice nearly lost beneath the rhythmic thrumming of rain crashing down against the roof. “Can I ask you something?”

“What is it?” Though his words were laced with exhaustion not that long ago, he seems much more alert now. Whether it’s his fear or his intrigue, you’re unsure, but his eyes meeting yours makes your breath hitch in your throat for a moment. The way you’re acting now brings a question you don’t intend on voicing to the forefront of your mind: How did I manage to deny my feelings for so long?

But the one you ask is: “Why are you doing all this for me?”

His brow raises. “What do you mean?” In a manner that’s comedic to you, he glances around the room, looking for whatever it is you’re referencing.

“I mean everything. Letting me stay here, taking care of me when you’re here, baking me dessert; hell, you even tried to cook me dinner.” Another clap of thunder gives you pause, and his fingers tighten around one of your hands. “So, what’s all this for?”

Brushing a few strands of raven-colored hair away from his face with his unoccupied fingers, he states, “I wanted to be the one to take care of you.”

Your face tingles with prickles of heat at his comment, but the sensation fades slightly when you notice his gaze has dropped to his lap and he’s allowed his bangs to shroud his expression. He doesn’t have the look of determination or even adoration in his eyes of someone who’s ready to confess their feelings. No, he looks guilty.

“Why?”

He fills his lungs with a deep breath that he releases in a drawn-out sigh before answering, “Because if I hadn’t suggested we split up during that mission, then this wouldn’t have happened to you.” The warm feeling of hope that had been swelling in your heart grows cold, like a flame extinguished by an icy gust of wind. “I needed to be the one to take care of you since I got you into this mess. This whole thing was my fault.”

“Oh, I see.” The biting undertones of your words don’t go unnoticed by him like they might normally would, since he lifts his head to look at you. With a shrug, you snap, “So you’re only doing all this to clear your guilty conscience, then?”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” is his rebuttal spoken with brows furrowed.

“What the hell else was that supposed to mean, then? How was I meant to take that? Because to me it just sounds like you’re doing this to make yourself feel better.”

He shakes his head in an act of irritation toward himself. “Yes, I feel guilty, but that’s not the main reason why I’m doing this.”

“What, did you do it to be seen as a hero? An amazing sorcerer who’s also an admirable friend? Someone capable of doing the right thing?” you retort sarcastically, the sting of rejection parading as rage tainting your tongue.

“I’m doing it because I love you!”

In the long, somewhat awkward silence that follows his confession, you almost expect his face to fall. For him to realize that he’d revealed something that he hadn’t meant to. Or, worse, for him to tack the condition, “as a friend,” onto the end of it.

But the honesty in his dark eyes doesn’t waver. He doesn’t turn away and mutter about wishing he hadn’t said what he did. He doesn’t backtrack to revise his confession in a way that would keep you safely in the friend zone.

Instead, he says it again with the same level of confidence: “I love you.”

And adds, “More than I think you understand.”

His grip around your hand tightens in a gentle manner different to the fear with which he’d clutched it before with each flash of lightning outside. “You… do?” you whisper as your heart begins to ache in the tight vise of regret you now feel at your outburst. He nods without hesitation in response, and a small tug on his sleeve beckons him closer to you, driving away the chill in the air between your bodies.

For a moment, neither of you move, and, instead, gaze at each other as if your eyes are speaking silent reassurances. Despite the confident nature of his words, his actions are somewhat timid, since you don’t feel his breath fan across your face until you cup his in your hands. But, as soon as you utter those same words in return and press your lips to his, he kisses away any lingering doubts or worries, as well as your quiet apologies. While the storm rages on outside, you can only hear your own heartbeat and the short breaths you take between each tender yet passionate meeting of your lips. It feels as if a great deal of time has passed before you pull away, and you’re grateful for every second of it.

Without so much as a second thought, you make yourself at home in his arms already wrapped around you, resting your head in the crook of his neck. His warmth envelops you when he carefully tightens his grip around you to avoid hurting you, and any pain you’d felt earlier seems to dissipate in the glow of happiness and overwhelming relief that have taken its place. Noritoshi nestles his face against the side of yours, and his body steadily becomes heavier against yours until the peace is disturbed by another roar sounding from the skies above.

“This storm’s not letting up anytime soon,” he sighs, “Want me to stay here with you?”

Before you can even answer, he starts peeling back the covers and settling himself down in bed beside you. And in spite of your heart fluttering with joy at the thought of him spending the night with you, the opportunity to tease him is too enticing for you to let it slip away. “Why would I need you to stay here with me, huh?”

As usual, however, he’s unnerved by your attempt at catching him off-guard, and calmly replies, “In case the power goes out or you can’t sleep because of all the noise, obviously.”

A wry chuckle bubbles in your throat as you lie down beside him and move the side of your head onto his chest. “Obviously. Where would I be without you here to take care of me? I’m very lucky to have someone as diligent as you are by my side, aren’t I?” you simper.

His fingers interlace with the ones you have resting on his torso running absentmindedly along the soft fabric of his sweater. Giving your hand a tender squeeze and pausing a moment to admire the way your palm fits into his, he murmurs, “I think I’m the lucky one.”

Your last statement had been delivered somewhat facetiously but seeing the way his cheek comes to rest against the pillow so he can look over at you with only pure, unwavering honesty makes you add, in a more serious tone, “That makes two of us, then.”