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buckets-and-trees · 5 months ago
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When He First Got Me
Characters/Pairings: soft!dark and rough Nomad!Steve Rogers x Female!Reader Word Count: 2200 Summary: Prequel in the Exiled Nomad Series. July 3, 2017. Steve sees you at a city festival for the Fourth of July, but he's not content with only seeing...
Content/Warnings: explicit smut, vaginal fingering, kissing, rough sex, emotional unavailability, a broken Nomad who thinks he's fine but definitely is not
Author Notes: IT IS NOT NECESSARY TO READ ANY OF THE REST OF THIS SERIES. True stand-alone prequel. A little something for Steve's birthday weekend... This will be a bit of a darker indulgence for @the-slumberparty's Sundae Bar challenge: mint chocolate chip (involving a loner), sprinkles (birthday and 4th of July), cherries (meet-cute), and we'll even say some caramel (because Steve is not quite in a great headspace if we're being honest). AND I'm entering this for @witchywithwhiskey's Slasher Summer writing challenge: carnival/fair, slight stalker (but not fully), and I bolded the dialogue prompt that I used.
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Steve didn’t feel like he could breathe easily, but he did feel like he could breathe here. Nothing like New York or DC. A place small enough not to be noticed but big enough to blend in without drawing attention as a stranger.
Being invisible somewhere had been easier than carving out the opportunity to do so solo over the 4th of July – less because it was America’s Birthday and more because it was his. Steve had suggested Wanda finally reconnect with Vision (they’d been on the run long enough, it should be safe for her to reach out and discreetly stay off the grid). The case he made to Sam was that he’d been on the run for over a year, and the 4th was less expected for a sentimental return to stop in on family but would still afford a holiday’s community celebrations and to give him reasonable cover to slip in and out. Nat hadn’t needed convincing. She saw, asked if he was sure, but understood without him needing to explain, and said she had things of her own that she’d take care of.
He just didn’t want any of the fuss of them trying to make him feel better on his birthday.
Steve was sitting on a shaded grassy knoll in the city park, hundreds of people around him, all weaving in and out of booths with games, vendors, and food, a vibrant temporary set up for a few days around the 4th, and on the far side of the park the sounds of carnival rides underscored it all.
He hadn’t come to this place to find someone.
But the moment he first noticed you, the plans started forming in his head before he could stop them.
And why should he stop them?
As he alternated between sketching in his notebook and people-watching, people watching turned into watching only you – you wandering this place clearly alone. Must be on your own in this city.
It would be so easy to harmlessly bump into you.
So he did.
When you recognized him, he could easily use the moment to draw you into keeping his presence in such a public place secret, getting you to trust him by him “trusting you” with his secret.
And he did.
He could easily ask if there were any good places to eat in town, then ask if you would join him.
He did, and you did.
After walking you home, it would be so easy to get you to invite him in, an afternoon and evening of conversation, compounding moments, and more and more casual touches on your arm, your shoulder, the small of your back, the back of your hand, having your body attune to him.
And it worked.
You hesitated, but invite him in you did.
And he tried for a moment to convince himself that being invited in had been all he wanted – to be someplace that wasn’t a stolen moment or a hotel room or a safe house that itself wasn’t very safe, just to be someplace private, someplace normal, someplace that felt like home.
But that was not the only thing he wanted.
And why shouldn’t he take the rest of what he wanted? After everything, didn’t he deserve it?
You didn’t notice that he locked the door behind him. You’d been apologizing for the state of your place, though after a quick glance around, he assured you it only looked lived in, not a mess.
Not like the mess he was so eager to make you into beneath him.
After insisting you didn’t need to get anything for him, he sat on your couch. He told you how nice it was just to sit there, nowhere to be, no reason to hide, how tired he was of running. You listened; you soothed him. He leaned in and kissed you.
You kissed him back.
All he did was kiss you until you leaned back on the couch and urged him along with you.
He let his chest press into your deliciously soft body. He groaned into the kiss, and you opened your mouth to his. This kisss grew in fervor, tongues exploring and tangling with each other. His hand ran up and down your thigh, slowly coaxing you to hitch it up around his waist. You moaned when he ground gently against your core – gentle only to test the waters. His need was mounting exponentially, and he knew the damn would break soon. He intended to let it.
He moved his lips from your mouth to your shoulder, kissing there before teasing his lips and teeth and tongue along your collar bone to the sensitive point of your neck. You sighed in bliss, and he moved his hand back up your thigh, over your hip, across your stomach, undid the top button he found there, and started to reach into your jeans.
Your breath hitched, and your hands flew to his.
“Steve, wait,” you said.
But you didn’t say stop.
He waited.
He could hear the wild racing of your heart beneath him.
The pressure of your hands on his body didn’t change, no part of you shifted to move away. Your eyes closed, the only sign of your reticence were your teeth worrying your bottom lip.
Steve slid his hand down to cup your pussy and his fingers found the wetness growing there that he expected. You let out a shuddering breath as his fingers worked your labia, but he didn’t linger there. He pulled his fingers out and then pushed them into your mouth.
“Neither of us wants to wait,” he snarled as you licked your slick from the pads of his fingers. “And it’s summer, we’re supposed to be having fun.”
Super soldier serum running through his veins, Steve picked you up with ease, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, legs around his waist, while he held one of your thighs and pressed his other hand at the base of your spine, pinning you securely to him while he captured your lips to kiss you again.
He easily found your bedroom, and he lowered you to the bed in a kneeling position. He didn’t relent in his kissing, devouring you, demanding your supplication. He only broke off the kiss once you were breathless, moaning, and pulling at his clothes. Then he stepped back and told you to undress. Steve quicky removed all his own clothing while keeping his eyes on you. You only removed your shirt and jeans, leaving you in your underwear, but he could work with that for now. He’d have you willing to shed the rest soon enough.
Steve got up on the bed with you, pleased that he could see your eyes darkening with the lust and the want. He recognized exactly the kind of want he was dealing with – it was how he imagined he would have behaved before living the harsh life of denial he’d lived while exiled and on the run for the past year. The old him would have wanted but been hesitant, gone slow, paid attention to more of the dance before even getting into bed.
He didn’t have the luxury of time or the patience for that.
He only had an insatiable need that he’d pushed down and ignored – ignored for years even before becoming Nomad. He’d denied himself so many things, sacrificed for others, for missions, too many legitimate and imagined reasons holding him back.
He wouldn’t hold back now.
But he would coax you into needing him as much as he needed you.
You only glanced at his naked groin with a moment of hesitance as he pulled you into his lap, but you still let him. He resumed your kissing, and you were quick to continue making out with him. He allowed you take the reins to steer the kissing, letting you lap up at the pace you wanted. He let his hands roam over your back as he eased you along, seemingly unhurried. But his hands soon made their way to your hips, and he secured his grip there and began grinding you down against his hard cock. He moaned unabashedly into your mouth as he adjusted the angle of your hips and continued rocking your core against him.
He was insistent on torturing you where your most intimate parts met until, clinging to his shoulders, you threw your head back, gasped for air.
“Steve,” you keened his name, clearly in the early stages of sweet ruin that he wanted.
He smirked against your neck and laid you down on your back with deceptive sweetness. He kissed slowly down your chest, between your breasts, down over your belly button. His fingers hooked into the top of your panties just as his lips arrived at the top of that fabric, and he peeled them down and fully off your legs. Your fingers worked anxiously over the sheets beneath you as he made you wait for him to touch you more.
His hands opened your legs back up, pushing at your knees to splay you open like a butterfly beneath his attention.
He worked both of his thumbs up and down over your labia, smearing your cunt with your juices, studying what he was about to claim and ruin. Then he looked up at your face and said, “This is mine now, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” your voice was soft, nervous, but also eager.
It hadn’t actually been a question, but he wanted you to say it out loud.
The only question was how he wanted to take you first.
Since he planned on taking you in every way, he went with the most convenient first, easing his cock into you slowly, but with no apologies for how thick he was, pressing into you despite the resistance – not that of a virgin, but of a cunt that had never taken a cock so big before. You cried out – but he knew the tone of it was pain drenched with bliss, he could hear it. What’s more, when he was fully sheathed inside you, he waited, unmoving. He watched your chest rise and fall with a few breaths. When you finally shifted your hips against his, he knew he had won. You wanted more. The beast inside of him surged in satisfaction, and then he began to aggressively thrust in and out of your tight channel.
He leaned forward, and your knees hitched up around his waist to urge him on. You clawed at his back, and when he reached between your bodies and found your swollen clit, he rubbed furious circles over it until he was rewarded with the clenching of your cunt around him, the seizing up of every muscle in your body, as he delivered your first orgasm of the night.
He continued pumping in and out of your spasming cunt until he was right at the edge, then pulled out and fisted his cock with only two more strokes before releasing hot ribbons of cum over your stomach.
Your fingers inched hesitantly toward the mess, and he put his hand over yours and pushed your fingers and his through the mess, pressing it into your skin. Then he moved your hands away and lowered his body down onto yours, the sticky spend between your skin and his there.
“I…” you started, but then paused.
He slipped his other hand beneath your head, cradling it in his palm. “Mmm?” he hummed against the spot behind your ear.
“I’m clean and have an IUD.”
He groaned and nipped at your neck. “You want me to continue to fuck you more. You want me to cum inside you.”
“Yes, Steve,” you simpered.
“Mmm, such a good girl,” he pressed a hot kiss against your neck, then rolled off being on top of you, and to his side next to you. “Best give you what we both want, then,” he said as he turned you onto your side, back pressed to his chest, and felt below to press his dick into your hole again.
Hours later when its far past midnight, you’ve passed out from exhaustion.
Or at least that’s what he thought.
But when he slipped back onto your bed after taking a piss, you scooted your body in next to him, put your hand on his chest, and muttered the sleepiest, “Happy birthday,” to him he’d ever heard. He almost wondered how you knew switching from the third to the fourth meant it was his day, but then he remembered the time when seemingly everyone knew it was Cap’s birthday.
While he wasn’t Cap anymore, it still struck something in him and made his chest warm.
But he didn’t feel like you would make a big deal out of it or make him feel bad and that maybe it would be nice to be with someone on his birthday, so he decided to stay. He told himself it was to be distracted chasing more bliss with your body. He ignored the other thoughts working through his mind. He only wanted – only needed – the distraction. Nothing else.
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NEXT: July 4, 2017. read more Exiled Nomad Series
I'M GLAD Steve's POV won in the poll I ran earlier this week... clearly since I made the poll my muse was leaning heavy towards it anyway, but this was certainly illuminating to see more of where Steve's head is at in this ... situationship.
↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!
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afewfantasies · 8 months ago
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I don't know why but when I first started reading feyd fanfics, in my mind feyd would dye/paint his teeth every day because he thought it looks intimidating and now there will forever be the image of feyd sitting at a vanity every morning meticulously coloring his teeth black
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"Black Smile"
OMG, I love this so much. We know Feyd loves to put on a show, so this fits. Anything to add to the persona, the intrigue and the pageantry of it all. Here's a little Feyd X Reader imagine with this premise. Feyd is also the current Baron.
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 575
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Feyd X Reader (Established relationship w/ children)
ᴘʟᴏᴛ: Feyd's painting his teeth to prepare for a public appearance. His small children see it for the first time.
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None, this ones fluffy 🖤
"Black Smile"
Turning Feyd stops painting his smile at the sound of little feet, casting a look over his shoulder he stops seeing his children. His daughter scrunches her face up stopping dead in her tracks. He prepares for the worst but thankfully there are no tears.
“Daddy what’s that?” She asks amusing him. She only knew daddy, not Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. “Daddy I don’t like it” she adds coming closer. Seeking him for comfort in spite of his look being the reason for her uncertainty.
“Me neither” His son says both sets of little eyes pairing at him. Feyd turns again as you enter the bedroom. It brings back memories of your first meeting, when it was the only way you knew him. Black teeth to add to the terror.
“Your mommy likes it” Feyd says and both children turn to you in shock..
“They were coming to say goodbye and wish you a safe voyage” you explain running your hands over your babies heads. Feyd nods.
“Mommy you really like it?” Your daughter asks skeptically and you nod.
“C’mere” he growls playfully sending both kids screaming before he can give chase. You smile as they run out the chambers.
“Missed a spot” you tell him pointing to a white streak along one of his teeth. He finishes up the job leaving all of his teeth smooth and black before curing them with so it looks natural and lasts.
“How do I look?” Feyd rasps adapting the voice and the terrifying persona of his reputation.
“Like a Harkonnen” you respond.
“Daddy?” Your son calls running back into your room. Feyd raises a brow.
“Can I have it too, I want to scare my sister” your son bounces. Instead of saying no Feyd picks your boy up sitting him on his lap. You laugh knowing your little girl will be next in line.
“I’m not sure I like this” you confess looking at your son’s black teeth and gums as Feyd cures the paint. Your kid hisses at you and you laugh thinking it must be hereditary. He runs back out the room and you listen out for screams. Sure enough a blood curling scream proceeds hysterical laughter. Running hard your daughter re-enters bouncing.
“Daddy, Daddy, me tooo!” She bounces and Feyd picks her up indulging her request. He’s so good with the kids it’s unreal, it warms your heart more than he could ever know.
“Mummy, how’s it look?” Your daughter says giving you a black grin.
“Interesting” you smile and she runs out to terrorize her brother and the staff no doubt. You turn to Feyd in amusement and he pats his knee.
“Your turn” he says.
“No thank you,” you respond having a seat on his knee. Looking at him in the mirror you try to picture him for the first time, you try to remember how he made your heart palpitate, how weary you were of his black smile, how terrified you were of him. “Smile?” You ask and he obliges leaving you to shudder. “Terrifying papa” you wink at him in the mirror earring a smile. 
“Good” he nods and you chuckle holding back your smile. It never ceased to amaze you the lengths Feyd would go to to serve maximum horror. There was a sense of pageantry and exaggeration that you found ironic and amusing. Of course he’s never needed the black smile to be intimidating but it adds a little je-ne-sais-quoi. 
-----
Authors note: thanks for the idea anon, genuinely never considered this possibility - its been fun to ponder 🩶
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notafunkiller · 1 year ago
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we found wonderland
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Summary: You have a choice to make: you either set yourself free or continue to play the game.
Pairing: (fake) boyfriend’s brother!Bucky Barnes x female reader
Warnings: 18+, age gap (r is 26, Bucky is 39), teasing, dirty talk, unprotected séx (but she is on the pill), pet names, daddy kínk, language, implied aftercare, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 2.4K
story masterlist
Bucky Barnes masterlist
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this mini-series! Thank you for reading!
Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!
You had decided you should wait for a week before making your relationship public, using that time to try to convince your parents to change their mind while Bucky plays pretend with his. It’s not an ideal situation, but he understands, keeping the truth to himself.
What he can’t keep to himself is his hands. Not that you can… but as soon as he comes home, he’s all over you, not even caring you are in the living room sometimes.
Acting like you’re just friendly is very hard for you. You want to touch and kiss him like crazy. Having sex with him changed the game, and now you try your hardest to find a way out of this deal so you can be in this relationship completely.
You laugh at the way he pouts. “You’re really adorable for an old man.”
“Is it so crazy I want us together?”
You melt, leaning in to kiss his chin. “That’s not crazy, baby, but isn’t that a little fast?”
“We’ve been living together for months now. What’s the difference?”
You wish you could find the right words to explain it. It’s quite scary and exciting, but it feels strange. “We’ve been together for a couple of days. Maybe we don’t…”
“Are you thinking of a break up already?”
You jump immediately. “No! Maybe we don’t have things figured out enough yet. And by we I mean me. I won’t have a job anymore if my parents don’t change their minds. I won’t have a real home. I won’t have anything but you. And I love every moment I spend with you, but I want something of my own, and I definitely don’t want to feel like a burden even if you don’t make me feel like that. My life is a mess.”
“And I want to help. I am not trying to control you or suggest something you don’t want, but we are friends, too, not just a couple. I am here for you. You can stay with me as a friend if not as a boyfriend. I want you safe.”
You say nothing, only staring at him for a while. You don’t even know what to say because the mix of emotions you feel is confusing.
“You know what I want?”
“What?”
“I want to fuck you right now.” You don’t try to hide your neediness as you place your hands on his shorts. “Can I, baby? Can I ride you?”
“Fuck, you’re gonna kill me before I turn forty. Is this your plan? Do you want me gone?” He’s already raising his ass so he can help you take off his shorts quicker.
“I want you with me always. Want you inside me so badly.”
He groans at your tone. “Then go for it, baby, take whatever you want. It’s all yours. I’m all yours.”
You smile eagerly seeing his hard cock, and lift his T-shirt. You cannot stand anything between your bodies right now. You just need to feel him. “God, we should go to the bedroom, but I can’t wait.”
You take off your underwear, unable to wait any longer. As if someone is holding a knife to your throat, and if you don’t get Bucky inside you in the next seconds, you’re gonna die.
“Anyone can walk in,” he says as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. He probably even enjoys it. “Can you imagine their faces?”
You snort, bringing his dick to your entrance without hesitation after spreading your legs further apart. “No, but I can imagine yours when you come.”
“You don’t need to imagine. You’re gonna see it up close if you hurry up.”
Neither of you even realize you’re not using a condom for the first time until it’s too late and you’re already sliding down.
Your grasp on his shoulders is so forceful, you’re sure it will leave a mark, as you moan his name.
“James…” You desperately look at him, wanting to see if he feels the same. “We’re not using anything.”
“I c-can feel that.”
“God damn it, James,” you sound like you’re scolding him, but in reality you are just overwhelmed.
“What did I… fucking hell, I am totally not getting to turn forty. I will die tonight.”
You ask with your eyes closed. “Do you want me to get a condom?”
“No, I want to die.” He groans, already in a different space. “Unless you want to… I am clean and you are, of course, and I can pull out, but like it’s not… I can go grab a condom right now.”
You immediately shake your head, placing your hand on his chest. He’s not gonna do that. He has to make you come.
“You are not going anywhere, you get out of me and I’ll die!”
“So you’re ovulating?” He asks casually, with a playful grin spread across his face.
You chuckle, hitting him in the shoulder. 
“Yes, I am, and you gotta take care of me.”
Bucky groans, grabbing your ass, unable to keep his hands off you. You’re so hot and warm. “You’re really, really wet, princess.”
“Ihm.” You slide down further, almost taking all of his cock. “Look how deep I took you now.” You moan proudly, feeeling so stretched like this. “Look at this, daddy.”
And when he lets his eyes drop to your entrance, he has no idea how he doesn’t com right then. The sight is incredible.
“Baby…”
“I’m your baby, daddy.” You quickly take off your T-shirt at the same time you move your hips. As soon as he’s naked, you grab your breasts, holding them together with a smirk. You know that is going to affect him, and it makes you feel powerful.
“Oh God,” he groans as you bring your breasts closer to his mouth.
“Come on, daddy, go ahead.”
It’s all he needs to hear before he takes your right nipple into his mouth and the left one between his fingers. Riding him like this is a little difficult, but it’s not impossible. You love getting your breasts played with, and he loves doing it.
There is also something really hot and thrilling about the possibility of getting caught. You have no idea why and how, but you’re going to enjoy this as much as you can.
“You feel so good like this, nothing between us. Nothing between your come and me,” you moan, not even thinking about what you say.
“You can’t say that and expect me to be strong.”
That makes you laugh. “I’m on the pill, though, you don’t have to be strong.”
“Fucking hell, you’re gonna drive me crazy.” He starts to thrust his hips back so he can meet you halfway. Riding him feels so, so good. You got him deeper, and the lack of a condom makes you properly feel his thickness.
“You feel so… Fuck, your cock is filling me just the way I need it.” You grab his shoulders so you can move faster. “You’re such a good daddy, let-letting me use you right here, where everyone could see us.”
“You love using daddy’s cock.” He looks so drunk, in so much pleasure. “Such a naughty girl.”
“I’m your naughty girl, James.”
“All mine.” His hands on your hips help you move faster indeed, and you’re already so close you can barely keep your eyes open.
“F-faster.”
Bucky stops thrusting his hips back, and you groan. You need more.
“If you want it faster, keep your eyes on me, pretty girl.”
“I c-can’t-” As much as you want to fight this, your eyes instinctively close again. “Ss-so close.”
He can hear your desperation and without hesitating, he brings his hand into your hair and pulls unexpectedly hard. That’s enough for you to come loud. So loud you can hear yourself as you let the pleasure consume every bit of you.
But Bucky doesn’t stop moving his hips, making your orgasm last longer. He’s saying things, probably dirty things, in your ear, but you can’t understand anything. Your ears are still ringing.
And just like that, Bucky comes too, with his right hand still wrapped around your hair while the left one is digging into the skin of your hip.
“Fuck, I’m coming inside you, baby, can you feel it? Can you feel me filling your pussy, baby?”
“Ihm,” you can barely whisper, too overwhelmed by everything.
“Whose come?”
“Y-yours.”
“Good girl.” He groans as soon as he finishes coming, wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you. “This feels like heaven.”
“I don’t think I can go back to wearing a condom now. I mean if you want to…”
“Are you sure? We can still use one just to make sure we are safer.”
You peck him. “We can still use it, don’t worry, I get it. Looking out for me and stuff.”
He lets out a deep breath, thankful you understand what he means.
“Of course I am looking out for you, that’s my job.”
“Job? You are my daddy, not my mom or dad.”
“I am your partner and your friend. I will always look out for you.”
A sudden urge to fuck him again takes over your body, but before you can do it, your phone starts ringing.
Bucky gives you the phone without moving, and when you both see it’s his brother, you groan.
“Hi, William.” You try to sound as normal as possible, but your voice is so raspy it’s impossible.
“Hey, gonna be home in a few minutes. Are you okay? Is Bucky home yet?”
“Ihm, he came.” You wink at James. “All good here. See you.”
You don’t wait for him to answer before you’re hanging up.
“You came too.”
You giggle immediately. It’s hard not to be around Bucky; he is goofy at the right time. “We need to clean up, though, he’s close.”
“Alright.”
*
Your parents didn’t want to listen to you at all. You didn’t have the chance to talk at the party since they’re avoiding you at all costs, and you had to go outside not to cry in front of everyone. You don’t just feel alone and treated like shit, you feel humiliated.
You’re lucky Bucky went to pick up William because his car broke down halfway here, so he didn’t actually witness your breakdown. You know he’d have done something about it. Something you should.
At this point, what do you really have?
“Hey, are you well? Why are you outside, it’s freezing?”
Bucky’s voice makes you jump as he’s suddenly by your side, rubbing your arms. William is right behind him.
“Baby, why are you outside?”
You see Bucky rolling his eyes, and you sigh.
“I wanted some fresh air, William.” You turn toward Bucky before taking a step back. You don’t want him to think you reject his touch. You really need his hug, but it’s not about what you need. “We should go inside.”
He nods, and all three of you make your way close to the improvised stage in the main room.
It’s crazy how many people actually came; it almost feels suffocating.
Your parents have been talking for a while, you assume, because people were animated. You wonder what they promised them.
“And since we’re all here now, I have something to announce,” Bucky’s dad takes the microphone all of a sudden, and William sighs. You want to ask him what is going on since he looks nervous, but you don’t have time to. “I want to invite my son, William, on the stage with us.”
And then he calls your name.
You look at both of your parents, trying to understand why you’d be needed there, and Bucky is just as confused as you are. Everyone starts clapping, and you find yourself dragged on the stage before you can protest.
“Tonight marks a very special moment for us both: professionally and personally.” You freeze, looking at Bucky instantly, but he’s also shocked, shaking his head. “A partnership that will last for a long time, hopefully, passed to a real-life partnership that has developed over the last months.”
William smiles proudly when his dad pats him on the back, and you want to throw up right then.
You turn your head to your parents, who display the fakest smiles you’ve ever seen. They don’t care about what you want. About what you need. Either way, you’re alone, and you cannot continue to play their game. You can’t!
And before anyone can stop you, you’re basically running down the stairs, straight toward Bucky. You quickly wrap your hand around his neck and force him to lean in so you can properly kiss him. You sense his surprise, but you don’t stop, using the opportunity to shamelessly kiss him in front of the whole company, including your parents. He’s yours, and everyone should know it.
He cups your face when you break off the kiss to breathe, and you smile.
You finally did it! You’re free.
You don’t need to turn around to know how upset your families must be. Everyone around you is either gasping or whispering around. You know they’ll be talking about this for a solid week at least, but you’re not gonna be there to hear. You won’t explain anything to them, and they can consider you a cheater who fucked the other brother all they want. It is not your mess to fix. You just want to leave.
“Let’s get out of here,” you whisper, taking his hand. All you want is to eat something and suck him off. “I need to pack my stuff.”
“Are you sure?” He asks concerned as you start to walk toward the exit. Neither of you turns when William calls your names.
“I have never been more sure in my entire life.”
He says nothing as you reach his car, lifting the hand he’s been holding closer to his lips so he can brush a tender kiss against the back of it.
You’re going to be okay.
Tags:
@charmedbysarge @identity2212 @vicmc624  @cjand10  @mayusenpai666  @abitofblues @doveromanoff @buckyb-stan @igotmajordaddyissues
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hanjisunglover · 9 months ago
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐀𝐘𝐒
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𐙚 pairing: volleyball player!han jisung x nerdy fem!reader
𐙚 genre: smut, high school au, strangers to ??, angst, fluff
𐙚 word count: 6.7k
𐙚 warnings: reader is a virgin, jisung it's kinda an asshole, he's also lowkey manipulative, dirty talks, dom! jisung, sub! reader, jisung it's kinda needy at the end, fingering (f!recieving), oral recieving ( m! and f! receiving ), eating cum, penetration, unprotect sex ( stay safe y'all), semi-public sex (people walking down the hall) spank kink ( f! receiving), breeding kink. Jisung's friends bullies reader, ji it's pretty jealous.
𐙚 summary: y/n has the best grade in history, jisung is just a volleyball player that can't keep himself out of challenges, so why not seducing the pretty y/n?
𐙚 members mentioned: minho, bang chan, hyunjin
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[ jisung 02:34 am ] what are you asking me to?
[ minho 02:38 am ] you want the money? fuck her then :)
[ jisung 02:39 am ] why her? com'on you can think someone else
[ minho 02:40 am ] because her brother is in the team that we need to piss off for the next game, we need to win this time, that's why
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You love History, you like the feeling of knowing things more than the others. You always been intelligent and smart, above the people. Never been out with a guy, never really trusted yourself enough for a relationship with anyone more than your own brother. Chan always been the extrovert in the family: you loves books, he loves volleyball and parties. You never complained to see him jumping around as the captain of the Lokeys and as setter.
That's how jisung started to ask you some help with history. You were so surprised when he stopped you from going out the class after the long and super interesting lesson from Mrs. Yang, that woman showed you the best way to love the Roman Empire. His cheeky smile and his strong cologne made your mind spin, but you tried to keep it cool to refuse. Until he talked about paying the extra sessions, and then.. how can you refuse it?
Extra money, talking about your favorite subject, that's the jackpot for a nerdy like you. You still don't trust him to make him come to your house to study, that's how you end up in the car of your big brother.
"Why you didn't refuse to help him?" Chan pinch his bridge of the nose, sigh lightly, he doesn't like the idea of her little sister with Jisung. He doesn't really know him, he doesn't know that much to let her sister go with a guy like him. For Chan you're still his baby sister, to protect from the world.
"it's gonna be fine, I'll keep my location on in case, don't worry okay? it's just study at the library." just study at the library, that's your thoughts. But you have the feeling of something else happens in your head, the drive to the school it's quiet enough to let you think.
Jisung, Han Jisung, the best setter that your school ever had before. He's good, he practice so hard everyday, he loves volleyball more than everything and you unfortunately knows. You know because Chan is the captain of the Lokeys, team that wins against them every single time. The difference now?
Jisung is in the team. And he talks with his members without even explain anything, he can read people in the best way possible, he can gets the opponents' moves even before they make them. It's just a genius in his game
Your brother drops you off and as you walk out he stops you holding your wrist a little, "hey, call me if he's being an ass, kay? I still can wait in the parking lot until you're done."
"hey, I got it." You smile softly at him as he waves at you from the window of the car as he speed right in front of you, just to make you laugh. You look at the doors of the school with a big breath.
The people around there are just some professors, some crazy kids that loves the book at the school and the sport clubs with the training hours, you never understood why put so much effort on your body. You hates sweating. And moving, in general it's not your favorite thing in the world, that would be diaries from the 40' about the WW1.
You try to find a quiet spot in the library, with your bag on your shoulder and the books against your chest, you need to find the perfect table to not have too many people around. Perfect to low talk and not being caught by the hateful librarian, who frankly - hates you. The reason? You may or not have held about ten books from the school on the industrial revolution.
I mean, who would blame you? they are good books, at least for you, and some other nerds. That you don't know, you don't talk to many people, you're voice it's so quiet that everytime people ask you to repeat yourself, at least three times.
As your turn the corner you notice a little table, not bigger than one seat each side, perfect. You fix your clothes as you sitting, putting the books and the conceptual maps that you like to make, your handwriting is delicate, neat and everything is divided down in color due to your visual memory. You are envied for your notes, which are going around to your classmates every time for classwork.
You waited for two hours there. Any reasonable person would have already picked up their things and gone. Not for you. You, you stayed there, studying anyway. You tried not to waste time and clear your thoughts as you finished your notes from the last lesson. When suddenly your phone rings.
[ Channie 18:21 ] are you guys almost done? :D
[ y/n 18:21 ] he never show- As you type the text Jisung gets inside the library, a grin in his face that makes every girl turn her head to look at him, he's wearing his classic uniform to training for volleyball. His movements are full of confidence as he looks around for you, as he stands up in front of the table he start to chuckles.
"Hey beautiful."
[ y/n 18:24 ] nope, but I text you when we are ♡
"my name is Y/n," muffled words gets out your mouth as you look over him, his tonic body gets right in front of you and your side of the table.
You bow a little as you press your lips together in an awkward smile, he chuckles as he cross his tonic arms against his chest. "I know, but names are not my favorite. I like nicknames, so.. you took this thing serious I see," he murmurs.
Jisung take his seat right next to you, his sweaty body makes you feel almost dizzy for how hot he looks, shiny tears of sweats driving down his neck, going inside his shirt. You're trying to not stare, but it's really hard when you have a good looking guy next to you. "So where you lack the most?" You says clearing your throat with a light cough, moving your hair behind your ear as you look at the chapters in the book in front of you. His eyes are on your lips are you talk.
"Right, of course." he nods once and gives you a charming smile as he looks down, trying to focus on the book. Jisung smirks as he watches you blush.
"Now, now… why should I be focused when I have you next to me, looking all cute and gorgeous?" He chuckles in amusement and leans closer toward you, his arms crossing over his chest. "Would be hard to concentrate on anything else, really." he winks at you and runs a hand through his hair.
You blush hardly to find him so close to your face, try to muffles some words but everything that comes out from your mouth a some gasps, he's being clearly flirty and that makes you flustered already, "book, study, please?"
He chuckles as he presses his index finger against your cheek, the sudden contact makes you confused but you manage to control it, "why don't we play a game mh? Simon says. one each."
You sigh, because you think it's the best way to make him focus. "okay, who's start?"
"Ladies first," he moves his hand over you almost brushing his fingers over your arm and you shiver at the light touch, Jisung can read your face and your thoughts as if your internal dialogue is speaking to him.
"Simon says open your book and take notes," your light order make him chuckles, but he listen and he grab his own book opening at the same page as you.
You breathe a sigh of relief as you begin to highlight important points about the book, his focus lasts for about half an hour before he places both hands on the table and looks at you intently with a smirk.
"Simon says, let me kiss you," you almost choke yourself with his words, you shake lightly your head, "no com'on.. please.. it's-it's enough."
Jisung smirks when you turns your head a bit, getting closer again and nudging your jaw with the tip of his thumb. "I think you don't know the game, sugar. You have to do whatever Simon says. Otherwise your turn is lost." Jisung chuckles softly and raises a brow again, his other hand drifting to your thigh, right under your skirt. He keeps teasing you and playing with your mind.
You squeeze your thighs together as she whine a little, looking at him lightly as she glance at his lips, sighing deeply, "Are we gonna back to study after?"
"Yes, promise." Jisung chuckles softly and raises a hand to your face, stroking your cheek softly and tilting your head back toward him. "Can I have your answer now, sweet thing? Or do you need me to make this harder for you?" The hand on your thigh squeezes your leg gently, making you squeal, and he leans in to breathe in your scent. Jisung's lips are just inches away from yours now, his breath hot on your skin. The tension is thick as he lean on you.
He kisses you softly, biting your bottom lip with determination, he's running too fast for you; it's your first kiss. Your eyes are closed as he keep kissing you with transportation. The moment breaks as you get breathless, your cheeks red like cherries and your eyes locked in his. "it was your first kiss, isn't it?"
As you nod he chuckle like a kid, This is gonna be easier than I thought, jisung is thinking about. You cover your face with your hands he moves his hand on your thigh again, "oh don't worry angel, I'll be gentle next time, but I can't promise anything."
Next time? oh you're totally losing it. He talks about a second kiss? you only saw those kinda of things in movies or tv series that you cry yourself on during the night when you feel that you need to 'suffer' about a relationship - that frankly, you never had. But that's not a problem for you, you never expected someone to loves you like the movies, or loves you like the songs that you always listen and fills your playlists.
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Between the lessons in the days after, Jisung started to talk to you, to even say hi between the periods, also doing small chats between you two.
"hey y/n!" "can you help me with the study after?" "let me buy you some coffee," "we should hang out soon."
the kiss, the kiss, the kiss. That is the only thing that run through your mind, every time he is around. You can't stop think about it! it's all over your head, as soon as you close your eyes you can feel his lips against yours again, and just the thought makes your panties extremely wet. For God sake, you're lucky that he didn't touched you in the library, you're not sure that you are capable enough to shut your mouth. He's so attractive, walking around with his confidence that build just insecurities to the people in the hallways, so hard to get it for you. But hey, you're not in the same level as him.
He's a 10, you're a 6. Your brother would say a minus 8, but it's your older brother, so his vote doesn't count. Because he would say anything to make you genuinely happy, he loves you unconditionally it's impossible for him to not give you a right number. But still, you don't believe him.
During the middle school, your class listed the girls from the prettiest, to the ugliest. Just a funny game, but you hated it, all of the competition that shouldn't be in a bunch of 16 years old girls made you feel more and more uncomfortable. With your body, your extreme intelligence, made you ended up in one of the last positions.
You started to believe it, because if everyone agree, why it shouldn't be the truth? So you started to act like one, eating alone during lunch, your assignments with a group of people you decided to made your part by your own, your friends started to hang out with other people so; why force something that already is done.
Walking down the hall, by yourself and your eyes focus on the floor, Jisung is sneaking from behind, putting his arm around your shoulder, "hey beautiful."
"uh! hi, hi jisung," You mumble as you almost drop everything that you're holding in your arms, his eyes are traveling from your eyes to your lips, the tension building up inside you. "how are you doin? still too busy to hang out with me?"
He never asked you, "you never asked me."
Your sudden change of tone makes him giggle, holding you tightly against himself, your face get dangerously close to his, "so you would've say yes? Look at you y/n, all confident to talk back to me."
Cheeks getting red, makes him just more giggly and happy, because he knows that his friends are looking right at the end of the hall, where they can see how much he has you under his power. The deal with them is simple: fucks her, bring a proof and the proof can only be her underwear, dirty of his sperm.
In his head he already created the perfect occasion for that, how to make you beg for him, to gets on your knees just because of him. Just the thought of taking your virginity makes him hard, he clear his throat, "so wanted to ask you for, another lesson. maybe somewhere else, you know.. not in the library."
You feel your body slightly tensing up, feeling your legs almost numb for his words, "where? I'm just.. see my schedule and see if I can make it."
"my house. today, after my practice." Your eyes goes wide open, your surprise make him giggle as he nods,"yes angel, my house."
"I said I need to check my schedule, don't.. don't hope too much."
"Oh but I know you're coming princess, you can't say no to me."
You know jisung's house like one of the most beautiful - also richest - spot in the city, his father is a really important manager for one of the biggest volleyball team in town. His parties are always big and always loud, nothing in compare to what you do on Saturday.
But you also know, that he never invites girls over, that something that a lot of girls - specially the female volleyball team - complains all the time in front of you instead of listening to the history lessons. The talk, and talk and talk about him, and the only occasions when girls can get in his house.. is to hook up.
And that's how you ended up in his room, waiting for him to finish his shower, a book in front of your eyes but your head fill with thoughts.
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"Simon says, tell me your dirtiest fantasy," he says clicking the pen in a almost rhythmic way, his eyes on your blushing. Because even if you're just a virgin, your head always fantasized about so many things. You guys are been studying for two hours now, he's overworked to let you talk for that long, when his only thought has been bending you over and take you right there. right now.
He try to push your to the limit until you spill it out, "okay, fine. fine I'll tell you," you mumble as he chuckle happily, his hand finish on your thigh, making you blush even more, "I think.. I think I like it rough. I mean, it's just an assumption, because I'm still a virgin."
"you know what I like?"
His question doesn't sounds like one, but you let him finish talk, his hand travels up and down from your knee to your inner thigh. Your skirt moves with his touch, "I like to make happy pretty girls like you."
Your cheeks get red as cherries just making him smirk like a cheeky kid that just had the answer that he wanted, "I think I.. could make you happy, angel, if you just.. let me." You can feel your heart bouncing in your chest when he starts to kiss your neck, his hand finds his way on your panties, feeling the wetness against the thin fabric.
"So fucking wet already."
You can't actually tell how you ended up on his bed, your thighs spread open and his face right between them. "jisung.. jisung please.."
Jisung chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against your sensitive flesh. He takes a moment to tease you, licking and kissing your inner thighs before finally placing a hot, open-mouthed kiss on your swollen pussy lips. His tongue darts out to taste you, his lips parting yours with one swift motion. He starts by licking you labia before sucking on your clit gently, groaning in approval at the taste of you. "So sweet.. just for me."
"Oh my fucking god," You says breathless, your back arching just at the gentle touch of his lips against your cunt, it's incredibly good to feel.
Chuckling again, Jisung complies. He slides his hands up to your hips, holding you in place as he slowly pushes his tongue into your tight entrance. He groans as he feels how wet you are, his eyes nearly rolling back in pleasure. "Fuck.. you taste amazing - want more, give me more."
He breath heavily against your skin as he continues to pleasure you. He adds a finger to her tight pussy, stretching her slowly while sucking on her clit. "You like that?”
Every single movement gives you a wave of pleasure that makes you moan so loud that his brother down the hall probably heard you. You moves your hips against his face, needy for more of his wet and warm licks, “o-oh fuck i love it! m-more!”
Jisung groans as he takes in you desperate cries. He pushes your boundaries further, adding another finger in your tight slit. His tongue works overtime on your sensitive spots, driving you wild. He has no intention of stopping until she begs for his cock. “imma gonna make you cum so hard.”
He can feel you, feel your excitement growing. He moves his fingers faster inside of her, hitting your g-spot, rubbing his fingers against it to let her reach the highest pleasure possible while still sucking on your clit. Your juices taste so sweet and he just wants more. “Fuck, your pussy is so wet, you're my good girl aren't you? so good for me.”
Jisung moves from your pussy just to change position, letting you sits on his face, your blush is heavy. He grunts as you rides his face, your pussy juices dripping down onto his tongue. He reaches up to grab your ass cheeks, spreading them apart as he continues to lap at your sensitive spots. “Fuck, you’re such a slut.”
You whine loudly as you try to keep it quiet, your hips are moving faster and faster trying to find the best friction possible. “i can’t wait to fuck you,” his muffled voice makes you clench around his fingers, he roll his eyes for pleasure.
“i want your cock in my mouth first.”
Jisung chuckles darkly, his eyes gleaming with lust. He moves from under you, sitting right in front of your sore but still shaky body. His fingers moves quick on his jeans to unzip them down and to let his hard length free. He grabs you by the hair and pulls your head towards his cock. "You're such a dirty girl," he murmurs before pushing inside your mouth roughly.
You moan deep throating his cock as you look at him, you has tears on the sides of your eyes for the sudden moves and your saliva dropping down your chin. You never had a sensation like this, so filled. so big.
Jisung fucks your mouth roughly, his hips slamming against your face. He reaches down and starts to finger your wet pussy, adding another layer of pleasure to your already overwhelmed senses. "You're going to cum for me, aren't you?"
You nods on his cock, closing your eyes to feel every inch of his dick deep down your throat, you clench lightly around his fingers but you starts to bounce in them desperately.
Jisung pulls out of your mouth and watches as you bounces on his fingers, eyes filled with lust. He slaps your ass hard, "You like this dirty stuff, don't you?” You find yourself squirming under his touch, almost purring like a cat for more attentions.
Feeling your walls clenching around his fingers, Jisung growls low in his throat. He pulls his cock out of your mouth roughly, leaving your gasping for air. "wanna get fucked angel?"
"yes jisung, please."
Jisung chuckles as he spreads your legs wide, positioning himself at your entrance. He teases you by rubbing his tip against her slick folds before pushing inside. "You're so wet for me, just for me right baby? so wet.. just for my cock."
You nods gasping for air, your head moves backward as you moan louder, "f-fuck it's too big," you whine loudly when you clench around him, trying to adjust as quick as possible, his hands goes on your waist to lift you and let you stay on his lap, your faces are so close are you stare in each other's eyes.
Jisung's hands move to grip your hips more firmly, guiding your movements on his cock. He can't get enough of the sight of you bouncing on him, your breasts jiggling with each thrust. He watches you with hooded eyes, drinking in the sight of you writhing on top of him. "you’re taking it so good for me.”
"jisung.. oh j-jisung I wanna cum.."
Jisung tightens his grip on your hips, pushing himself deeper inside you. He groans in pleasure as he feels your walls clenching around him. "Oh fuck, baby. That's it. Keep riding me like that."
“a-ah! ‘m so close!” You says breathing heavily, your eyes half closed as your legs’s muscles are burning for tiredness but you are too desperate for an orgasm to stop. Jisung's thrusts become more forceful, matching her desperation. His hands move to cup her chubby cheeks, slapping them gently in time with their rhythm.
"God you're... you're so big.."
Jisung groans softly, his hips jerking forward as he tries to thrust deeper into you. He pulls away from your neck and kiss you passionately - almost desperately, your tongues dueling. "You make me so fucking hard." He holds onto your throat, pulling you onto his mouth to kiss you again.
"More jisung.. please more.." Jisung smirks, his thrusts becoming even rougher as he grabs you legs and lifts them up, holding them against the wall of your abdomen. He starts to bite down on your neck, his hips bucking wildly. "I love hearing you beg."
Feeling your orgasm, Jisung picks up the pace even more, he reaches down to rub his cockhead against your clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.
Jisung grunts, his hips bucking against you once more. He pulls out of you slowly and watches as a trickle of semen drips down your thigh. He smirks, his eyes fixed on yours. "Is that what you wanted, my pretty?"
Your blush makes him chuckle, nodding lightly as your squeeze your thighs again, breathing heavily and your expression of totally fucked. Tilting your head aside, hearing someone walking down the hall and your panicking expression just makes him more and more amused.
Jisung chuckles softly again as he looks at you still laying there. Then he tries to pull himself together and stand back up, only to moan softly as his legs are a bit shaky after everything that happened. “I know, right? It felt so good to know that someone could be right outside the door and could hear me making you beg like the little slut you are."
You hits playfully his chest as he lay right next to you, your body is incredibly sore, his arms slowly moves around your waist, pulling you against his chest. "Oh shut up."
"make me," he whispers teasingly in your ear, making you chuckle as he massage your hips with his hands, his head rest on your shoulder as you close your eyes, feeling your body slowly resting against the mattress. "are you sore?"
"yeah, I'm not even sure how I am managing to talk."
"get used to it," Jisung murmurs as he buries his face on your shoulder, "I'll do this, again.. and again.. and again." closing his eyes as you feels his breath getting more steady. Your eyes gets even heavier as you feel the warmth of his body curling behind you.
Something is sure though, he never lets the girl that he fucks in his bed after, not even for sleep.
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He had the perfect plan, exactly knows how and when to expose you and your no-more-virginity. He knows what he would say, even what he wanted to say.
So why now, that he's with his friends during the last practice of the week, he feels like a shit to talk about it? the balls are bouncing on the floor of the gym and his mind is just full of thoughts, mostly about you. That afternoon wasn't the only one, after that you guys started to be even closer, hanging out creating excuses with studying, procrastinating homework, a lot of love making sessions. His friends keep provoke him, asking for pictures of you after sex, every single sign of you two together. But he always respected you with this, because it's too much, he starts to like to feel you with him. Letting you sleep with him after, even cuddle and he's not a cuddler, it's just.. he feels and act different with you. It hurts, because he knows that soon or later he needs to talk with you about the challenge and the deal.
"So, did you fuck her?" His friend asked as he jumps for spiking the ball that he just sett in the perfect spot for him, Jisung groan nervously, he doesn't want to talk about it.
He doesn't want to because it felt too good to spill every single part of it, his focus are on the ball and how to serve on the other side of the court, getting ready for the match against y/n's brother. "oh, is someone too into her now?"
Another teammate tease him playfully, the spank on the ball gets louder, every time that it hits the ground jisung feels his blood burning in his veins, "shut up."
"did you fell for her?"
"love at first sight!"
"oh she probably do good blowjobs."
"should I try her now?"
"you took the deal too seriously now?"
Jisung serve the ball, hitting the floor with a loud sound that makes everyone stops whatever they are doing, because that wasn't just a serve. That was almost a punishment serve, "I said shut up, I did it for the deal, for the money. stop talking about it."
The thing that jisung didn't expect it was you, right on the corner of the gym, you were ready to talk to him and tell him how much you liked it, how much you loved slept in to his arms and waking up with him right beside you. How his kisses and his caresses made you feel alive, loved, desired, accepted. The way that the same morning you needed to sneak out from his house because he didn't wanted to let you talk with his father and his brother; "precaution." Yeah, precaution. Now you know, know you know why he didn't wanted it, why he didn't came to you this morning as he did for the last three months, he didn't smiled, he didn't waved. he didn't hugged you, he didn't try to steal a kiss from you. It was.. nothing. Like nothing happened.
The steps of your shoes echos in the hallway, jisung turn at the sound, he was sure that you heard, he knows it was you. His mind gets blurry and he let his volleyball, his team. Right now he doesn't care if he lose the practice, he doesn't care if he needs to train hard to beat your brother, he teased him enough.
You're crying, walking fast and almost not standing in your own feet, it was all a deal; all for money. You stop walking when you feel that your lungs are not functioning anymore, you feel your mind spinning. Your sobs are echoing in the hall as you sits against the cabinets, why he would do that?
Then the reality hits you hard, like a bullet in your chest.
"You."
You hiss when jisung enter in your sight, he stops his walking almost feel shaking, he knows that you're judging him now, "please let me explain-"
"you did it all because of a stupid deal! you did.. you did it to piss off my brother, because.. because you're gonna play against him next month. You.. You used me." The truth starts to pass in front of his eyes, because it's damn true.
"That was before," you can't even let him finish before stepping up from your spot, stomping a little to face him, your eyes are still tearing up and he can stop the urge to wipe your tears away. "before what? before what jisung?"
Your tone it's hard, and he feels like a kid that gets scolded, "before I started to like you." his hand try to reach your cheek but you spank it first. He's shocked by your gesture, it's not in you, is not something that you would do.
Not to him, not to anyone.
People starts to get out the classes, you are still in the middle of the hall as students stops to listen and more to watch the fight, "like me? you.. Han Jisung. like me, now this is another one of your tricks."
"y/n please calm down," his warm voice makes you almost trip in your thoughts, his hands finish on your shoulders and for a second you're back of the night before, when you went over at his place, when he was touching you so firmly for the first time.
"do not tell me to calm down! I don't wanna see you ever again." Jisung's heart almost breaks, people start to whispers and he see only you walking away from him, too distant. He doesn't like it, he doesn't want you distant anymore.
Jisung doesn't stop though, he knows that if he lets you walk out of his life now, you are never gonna be back to him. "angel, let *me* talk, let me explain."
"You had enough power over me."
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You moved.
Moved school, changed your way to be, you decided to cut everything that could remind you him. Jisung was and always be someone that took something to you, something that you wanted to keep safe and always for someone special. He was special, that's for sure, but you knew something like this would happen. So when you changed school to go in your brother's high school, you're not surprised of the amount of popularity that you started to have all of a sudden, because Chan never hide your sibling ship. He never lied to anyone about you. You started to officially be the little sister that he keeps close and tight.
Jisung broke you but you decide to grab the pieces that he left and create a new shape of you, getting out more, making friends and even hang out with boys.
Like now, that you're hand by hand with Hwang Hyunjin, walking inside on a party. Never expected about celebrating after Chan's team won the volleyball game against your old school, but going to an after party? That's wasn't in your plan.
"Com'on don't be so tense," Hyunjin whispers in your ear as he walks behind you, one hand in yours and the other placed on your hip, guiding you though the crowd of people from both of the schools. You don't pay that much attention of the house, but it's okay. You're there to have fun, just that. "I'm not tense!"
"Y/n, babe, I can see your shoulders moving up every single time you talk, don't close yourself I'll be with you the whole time."
"all the time?" you murmurs trying to search for a confirm, your eyes lands on his and his smile makes you feel less anxious. You don't want anyone see you like this, specially from Jisung's team, you're freezing scared just to think about them. To see his eyes again on you. "Let me get you a drink."
"She doesn't drink." His voice reach you fast, but the grab on your wrist it's tight enough to make you turn to his direction, seeing his mad face toward your best friend.
"Are you sure?" Hyunjin bark back, almost ready to pick up a fight with him just to defend you, your eyes run from one guy to the other, stepping back and clearing your throat enough to make both of them turn in your direction. "I don't need someone to talk for me, and I don't need someone to tell me what to do, I'm fine like this." They both back off from each other, walking in different directions.
You follow your friend, and as soon as you guys step inside the kitchen he burst into laugh, his hand over his mouth, "Oh my god! he was so mad!"
"you guys won today right?" You scoff chuckling and getting yourself a sip of water from the fridge, his eyes on you as he nods, your eyes travel down his chest lightly seeing the little open of his shirt. Some buttons are undone and that makes your cheeks grow red, "where are you staring angel?"
You take a longer sip that you expect as you shrug your shoulders, moving down the dress on your thighs with a shy behavior, it's clear that you're not usual to wear dresses, they are not exactly your type of dress code - in any way. The nickname that he gives to you makes a run of chills down your spine, sighing lightly, "nothing.. your.. your shirt. it's unbuttoned." He nods as he glance down his own black shirt, he chuckle lightly, "why don't you do it for me? I'm too lazy."
You roll your eyes as you leave the glass of water in the already full sink of glasses and plates, walking close to him enough for do this favor to him, "come closer, I don't bite." The tension between you two is building up quicker than you expect but his hands that travel from your waist to your hips, pushes you against his chest, your eyes are on his and you're that close to feel his breath against your face. His eyes are slowly closing, leaning for a kiss that you're to exactly refusing.
His eyes were cold on you. "y/n, with me." His voice kills the mood of the room, making you jump lightly backward with your cheeks red like cherries, "man, she can choose." his grip on your waist get tighter, you know he's not gonna let you go, but your instinct it's running away from both of them. Your eyes are on Jisung, his presence it's charming as usual.
"Not with you holding her that tight, let her go, she needs to talk to me." Hyunjin let you go with a grunt, he's not happy about it but you walk quietly toward jisung, his body shift and he turn towards the stairs. You follow him silently as your hand it's intertwine with yours, his touch it's still delicate with you. He lead the way to a specific room and then you recognize everything, every single second of it. His house.
You're back in Jisung's house.
"sorry I, I don't have that much time I'm with my brother and his friends so-"
"why did you left?" His voice it's not hard on you, it's almost hurt, if this topic it's hurting you more than you could expect, his head is down and you can totally smell the alcohol that leave his body, making you step forward to see if he needs some help with anything, anything. "needed to."
Jisung chuckle under breath, turning and facing you, he's close to tears as he moves one hand over his cheek bushing lightly his fingers over his chubby skin, "needed to? y/n, I feel.. I feel like breaking down every second that you're not near me, I cannot breath because you left. I wanted to run, run after you. Maybe chasing you is not the best idea but I.. I wanted you to stay. Please can.. can I touch you?"
His voice is a whisper the whole time, making your legs shakes, almost melting for his sweet talks - but you're too hurt for that. "You broke me, you took something from me, don't be the victim here." Your voice it's steady but inside you your heart is shaking as much as his hands are.
"I wanna touch you wherever he touched you just to prove you that I'm better," Jisung steps closer, his hands grabs gently your waist and his touch it's 100% better than Hyunjin's, you cannot lie. You're melting under his fingertips, he's massaging your hips so lightly that makes your breath die in your throat. "Jisung we can't."
He mumble something, but his mind it's too blurry for elaborate, he lean on your shoulder as he's eyes slowly close, he takes a deep breath of your sent. "if you.. just let me.. need you so badly baby."
Jisung's lips trace his face long the nape of your neck, his hands slowly moves on your ass grabbing your cheeks in a gentle squeeze, your hands goes between his hair as you start to breath heavily, "ji we are your party."
"Simon says, let me take the dress off." His whispers makes you shivers long your spine, biting lightly your bottom lip as you let his hands grab the hem of the dress, lifting it up easily in one smooth movement - he saw you naked before but his eyes on you always make you blush like a kid. "Simon says take off your pants."
Jisung's eyes light up when he see that you are okay with that, and his hands gets busy unzipping his pants and moving down enough to let your hard length free, "com'here angel."
His hands grabs the back of your thighs, lifting you up from the floor and pushing you against the wall, you kiss him with pure passion and needs, his cockhead rubbing against the fabric of your panties.
"please fuck me Jisung," you mumble as his hand reach your panties, pulling them aside enough for him to penetrate you without a warning. Your breath catch your throat as you moan in silent, covering your mouth and laying your back against the wall, his hands grabs your thighs tightly as he moan deeply with his face buries against your neck, "fuck, so tight, thank you.. thank you baby.."
You moan shakily and his thrusts gets even more desperate, pounding in you roughly and fast, he groans and starts to pound into you, his hips slapping against yours. He holds onto you legs tightly, not wanting to lose contact with this feeling. His mouth finds yours again in a fierce kiss, his tongue invading you mouth as he takes what he wants. His pace quickens, his thrusts harder and deeper. Jisung's eyes are full of lust and desire for you.
"I love you."
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𐙚 tag list: @lyramundana
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why-are-you-still-awake · 6 months ago
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Naruto boys with a partner with anxiety
A/n: two posts in less than 24 hours!?
characters: Naruto, Sasuke, Gaara
Warning/content: mentions of panic attacks, mentions of contamination OCD.
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Naruto Uzumaki
☆ Naruto would definitely be more cautious with his partner because he wouldn’t want to upset them or cause them to overthink things he’s done or said, most things he does have no rhyme or reason. However if you start overthinking something he said he’ll happily explain it and give you all the reassurance you need. ☆
☆ He doesn’t want to put you in a situation that would make your anxiety worse, for example if you don’t like public or crowded places, he’d go out of his way to make sure no one touches you or gets too close and if you need some space to calm down he’d take you to a less busy area. ☆
☆ The first time he saw you have a panic attack, he kinda panicked himself and was unsure of what to do. He’s had panic attacks himself but you’re not him, so he just awkwardly kneeled down to your level and gently rubbed your back, helping you take deep breaths. He always wants you to be comfortable and feel safe with him. ☆
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Sasuke Uchiha
☆ You never liked germs, the thought of getting sick made your skin crawl, you’d always been told it really wasn’t that serious but to you it was. You had to always wash your hands before touching anything and wash them after, there have been times when you scrubbed your hands red. It was more than just the hand washing though, it was having to immediately change if someone touched your clothes. ☆
☆ Sasuke never really noticed your obsessive behavior until you moved in together, he noticed how you religiously washed your hands and cleaned everything single thing you touched, at first he thought you were just a clean freak until he saw how red your hands would be after every time you washed them. He didn’t want to bring it up but he finally decided enough was enough when your hands bled from the extreme washing. ☆
☆ There have definitely been times when you weren’t able to wash your hands and it made you panic, you were rubbing your hands together to try and get the same feeling you get from washing your hands but it wasn’t enough. You practically curled in on yourself trying to stay calm but it was no use, Sasuke noticed your behavior and carefully placed his hand on your back, not wanting to trigger you further. He opened his backpack and had hand sanitizer and gave you some, he’d started carrying it just in case something like this ever happened. Not that he’d ever admit it. ☆
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Gaara
☆ He truly tries his best to avoid putting you in situations that’ll cause you to be anxious or cause a panic attack but sometimes it just doesn’t work out that way, as the kazekage he has to attend a lot of meetings that have lots of people in attendance as well so it’s often overcrowded and overstimulating. You know these type of events make you anxious but you decide to grin and bear it for your boyfriends sake. ☆
☆ When you inevitably get overwhelmed at these type of things he keeps you close to him because come hell or high water he won’t leave you alone if you start feeling like that. He’d do the small things like keeping a firm grip on your hand to make you feel safer and more secure or placing his hand on the small of your back so you don’t get separated. ☆
☆ He’s seen you have panic attacks before and it makes his heart ache every time, he doesn’t want you to feel alone during times like this but sometimes he understands that’s just what you need, time to decompress and calm down yourself. Even if it hurts to step away for a few moments he’ll do whatever he needs to help even if he’s not directly involved.☆
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A/n: i hate these sm, I might just delete it later but I hope you enjoyed them. I have OCD myself but not contamination OCD specifically, so tell me if it’s not portrayed correctly. Thank you for reading, love u <33
Do not repost
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rainstormwrite · 5 months ago
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The new update is now public.
Hello again, people!
That's it. This is the day.
The new update is now public.
(You're required to start a new playthrough if you don't want any game-breaking bugs, by the way.)
What's done:
All three routes are finished.
All the POVs are rewritten to be in the third person (they actually feel way better than I thought they would be).
Some parts of the first fight scene are fixed and clarified.
Some pronoun bugs are fixed.
What's planned:
Writing another update, obviously.
Word count:
Including command lines: 271245 Excluding command lines: 260837
But, I would ask you to temper your expectations in terms of the new content's single playthrough length. I'm going to paraphrase this from my previous post: the actual amount of content that was added with this new update is somewhere between 15 to 25 pages (approximately).
Even though the word count increased from 53k to 260k, the only event to happen in this update is one conversation/confrontation (ridiculous, I know). This is primarily due to the overwhelming amount of variable text that changes depending on your earlier choices and due to the number of routes you can take. If you're interested in the reasons for me to decide to do that, check out my previous post.
So, basically, each reader will experience the new content very differently but may not get as much satisfaction due to its shortness. If that is the case, I can only suggest you make another playthrough with different choices, but, if that's not your cup of tea, I would totally understand. But, overall, the game is very… how do I put it..? Multiple-playthroughs-friendly, I'd say.
Safe to say, the update will be incredibly polarizing, no doubt, but I'm always open to feedback.
And, even though I haven't found any bugs or inconsistencies, I am obviously aware that someone else may find them, so, if you are that someone, please report the bugs to me.
I think that's all regarding the update itself, so go ahead and play it. Hope you will like it!
PLAY THE UPDATE
Now, onto other interesting things…
From this point onward, I'm starting to take writing seriously, and that's why I've finally decided to open my Patreon page.
I've made a free introductory post there that explains what I'll be offering, but, right off the bat, I want to tell you that I can't offer you things that other creators are usually offering: Q&As and What-if scenarios. If we're talking about Q&As, I don't want to do them because I consider mystery to be a big part of my work, so I don't really want to wiggle around every question that people will ask me because it won't be fair to them and won't feel good to me. As for What-if scenarios, I don't want to write out some hypothetical scenarios when I can spend that time to progress the plot forward in the actual story. And, trust me, if I'm going to spread my attention too thin, I'm never going to finish this project… And I don't think you and I want that.
What I will provide, however, are progress updates, sneak peeks, early access, and monthly side stories, which the community will be able to choose by voting.
So, I'd advise you to read through the new update first, decide whether you're willing to put up with my approach to the content, and then consider subscribing if what I offer on Patreon is enough for you. If, after all that, you decide to become a member, I'll be very grateful to you. If not, I will still appreciate you being interested in my work and taking the time to read through it.
Thanks for tuning in, and have a pleasant day or a peaceful night!
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purple-obsidian · 8 months ago
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beautiful mind (18+, j'onn j'onzz x fem human reader)
⭓ warming up to write some alien sex, lemme know who wants to see part 2 👽
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“J’onn… why did you change?” You ask, tilting your head a little as you watch him exit your bathroom. You have been seeing the Martian for a few weeks now, going on dates and spending time together, and tonight you finally invited him back to your place, for what you’re hoping to be a romantic evening.
It started off great, you and him lounging on your couch and talking about your week. But halfway through the bottle of wine you were sharing, he excused himself to use your restroom, and now you’re sad to see that he is no longer his normal green self, but the human version of himself that he shifts into when you two are in public together.
“My apologies,” he begins, his deep voice tinged with embarrassment, “from what I have learned of human dating expectations, I assumed your invitation back to your place insinuated the possibility of engaging in physical intimacy. I… wanted to be prepared. Please forgive me if I was bold to assume as much.”
You smile, and shake your head softly. “No, you read the situation correctly. I guess…” You blush a little, and rub your hand up and down your arm nervously, trying to get the goose bumps to go away, “I guess I was looking forward to seeing more of the real you.”
J’onn ponders your words for a moment. He wasn’t expecting this. He’s been with a couple human women before, but he never felt like they would be comfortable with him as he really is. They never asked.
“The real me.” He repeats back thoughtfully.
“Yes.” You stand up from the couch you two were sitting on and walk towards him as you explain. “I think you’re quite handsome either way, but I want you to be yourself around me. I really like you, J’onn. And I want to get to know more about you, especially about what makes you different.”
The Martian smiles down at you warmly. “If that’s the case… then I have a confession to make.”
“I’m all ears.” You reach for his hand and hold it in your own, encouraging him.
J'onn reaches his other hand out to caress your cheek gently, almost reverent in how he handles you.
“They way you’ve seen me… the way the rest of the league sees me, it isn’t actually my true Martian form.”
You raise your eyebrow in confusion. “No?”
“No. This…” you watch in awe as his human body morphs back into his familiar green features. "This, is a more humanoid version of my Martian self. When I first came to earth, I wanted to appear less frightening to humans, and opted to present myself this way."
Your mind is racing, curiosity getting the better of you. You're already enamored by him, you have been for a while now. But knowing you haven't even seen the real him yet makes your heart beat faster in anticipation. His deep red eyes look down at you with affection as he sees how excited you're getting.
"I… I want to see. Please? If you're comfortable, that is." You release his hand and bridge the gap between you, embracing the tall, green alien gently.
He accepts your embrace readily. "I haven't shared my true form with many people here on earth. I must warn you, it can be quite… jarring."
But even as he says this, you see him grin down at you, and feel his strong hands run through your hair. He knows you well enough by now that he's confident you won't be scared of him. Its one of the things he admires most about you, how accepting and open-minded you are, approaching the unknown with curiosity rather than fear.
It makes him feel safe with you.
"Maybe I'm in the mood to be jarred." You suggest with a sly smile. You lean up to place a kiss on his cheek, and wrap your arms around his neck as his hands shift down, resting on your waist. “I hope you know you can trust me."
Feeling you murmur into his neck and hold him so tenderly is affecting him. He wants to show you, to bare himself to you fully and see your reaction. He doesn't really think you'll respond negatively, but there's still something nagging at him, which gives him pause.
"I am willing to show you. But perhaps… not tonight. I don't want to ruin the mood."
You frown, and pull away just enough that you can look up at him again. "Ruin the mood? I don't understand."
"Allow me to explain. Martians don't engage in physical intimacy the same way humans do. I was hoping tonight would be about us getting closer, in a way that's comfortable for you. I don't want to distract from that. My Martian form doesn't have any reproductive organs that resemble what you're used to." He explains in his deep, calming voice that you've become extremely fond of as of late.
"J'onn, you're killing me." You groan, chuckling and leaning your head on his chest. He smells amazing, thanks to the cologne Clark recommended to him. As another alien who’s dated human women, J'onn has been consulting with his friend regularly for advice, most of which has helped his confidence tremendously in your budding relationship. "I don't know how else to say it. I want to know. I want to know it all. You know so much about humans and our way of life, but I want to know more about you. Who says our first time has to be what I'm most familiar with? I'm comfortable with you. As long as we go slow, I'm sure I'll enjoy myself."
J'onn smiles even wider at you response and holds you close to his chest, his hand still tangled in your hair. He's picturing it in his mind now, being with you and showing you how sex with a Martian can be, quite literally, mind-blowing. He would be lying if he said the idea didn't arouse him.
"Martians are a highly psychic people. Intimacy is rarely ever just a physical engagement, but the melding of two minds as well. Is that something you're comfortable with?" He asks. You can pick up the slight nervousness in his voice.
"Melding of minds?" You repeat back. "So in order for us to…be together, in that way, you'll have to read my mind?"
This does give you pause, your mind isn't exactly the most happy place. It is when you're with J'onn, but opening yourself up in such a way sounds intimidating. You're worried that he won't like what he sees. Every secret and embarrassing moment, does that mean he will know it all?
"Our minds will be connected. I will not intentionally pry into anything private, but yes. It involves being engaged together in the present moment. It allows for open communication to ensure both of our experiences are pleasurable, and so we can avoid any discomfort, if either of us wishes to stop."
The apprehension and anxiety you feel is overshadowed by your curiosity and growing arousal. They way he's holding you against him, gently massaging the back of your neck and explaining all this to you, it makes your heart beat faster and your stomach get a weird, fluttery feeling.
J'onn has always come across as very reserved and proper. Much to your delight, you've gotten to see a different side of him since he asked you out, and the more you get to see of his true personality, the more you adore him. How could you pass up the opportunity to take a peek into his beautiful mind?
Trying not to appear too eager, you lean up to place a few soft, warm kisses below his ear. "I want to try. I want to learn how to make you feel good. And I want to see the real you. Please?"
You asking so politely is endearing to him. His own pulse quickens as he thinks about how to make this work, with you not being a shapeshifter or psychic. He will have to do a lot of the work, at least the first time as you get used to him. But J'onn doesn't mind that one bit. He hopes this is the first time of many.
"Since you said please." He teases, releasing you from his embrace and staring down into your eyes. You gaze back up at him lovingly, but your eyes leave his when you notice his form shift once again. He grows a few inches taller, and his features contort and twist until his head is no longer rounded like a human skull, but elongated with ridges and small horns. His dark red eyes grow larger, and the muscles in his abdomen morph and change, causing his body shape to be slightly more… alien. There's no other word for him. Its different. He's unlike any creature you've ever seen.
But there's still an elegance about him. You don't find it unnerving or scary, but mesmerizing. Before you can stop yourself, you reach out to graze your fingertips over the green skin of his chest, marveling at how smooth and firm it feels. You trace the ridges and muscles, exploring him with your hands and familiarizing yourself with his true form.
"Is it safe to assume, you don't find my body off-putting?" He asks you with a chuckle. He can see the fascination in your eyes, but he wants to hear you say it.
"You're beautiful." You blurt out, now caressing him with both hands, slowly trailing them higher until you're reaching up to touch the small, blunt horns along his head. "Were all Martians as handsome as you? Or were they each different, like humans?"
Your flattery leaves him beaming, albeit slightly embarrassed. He places his hand over your own, holding it more firmly to the side of his face. "Like humans, a Martian's true form may vary in size and appearance. But on Ma'aleca'andra, we focused more on ones inner self, valuing beauty of thought over physical appearance."
"Please, show me." You ask in a low, almost desperate tone. You want to see his beautiful mind. You want to know all of him, and J'onn is happy to oblige, picking you up gently and taking you to your bedroom.
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⭓ part 2 is out now, click here to read.
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am-i-the-asshole-official · 11 months ago
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AITA for not buying something for a friend on card when they only have cash? (profanity warning up ahead lol) 🦈🦈🦈
A few months ago myself and some of my friends (fake names: Lucy F, Mark M, Kai NB, Jenny F, Charlie NB) decided to go see a movie at the local cinema (we chose it because it's the cheapest in the area). For a very long time, this place only accepted cash unless you booked tickets in advance but after COVID now operates exclusively on contactless payments — no exceptions. Whenever we got there everybody had already booked tickets so we went right into the theatre to get good seats (tickets don't have specific seats at this cinema; it's first come, first served). Once we got our seats of choice, we decided to go to the cinema shop for food in pairs so that nobody would take out spot and after Mark and Kai went, Lucy and I went.
I went first and paid for a medium popcorn and a small box of Maltesers but when it was Lucy's turn she only had cash, therefore could not pay, which made her get snappy at the worker there who obviously couldn't do anything about it. Lucy then asked me if I could pay on card and she could repay me with cash (which is a reasonable request but shit goes sideways after this) so I checked my balance to see if I could. Turns out I only had twenty cents left on my card.
Side note: we're all teenagers and Lucy, Mark, Charlie and I don't have jobs because at the time we were still considered to young to be hired in my area unless we wanted to get paid severely below the minimum wage (McDonald's, I see you). My money consists solely of birthday money that I can spend on buying gifts for myself and others, and going out with my friends. I budget myself strictly because I don't have a steady source of income and keep my unspent money in my savings dedicated towards university. My parents won't start a uni fund for me until I get my first job (which I personally think is fairly reasonable so that I can work for my education) Also I've been saving money in my budget to see this movie for a while since I was excited about it's release (FNAF lol).
Anyway, I tell Lucy I only have 20c and I'm sorry, but she snatches my phone without asking to look at my bank details to see $400 in savings (I know it's not enough for uni but please bare with me /lh). I naturally freaked out in my head and take it back from her, worried that she was going to try buy food anyway, read my bank account details or take money out of my literal uni fund. When I quickly explained it was my only fund for university and I didn't feel comfortable whittling it down (we're in public and there's a line of three people behind Lucy) she gets mad and properly yells that I'm being a "selfish bitch" and only thinking about myself, and that I should just pay for her anyway so she can give me the cash (I would have nowhere safe to keep it in my house as my sister takes any physical money and lies about it, which she has done to me before). I offer to go back to the group and take someone else down like Jenny or Kai who can make the trade or that she can share my food (she likes popcorn and Maltesers) but she again called me a "bitch" at the top of her lungs in a public space with people behind her and families with young children nearby, and stormed back to the theatre, leaving me to apologise to the workers and members of the public.
We go back to the theatre and I again offer for her to share my food and ask if any of my friends could do the trade but she once more announced I was a "selfish, stupid bitch" quote unquote and that it didn't matter anymore anyways. She proceeded to sulk the rest of the movie and later when we walked around the area just for fun.
Later when we all went home, it turned out Lucy, immediately after I got on my bus, made a group chat with everybody but me to talk shit about me. I found out about this because I was on the bus home with Mark (we're practically neighbours) and he showed me the messages right away. She had completely changed the story to make her a hapless victim that I, the unfeeling antagonist, publicly shamed even though after the movie I apologised to her again (I genuinely felt like shit after all of it) and explained the situation to my curious friends (Lucy agreed with what I said then — except I kept out the "bitch" stuff — but rewrote the whole story in their group chat).
At school she started avoiding myself, Mark, Charlie, and other friends who didn't go see the FNAF movie with us because apparently they were all on "my side" (I didn't realise that this whole thing was a big deal or that there were definitive sides people had to choose). Kai and Jenny (who were sticking with Lucy but still talking to the rest of us) came up to me separately and told me that Lucy was "hurt by my actions" and just because I didn't like her, didn't give me the right to "take that experience away". I asked why they thought I didn't like her and that's how I found out she had been talking shit about me for months behind my back (and others like Mark and people who didn't go see the movie), which did upset me because I still considered Lucy a friend despite all this.
Kai and Jenny told me to apologise. Mark and Charlie told me not to. I haven't yet and it's been over a month now. Lucy, Kai and Jenny still hang out with us but Lucy still shit-talks myself and others and will consistently bring up that I didn't pay for her despite the fact that it was ages ago now and I really didn't think it was that deep.
Do you guys think I'm the asshole for not draining my uni funds to get my friend a popcorn and Maltesers, and then not apologising when she tried to turn our friends against me over it?
What are these acronyms?
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jooniperbonsai · 10 months ago
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Thanks For the Sub (ksj) | Chapter Two
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Pairing: Camboy!Seokjin x Gamer!Reader (afab)
Rating: 18+
Word Count: 13.7k
Release date: Mon. February 5, 2024
Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, camboy au, gamer au, comedy, crack, slow burn (?), coworkers/boss/friends to lovers, an exploration of adults in their late 20s/early 30s
Summary: Now aware of Seokjin's secret, you try to take some of his...techniques into your next stream. But how well will they pay off?
Chapter Warnings: anxiety, discussion of boundaries and triggers, Seokjin explains what bdsm is supposed to mean to us watching at home, internet/cyberbullying dynamics, boss/employee power struggles, discussions of consent, peer pressure, mention of threesome, implied chubby/fat reader (it's vague enough to not adopt a specific size), mention of sex toys, swearing, sexual fantasies, m masturbation, damn Seokjin has a boner so many times in this sorry, size kink, y/n assumes Seokjin's sexuality, porn simulation games, 1 (one) reference to Vine (RIP), Dom Seokjin, kink negotiation, mention of choking and improper bdsm practices, mention of urethral sounding (but not actually happening)
a/n: Ahh hello! First of all, thank you to everyone who has read TFTS so far! It really warms my heart knowing how well received it's been, and your comments and messaged have meant so much. I really wanted to emphasize discussions of consent and boundaries in this chapter. I was struggling to write for a little bit, and then suddenly I saw this one gif of Jin on my feed and my brain jimmy neutron brain blasted my way to a 13k length chapter. Hopefully I've proofread well enough, but if you spot some serious errors please let me know. -h
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On Saturday afternoon, Seokjin woke up for the first time in what felt like forever feeling rested. After checking the weather app on his phone constantly throughout the night, he received the alert that heavy snowfall was causing delays in plowing and public transit. He messaged the opening crew, encouraging them to also enjoy the lie-in and prepare for a delayed open. Instead of falling into the semi-sickening lovefest of couples peeling each other’s perilla leaves or trying to feed each other lunch, he could be spared until the evening. 
Which was good, because Seokjin was exhausted. His live last night was not planned, but after closing and apologizing to you about his gross mismanagement of power, he needed to get out the pent-up frustration that crumbled the bones in his body from pressure. 
Sure, it was the right thing to do to apologize, even though he knew he would never be able to look at that prep counter, your wide, glassy eyes, and swollen lips the same way again. But it was important to him. He could never become the kind of man he watched his boss be to him or his wife, forcing his way past someone’s boundaries to get what they wanted. 
Even years later, Seokjin was convinced that had he not shared information about Soon Yi that intrigued his boss, if he’d maybe kept his personal and professional lives separate, things maybe would have been different. And now that he was in the position of power where he was someone else’s boss, wasn’t it his duty to make sure that didn’t happen to you too?
Seokjin almost lost all his control with you yesterday. From the moment you came in with a tired, croaky voice that greeted him “hi” before the sun had even come up, he knew he would be struggling for the rest of the day. 
During multiple points of your training, he had the urge to touch you, which was nearly impossible not to do, since so much of the guidance you needed came from hand-over-hand instruction as he showed you the fluid motions of safe chopping. When his large hands covered yours, Seokjin became aware of how tiny you were to him. Maybe not in all the places, but your height, your smaller hands, they showed him how easily and perfectly you slotted into his body, like a puzzle piece he didn’t know he could ever feel matched to. 
Maybe Seokjin executed this desire to touch you a little too dramatically. When he saw your misplaced cutting knife, he let that excuse lead him head-first into white hot desire, scolding you, watching you squirm a little as you felt embarrassed for losing focus. And that seemed to unlock some feral need in him, to get you to squirm a little more, to touch you and feel the velveteen softness of your forearms as he pinned you against the prep table. 
The little gasp you’d let out sent the blood straight to his cock, and to avoid you seeing how easy and embarrassingly you could undo him–how quickly one singular sound from you would make Seokjin rock hard and panting and under your complete power–he reacted, clasped your wrists, used some set of excuses to get closer, let his arm skim across your cheek to grab a packet of whatever the hell was above you. And the way you didn’t resist, didn’t pull away from his grasp showed him how good you could be, how obedient you were as you turned around when told. 
He should’ve stopped there, but you were standing in front of him, smelling a little bit like coffee and a fruity shampoo you used, your bodies only mere inches from full on contact. And Seokjin wanted more of a reason to hold onto you, to see what ways he could rile you up, whether you were cognizant or not of how, well, submissive you were to him. 
Most of his income from streams came from scenarios where Seokjin played into a softer role, which translated into the role of a submissive pretty boy, and usually a bottom. But for the first time in years, a rich, satisfying wave of dominance rolled back into his body and he welcomed it.
Seokjin knew better, but he couldn’t help himself. The one bit of control he maintained was in his refusal to let go of your hands, even after you had mastered the motions of your knife, possibly even better than Seokjin himself could chop. Because if Seokjin declawed himself from you, his hands would absolutely wander. Up the sleeve of your exposed forearms and down the swell of your breasts and full hips. 
His cock ached thinking about how plush and soft your body would be under his hands, how he wouldn’t have to worry about breaking you. He could safely grope your sides and not feel like he would pinch your bones together, and that was important, because Seokjin liked to be rough.
When that carrot fell, you couldn’t shake Seokjin’s desperate hands off yours and you carried him with you as you curved your body toward the floor to pick up your mess. Seokjin was blessed and cursed with the brief moment he got to touch more of you than he ever had as your ass rocked back and ground gently into him. 
He’d moaned, though he tried to disguise it as a grunt or scoff, but the way your delicious ass attracted him right in between the line of your cheeks practically begged him to rut against you. 
Your reaction of shock, though, halted him as he remembered you two were in the kitchen of his family’s restaurant. He scrambled to cover his dick before it became even more obvious and humiliating. 
And then you fell, because Seokjin was an idiot and forgot he had been holding onto you. 
The sound of your head crashing into the metal ricocheted through his ears, and your pained moan sent him spiraling in panic. He didn’t think. Seokjin wasn’t the best at remaining calm during potential medical emergencies, instead of electing to assess your wellbeing and check-in with you, he just reacted, plucking you off the floor and onto the counter.
You can’t manage a restaurant without carrying heavy sacks of rice or flour, cartons of vegetables or gallons of oils and liquids into the space. That, plus the fact that Seokjin did go to the gym to keep his figure, ensured that when he had to pull you up from the floor, he could do so with ease. Which thanks to his awful, overly enthusiastic libido, was really locking in some potential size kink. If Seokjin could hoist you onto the cold prep counter without breaking a sweat, it meant he could also hoist you onto other things, like his cock. Could bounce you up and down and see how those delicious, large tits would follow his pace.
Fuck. 
This was when Seokjin realized even though he was deeply, deeply interested in these fantasies, his reality was different. Because too easily he had dipped into some innate submissive part of you and decided to play with it and tease you for it. Too easily, he has erased any boundary between professional and personal, and now you are walking around with a giant bruise on your forehead. He used his power to manipulate you, didn’t he? While the tiniest part of him argued back, suggesting it was purely mutual attraction and biology, that he shouldn’t apologize because he swore he saw something in your eyes that almost guaranteed you wanted him too, this is why Seokjin had to apologize. The “almost” of it all. He wasn’t sure, which meant the uncertainty was a risk and just because he wanted something to be true didn’t mean it was. 
By the end of the day, the intense proximity to you and the memory of your lips parting to suck his tongue into your mouth had become too much. Seokjin turned on an impromptu stream to wallow in his self pity and direct that dominant energy into something that was far less harmful and at least lucrative. 
Now, as the winter’s dull afternoon light glowed through the city, Seokjin checked his phone, seeing that the evening crew leader had arrived and informed him that everything was covered and they wouldn’t need the extra help. 
With that update, Seokjin’s entire evening just became available, which was a rare thing for him since he moved up in his job role. But because of this, he was unsure what to do to pass the time. He cooked himself dinner, cleaned, and organized the jars in his refrigerator, needing to keep his hands busy to distract himself from thinking about you. 
His apartment looking immaculate and there no longer being anything else to clean, he finally fired up his computer to play games. Maybe this would serve as a proper distraction. His new PC was set to come early next week after being delayed by the snow. Despite Seokjin’s financial success since his start as a streamer, money to him was still something he wasn’t sure what to do with. 
After Worldwide Handsome took their cut from last night’s fifteen grand in earnings, he would be walking away with about ten thousand dollars. He would, albeit quietly, pour around seven thousand of those dollars into the restaurant, where the mom-and-pop feel of the small shop was starting to show its age.
Last week, he’d called a repairman to give him a quote about fixing a broken coil on one of the griddles. After a quick inspection, he was informed most of the unit was corroding, and it was time to seriously consider a replacement. Between that, the new register he ordered, and the walk-in freezer that was coughing its last breath, probably as we speak, Seokjin spent nearly forty grand in the last month with repairs and replacements to keep the shop running another day. 
His parents had insisted they’d pay for the expenses, but after the first few discoveries he’d made of the DIY wiring his father had tried in earnest to configure, Seokjin stopped alerting them to the updates he was making, hoping that distance, age, and some fairly similar looking appliances would allow for these changes to go undetected when they returned. He had seen what this place made. He’d seen his paycheck. There was no way in hell his father could afford an $18 to 25,000 walk-in freezer on their operating budget. 
Overall, Seokjin made plenty of money with streaming, but beyond some investments and his nice apartment, as well as a savings account to ensure he wasn’t completely destitute, he lived much below his means. When he hit goals during his streaming, it did really feel like he was winning big. To buy himself a new PC was something he knew he worked for.  
Just as he was browsing the new skins in the game store, he heard the familiar chime and his heartrate picked up. 
You were live. 
He hesitated. “No,” he said out loud to himself, his voice croaking after hours of not speaking. “Don’t even think about it.” 
He knew if he looked at you right now, all the distractions, the cleaning, the dedication to keeping himself busy, would be for nothing. It would be painful to look at you–probably all cozy with your hair pulled messily away from your face, your glasses hanging off your nose instead of your usual contacts–and not think about how merely hours ago he had your heat rubbed up against him. 
If he really wanted to torture himself, he would also think about how the casual, disheveled look you sported could have been something he woke up to this morning if he’d tried a little harder, the loose t-shirt you probably wore rising up while you slept next to him, exposing the soft tummy he knew hid under it. Maybe even one of your nipples would slip out, hard from the chill of the cold winter air bleeding into his apartment. 
But Seokjin wouldn’t torture himself. He knew better. When he exited his game, he definitely didn’t launch his web browser and go to your channel that was on his Favorites tab. And he definitely didn’t cup himself through his sweats as he watched you appear before him. 
If the idea of you in casual wear could make him this hard, the view of you now, as you sat on stream with a tight, low-cut top that showed the curve of your breasts and their delicious, lickable valley between them, could easily turn every part of him into stone. You did your makeup today. Let your hair delicately frame your face. You looked like you were logging on to lure your viewers to come to you like a siren. Seokjin wanted you to devour him. 
His cock twitched and he groaned. He was such a pervert. But whoever this Y/N was, she looked like she was ready to play some games, and not the kind that Seokjin was used to seeing on stream. 
“Well, hello,” you purred. Was this really happening? Who the fuck had possessed the wide-eyed, awkward gamer he was used to watching?
“I thought, given that it’s so close to Valentine's Day, and because I missed the stream last night, I would make it up to you.” 
Seokjin froze. How had he not known you were supposed to stream yesterday? He would’ve never let you stay so late. He shot you an apologetic text,and when he looked up from his phone, he saw some of the comments flooding into your feed:
Mingisaysrelax: Um…am I on the right website? 😏💦
MountainSan88:😳 
PizzaBoy97: You look really pretty 😍
MizzVyne: Is this allowed? IS THIS ALLOWED?
Seokjin watched as your chat exploded in response to your new look, clips being taken by the hundreds when you leaned down to adjust your seat and the tops of your breasts jiggled. Your mods seemed to be on top of things though, because as soon as he saw raunchy or hateful comments, they were swiftly being taken down. 
“I’m not going to read my comment section right now, but I assume you’re all a little shocked by my appearance. I don’t know, I was feeling a bit inspired by another streamer I watched last night when I got home from work. He had some really good ideas on um…stuff, and no I’m not going to share who he is because some of you will absolutely cyber bully him for being associated with me and he deserves better than that.” 
He. A pang of bitterness surged through Seokjin. It was laughable, really, how he was jealous because you were watching other male streamers when you got home from work, completely oblivious to how on another site he was jerking his aching cock to his viewers thanks to how worked up you made him. 
“But yeah, I’m going to switch up the stream in the second half, if you want to stick around and see.”
This really piqued his interest, pressing his palm down onto his erection to try and relieve some of the pressure. 
You frowned at your screen as you launched your game, some first person shooter that would hold your attention so you wouldn’t have to talk.
You opened your mouth to add something, but you were immediately dropped into your game, setting your jaw as you focused on the controls in front of you, occasionally panicking, key smashing so loud that it drowned out your squeals when you were knocked over and over again and needed a revive. 
Seokjin assumed whatever teammate who kept reviving you must’ve been a subscriber who was stream sniping…or reverse stream sniping? Stream assisting and reviving as you struggled your way through the game. 
Something really stuck with him as you played. Whoever this “mentor” was must have been well versed in the knowledge that on any streaming platform, sex sells, especially for women. Your new look was drawing in quite the crowd. He wasn’t sure he’d seen you have this many subs, points, or viewers while streaming before. It was like a switch flipped. 
He felt a tiny flutter of something like pride swell into his chest. You were becoming more confident every day he knew you, from your knife skills to school teaching to now streaming. 
“Oh shittttttt,” you groaned into your mic, ripping Seokjin away from his soft reverie and back into full on, desperate wanting. Maybe you were toeing the community guidelines with this stream, but that groan sounded almost pornographic coming out of your mouth, and any chance Seokjin had at trying to be respectful was long gone. 
He cocked an eyebrow. “Oh you’re being a bad girl tonight I see,” he chuckled to himself.
Almost as if you heard him, you giggled back, biting your lip playfully. Fuck, what were you doing to him? Your chat seemed to be in a similar standing. 
As a result, One of the mods pinned an announcement to the top:
W0nW00: To maintain community guidelines and compliance, we are labeling this channel as 18+. We ask that you be respectful to Y/N and her moderators as we continue with this stream. If your account is set to under 18, you will be redirected in 2 minutes. 
Shit, all for a simple moan? 
You paused the game. “I’m going to go for a bio break. Be right back.” You set your break screen, and instead of the usual, cutesy graphic of a cherry blossom tree blowing in the wind that said “Spring Day Streams”, it was now a neon, vaporwave cityscape and said “Join Us For Spring Night Streams, An After Dark Experience”. 
Seokjin’s eyes wide, he finally released his cock from his sweats, and took himself in his hand. Oh, this was going to be good. 
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Seokjin is a camboy.
That’s the only thought splitting through the headache you’ve had all morning. Is there such a thing as an orgasm hangover? Because if so, you’ve got one. If not, maybe you were concussed in the kitchen yesterday.
You’ve spent most of the day trying to clean up the mess of your apartment and frankly, your mental state. Seokjin spends his Friday nights Daddy domming his humble pool of viewers and making thousands of dollars doing so. To even think that sentence feels insane. 
And humiliating. Because attached to that sentence is the realization that Seokjin’s major success as a gay camboy means that he is absolutely not thinking about you the way you are of him, and the kiss you imposed on him at work was definitely not consensual after all, which when you think about it, is obvious based on how frantically he apologized and assigned himself at fault for what happened. He was trying in the most polite way to reject you. 
You’re an idiot. And despite all of it, the shame of your action isn’t what’s delivering the heavy punch; it’s the fact that your crush didn’t die the second you found out last night. If anything, you’ve been silently wallowing in your sadness since you woke up, your stupid heart not processing that there’s one significant reason for why you can’t have him. 
You try to trudge through the fog of it all, placing your newly cleaned toys back into their proper dust cases and compartments before returning them to the drawer next to your side table. You switch loads of laundry and drop the warm pile on your bed, grimacing at the idea of having to fold it all. 
You shouldn’t be disappointed. This is a stupid crush that was never meant to go this far. Not to this place where you aren’t just humiliated, but the loneliness that you often avoid feeling has been spilling through the cracks of your life all day. 
The laundry is the only thing that occupies one side of your bed. Never another body, his warmth, his weight existing as another living thing keeping your living thing company as you fold laundry or wash dishes. 
No, you shouldn’t have projected this crush or obsession or whatever you want to call it onto Seokjin, but in these months of conversation and blooming friendship, you’ve found your mind beginning to wander into the fantasy of not just sex, but safety and connection. He’s a man who has always treated you with the utmost respect, even now in how he has maintained a boundary that gently rejects you, even if it’s confusing. 
Before his promotion at the restaurant, there was collaboration that fostered your trust in him; your bodies started working around each other like dancers, fusing your movements with a natural flow. You’d seen some of that pop up throughout the day yesterday, which you couldn’t help but feel like delivered a bit of hope in your stomach. 
You know it’s useless to continue hoping that something will change. Maybe he’s bi, you’ve thought a few times since you went to bed. He did call everyone a good girl. But, don’t some guys call each other girls as some kind of kink? But even hoping for that still feels wrong in your gut. Instead of wishing he just so happens to like pussy, you should be redirecting yourself from the fact that it doesn’t even matter. He said so himself, he’s your boss. 
“Ugh,” you groan into your unfolded laundry. Why can’t anything ever be easy? 
You shove the clothing pile to one side of your bed as you lie down, staring up at the ceiling, your eyes following the soft pattern of cracks that have begun to appear through the paint. You already know that going back to work on Monday will be awful, not just because this crush won’t crush itself, but because you clearly now know more about Seokjin than he perhaps ever wanted you to know. Won’t it be awkward trying to talk to him? And if he asks why you’re being so weird, what will you even say?
Sorry Seokjin, I’m not sure how to talk to you anymore because I spent Friday cumming while watching you on your gay cam show as you stroked your huge dick and admittedly once I saw your face connected to your dick I had the best orgasm of my life that rendered me useless the next day.
Perfect. This won’t be absolute hell at all. 
Your stream alarm rings on your phone. You sigh. That’s right. You promised a makeup stream to your followers. 
How did Seokjin stream so confidently? Last night, the way he just exuded dominance and control, how he managed to get so much money from sitting there and making his chat do the work? It’s not only impressive but also inspiring. If you were able to have that distance from your chat, maybe things would be a bit easier, and the questions that were so personal and directed would fade into the background while ones of adoration and impersonal fantasies could take their place. 
And the money, god. If you had money like that, you wouldn’t have a stack of financial aid forms sitting on your dresser right now waiting for you to basically jump through hoops to ask nicely for a loan. 
The way he was able to be so different and make money off of it? That feels promising to you too. Because whoever Daddy Dom Seokjin is, he isn’t just walking around in the world being “on” all the time. You know him as someone whose ears flush with embarrassment the second one of the delivery guys tells him he made an error with the order and tries to diffuse the tension with some free snacks; who often hums game scores and whose laugh sounds like a squeaky windshield wiper swiping across dried glass. 
What if you could be more like that? 
Not Daddy Dom or Mommy Y/N, but more casual and detached? You could stop reading your chat and answering questions. Or if you did want to play into some of Seokjin’s sex appeal, you could dress slightly more suggestively or do your hair and makeup to exploit the male gaze’s money a bit, just like how Seokjin did. 
In this world of streaming, where everything feels like fractured versions of reality, parts of you being split among the pixels and delivered and digested into someone else’s home for their entertainment and pleasure, it’s hard for you to ever feel like you can have some close community with your followers. Not like Wonwoo does with his. Because of your start and how people perceive you now, there just doesn’t seem to be a way for you to have intimacy. Even if you tried, your chat flies by so quickly now that unless it’s a notification from a mod, any usernames and personal anecdotes are lost before you can even know who’s who. 
You think about it for a bit. It can’t hurt to try, right? It’s not like you being a little less reserved would automatically launch you into a career in porn. And if it will help bring a little more income in, lessen the blow a tiny bit, you can’t really see why it would make sense to keep doing things this way when you are this miserable by the idea of it. 
Spring Day Streams holds a standard image that is pink and soft, and you know some people love watching you because you’re hitting some fantasy they have. The woman who looks like an angel but swears like a sailor and as stereotypes often assume, fucks like a demon. 
What could “fuck like a demon” look like on an often all ages game streaming platform, though? Well, not all ages. Some streams are only accessible to registered users over the age of 18. Usually the age filter is there because the game is super graphic, or the streamer is a sex educator or swears so much the algorithm has started penalizing them. A few times though, you’ve seen some streamers playing games that are so raunchy they’re basically porn. And porn versions of those games exist, but to keep some of them streamer-friendly, they also sell versions that don’t have uncensored anime girls receiving creampies. That would definitely maintain the brand without going too far, right? 
You open your phone, typing in some of the titles of games, mostly dating simulators you’ve seen other streamers play before, and then you stumble across one called MiCamStudio, a puzzle game with the plot where you’re the manager of a camgirl enterprise and your goal is to become the most successful, richest entrepreneur while keeping your girls happy. 
You laugh. It feels a bit on the nose, but a fun way to shake things up in an after-dark concept. And it’s not too expensive, which means if this entire plan bombs, you won’t have invested much into it. Fine, you’ll do it. 
Wonwoo responds right away after you shoot a quick message with your idea to your mods on discord to help them prepare. 
On it. 
With a deep breath, you start to get ready. 
As you brace yourself to come back from your short bio break and announcement, your heart is hammering in your ears. What if everyone left? What if things get weird or gross or you think you’re being kind of sexy and cute but are really just being an idiot? 
Suddenly, this entire idea seems so stupid. What if your mom decides this is finally the time she wants to watch you stream? She hasn’t ever had the interest to, but what if she finally thinks to herself on a random Saturday night in February, “Wow, I sure do crave watching some video game streams! Say, I know my daughter Y/N streams. I should check it out!” or worse, what if someone she knows sends one of the clips or a screenshot of you with your tits practically out? 
Your anxiety is starting to win in this battle, and as you pace back and forth in front of your computer, shaking your clammy hands and trying to remember how to breathe, you see the number of viewers has dropped since the stream moved from all ages to 18+. Which means that you can now read your chat again. 
The comments are actually really supportive. Among them are some of your mods cheering you on, but one username anchors you back into your chair as you watch the notification dance across the screen. 
JokeJinSeokjin has subscribed for 3x months!
Seokjin. Seokjin is live and watching you. Which you expect to be the thing that will throw you over the edge. Seokjin, your boss. Your kind of friend. Your crush. The man who you are trying to emulate in this attempt to be sexy and earn more money and confidence. 
Surprisingly, a warm glow of comfort settles in you stomach instead. Because while maybe in all of this mess there’s plenty to be anxious about, you feel a part of you that’s determined to make him proud, to show him in this rejection what he’s missing out on. You take a deep breath to steady yourself as you hit the button to come back. 
“Ah, hello! I mean-um, hello,” you catch the nervousness pouring out of your shaky voice and clear your throat, trying to sound more composed. 
“I wanted to try something new today. Well, tonight. Welcome to Spring Night Streams, where I’ll be playing some not safe for work in more of a raunchy way type of games. Because as we know if there’s blood and guts and horror, it’s all ages! But boobs, those are a no no!”
You shakily laugh and suck your lip into your teeth. The taste of your lipstick laths over your tongue and you try not to think about how messy you just made it look. Or how you might now have lipstick on your teeth to really add an effect of clownery to your poor jokes. 
“I’m going to play this game? It came out a few years ago, but it’s a puzzle game called MiCamStudio. Maybe some of you have played it. But uh, yeah if you don’t like things like that I can always um…well I’ll just try it and see…” you trail off and nervously fidget with your controls as you open the game. 
Whatever you were expecting out of a dating simulator type game where you were in charge of cam girls, it wasn’t this. When you open the menu to start a new game, the animation that loads after you click “Start Streaming” is dozens of bra-clad boobs bouncing across the screen as it transitions you to the story line menu. 
Jesus Christ. Heat floods your cheeks. This somehow feels worse than the time your earbuds died and you didn’t notice that the audiobook of a very spicy holiday romance you were listening to wasn’t coming through them, but your phone. On the bus. And to make matters worse, you were at a part where the narrator was very generously providing sound effects and moans for the main character as she participated in an orgy with triple penetration. Yikes. 
You begin the walk-through of the storyline, greeted by Candy, a pink haired, busty camgirl who is looking to expand her horizons in the business. As you tap through the prompts, Candy starts to become less dressed, abandoning her already tiny skirt and crop top combo for a barely-there set of lingerie that covers just her nipples and vagina. 
“I need your help!” Candy pouts, her eyes shimmering with tears. “I need 400 new fans for my business or else I’ll be out of work! Quick, use this magic wand as you solve puzzles to help me get closer to my goal!” 
The wand is, of course, a vibrator. When you play through the first level tutorial and are prompted to use the wand, it vibrates the blocks, shifting them into new positions on the screen to match colors together. If you get enough combos, she has a giant orgasm, which increases her fans so you can pass to the next level. 
As you work through some of the first few levels, you notice that your view count has recovered somewhat from earlier, though the comments are kind of off-putting. Not because people are being sexually inappropriate, but because they’re mad you’re not interacting with them. 
NGL I thought this was going to be more fun and naughty. 
Yeah now she’s not even talking to us at all. 
I miss when she was bad at games and it was at least interesting. 
Someone come get me if she starts moaning again like she did earlier. 
Fuck. You are fucking this up. And your viewers are right, you haven’t been talking to them. Or really doing anything but playing the game and trying not to wince from embarrassment every time Candy moans as you make her a star. 
There’s got to be something you can do. You think about Seokjin again, who you’re not sure is still watching, but you hope some of that confident edge he had last night starts to come over you, too. What was it that he did to keep everyone engaged? 
He gave them incentive. A goal. He didn’t have to say much to them but tell them what to do and they happily did it. And that also took the pressure off of him to keep talking. 
With a deep breath, you test the waters. “Oh, you wanted more fun and naughty? Well, you didn’t really work for it did you?” 
You hate the words as they come from your mouth, but they have an immediate result. 
Loyal2You tipped 1600 points. What do you need us to do to earn it?
Your face burns hot, and you sip some water to try and cool yourself, playing it off as nonchalance rather than anxiety. You feel your stomach threatening to lurch into your throat as you force out the next sentence.  
“Mmm, I don’t know. Maybe you need to show me what I need,” you smirk. You really don’t know. Money? Subs? People not questioning you? This to be over?
LongJohn69 gifted 10 subs. Maybe this will help? 😉
“Well, it’s a start. Thanks for the sub,” you giggle, forcing yourself to relax into your chair. 
“Hmm, what can I give you all as a reward? I feel like I could really use some cute new clothes that I can wear for you next stream if you help me?” 
Your voice is softened and the pitch is a bit higher. Maybe Candy’s baby voice is having an impact on you from the game, because your normal, even paced tone is taking a turn. Is this the persona you’ve been trying to find? 
But you need this money. School, your future. You can’t just keep living the way you have been. 
7DaysAWeek tipped 10,000 points. Please, say “thank you 7 days” in that adorable whiny voice, baby. I’ll double tip if you do.
You freeze. 20,000 points is $200. All for you to say something so simple and stupid? 
God, but it doesn’t feel right to do it. You could ignore it, you think. And walk away with $100 before your commission rate is taken out. Which will end up being nothing, you realize.
“Oh, hmm.” You pause and then just do it. “Okay. Thank you 7 Days for the points. I really appreciate it.” You drum up the dramatics, eliciting some horrible, embarrassing baby voice that makes your vowels stringy and weak. 
Yuck. More requests pour in, people eager to get you to recite some innocent seeming phrases that you know are fodder for their spank bank. 
You see a tiny notification flash in the bottom right corner: a private message from Wonwoo. 
Y/N, you could get into deep shit if you aren’t careful. This could potentially violate your terms of service. 
You frown at the message but nod to let him know you read it. 
“Okay, well, I think it’s time we get back to the game!” You awkwardly divert your attention back to the screen, letting Candy’s moans fill the silence as you ignore the new requests and subs for the rest of your stream, too humiliated to think about what they could be saying.
After you end your stream, you feel the damn of tears that was welling your eyes for the last half hour spill. 
What a fucking disaster. What started as a hopeful night turned out to be one of your most streamed yet somehow also least successful broadcasts. The rush of viewers at the start provided you with a great boost, but after you didn’t engage again with the requests, your views, subs, and points plummeted, leaving you with a very slim payout for the day. This wouldn’t be much of anything for your bills once commission is taken. 
You don’t know how people do this. You feel like absolutely dog shit, and you even wrapped early, pretending that you were sick. But maybe you also aren’t really pretending, your stomach feels knotted and sour. 
Something about that felt wrong, but you don’t really understand why. It’s not like you’re prudish or fear sex. On any given day those kinds of requests stack up by the hundreds. But maybe it’s because tonight you finally peeled back the dismissive layer and let them in that has you feeling vulnerable and honestly, a little dirty. 
You wipe some stray tears from your eyes, stretching across the desk to grab your phone and pull it off of do not disturb mode. You see a few texts from Seokjin that he sent while you were streaming. 
Seokjin (8:17PM): Hey! I didn’t know you were supposed to stream yesterday. I would have let you leave early if I’d known.😞
Seokjin (9:15PM): Hey, are you okay? You look really uncomfortable. I know you’re playing and won’t see this until after you’re done but I wanted to check. 
Seokjin (9:47PM): Y/N, please don’t feed into these requests if it’s not what you want. 
Seokjin (10:02PM): Call me. The second you get this. Urgent.
You read the last text, which was sent twenty minutes ago. Shit, did something happen to the restaurant? 
“Y/N,” Seokjin says after one ring, his voice strained. 
“Um, hi Seokjin. I’m just calling you back because you said it’s urgent! Is everything okay with the restaurant? Did the snow knock power out or something? If you need me to come in tomorrow too I can help with stuff.”
“What?” Seokjin pauses for a second, his exasperation now turned to confusion. “No, Y/N. Everything with the restaurant is fine.”
“Oh. Then why did you call?” you ask. 
“Well, if you saw all my texts then you know I was watching your stream. And I just wanted to check and make sure you’re okay after that? Near the end you looked pretty upset.”
The warmth in your stomach you felt when you first heard his voice is gone, replaced by a sharp, gritty unease.
“Oh. Um, yeah I’m…fine,” but the tightness in your throat betrays you and a tiny sob escapes as the tears begin falling again. 
Seokjin doesn’t say anything as you sniffle into your phone, scrubbing the dribble away from your nose and cheeks with your sleeve. 
“Hey,” he says as your cries become softer. “Do you want to get out of the house for a bit?”
“It’s kind of late, isn’t it,” you say weakly. 
“That’s not what I asked. Do you want to get out of the house for a bit?” He repeats. 
Do you? Part of you is exhausted, tempted to just go right to bed. But you know if you lie down right now in the rest of that unfolded pile of laundry you might never emerge. 
“Ok,” you whisper into the receiver. 
“I’ll come get you,” Seokjin says. “Dress warm. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
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When you were little, your parents took you on a road trip to get away from the city. You sat in the backseat, kicking your father’s chair grumpily on the first day, tired from waking up early and having to be stuffed into the car with the mountain of snacks, toys, clothes, and camping gear you had shoved in beside you. Your father was patient for the first hour of your kicks, but before long the steady thump thump thump on his lower back was becoming a strong annoyance as he navigated further away from home. 
“Y/N,” your father had sharply warned once he’d had enough. “Keep it up, and I’ll take your feet off and put them into my pockets.” 
While in retrospect the threat is silly and impossible, at the time, your five-year-old self was struck with horror as you imagined him sawing your feet off like the patients who were out in the snow for too long in that medical TV show you saw at your grandparents’ house once.
You’d tucked your feet underneath you until you were at a rest stop, where picnic tables and a small garden scape awaited you, filled with native wildflowers and lazy, fat bees that hovered from flower to flower. 
Your mother smoothed your hair with her hand, guiding you through the garden as your father bought your lunches from inside the building. 
“He didn’t mean it,” she’d said softly, feathering the tips of your hair across your cheek. Goosebumps prickled along your arms and you shivered, even though the sun was heavy and hot on top of you that day. “No one will take your feet from you.” 
You’d hugged her tightly then, still unsure as to why someone would try to take your feet from you. Your tapping in the car was mostly to keep you from feeling like you were going to be sick, but back then you didn’t really have the words to express yourself. 
When your father returned, he wordlessly placed your meal in front of you, including a large, fudgy cookie for dessert. Your father had always been proud, and even then when he didn’t apologize to you and promise he wouldn’t saw off your feet, being given a dessert was as good as any apology. 
He smiled when you licked the smudged chocolate off your fingers, eventually tutting impatiently so your mother would take you to the bathroom to wash up. Afterwards, you found him looking at a map on the building’s outside wall, with a bright cherry red You Are Here sticker signifying where in this confusing picture you were supposed to be. 
“There’s an observation point a few stops away from here. It’s supposed to be a really nice view over a valley. Y/N, do you want to be our navigator for those and help me decide when we should stop to look?” 
Laced in there was his apology. An opportunity at redemption, connection. You’d nodded instantly and scrambled back into the car, no longer upset about having to share your space in the backseat with all the cargo, ready to take on your role as your father’s co-pilot. 
You visited every observation point along that freeway that trip, all the way from the rest stop to the campground in some rural village. Some of the spots were lackluster, now overgrown and showing a view of a wall of trees and bushes and not some regal cavern or farmland below. But there were also the ones that, had you never insisted on visiting, you would have never seen half as much of the flora and fauna you’d expected to see on your camping trip. And it was the one major trip your family had ever had that made you all feel like a collective unit, ready to fight against the forces of grumpiness or foot-sawers together.
From that point on, whenever you saw the sign marker, you couldn’t help but feel a smile bloom on your face, which is why at this moment you are sitting next to Seokjin in his car, bundled up and stupidly beaming at him as he mirrors a happy but confused smirk back at you.
When he’d picked you up, Seokjin didn’t say much, just started driving north, through your neighborhood and into the rolling hills outside of the city. While this morning’s snow still clings to the trees and rooftops of some hillside buildings, surprisingly, the plows have done a good job of ensuring the road is safe and salted. You can feel the tense knots in your shoulders starting to lessen a little just from the feeling of being somewhere else for a while.
As you weave up the mountain side, toward the observation point, you gasp. 
“What?” he asks. “What’s wrong?’ His eyes bulge from his head. 
“It’s just that, I love observation points,” you say sheepishly, not sure if you should divulge your entire story. 
Seokjin nods, thoughtful. “I like to come up here sometimes when I’ve had a really bad day. Just need to clear my head. Seemed like you needed to do that too.” The car curves along the bend, some of the wind fluttering clods of snow from the trees and onto the road. 
“Yeah, I do…” You trail off, letting him take you higher into the mountain before pulling into the observation point. This one has some small cafés and despite the late hour and snowfall, there are still quite a few cars parked in the lot, some sets of families and couples strolling around with warm drinks and peering out onto the twinkling, snow-covered city below. 
“How’s your head,” he asks gently, and it takes you a minute to remember what he’s referring to. You touch the make-up covered bruise and shrug.
 “Eh, it’s not so bad.” Truly, as the day wears on, you are feeling a bit tender, but the swelling has gone down, and your worry has gone with it. 
Seokjin opens your door for you, ever the gentleman, and you try to fight off the harsh tug in your chest that likens this behavior to a date. 
The two of you head over toward one of the lookout points, leaning against the rail posts. You take in the rolling hills below, how soft and plush the city looks now, almost like it could never be a place where you feel sadness or loneliness. You sigh. 
“You don’t have to talk about it,” Seokjin begins gently, “but I was wondering what happened during your stream tonight.”
“No, no, it’s okay,” you assure him. 
Maybe this conversation would feel more uncomfortable if you didn’t already feel so awful. You are just trying to feel a little bit better about this whole ordeal. Trying to find in you some nugget of comfort to ensure a more stable future. And hell, Seokjin had made it seem so easy. But now, you are humiliated. You aren’t sure how you are going to go live again and go back to how things were before when the internet is probably making a giant laughing stock of you, or fetishizing you. You’re not sure which one is worse. 
“So, I know when we used to be, um, friends, I had mentioned to you that streaming is something I fell into. And as you also know from working with me, I don’t have the best social skills. Or I can, maybe, I don’t know. Anyway, I haven’t been liking it that much, really. Mostly because people in the chat always ask really personal questions about me and it feels weird. Like they’re real people but they can’t be real, to me. Does that make sense?”
He nods once, urging you to continue. 
“Right, so, in all of this, I’ve been trying to think of ways to make it more fun for me. And last night I saw you-YouTuber. I saw this YouTube streamer and on his stream he just seemed so cool, and smart. And he was able to both stay engaged without telling everyone everything and had distance. But he also was kind of domin-strong, he was just really good at telling people to meet goals and incentives. And it worked, they did it. I thought, maybe this could help me be better at this so I don’t hate it so much. I could make some persona, do something different that helps me better enjoy it or make more money. I don’t know. It seems stupid now when I think about it.”
“It’s not stupid, Y/N,” Seokjin says, turning to you. Your eyes flit to his face. His nose is pinkish from the cold, and his broad shoulders are tightly bound up to his ears to avoid the chill from spreading. 
“Of course you should like streaming, but if you don’t, if this isn’t the formula that works for you, then maybe you should try something different to help you.”
“How do you do it?” you ask, realizing too late what you are saying. 
Seokjin freezes. “Do what?”
“Um, how do you maintain confidence all the time? Like at work and stuff.”
Seokjin scoffs. “I don’t. You know that. Weren’t you just with me last week when I was bowing and spluttering like an idiot to Mrs. Yoon because that one repair man backed his car over her potted azalea? I was anything but confident then.” 
You fight a soft smile. Seokjin had been trying to scoop the twiggy, out of season bush into a bucket to salvage it before offering to replace it. Mrs. Yoon however, was having none of it, chirping on about how that plant had been germinated from her ancestors’ hillside home generations ago, and despite her choosing to carelessly plop it into a busy alleyway, she was sure there was no replacement that could soothe her aching heart. Seokjin handed her a wad of cash, and a gift certificate to the restaurant in an act of good faith. That seemed to shut her up. 
“You know what I mean,” you nudge. “You have an ability to talk to people though. Even Mrs. Yoon can’t say no to your mother’s bossam recipe when you charm her like that.” 
“First of all, no one can say no to my mother’s bossam recipe, regardless if I’m there to grovel or not. Secondly, you’re charming too, Y/N.”
You chortle at this. You? Charming? “Ha, I wish. But really, Seokjin. Half of that stream was an awkward setup and I thought I was going to puke. And not because of how I was dressed or anything like that. It’s so weird. I don’t really care about if people make comments like that about me because they’re impersonal. But knowing that I am sitting there, and everyone has some expectation of how I’m going to perform for them, it makes me feel awful.” 
“Tell me about it,” you hear him mutter, but he then recovers. “It sounds like that crossed one of your boundaries, then. Just because some explicit stuff doesn’t bother you, doesn’t mean that nothing ever will. And it doesn’t have to make sense. You can not care if strangers are talking about you sexually but care if you’re engaging with them and using sexual innuendos to do so.” 
Part of you is tempted to engage with the comment, to press him to explain and pretend that you have no idea what he’s speaking in regard to. But what good would that do here? Please Seokjin, can you share with me how being a gay sex cammer, which I absolutely already know about after watching you and masturbating to you, has impacted your life? 
God, how mortifying it would be for you. 
Instead, you let the comment go, cutting him enough slack so he can assume you didn’t hear him. 
“You know, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Seokjin adds. You shoot him a look. 
“I don’t really have much of a choice at this point! No offense, but it’s not like I’m making bank at the restaurant, and I already have chosen to withdraw from this term because of billing issues and–” 
“You’re withdrawing from school? Y/N!” He yells,  and you feel a heat of shame flood your cheeks as you see some scattered people shift their attention toward you. 
Now you were both embarrassed and pissed. How dare he scold you?
“Not from school, just the term!” you yell back. You’d made the choice in your spiral this evening, in between bio breaks. It was haunting you as you stared back at the packet of financial aid papers and billings notices. Streaming, you’ve now seen, is such a hit or miss game. And you truly can’t maintain the expenses that can cut into your work hours. Especially if you need to get a different job that isn’t streaming or working at the restaurant. 
“Is..is that where Spring Night Streams is coming from?” he asks, face flushed with embarrassment at his outburst. Your anger dulls.
“Partially. This felt like some way to sustain myself without it draining me. I thought maybe if I look pretty, people won’t just come and try to either ask me super personal things I don’t want to share, or they’ll just feed into basically the illusion of sex and pay me that way. And I can continue to play games and suck at them or be good at them, but the original reason behind why they came to my stream could be replaced with a different person, someone who isn’t so closely trying to dig into me.
“But, then I fumbled the bag, and you saw it. The viewer count was fluctuating so bad, and the second I interacted with that one comment, suddenly I was toeing the line for TOS and could easily have jeopardized my entire branding and be permanently banned from the website for sexual activity. Tonight was one of the lowest payouts I’ve made since I started. And now I know too, this could all just as easily go away if I’m not being…I don’t know. Compliant.” 
Seokjin makes a dissatisfied grunt, his breath coming out in a white puff. Now past eleven, most of the couples and families have dispersed, and the cute café that had advertised decadent looking hot chocolates is closed. The only thing remaining open is the tiny convenient store. 
You try to suppress a shiver but fail. 
“Come on,” he says, guiding you away from the railing and toward the store. 
Inside, the shopkeeper doesn’t even flinch or look away from his phone, which is streaming some sports match in Spanish. 
Seokjin places his hand on the small of your back as he guides you over to the drinks section, gesturing for you to select something from the warm options. 
“I wouldn’t recommend anything pre-made,” he warns, his voice low. “That stuff has probably been here since this morning.” He helps himself to a tea packet and the hot water dispenser. 
You browse a little and find a packet of hot chocolate. While it may not be the fancy, marshmallow delight pink drink that the café had advertised in their window, this will do just fine. 
By the time you’ve gotten your drink mixed together, Seokjin is waiting for you at the counter, a selection of different snacks piled high and a gentle smile on his face despite how bothered and grumpy the shop worker is toward him, practically smashing the food into a bag and muttering a total. 
You hadn’t given yourself a chance to really look at him before, but as he stands before you, you can finally take in how incredible he looks. While he’s wearing some gray joggers underneath, he’s elected for a long black puffer coat and green knit sweater and somehow looks so put together, so…boyfriend. 
Your heart flutters a bit and you try to tamp it down. This isn’t a date, you remind yourself, Get a hold of yourself Y/N. 
As you head back out into the chilly air, you both settle into a table outside of the convenience store, and Seokjin pulls the snacks out of the bag, all of which are your favorites. 
“You remembered?” you ask, a little stunned that he would commit all your tiny convenience store runs to memory over the months you’ve worked together and would split packets of sweet potato puffs and tiny, sweet cakes. He shrugs. 
“Morale is low. You need the boost. Now pass me some of those chips, I’m starving.” 
Your stomach growls in agreement, and you pop open the bag, nibbling away quietly. 
“You don’t need to people please to be a good streamer,” Seokjin says finally, rinsing his mouth with his tea. You chew your bottom nervously but wait for him to continue. “There’s tons of people on the internet who do streaming for all kinds of uh, stuff. And they make a ton of money without compromising their values to do so. Maybe instead of focusing on what you think people want in a stream, do what you want instead.” 
You sigh. “See, that sounds great and all, but when I tried that today, people got mad and left. Did you see all the donations trying to get me to say things or do stuff after that first one?”
Seokjin rolls his eyes, taking a big bite of a chocolate cake thing and chewing diligently. “Welrr,” he begins, his mouth stuffed full, “I guesh you have to undershtand dat peepo on dee internet will always chewz sex first to get what dey wan.” He swallows. “And if that doesn’t work because someone sets a boundary, fuck them.” He pauses. “Not literally!” A blush creeps up his neck. 
You laugh. “I thought you limited your swearing to mostly angry kitchen interactions,” you say, and sip the watery hot chocolate. You wince. 
“You chose wrong with that hot chocolate. I’ll make it up to you next time.” Next time. Your stomach leaps. 
“But you don’t see it because I’m trying to maintain a professional air most of the time. But I say shit, piss, cock and fuck pretty regularly.” Like when you’re camming, you mentally note. 
“Yeah, so, speaking of that. And boundaries. This isn’t really the most professional boss-employee relationship happening right now.” You gesture around you. You didn’t want to say it, but you know it needs to be addressed. Seokjin and you really need to figure out a new set of rules, especially now you know what he does after dark, and he’s watching your streams, too. 
He pauses and sighs. “Shit, yeah, you’re right. Look Y/N, I do want to talk about that. And we can address it. But before we do, I want to finish talking to you about what happened earlier today. Can we do a brief boss-employee dynamic halt for the rest of the time we’re up here? I want to talk to you as a friend right now, which we once were, even if it was for a short time. Will you let me do that?” 
You look up at him, and he’s gazing back with intensity, and also something that looks almost like desperation. 
“Okay,” you say. “For the rest of the time we’re out of the city. We are just two people. Friends. Not boss. Not an employee. Just us.” 
He smiles at that. “Yeah, just us.” 
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Seokjin tried to not kick himself in his own ass for doing what he was doing now. Bringing you up here, to his safe place, was far too intimate of a decision. But when he’d watched the rest of your stream, watched you do stuff that– while he couldn’t be absolutely sure but he could assume– tested your boundaries and comfort, he knew he couldn’t just let you spiral by yourself. 
He’d been there before. During a show earlier in his cam career, Seokjin was once asked to try a more extreme kink on his stream which involved a thin metal rod that he would push into his urethra for pleasure. 
He’d agreed to try it before he’d even looked it up, and even when purchasing the equipment, he’d felt really queasy and knew he would hate it. But he’d promised, which he now understood was a fake law people set for themselves to push them past their limits. On the stream where he tested it out, he started shaking and crying, stopping before he could even open the package with the rods in it and ended his stream early. 
From then on, he had spent more time learning about kinks and BDSM. It was much more psychological and technical than he’d realized, with precise and careful movements, components of care, and more thoughtfulness than he’d ever really learned from porn or the internet. 
While he and Soon Yi had been exploratory in their sex life, it wasn’t like they’d ever done proper research when they were together. Looking at things now, he felt a little sickened knowing she could have gotten seriously hurt the times he choked her, not knowing the right placement of hands or pressure to make sure he didn’t cause permanent damage. 
Seokjin then reassessed his boundaries. He never wanted to position himself on his streams where he would succumb to pressure for money and compromise his own safety or desire. This was supposed to be fun.
The main tenets of BDSM are safe, sane, and consensual, which is hard to define on the internet. When something is leaked or found by the wrong party, it can especially compromise consent. With a permanent imprint of something existing once agreed upon, at any point someone’s right to withdraw consent can be invalidated simply because there’s a paper trail. And if that happened, then safety and sanity were sure to be called into question too.
Which is why Seokjin couldn’t stay silent after he saw you drawing breath after shaky breath after the first exchange with that follower. The instant regret that bloomed on your face as you so easily traded your comfort to make money, he never wanted you to feel that or experience it again. 
Which is why you now sat before him, the residual makeup from your stream still there but smeared, a thin looking peacoat doing a lot of work to protect you from the elements. This is why he said dress warm. Why were you wearing a glorified blazer in this weather?
He knew his time was limited with you, and that yes, he was already compromising this boundary that he’d set. But boundaries could be redrawn, and in this moment, he didn’t want the only thing protecting you right now to be that peacoat. He needed to protect you too. 
Granted, you probably were questioning his qualifications in this, and for a brief moment he considered telling you, but he quickly dismissed the idea when he remembered the video of him cumming and saying your name existed on his page if you’d ever gotten curious. Behind a paywall, sure, but it was there. 
No, for now, it was Seokjin and Y/N, friends. Us, he thought, and his pulse quickened unhelpfully. 
You sat in front of him, sipping at that awful hot chocolate, waiting for him to deliver more of his advice. He hesitated to speak more. Here you were, attention fully focused on him, and the dependence on him to get you home tonight, to move back into a world that wasn’t just you two and your own little universe, and all Seokjin was doing was considering how long he could carry on the pause. 
Maybe he would never speak again, and you would have to stay here forever, on top of the mountain as the snow began to gently fall around you two like you both lived in your own private snow globe. 
Wait, snow? Seokjin blinked, and sure enough the flakes were swirling around you both again, the wind kicking up your hair. You let out a sharp shiver, and that broke the fantasy of staying here. 
He ushered you back to the car, where now the snow was coming down in thick, heavy globs that signified the moisture in the air had increased, which made sense. Back in the city, the forecast had said it was set to rain, but he’d forgotten elevation impacts the weather, and that the change of moisture in the air also could result in ice on the way down. 
As you warmed your hands in front of his heat vents, he tried to think of his next move. It was now after midnight, which meant the road authority was probably not planning on plowing the roads anytime soon, and the accumulation quickly erasing the parking lot around you was a sure sign that it soon would be unsafe to drive. 
If you stay here any longer, you might be stuck together all night, an evil idea glinted through his head, and he felt a pulse of desire run through him as he caught a whiff of your soft, sweet scent. 
It would be kind of hot, the two of you snuggled in the backseat of his SUV, you clinging to him tightly to keep yourself warm through the storm as you used his parka as a blanket, the windows fogging up to give you two privacy as you moved tighter together, panting into each other’s mouths when you rubbed up against him and–
No. He couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t. Urging his steadily inflating erection down, he glanced over to you, noticing you were still shivering. 
He sighed. God, why did he have to get hard right now, in gray sweatpants no less? Nothing screamed “boner alert” more than seeing a dick swelling in light colored sweats. But you were still cold, and he decided he would rather risk you seeing him hard than your teeth chattering or you getting sick. 
Seokjin removed his puffer, handing it to you. “Here, put this on,” he ordered, and you looked at him, a tremor rocking through your body as you tried to eke out a “thank you”.
You began to put the puffer over your peacoat, but Seokjin shook his head. “I think your peacoat is useless right now. Maybe you should take that off and just wear mine. And then, consider getting a new coat,” he teased. 
You hesitated. “Uh,” you said. Seokjin’s eyebrow raised, and he swiftly adjusted himself in his joggers while you looked down at your coat before sighing and unbuttoning it. 
Fuck. You still had on that same top from earlier, and Seokjin could now see that it wasn’t just a sexy, low cut top that showed your heavy and full breasts, but that it also had a large keyhole cutout through the back, which meant you didn’t wear a bra with it. He bit his lip as he took in your hard and prominent nipples. God, no wonder you were cold. You were practically naked. 
His cock twitched, and any attempts he had at concealing his erection were useless. He was now definitely going to be fully hard for the rest of the drive. 
You zipped yourself into Seokjin’s puffer and let out a satisfied sigh as you nuzzled into the warmth. Seokjin took the opportunity to snatch your peacoat from your lap and drape it over himself, praying that would help conceal some of the compass-pointing-north bullshit he was trying to stave off. 
Unfortunately, you snuggled into his coat was just making it worse. 
Clearing his throat, he started the car, and slowly began testing the surface of the parking lot. It was a little slick, but nothing too bad. If you stayed any longer, though, you would definitely be here overnight. 
With a silent, sad nod to the outlook point, Seokjin prepared himself to head back to reality, where your moment of connection would be replaced by workplace congeniality. 
About halfway down the mountain, the snow surely turned to a heavy rain, aggressively battering down on the windshield and making it nearly impossible to find the lines on the road. 
“I’m sorry, I think I should pull over,” he apologized and you agreed easily, your shoulders relaxing a bit as he pulled over to the side of the road. 
“Well, we never really got to finish talking about stuff anyway,” you offered generously. 
Seokjin smirked back. “Yeah, we didn’t. Look, what I wanted to say earlier was that with streaming, you shouldn’t have to compromise on what you want to be successful. If people leave your stream because they can’t hear you baby voice their requests so they can get off, then fuck them. They aren’t the community of people you want to watch your content, anyway. Those are the type of people who are never satisfied, who will just demand more from you. Sooner or later they’ll be less kind and be aggressive and threatening. And you don’t deserve that, Y/N.” 
He sucked in a breath. “You just need a chance to build confidence, that’s all. Assuming you even want to continue doing these streams. I know you said you don’t feel like you have much of a choice, but maybe I could help you out. Uh, I could give you a raise or something so you could quit! And with school, too, I’m sure we could figure out something! Maybe if it’s not too late you could go back and––”
You held up your hands, signaling for Seokjin to stop talking. 
“I’ve made up my mind! And I don’t think giving me a raise or trying to help me with school would be a great way of maintaining that boundary we are supposed to have, remember? Something tells me a boss isn’t supposed to offer his employee an undeserved pay raise for her personal issues.” You huff.
You were right. Seokjin chuckled. “Okay, fair. I’m sorry. I just don’t want you to throw everything away like I did.” 
You whipped your head over to him. “Listen, Seokjin. I appreciate that you care and don’t want things to happen to me. But I’m also not you. And you also didn’t throw everything away but that’s another topic completely, one I thought we discussed yesterday morning. Regardless, I’m getting a lot of mixed messages here and I need you to help me understand what exactly is happening right now. Are you my friend or my boss? Because right now it feels like you’re telling me what to do like you are in charge of me but hiding it behind the guise of friendship and that’s not how this works. So explain. Ideally before you drop me off and we don’t speak again until Monday.” 
Seokjin swallowed hard, an anxiousness beginning to swirl in your stomach. This whole conversation felt like it was going south really quick. He scrambled to steady himself and took a deep breath.
“You’re right,” he said, running a hand through his hair. He hadn’t styled it today, and the black strands were sticking to his forehead from the melted snow. “I’m sorry. You have every right to decide. And you’d said before that this was a temporary pause. And even if it wasn’t, that’s also your choice.”
“Again, yes, you’re right. But I also don’t see why you seem to care so much!” Your volume raised in annoyance and you crossed your arms over your chest in a puff. “You don’t get to decide I’m some soft little flower who can’t advocate for herself! Like yeah, I feel shitty about what I did but I’m just trying to figure out my boundaries, just like you said earlier! So yes, I have the right to decide if I want to go back to school or not! Thanks for pointing that out!”
If he hadn’t been getting chewed out right now by you, Seokjin would’ve thought you were the cutest thing he’d ever seen, your mouth settled into a sharp frown and your eyebrows knit together as you argued with him. 
Instead though, he felt like a jackass. He’d seriously overstepped in his attempts to protect you, and guilt washed through him as he realized he was placing himself into your shoes. Even if your situations were scarily similar, you still had the right to do what you wanted without his interference. Besides, his intention was to provide safety for you, not control. Maybe he’d underestimated you earlier and how you were utilizing your stream. Yes, you were uncomfortable, but it’s not like you were a child who was set to be taken advantage of, or that you’d make the same mistakes he would.  
“I-I care about you, Y/N. We’re friends. I know being your boss changed a lot, and while I sign your paycheck and have to give you orders, it’s not like that change in role made me care less. It’s not that easy.” 
You uncrossed your arms. “But,” you started, your tone softening, “you can’t both tell me what to do as my boss and tell me what to do as a friend. I’m not clocked in, Seokjin. And that’s why this is so fucking hard. Because my boss is the one who took me up a mountain after apologizing to me yesterday for his “gross misuse of power” when I’m the one who kissed you sitting on a fucking prep counter! And yeah, we were friends before you were my boss, and that means I learned to work with you and trust you as my coworker, and we shared interests so you can watch my streams and tell me about MapleStory. We have history and it’s not something we can deny. But you keep acting like I am not in control, like I am not an adult. 
“I would love it if we could stay on this mountain forever,” you added, taking the words Seokjin was thinking earlier and making them real, “because, maybe then we could just stay friends. I miss you as my friend! And I wouldn’t feel so…weird now trying to figure out which guy, Boss Seokjin or Friend Seokjin, is talking to me.” 
Seokjin was unsure what to say, just that he knew he’d fucked up yesterday not just with his behavior in the kitchen, but ultimately how he set boundaries with you. 
“I don’t know what to do about it, Y/N,” he said weakly, honestly. 
“Can I then offer a suggestion?” Your voice sounded frustrated, on the verge of yelling. He nodded. 
“On this mountain, right now. You are my friend. And any other time when we aren’t at work, we are friends. We are not the first two people who started a friendship and had a power dynamic at work. I don’t know what happened in your past that makes this so hard for you, and you don’t need to tell me. But whatever you said yesterday, it wasn’t true. I want you to trust me when I say you didn’t take advantage of me. Was it kind of stupid and inappropriate on both our parts? Sure. But I’m not this weak, breakable thing. You said so yourself with my boundary-setting for my stream that I just need confidence to assert myself and make sure I don’t get taken advantage of. So let me start with you. Help me start with you.” 
You leaned a little closer and Seokjin’s heart beat erratically. “I promise, Kim Seokjin, that whatever happened in the kitchen yesterday was consensual. At least on my end. And that I do hold you in regard as my boss during work hours most of the time. But I can’t fucking stand if you continue to uphold this standard when you talk to me as an authority and then immediately pull a hypocritical move and try to be my friend after. It’ll drive me crazy.”
Your voice was shaky now, like you were holding back tears. Seokjin fought the urge to pull you close to him, but god, how he wanted to. 
“What you do need,” he asked and you sighed. 
“Clear communication. On both sides. No more deciding for me. On anything. If I say no at work, it’s just as valid as saying no in private, even if it’s something you think is what’s best for me. Even if you don’t like it. Because you don’t know what really is or isn’t until I tell you.” He nodded in agreement. 
“I can do that. And I’m sorry again, for how confusing this must’ve been. I acted selfishly when I decided that my position as your boss overruled and negated any of our history. It was never going to be as clean as I wanted it to be,” he apologized. 
You managed a sad smile but nodded, a sign you accepted his apology. 
“Thank you. And also, I do want to continue doing the streams. I didn’t get to say that before. I do want to try after dark stuff. Because it feels like it could be fun, could help me stay involved but less personal if that makes sense. And…” You trailed off, humming to yourself as you tried to find the words for your final thought. 
“I really would like it if I could have your help in this. To help coach me in a way to maintain that boundary. You did have some really great points on execution. And I think maybe your experience in cam-leadership and management could help me both continue doing this but also finding what I want. And I need a friend for that. Not a boss or manager.” 
Seokjin’s eyes widened as he caught the last of what you were saying. 
“Wait,” he said, trying to put the pieces together. Were you asking what he thought you were asking? “So…you want me to help you run an adult-only, after dark gaming stream?” You laughed. 
“I need you to be my confidence coach,” you clarified. “Help me learn how to say no to my fanbase and keep myself calm throughout a stream so I don’t compromise. And like, I don’t know. We can iron out the details, the idea is so fresh to me, but I need you, my caring friend Seokjin, to make sure I don’t break the terms of service again and ban me from streaming.”
He blinked a few times, unsure how you’d arrived at the conclusion that he would be any good at this. 
But Seokjin knew he would be. He did this multiple times a week, and it’s how he knew you were heading toward trouble. What if he could help you learn how to protect yourself? Because you were right, you didn’t need anyone to save you. But you maybe needed someone to show you. And he could be that person. 
“Okay,” he said, “I’ll do it.”
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As Seokjin pulls up to your apartment nearly an hour later, you feel a slight sadness that your night is over. On the way home, as the rain steadily poured and the city lights came back into a clear view, you’d felt a tug of worry in your gut that because you were back in the city, your agreement to stay friends wasn’t real, and that any moment Seokjin would be cold and formal, withdrawing his agreement to help you with streaming. 
You’d had the idea in the car in somewhat of an epiphany, sorting through the confusing dynamic you’d been shoved into. It made sense to you, now. Instead of trying to model yourself after the master, why not learn from the man himself? 
Despite your initial anxiety that he would back out, Seokjin if anything is all the more reassuring, gently nudging you with your peacoat in his hands to signal it is time to trade. You nod sleepily, shrugging it off your shoulders and trying to ignore the disappointment you have in no longer being enveloped in his warm scent. 
As you tuck your arms back through your sleeves, Seokjin gets out of his side of the car, the rain still beating harshly, but he appears even more determined to open your door for you, opening an umbrella to keep you and your coat from getting pounded on. 
You try to insist on sharing the umbrella, but Seokjin shakes his head, guiding you forward toward your apartment complex’s front door. 
“Thank you,” you say as you step under the lip of the roof with him, smiling up at Seokjin, who is already soaked. His black hair is piecey and dripping down his face, plastering a few disheveled pieces across his forehead. “God, you really should’ve used the umbrella too! You’re drenched!”
Seokjin laughs a hearty laugh, the squeaky, windshield wiper one that makes your chest burn. “Please, that coat you’re wearing is pathetic. I had said dress for the warmth and you picked one of the worst things you could find. Even a standard issue blazer has more weather resistance than that thing!” 
“Excuse you, but this coat most of the time is fine. And also, I thought you were just saying it as a formality! If I’d known we were heading into a literal mountain I would have changed my clothes!” You bicker back, your laughter filling the space between you two. 
“Yeah, well, now you know for next time,” he says, eyes flickering with something you almost categorize as lust. 
You beam. This time the idea of next time feels possible. If Seokjin and you can work on these weird work boundaries, there might be a hope something comes from this after all. Unless he’s gay, which you still can’t quite figure out, but you try not to think about that as he shakes his head like a big dog. 
“Okay, Sparky,” you joke and glance down at your phone. It’s very late now, and your body is quickly succumbing to the exhaustion of the day. “I’ll see you Monday?”
Seokjin’s shoulders sag, and he sighs, stepping back into the rain. “Yeah, I should probably let you go now. I’ll see you on Monday. And Y/N?”
His lips turn into a smug smirk as the rain soaks through his clothes. “Don’t forget that you promised me a crate of julienned carrots”.
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©2024 by jooniperbonsai
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frangipanilove · 2 months ago
Text
“…Like A Rolling Stone…?”
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It might still be considered a spoiler which song Daryl sings in TBOC season 2, so I won’t reveal that above the cut. It’s not Bob Dylan’s “Like A Rolling Stone”, like the headline of this post could possibly allude to. That’s just shameless misdirection, and I apologize.
However, enjoy this completely unrelated fake Rolling Stone magazine cover that was released in a Skybound article back in July 2017:
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Obviously, massive spoilers for TBOC 2x6 under the cut, proceed with caution…
This is mostly @wdway’s brain child, I have a few thoughts of my own to add, but nothing nearly as exciting as her stuff.
So, the song Daryl sings is "You Can't Always Get What You Want" by The Rolling Stones, which is super intriguing, concidering Skybound made sure to create an inextricable link between Beth and Rolling Stone Magazine with the fake magazine cover back in 2017. You could successfully agrue that any reference containing the phrase "rolling stone" at least on some level could be tied to her.
Now that we’re safely out of spoiler free territory, let’s have a look at the opening minutes of TBOC season finale 2x6. We find the scene TD’ers have been eagerly anticipating ever since we heard that Daryl was going to fulfill another one of the “I never’s” from 4x12 Still, namely the “I never sang out loud in public, like everything was fun”.
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The episode starts with a close up of Laurent blowing the seeds off a dandelion:
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Daryl approaches Laurent, explaining how where he’s from, people blow on those to set their wishes free:
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This reminded @wdway of Beth’s monologue from 4x10 Inmates about writing down your wishes to make them come true:
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Then Daryl goes on to explain how he found the guitar in the trunk of a car. I explained in a post earlier this week (read here) how trunks of cars are used as metaphors for tombs in TWDU, and how those tombs sometimes have “emergency exits”, so that it’s possible to “escape” them, meaning tomb symbolism means "death and resurrection". I've previously written about how green(e)houses represent the same type of symbolism here. We see an excellent exemple of this in the previous episode 2x5, where TPTB quite literally gave us a retelling of how Beth could have been saved after 5x8 Coda.
Famously known for escaping tombs was Jesus Christ himself. According to Luke 24:1-6, some women visited his tomb, only to find it empty, “the stone rolled away from the tomb”:
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A bit of a biblical “rolling stone” reference there, in other words, and it’s about as synonymous with “resurrection” as it can possibly get. With that in mind, do you see the fake Rolling Stone cover with Beth in a different light now? The "rolling stone" reference represents the "emergency exit" in the "tomb/trunk" symbolism, it is what allows the "resurrection" to take place. Resurrection; Like A Rolling Stone…
Then Laurent proceeds to sing “You Can’t Always Get What You Want”, by The Rolling Stones, which is what my stupid little Dylan-esque misdirection in the headline alluded to.
Daryl joins in, and gets emotional. His voice start breaking and he gets teary eyed.
I was officially ugly crying.
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@wdway also remembered a different fake magazine cover from back in the day, more specifically at the beginning of 5x8 Coda, and in the beginning of the coda of 5x8 Coda, meaning we saw it before Beth “died” and immediately after. The magazine was “Rattle & Roll” which, judging from the aesthetic of the cover design, we can plausibly interpret as a nod to the actual Rolling Stone magazine, which we now know is a resurrection reference.
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Here’s a close-up of Rattle and Roll, compare it to the fake Rolling Stone cover:
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I had already started overthinking this scene in 2x5 because of the incredible dialogue between Laurent and Daryl. Daryl talks about how he found a guitar in a trunk, Laurent is worried that Daryl will be alone in France while he, Carol and Ash travel to America (because there’s not enough room for four people on the plane).
Daryl explains that he’s been alone before, a lot. That’s a reference to 4x13 Alone. Daryl says it’s only temporary, while Laurent worries it might be for eternity. Again, basically describing the plot of Alone. Then Daryl goes on and says “go ahead, play something, which of course is exactly what he said to Beth in 4x13 Alone:
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The entire season is full of these types of dialogue parallels and Beth callbacks.
Because the whole scene opened with the image of Laurent blowing seeds off a dandelion, I was already in the process of researching that, and as always, etymology is my go-to method for initial searches:
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Upon learning that dandelion is a reference to a lion’s teeth, I googled that to see what came up, and well…what a tremendous coincidence it is that…
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…The Mountain Goats, the same band that sang the song “Up The Wolves” that played at the end of 4x12 Still, happens to have a song called “Lions Teeth”!!! A tremendous coincidence indeed!
I’ve highlighted some of the lyrics that seem particularly pertinent for TD, such as mentions of sleeping in cars and “Hold On” which is a theme we’ve seen throughout the years, not least in season 3 when Beth sang Tom Waits’ “Hold On” in the prison.
And the coincidence gets even more impressive when you learn that these two songs are actually from the same album, The Sunset Tree from 2005! And as if that’s not enough, the two songs follow each other directly on the album. It’s almost as though they’re linked…?
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So, to my knowledge, songs from the Mountain Goats have been referenced three times in TWDU. First, "Up The Wolves" was used in Still, as we all know. Second, a song called "Love Love Love", from the same album (The Sunset Tree) was used in FTWD 4x8 No One’s Gone. It’s a very “death and resurrection” oriented episode, in that it is the episode when Madison “died” only to later “resurrect”.
And now, with Laurent and the dandelion/Lion’s teeth flower, we have a roundabout reference to the song that directly follows “Up The Wolves” on the album The Sunset Tree, "Lion’s Teeth". This might not in and of itself be a massive deal, but together with everything else, it’s seems like it definitely could be part of a pattern. It seems like no matter what goes on on the surface of this show this season, there’s a multitude of Beth callbacks and dialogue parallels (and in this case musical references) tied to Beth lurking right beneath the surface.
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So I’m thinking, when Daryl sings “You can’t always get what you want” and it seems to be breaking his heart, the subtext is about Beth.
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v3nusxsky · 1 year ago
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OMG YES PLEASE! Beauty Bar chapter 2! 🥺❤️
Pretty please? I don’t want to make a specific request, bc I really wanna see what you planned for it!
Beautiful| nsfw
*Authors note~ a long awaited part two for Bar Beauty, I love this so much and I hope you guys love it just as much as I do*
Triggers warnings~ KNIFE KINK (don't read If it isn't your thing) mistress kink, dom Leo sub r sex slave? R is a stripper sorry not sorry Humiliation degrading praise strap on, oral, sex toys, semi public sex blindfold kink biting kink? Breeding kink safe words
Prompt~ see ask^^^^
✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~previously~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You were left to rock slightly until you naturally stopped. Then she lowered you to the sofa before scooping up your body and taking you into a private room. There she cleaned you up and got you food and water before sitting down to give you whatever physical attention you needed. The start of a beautiful relationship, bloomed from that one night at Happy Hours.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
From that night on, you became her submissive. She explained how she wasn't truly looking for anything but a way to blow off steam and that was fine for you. A recent rough break up meant you weren't ready to give your heart to another when you were still trying to undo what hurt you. With Leonora being in charge of one of the houses at her boarding school, she had long work hours, which is mainly where she'd call you too. The staff in charge of the houses had their own apartment next to the school but far enough away to provide them with privacy. They were staff not slaves. The contact she had you sign meant you'd be at her beck and call no matter what you were doing. Even your job would be put on hold if she desired you to. In fact your job was something Leo wasn't truly thrilled about but you had every right to strip as you weren't taken. You weren't hers.
At first she was content like that, simple encounters in her apartment and into her office, where you'd be knelt under her desk eating all her stress away or perhaps she would have you spread on her desk as she absolutely ruined your cunt with her cum filled strap on. Taunting you about how vocal you are, "god your such a whore, bet you want everyone out their to hear how good your mistress fucks you huh? I know you do. Nothing more than my little slutty slave." Truly, you look so innocent until she gets you in her office and your nothing more than a desperate whore. It's one of the many things she loves, no she likes, about you.
She let this whole song and dance go on for months, you'd be called to see her excited but anxious for what lay in store, and you'd leave covered in marks and bruises by her. She reminded you often, she did it to mark what was hers. You are hers even if you don't know it yet. Marking you before you would head to the club and strip for money. Again only adding to her point, you like to whore yourself out so you would need constant reminders of who you belong to. Little did she know, you would hide a few with makeup to appease your boss. And the ones that could be hidden by the little clothing that you wore was for your eyes and hers only.
The night it happened you were truly were having an awful night, your last client had gotten pretty handsy. Immediately making you uncomfortable resulting in him being thrown out spewing hateful words. It wasn't hidden that you were a lesbian who didn't mind stripping for males to look but touching was a no go. Practically a tease, apart from the women you'd allow back for a private session which would end up leaving you rather satisfied. Well before you met Leonora at happy hours. In fact you hadn't heard from your domains in a few days and you desperately wanted to get the fell of his hands off you. You had one last set to do before you could leave for the night, which meant you could find the best way to get rid of the feeling. Perhaps she'd call you tonight.
Half way through your set you noticed the fiery curls. The beat dropped allowing you to lean forward exposing more of your cleavage to the prying eyes, when you saw her piercing stormy eyes and you knew, that was how you'd be getting out of her safely. Shooting her a wink you continued and collect your tips before sauntering off the stage where she was waiting to drag you with her. Which she did and you truly had no complaints about it.
It's all hazy how she took you to one of the private back rooms, but you do remember the feeling of her slamming your back to the wall roughly as her lips made their home on your slender neck. A kind of animalistic growl sounded against your neck when she realised you'd covered her big purple mark that resided over your pulse point. Her pearly white teeth nipped at the sensitive skin just enough to give the pleasure mixed with pain that she knew you craved so much. "What a fucking whore, covering mistresses mark on you so those men out there think your a free agent" she growled, "you aren't. You're my slave, my fuck toy, my whore to use and abuse. And you'll remember that by the time I'm done with you."
"I'm sorry mistress, I'm yours please, whatever you need" you whimpered causing the red head to lash out and grab a fistful of your hair and drag you to the sofa in the room before she took her tie and wrapped it round your head to cover your eyes. "Oh I will, and you'll take everything I give you, no complaints. All I wanna hear is those slutty moans you do as I ruin you again and again" she murmured into your ear before nipping the lobe and shoving you away from her body so you lay flat on your back now.
You could hear every article of clothing she took off, drop to the floor with a thud. An innate whine left your being as you realised she'd be on full display now, however all it got you was a smack t the face, "quit your whining you little bitch, that's all you are is a dumb bitch in head that Mistress can use" tears pricked lay your covered eyes at her words, but the waterfall between your legs showed a different story. "Dirty girl, enjoying when I put you down, practically leaking out of that pathetic hole." She whispered before lightly tapping your clit just enough to drive you insane and clambered onto your face.
There is no better smell than her. Instantly you began to eat her out in the way she loves, not too soft but not too rough either. You made sure to give attention to her clit and when she was ready you plunged your tongue into her cunt to scoop out all the juices she made for you only. "God yes! Right there slut! Yes yes yes, don't stop! Don't fucking stop. I don't care if you can't breathe make me cum now!" Her demands faltering slightly due to her hips bucking at just the right angle to cause your nose to bump her clit.  Her legs quivered with how hard she came all over your face, yet you still greedily drank everything she offered you and cleaned her up as good as you could possibly do. Only then when she was sure her legs wouldn't give out did she reach into her pocket.
"What the fuck?" You yelped out in surprise and fear of the unknown, all you knew was the sensation of cold metal pressed against your bare thigh. A quick slap to your thigh with the knife had you gasping in shock once more. "Shut up slut, you want to hide my bruises, even when they look so pretty on your skin, then I'll give you something you can't hide." You knew by her tone she wasn't joking but you also knew you could safe word out of this. It was something you wanted to try yes, but never did you think she would do this to you now and here. She teasingly trailed the point of the knife along your skin for a little while, loving the little gasps you were so poorly trying to hide from her now.
Only when your tears were flowing nicely, did she throw the knife away, "oh don't cry doll, you look so beautiful all smeared im crimson and crying for me love."  Light overwhelmed you for a second as she ripped the tie from your head, rapidly blinking you could see your own blood smeared over your thighs causing you to drop your head back a little dizzily. "Now you fucking stay there or else I will not be responsible for what happens to this slutty body of mine."
A simple nod of understanding had your thong being torn from your absolutely soaked cunt and stuffed into your mouth. "Non verbal cue whore" was all she offered before reaching into her pocket to pull a litre vibrating toy out to attach it to your poor clit. Despite everything you had some fight still left in you, causing you to spit the thong out and bite back, "is that how you give detentions Leonora?" You knew it was risky but you didn't know just how badly
That one comment would affect the red headed woman.
Calmly she picked up the discarded underwear and shoved it back into your mouth, adding more pressure than before causing you to gag around them. "Don't you ever fucking try that stunt again, dumb girl, now I'm gonna have to fuck you with that little friend over there" she nodded to her discarded knife causing your eyes to go wide in fear. That was gonna hurt you. It was an empty threat, you knew that. Yet it was still effective and you immediately stilled your body as you tried to remind yourself of your position, gagging prettily round the make shift gag, "I'll be good! I'm msorry please" over and over until she took pitty on you inserting two of her slender fingers into your eager cunt.
From there she brought you over the edge time and time again until suddenly it was all too much causing you to make a fist and shove it in her line of sight. The older woman recognising it instantly and immediately stopping what she was doing and gently removing her fingers from you and your gag. There you lay on the sofa, eyes rolled back your head and blood poured from some gashed Leonora didn't even remember making. Water poured over her inferno of jealousy allowed her to see the marks from her but also the man earlier in the evening. "Oh I'm sorry y/n, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to go to far. Wake up my darling, wake up" she pleaded with your unconscious body. Guilt now eating her up as she instantly looked around the room for items to tend to your wounds. Thankfully there was just that, and she patched you up murmuring words of praise and reassurance.
When you groggily came back around from the blackness you immediately called out for the red head. "Shh I'm here sweetheart, I've got you. I'm sorry my darling." Her gaze once again finding the new marks that aren't hers, "who did that?" You explained how it wasn't your fault, you didn't want him touching you and that you got him thrown out, but still Leo's heart clenched. "Quit" was all she offered you, "but I- I can't just quit I have bills to play and-" she shook her head taking her hands in yours, "quit y/n and come be with me?" A silence fell over you both before you said no, "not as a sex slave y/n as my partner" she clarified for you. "Like together? A relationship?"
"Yes, with me, I don't want to share you, I don't want you being hurt, when I saw you in Happy Hours I knew I wanted you to be mine. I just wasn't ready to admit it until now, I do really love you darling, and you're all I want." She allowed you moments to collect your thoughts. "A date first?, if all goes well I quit and we give it a go" you concluded causing the redhead to nod and shuffle to cuddle behind you. "Rest here, when your ready I'll drop you home, be ready 7 pm tomorrow for our date my dove." Happy Hours really was the start of something beautiful here, even if it took her too long to realise it.
Word count~ 2186
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multifandomfanfic · 2 years ago
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could you do something where ronaldo is your ex and you broke up because he cheated but he saw you with another man at a party and he got really jealous??
Cold Air
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Word Count: ~2.2k
A/N: I hope you enjoy! Sorry this took so long and sorry if any descriptions of Qatar are inaccurate. Just suspend reality for a bit :)) (also, I proof-read this, but it hasn’t had a second pair of eyes look at it)
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The city lights passed by your car as you made your way to the club. The World Cup was in full swing and, today, Portugal had beaten Switzerland by five goals. You wrinkled your nose. Portugal. As good of a team they were, any mention of their team, and especially a certain player, left a foul taste on your tongue. 
It wasn't like you didn't love Ronaldo. You did.., well, you had loved him at one point. Months ago you had been positive your relationship was going to last forever; you were living together, you went with him to his events, and you were even certain you had spied an engagement ring in his bag once. All of that was squashed within seconds thanks to Ronaldo’s unlocked phone and a few Instagram DMs. 
Within days, you had moved out of your shared house and into an apartment far away from Manchester. Ronaldo agreed to pay the first year of your rent in return for you not going public about his infidelity, but you took the high road. You did not need his help and, after what he did to you, you decided that you did not want to have any connection to him any longer. Enough was enough.
But here you were, in Qatar, the day his team beat the Swiss.
Your phone vibrated and you dug it out of your purse. 
I'll have to leave a little early tonight, Emi texted you.
What? Why?
Coach wants us to get at least eight hours of sleep before some extra practice in the morning. He explained, I'm free to do whatever you want tomorrow night.
You groaned and slumped back into the car seat. Great. Just great. The only reason you were going to this club was to celebrate Emi’s friend’s birthday, whom you had never met. In fact, you hardly knew anybody on his team. You had spent so much time with Portugal and Manchester United that you hadn’t become acquainted with any of the other teams. Besides, you had only been seeing Emi for a couple of months. 
“Is this it?” your driver asked. 
“Yes, this is it,” you sighed. The cold night air raised goosebumps on your skin as soon as you pushed open the door. It was refreshing and briefly distracted your mind from the awkwardness awaiting you inside.
The bouncer opened the rope as you approached. The club’s exterior was lit by LED lights, beckoning people to venture inside. Quite a crowd had amounted outside, drawn by the possibility of seeing a world-class futball player in person. They watched you as you entered the building. Who were you? And why were you here?
The interior of the bar was as exuberant and bright as the exterior. The only difference was the number of people crammed within its walls. Bodies were pressed against each other, moving to the music blaring from the speakers. Two bartenders were hurriedly making drinks for the growing crowd. They had been instructed to prioritize the futball players and serve them first, but they were struggling to keep up with that demand.
You scanned the throngs of people. One or two of the men close to you looked familiar, but the lights were set just dim enough that you couldn’t distinguish people from a distance. Their forms blended into one, swaying mass.
Person after person bumped and shoved you (whether on accident or on purpose, you couldn’t tell) as you forged your way to the bar. Surely, there were too many people in the club to be safe, but nobody paid attention. They were all having fun. You were the walking embodiment of dread.
You tugged on the end of your dress. It wasn’t yours–one of the players’ girlfriends had lent it to you–and it wasn’t exactly your taste either. The color was off and it fell awkwardly on your thighs. Anyone who knew you would know the dress was not your first choice. 
“Excuse me?” you asked the bartender closest to you, “Can I get one of those?”
The mixture of alcohol he was making was taking all of his attention, and he made no effort to respond. You groaned, leaned against the bartop, and began people-watching. There was no sight of Ronaldo or Emi. You weren’t expecting Ronaldo to be there, but you could never be too sure. 
“Y/N!” a familiar voice called from behind you.
You turned around and smiled, “Emi!” 
He pushed his way through the crowd, nodding and grinning at his friends. You recognized none of them, despite going to many of Emi’s games. Maybe you were too stuck in the past.
Once he reached you, Emi grabbed your waist and pulled you towards him. 
“It’s so good to see you,” he said, leaning over slightly and began kissing your neck. Several people’s eyes landed on the two of you. 
“Babe, please,” you whispered, “Not in public.”
He stepped back, “Why not?”
“I just don’t feel comfortable with it, ok?” you replied. To be honest, you had no idea why it made you so uneasy. People looking at you was one thing, but something else was off.
Emi smirked and loosened his grip on your waist, “Fine. But I will be seeing you tomorrow night.”
“It’s a date,” you chuckled. He left you one more kiss on your lips as he started to back away. He smiled and nodded his head goodbye. Before you knew it, Emi had disappeared into the mass of people.
The bartender continued to pay attention to other patrons, leaving you drinkless and bored. There was a full-length mirror behind the back of the bar. You examined yourself in it, rubbing off the lipstick that had made its way off of your lips and adjusting your hair so it fell just right on your face. A figure began to form behind you. Someone was making their way to the spot to your left. The way the lights were positioned and flashing, you could not tell who it was.. that is, until they spoke.
He ordered two of your favorite drink and, like clockwork, the bartender had them finished within seconds.
“You look good,” he almost mumbled as he took the first sip from his drink. His eyes scanned your figure, soaking in every aspect of how the dress fell on your body. You could have slapped him, “Although, I wouldn’t peg you as the type of girl to wear something like that.”
“What do you want, Ronaldo?” you spat. His face changed for a moment at the use of his last name instead of Cristiano–what you used to call him–but, within seconds, it was back to his usual, sly look. On the other hand, you could feel your face turning red. Months of pent-up rage and regret flooded back into your head. Why had you come here? Why did he have to be here?
“You haven’t changed a bit,” he said as you picked up your drink. You slammed it back down on the counter. A little sloshed over the edge and the bartender immediately wiped it with his towel. He scowled at you but smiled at Ronaldo. You pushed the glass to the farthest point on the bar that you could reach. You refused to drink it. That would make it seem like you were diving in.
“I asked you what you wanted,” you seethed, arms crossed across your chest, “Can you answer my question?”
He rolled his eyes and looked around as if you were the only person in the room who did not know what he was going to say. He then leaned closer, “You could do much better than an Argentinian. That’s all I wanted to say.”
You froze. Your mouth hung agape, your mind was apparently empty of any good comebacks. After a moment you managed a “Are you kidding me?” and a small, all-too-exaggerated laugh. The audacity this man had. He cheated on you, not the other way around. 
“Do you think I’m joking? I’m just stating the obvious, darling,” Ronaldo smirked. He leaned against the bar, drink in hand. Triumph was written all over his face. 
You pulled out twenty dollars from your purse and slammed it onto the bar to cover your drink. You stood up straight, staring your adversary in the eyes. 
“I’m done with your bullshit, Ronaldo. Do I need to remind you whose fault it was that we broke up? It wasn’t me!,” you shouted just loud enough so the people closest to you could hear, “Have a good life.”
You stormed past him, purposely bumping into his shoulder on the way to the back. Your feet carried you past the mob of bodies. Instead of annoying you, they acted to your benefit, creating an almost impenetrable sea for Ronaldo to cross to get to you. You made it to the back exit swiftly and, without hesitating, escaped the room.
The chilly air greeted you like an old friend. Your dress was hardly enough to keep you warm, but it didn’t matter. Compared to the inside of the bar and its patrons, it felt more friendly and calm in the frigid night.
You pulled out your phone and started searching for an Uber to take you home. You began walking down the alleyway, enveloped in the screen in front of you rather than paying attention to your surroundings. That was why you nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt a cold hand grab a hold of your arm.
You whipped around and tried to strike the attacker with your bag but, after a moment, you saw that it was none other than Ronaldo. Despite recognizing him, you still managed to hit him with your purse. You ripped your arm from his grasp and backed up. You weren’t truly scared of him, not at all, but he repulsed you so much that you wanted to distance yourself from him as much as you possibly could.
“What the hell are you doing?!” you exclaimed.
“Y/N, listen to m–”
“No, tell me what you think you’re doing!”
“I don’t know what I–” he stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly and shifting his weight.
“You don’t know what you’re do–”
“Y/N, would you just listen to me, please?!” Ronaldo finally begged. He stood with his arms extended to you, silently pleading with you to let him speak, “Please?”
You checked your phone and then crossed your arms, “You have two minutes, Ronaldo, then I never want to see you again.”
“That’s fine, that’s perfect,” he took a step back. He looked at the sky as he took a deep breath. The stars were shining down on the two of you, illuminating the alleyway just enough that you could see Ronaldo’s breath and the sweat dripping down his face. What was bothering him so much?
He sighed, exasperated with his own thoughts, “Y/N, I.. you know I love you right?”
You did not reply, nod, or shake your head. You kept your eyes glued on him but, on the inside, your stomach was turning. This conversation could lead nowhere good. In the months since your break-up, you had thought about getting back together plenty of times. Yet, in reality, you could never let yourself do that. He cheated on you once. He had broken your trust. That could not happen again.
“I know you do. And I know, I hope, that deep down you still love me,” Ronaldo continued, trying to get any reaction out of you, but none came, “I will never love another woman as much as I love you. You were the light of my life, the thing that made me smile every single day without fail. You enchant me, Y/N,  and I went and screwed everything up. Will you forgive me?”
You scoffed, your arms only crossing tighter in front of your chest, “Don’t give me this ‘I love you most ardently’-esque crap. You cheated on me, Ronaldo. I have proof!”
“And I regret it every day! Y/N, you don’t understand how much I’ve beat myself up over this. I love you! You make me happy!”
“Ronaldo, if I really made you happy, frankly, we would not be in this situation right now,” you said, pursing your lips. You shrugged, “I am sorry, but I can’t forgive you.”
With that, a grey sedan drove to the end of the alleyway behind you. You checked the description on your phone–it was your ride.
“That’s me,” you said. The amount of water vapor in front of Ronaldo’s mouth only increased as he grew angrier and more confused. His mind was running, trying to find some solution to have you back, or to get you to at least forgive him, but he could not find one.
“Can you at least call me Cristiano?” he finally called out as you started to walk away.
You turned around. After a moment, you nodded, and made eye contact with him once more, “Alright, Cristiano. As I said earlier, I hope you have a good life.”
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bellaxgiornata · 1 year ago
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Safe Haven [Chapter Twelve]
Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader Word Count: 6.6k [Series Masterlist]
Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains violence, drug use, domestic abuse, smut, hurt/comfort, angst, mutual pining, friends to lovers
a/n: This is a long one where we finally get their first date! And there's angst at the end of it, too... Also big thanks to @loveroftoomanyfandoms for figuring out what Michael is actually reading in Kin! Feedback is always appreciated!
Tag list: @loveroftoomanyfandoms @farfromstrange @rotscinema @1988-fiend @shouldbestudying41 @shiorimakibawrites @norestfortheshelbywicked @mattmurdocksstarlight @acharliecoxedfan @roseallisonparker @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @theetherealbloom @24hflower @mattmurdocksscars @schneeflocky @the-nursery @lionalsowrites
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Drawing the warm ceramic mug to your lips, you drank down more of your vanilla latte. The hot liquid was surprisingly not too sweet, the bold taste of the roast actually coming through as it passed over your tongue. You decided you liked this coffee shop, and not just because it was now going to hold the memory of your first date with Michael, but they apparently knew how to make a good cup of coffee. 
Across from you at the table, Michael’s fingers were tapping against the side of his steaming mug of coffee, his chin resting in the palm of his other hand. His eyes were locked on yours, crinkles forming at the corners of them and that dimple visible just beneath his beard on his right cheek. He sat there silently, continuing to simply smile at you. 
He had just been contentedly watching you as if that alone was enough for him for the past couple of minutes. You swore if he kept looking at you like he’d been doing ever since you’d both sat down, you’d end up throwing yourself over the small table separating the pair of you and crushing your mouth to his. Just that look of enraptured interest he had for you so plainly written across his face was alone increasing your arousal–or maybe it had just been vastly too long since either of you had last had sex. Either way, you were getting turned on and you could feel the sexual tension increasing to a palpable level in the air around the pair of you. Didn’t matter that you were both in public in a coffee shop and Michael was wearing a bulletproof vest under his sweater and jacket. Somehow that only added to your increasing desire.
“You just going to stare at me for the duration of this date?” you asked him, lowering the mug back to the table and wrapping both of your hands around it. “Or do you actually want to talk to me?”
Michael chuckled, that intense look of fondness never leaving his face. “Well I have a beautiful woman sittin’ across from me, and it’s quite early in the mornin’. Maybe I’m a bit distracted?” he teased.
That also didn’t help you control the desire to jump him publicly.
“Laying it on thick, I see,” you joked, unable to fight the smile on your own mouth.
“Well I told ya it may be a bit before I can take ya on another proper date again,” he explained. “And it did take me two times to get ya to say yes to me to begin with.” He shrugged. “Maybe I just want to make sure it won’t take ya six times before ya say yes next time?”
You laughed, surprised at how funny he actually was when you got a little bit past the awkward, brooding, mysterious exterior. Shaking your head at him, your eyes dropped down to the mug of coffee before you. On your walk to the coffee shop this morning Michael had been noticeably more comfortable with you than he had been the last time the pair of you had taken a walk together. Although there had unfortunately been no kissing or hand holding, he had somehow still managed to slip in a bit of overt flirting despite the main topic of conversation. 
As you’d both walked to the shop for your date, Michael had been explaining how he really shouldn’t be out of his house because of the feud that had been started between his family and their supplier–this Eamon character that Birdy had initially accused you of getting close to Michael for the Serpents for. Apparently anyone selling for Eamon that had a gun was going to be on the lookout for a Kinsella or anyone working with the family. There had been a very high bounty put on Michael’s head and it wasn’t exactly safe for him to be out–even in public. Which didn’t exactly surprise you, considering how he’d walked into a crowded bar himself a few nights ago and shot the man who’d been responsible for Jamie’s death. But Michael had repeatedly assured you the bounty was still such early news that there wasn’t a high risk of anyone tailing him yet. He’d made sure no one was before he’d come to get you from your sister’s this morning. 
To you, it sounded like this feud was more of a war. Especially with the way he was wearing a bulletproof vest under his clothes and occasionally scanning out the window to make sure no one suspicious was watching the pair of you. He’d even intentionally picked a table near a back exit in case the pair of you needed to bolt, and he’d positioned himself so he could keep an eye on the door and still be between you and it. Which was a detail you hadn’t missed. 
“So you’re a writer, yeah?” he asked. 
His question drew your eyes back up from your mug and to his face. He’d sat up straighter in his chair now, his chin no longer resting in his palm. You watched as he drew his mug to his lips, your eyes momentarily distracted by the movement–and his mouth. It had been too long since you’d last had the opportunity to kiss him, and you really had wanted to pick up where you’d left off the other morning.
“Yeah, I am,” you answered, your eyes finally meeting his again.
“What’s that like?” he asked next.
You shrugged a shoulder, mulling over the question. “It’s nice, I suppose,” you told him. “I get to work from wherever I want–clearly,” you said, shooting him a small smile to which he returned. “Other than making deadlines there’s not too much daily stress during the writing part of things. I mean, besides the pressure I put on myself to actually, you know, write.”
Michael chuckled, leaning his elbows onto the table as he drew himself closer towards you. “And what exactly do you write about?” he questioned.
“I uh, have a series about a family,” you began awkwardly, your eyes dropping down to your coffee mug. “And they do…nefarious things to make money.” 
“Such as…?” he prompted curiously.
“Drug trafficking,” you answered, eyes still averted. “Money laundering. Blackmail. Murder.”
“Well that’s…rather dark,” he mused.
Your eyes slid up towards his, one of your brows arching back at him. The corner of his lip twitched upwards in response.
“I am aware of the irony,” he replied, grinning. “I take it ya took inspiration from your life?”
“Something like that,” you admitted. 
Michael’s dark brows pulled together on his forehead, a crease forming between them. “I’m surprised your ex-fiance allowed that. He knew that’s what ya wrote ‘bout?”
Nodding, you drew your mug back up to your lips for another drink. You swallowed down the coffee before you answered.
“He knew,” you simply said. “My sister had actually gotten in with one of the Serpents back in the day–before I’d ever met Victor. He’d gone by the nickname Lucky. He actually had epilepsy and was the reason why I knew what to do that other night when I…met you.”
“Mmm,” Michael hummed out, his gaze still intently watching you. “Wondered 'bout that.”
Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, your eyes dropped back down to your nervously fidgeting hands. Your fingers began to drum along the ceramic mug as you spoke; you didn’t particularly like to think about the outlaw MC.
“I’d started writing the series back then,” you told him. “My sister and I, we didn’t exactly have a great childhood. I’d stayed behind and forwent college just to make sure she’d been safe and taken care of until she graduated. I worked two jobs just trying to pay the bills while our mom just…” you slowly trailed off, shaking your head. “But Megan she–she fell for Lucky when he was still a prospect for the Serpents, right before she graduated high school. She was really serious about him. And I started hearing these stories–in the news and from my sister–and I just…I don’t know, I started writing,” you finished lamely with a shrug.
“So ya published them before ya met your ex?” Michael asked.
“The first one, yeah,” you said, your focus returning to his curious face. “The series name The Road to Hell was a quiet nod to the Serpents of Hell MC. Even though it's not actually about a motorcycle club and doesn’t specifically mention any real crimes they committed–because I’m not an idiot and wasn’t trying to get myself killed. But I was apparently good at it. At writing. And I needed the money because a high school education wasn’t getting me shit. So my publisher picked it up. They loved it and contracted me for more and well, that’s what I do, I guess.”  
“I’m assumin’ somethin’ happened to this Lucky considerin’ Megan isn’t with him now?” Michael asked.
“Killed,” you answered with a nod. “He’s the reason why Megan went to school to become a nurse.”
Michael frowned at your response. “’M sorry to hear that.”
You shrugged, bringing your coffee back to your mouth for another drink. Swallowing the warm liquid down, you eyed his handsome face across the table from you. This wasn't exactly what you wanted to talk about. 
“Not a very light topic for a date,” you mused as you lowered the mug. “Why don’t you tell me something about yourself? Something not depressing unlike what I just told you.”
A small smile returned to Michael’s face, one of his hands sliding across the wooden table towards yours. He reached up, gripping onto your right hand and pulling it away from your coffee mug down to the table with his. The gesture instantly stilled your nervous fidgeting, your eyes dropping down to watch as he slowly entwined his fingers with yours. Your heart beat a little harder in your chest.
“What d’ya want to know?” he asked.
Eyes slowly making their way up towards his face, you felt your breath coming in shallower. That look from earlier had returned to his face, and in turn, so had your previous state of arousal.
How fast can I get you home and in my bed?
Bottom lip slipping between your teeth, you tried hard to fight that question from accidentally falling out of your mouth. Michael’s gaze had inevitably dropped down to where you were chewing your lip, his own tongue slowly sliding out to wet his lips as his eyes lingered.
If you didn’t get ahold of yourself soon you’d be dragging him out the back door behind you and seeing how far you could get with him before your mind brought reason back to you. And as tempting as that sounded, that’s not what you were doing here. Blinking hard a few times, your eyes darted out of the window beside you, trying to break whatever trance his eyes had somehow put you into again.
“I don’t know,” you said with a shrug. “Any hobbies?”
Michael huffed out a laugh, the sound catching your attention again. He was shaking his head as he raised his mug to his lips with his other hand. You watched as his throat bobbed while he drank the coffee down, your tongue running along the back of your teeth as you shifted in your seat, all too aware of the heat from his hand wrapped around yours.
“Ya know where I’ve been the past eight years, yeah?” he asked, lowering his mug back to the table. “Didn’ exactly have the opportunity for hobbies.”
“Okay,” you said slowly. “So you go back home after this and then you do what? Sit on your sofa and stare into the void? There’s got to be something you enjoy.”
He chuckled as his hand not holding yours rose up to scratch at his beard. Your left hand curled around your mug, desperately trying to ignore the way your fingers itched to feel the rasp of it beneath them. 
“So I’m goin’ home alone after this?” Michael teased. “That what you’re sayin’?”
Your own brows rose onto your forehead, lips parting in surprise as you gaped back at him. “I–I wasn’t saying that, exactly,” you stammered out.
A slow smile spread along Michael’s mouth, his hand rubbing along his chin as he continued to watch you from across the table. There was definitely some sort of look in his eye, something that had your pulse at a consistent, increased pace again.
“I enjoy readin’,” he said. “‘M not really into watchin’ shows, but I read.”
It took you a moment to realize he was answering your question about his hobbies. But as you sat across from him, your coffee almost finished, you’d found your brain was still stuck on one thing. Shifting again in your seat, you tried hard to focus on the conversation and not how badly you wanted the man you were talking to. The fact that he enjoyed reading was only adding to his attractiveness.
“And uh, what exactly do you like to read?” you asked, the question coming out unintentionally a little breathless.
Michael seemed to catch the change in your tone, his head tilting to the side as he quietly studied you for a moment. You bit the inside of your cheek, fighting to keep yourself from inviting him back to your place right here and now. Though it was beginning to feel like a losing battle. You felt like you might combust if you sat here much longer with him staring at you like that and you pretending like you weren’t dying to do more than just talk.
Clearing your throat, you tried to shove those thoughts away again. 
"Actually, let me guess," you began, trying to focus on the conversation. "You don't seem like you'd be into horror and suspense."
"Get enough o' that in my life already," Michael agreed, nodding.
Your eyes narrowed as you examined him closely. "Not romance, either. Or science fiction," you ruled out, noticing the way his smile grew. "Nonfiction?"
Michael shrugged a shoulder. "Dependin' on the topic, yeah."
Becoming interested in this guessing game, you rested your elbow on the table and leaned forward, your right hand still entwined with his. Michael copied the gesture, that flicker of something still in his eyes, his mouth seemingly permanently drawn up into a grin as he lessened the gap between the pair of you at the table.
"Historical fiction?" you asked.
"On occasion," he replied huskily. 
Pressing your lips together, you wondered how the hell he was making this conversation so hot. The way he’d gripped your hand a bit firmer in his wasn’t helping.
"Mmm, not a mystery reader," you continued, watching as he shook his head. "Classic lit?"
Michael’s grin widened further. "I enjoy some, yeah," he answered. 
Resting your chin in your hand, your index finger absently tapped against your lips as you thought. You only became aware of the gesture when Michael’s eyes dropped down, staring at your mouth yet again. That's when you'd intentionally began running your finger back and forth along your bottom lip slowly, enjoying the way his eyes followed the movement. Apparently you weren't the only one thinking about that right now.
"I'm guessing you're not into bodice rippers," you teased, intentionally directing the conversation towards sex.
Michael’s brows shot up onto his forehead, his eyes returning to yours. "Bodice rippers?" he asked with a laugh. "Is that what I'm thinkin' it is?"
You grinned, nodding. "Yeah, you know, smut. Those books with the overly buff men on the cover and a woman who's heaving bosom looks like it's about to pop out of her top?"
Michael cracked up, his eyes creasing as he tried to contain his laughter. "No Grace," he answered, his shoulders shaking with his barely contained mirth, "I can't say that I read… bodice rippers . But now ya got me wonderin' if you do."
A large smile drew wide across your own face. "Oh I have an entire series of them I wrote," you told him enthusiastically, fighting down your own laughter when his mouth dropped open in shock. "About a pirate and a virgin–well, I guess she's not a virgin anymore. Not with everything they've done with the buried treasure they've found…"
Michael continued to gawk at you from across the table and you swore you saw pink tinge his cheeks. When you saw him struggling to form a coherent thought, you burst into a laugh. 
"I'm kidding," you assured him. "I don't have a smutty series about a pirate–but I bet you I’d make a fortune if I did."
He visibly relaxed in his seat, a laugh falling out of him. "Ya definitely had me there," he said. "Wasn't sure if ya were serious and how I was s'posed to respond to that."
"Yeah, I could tell," you said with a laugh of your own. "Pretty sure I made you blush, Mr. Kinsella."
His hand squeezed yours as he chuckled again, his eyes falling back down to his mug. “I don’ know ‘bout that,” he muttered.
“So what are you reading?” you asked him finally. 
“Currently?” he asked, continuing when you nodded. “ East of Eden.”
Eyebrows raising onto your forehead, you hummed out a curious noise. The corner of his lip twitched.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing,” you said innocently with a shrug. “You seem like you’d read Steinbeck is all.”
His eyes narrowed playfully at you. "And what's that s'posed to mean?" he asked.
"That you should probably find something lighter to read," you teased. 
You picked up your coffee mug and downed the rest of your latte, enjoying the bemused expression on Michael’s face as he watched you. Setting the empty mug back onto the table, your eyes dropped back down to your enjoined hands. His thumb suddenly brushed a light stroke across your knuckles and you felt that excited, giddy feeling wash over you. Yet again you found yourself wishing you weren't in a public setting.
“D’ya want another coffee?” he asked, head gesturing to your now empty mug.
“Actually,” you began slowly, eyes gradually returning to his face, “Do you…maybe want to head back?”
Something flickered across his face at your question, an expression so fleeting you barely just caught it before you saw him quickly control his reaction. He cleared his throat, picking up his almost empty mug of coffee, his focus on the remaining liquid as he spoke.
“Already wantin’ an end to this date?” he asked.
“I was thinking more like…moving the date back to my place?” you suggested. “Megan isn’t home and well, you wouldn’t have to keep glancing out the window and being on edge.”
“If that’s what ya would like to do,” he said casually, his eyes still almost nervously avoiding yours as he downed the rest of his coffee.
“And is that what you would like to do?” you questioned back.
Michael paused, his gaze very gradually drawing up from his mug to meet yours. That flicker of something was in his eyes again as he stared back at you for a moment. You felt a heat rising up to your cheeks, but not from embarrassment this time. You wanted to see where this was going to go, and you certainly weren’t thinking about stopping things like last time.
“I’d like that, yeah,” he eventually answered.
You tried to fight back the smile on your lips as Michael released your hand finally, grabbing your empty coffee cup along with his and telling you that he’d take care of them. Your eyes lingered on Michael’s back as he stepped away to deposit them on a nearby cart. Rising from your own chair, you slipped your jacket back on and mentally prepared to face the chilly morning air that seemed to be a constant in Dublin. 
When Michael had made his way back to you, your heart skipped in your chest at the sight of his offered hand. Eagerly you slipped yours into it, smiling when you saw his own smile light up his entire face. He led the pair of you out of the coffee shop, his head darting around looking out the shop windows as he walked, clearly keeping an eye out for anyone who looked suspicious. 
He’d held the door of the shop open for you, only releasing the hold he had on your hand to do so until you were outside on the sidewalk. His hand swiftly grasped back onto yours, entwining his fingers through your own when you both fell in step beside each other. Biting your lip, your gaze dropped down to your feet as you walked, your shoulder brushing alongside his with each step. 
For a few minutes the pair of you had walked in comfortable silence, your mind on the things you’d like to do to him back at Megan’s place. Though you found yourself wondering what he was thinking about right now and if it was something along the same lines. 
“I hope–hope ya had a good time,” Michael said nervously, finally breaking the silence.
Your hand squeezed his reassuringly as you glanced at him beside you over your shoulder. His head turned, a small smile on his mouth as he took in the look on your face.
“I did,” you assured him. “Wouldn’t be inviting you back with me if I hadn’t.”
“Quite bold of ya, too,” he mused.
A coy smile spread along your lips in response. “And quite bold of you to assume that’s what I meant,” you countered.
Michael’s expression quickly shifted to something sheepish, his mouth opening and closing for a moment. He looked absolutely adorable as his pace slowed beside you and he grew further flustered.
“Oh, I–I just thought–I mean, you’re right, I shouldn’ have–” he broke off, clearly trying to find the right words.
You laughed, shaking your head and watching his expression slightly relax at the sound. “I did mean that, actually,” you told him. “But you’re cute when you get flustered.”
Michael breathed out a laugh, his head ducking down as his other hand came to rub at the back of his neck. “Don’ think anyone’s called me cute before,” he muttered.
“Well I just did. And I think you are,” you pointed out, eyes still lingering on his handsome face. “Among other things,” you added, the words spilling out of you before you could stop them.
Michael looked up at you from underneath his lashes; there was something undeniably hungry in his eyes as he held you in his stare. That desire you’d been feeling all morning was only steadily growing within you as you saw his eyes scanning your face in the silence that followed, searching for something that you sincerely hoped he found there. But something caught his eye just past your shoulder, his focus shifting as his lips thinned. His expression quickly became serious and your eyes narrowed curiously back at him. 
Michael straightened beside you, his posture going rigid as his head spun forward. His hand tightened around yours as he quickened his pace. You were forced to increase your stride to keep up as he pulled you along beside him. 
“What–”
“Can’ tell if we’re bein’ followed,” he responded in a hushed tone. “Just keep your head down, pet. Act normal. Don' want somethin' happenin' to ya."
Your heart sped up in your chest for a different reason now, adrenaline flooding you at his words. Someone was following you? Someone looking for that bounty on Michael’s head he’d told you about this morning? The familiar cold prickle of fear rose the hairs along the back of your neck, your jaw tensing as you grit your teeth together.
Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted someone on the other side of the street. There was a  black hood pulled up over their head, making it impossible to make out their face. Their hands were stuffed in the pockets of their sweatshirt, but with them so far across the street, you couldn’t tell if there was a gun in one of their pockets or not. It looked as if they had turned their head towards the pair of you across the street before focusing back on the sidewalk before them. 
Were they following Michael then? Here to shoot him and claim the bounty Eamon had put out?
Michael abruptly tugged you sideways, startling you as he pulled you down a small side street. You willingly followed after him, still practically being dragged behind him until he suddenly stopped and turned, grabbing both of your shoulders in his hands. He pushed your back up into the brick wall of the nearby building without warning, a surprised gasp falling out of you at the impact. Michael's arms were soon caging you in between them, the front of him coming to press against the front of you. His face was just inches from yours now, panic and fear written plainly in his eyes as yours met his. 
"Just stay right there, pet. I got ya," he murmured, his left hand moving from off the wall to gently cradle the back of your head, easing it down to rest against his chest. "'M so sorry. Didn' think anyone was followin' us when we left."
You didn't respond, too busy trying to control your own increasing panic. Your hands fisted the material of his sweater as your heart thundered loudly in your own ears. Eyes snapping shut, you tried to focus on the smokey cinnamon scent of him, letting it fill your nose as you buried it further into his chest. Michael pressed himself more firmly to the front of you when you'd exhaled an audible, shuddering breath. 
"'S'alrigh', I got ya," he whispered, his cheek resting along the top of your head, his other hand still firmly cradling the back of your head to him. "Won' let anythin' happen to ya."
Seconds later you felt Michael tense against you, his entire body going rigid as he covered you with himself. Your fingers curled tighter around his sweater, the solid bulletproof vest underneath it reassuring you in this moment that he would be alright–he had to be. You heard his breath catch in his throat with how closely you were burrowed against him as you waited for what felt like the inevitable, tears pricking at your eyes. 
But nothing happened.
The moment felt like it dragged on for minutes, time slowing down, but no gunshot ever rang out. Very slowly Michael raised his head from the top of yours, but he didn't release his hold on you so you remained latched to the front of him. Whoever had been across the street must’ve passed by already now, but Michael was clearly trying to wait them out to make sure they really weren’t about to double back and shoot him. It was a few minutes before he finally broke the silence, your body feeling like it was stuck in a state of panic while you waited. 
"I–I think they're gone," Michael whispered. "Musta been nothin' after all."
His hand on the back of your head gently smoothed down your hair a few times, the comforting feel of it drawing a shudder out of you. Gradually you pulled away from his chest, finally releasing the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Michael was looking down at you, an apologetic smile on his face.
“Ya alrigh’, Grace?” he asked softly. 
Nodding, your hands continued to keep a firm hold to his sweater underneath his open jacket. Michael’s hand on the back of your head slid forward, gently cupping your cheek and tilting your face up towards his. That sorrowful, regretful look was back in his eyes again as they held yours. Your heart continued to beat wildly in your chest from a mixture of the residual fear and adrenaline, along with the admiration at how easily Michael chose to shield you with himself in the heat of the moment. 
“‘M so sorry, Grace,” he repeated. “Fuck, I shouldn’ have taken ya out this mornin’. I didn’ think it’d be a worry today because–”
You lunged forward, closing the brief space between the pair of you and cutting him off when you pressed your mouth to his. Hands releasing the death grip you’d had on his sweater, they came up to grab either side of his face, holding him firmly to you. It took Michael a second to recover from the shock of your action before he was kissing you back, one hand wrapping around the back of your neck and the other gripping your hip. You gasped into his mouth when he pushed you back into the brick wall, his tongue slipping inside when you did. 
You moaned next–a loud, throaty sound that only spurred him on. Michael’s tongue was feverishly lapping at yours, the feeling leaving you breathless as your hands made their way back into his hair, gripping the dark strands firmly in your fists. You didn’t know if it was due to the fear of being shot, the flirty, lustful thoughts you’d been having for the duration of the date, or a combination of the two, but you found yourself needing him. 
Without thinking, completely forgetting that you were still in public, your hips pressed forward into Michael. His tongue slid back out of your mouth, his teeth biting down on your lip and tugging in response. He rumbled out a noise from deep within his chest as he nipped at your lip. You whined at the sound, pulling at his hair and trying to urge him to continue. Releasing your lip from between his teeth, Michael shook his head briefly. The pair of you stood there on the side street, clinging to each other and breathing heavily. 
“Not here,” Michael panted out. 
Eyelids falling shut, your head rolled back against the brick building behind you. He was right, now wasn’t the time. Reluctantly you released the grip you had on his hair, your hands instead coming to land against Michael’s chest. You took a moment, trying to catch your breath and calm your body down–from the kiss and the panic–as you felt both of his hands coming to rest along your hips. You could hear the way he was breathing heavily before you, just as out of breath as you were.  
After a minute you finally opened your eyes, focusing back on him in front of you. Michael’s shoulders were heaving a little less visibly now, one corner of his mouth curling upwards at you. Licking your lips, you tried hard to push those thoughts aside for the duration of the walk back to your place with him. 
“Why don’t we just–just continue this when we get back?” you suggested.
“Probably a better idea,” he agreed. 
Michael extended his hand towards you and you easily slipped your hand back into his. The pair of you made your way down the side street and towards the sidewalk, but Michael had come to a stop just before it, making you wait behind him while he surveyed the area. When he seemed satisfied you were safe, he gave your hand a little tug and the two of you continued on your walk. 
The entire walk back felt like it had taken forever with every flirtatious look the pair of you kept sending each other. You’d both tried to make conversation, but it seemed only one thing was on either of your minds, making it difficult to keep a topic going for long. By the time you’d reached your street, Michael had already convinced you to come back to his place instead because it was always empty, unlike your place where Megan could theoretically show up unexpectedly. 
That was how the pair of you found yourselves once again wrapped around each other. Michael had been reaching for his house key in his pocket to unlock his front door. Unable to wait, you’d grabbed onto the edge of his jacket and pulled him towards you. He didn’t hesitate to respond to you this time, his mouth diving straight down towards yours. 
He was kissing you feverishly again, clearly still as worked up from earlier as you were. His hands flew back to your hips, gripping them tight as he walked you the handful of steps backwards until you’d hit the stone fence behind you. Your own hands slid up his chest, wishing you could rip the vest off of him now that you were back because you wanted to feel him beneath your hands instead. 
His mouth soon broke from yours, his lips making their way down to your jaw. His beard lightly tickled against your skin as he trailed a few open mouthed kisses along the length of it, a moan vibrating in your throat. The moment he sucked a patch of your skin into his mouth, your eyes rolled back and your head landed against the brick wall behind you. Your arms wound around his neck, fingers digging into the thick material of his jacket as you sighed out a noise of pleasure. His mouth felt so goddamn good. 
As he continued to focus on your neck, one of his hands slid down from your hip, making its way around to palm your ass over your jeans. His large hand squeezed and the sound that it drew from your throat would’ve been mortifying if it hadn’t caused him to suck another patch of skin along your neck into his mouth. 
“ Fuck, Michael,” you breathed out.
You could feel the wet heat building between your thighs when he drew back from your neck, his plush lips damp with his saliva. His face was slightly flushed, that hungry look in his eyes again. God, you needed him badly.
Throwing all thought out, you pulled him towards you with the arms you had wrapped around his neck. Your lips crashed onto his, kissing him with every bit of that urgent hunger you felt burning inside of you. The pair of you were panting for air against each others' mouths, the kiss a mix of teeth and tongue as you gave yourself over to your desire. When you’d sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, your tongue dancing along the length of it, Michael had let out a groan that had your cunt clenching around nothing.
Releasing his lip from your mouth, your heated gaze locked onto Michael’s. The pair of you were still wrapped around each other, lips swollen from all of the kissing. Michael’s hand was still slowly kneading at your ass over your jeans as your lips parted, the words ‘I want you’ about to fall from them, but then an irritated voice rang out from just behind Michael and the pair of you froze.
“Ya got to be kiddin’ me, Michael!”
He immediately broke away from you, taking a few steps back as your hands inevitably fell to your sides with him now out of reach. Breath still coming in shallow pants, you felt a sharp pang hit you in the chest at how quickly he’d broken apart from you at the appearance of Amanda. 
“I've been callin' ya all mornin', Michael," she continued bitterly. "I came over here to talk to ya ‘bout somethin’ important and I find ya over here pawin' at her? Ya shouldn' even be draggin’ an outsider into our shite with everythin' goin' on!” Amanda snapped. 
"Amanda," Michael began, his tone placating.
“What if somethin' had happened and I couldn' get ahold o' ya, huh?" she barreled on. "Somethin' like what happened to Jaime? Because ya were too busy lookin’ for a quick fuck with the neighbor?”
Michael ran a hand through his hair in frustration as he eyed her. “Now’s not really the time for this, Amanda,” Michael shot back.
For some reason the fact that he hadn’t immediately clarified that you weren’t just a quick fuck had your chest tightening uncomfortably. Surely you meant more to him than that, even if you two didn’t know each other quite that well yet, right? It had seemed like you’d had a good date, and Birdy had said he seemed interested in you. Yet still, it hurt all the more that he’d not corrected her because you knew that Amanda had certainly meant something to him in the past, considering he’d had an affair with her despite her being married to his brother. 
Did she still mean something to him?
“It’s important, Michael,” Amanda said, her eyes taking a moment to rake you over with a look of disdain. “Certainly more important than whatever is goin' on here.”
“Can’t it wait?” he pressed.
Amanda’s eyes narrowed back at Michael. “ No, Michael, it can’t. Your family needs ya. More than your neighbor needs ya for a fuck,” she growled, gesturing a hand at you. “ She’s not important. Family is.”
Your jaw dropped in disbelief at her words and the blatant disrespect in them. Gaze flying towards Michael, you expected him to say something–anything at all–but all he did was sigh, his shoulders sagging as he did. Slowly his head turned over his shoulder back towards you, a sad, apologetic look in his eyes. 
“Grace,” he began, “I’m gonna have to deal with this right now.”
Your mouth dropped open in shock. Was he serious? He was going to let her talk about you like that and then just ask you to leave? As if that’s all you really were was a quick fuck at what was now becoming an inconvenient time? 
Eyes hardening back at him, you felt anger and jealousy beginning to burn inside of you. How had you misread this situation so badly? You thought there was more going on between the pair of you, but apparently that was one-sided. Of course he’d just want a fuck fresh out of prison, and you were easy pussy next door, weren’t you? Seemingly desperate yourself. 
Michael’s brows drew together at the change in your expression, confusion slowly drawing across his face as he turned towards you more fully. His mouth opened as if he was going to say more, but you cut him off. 
“Don’t worry about it, Michael,” you retorted coldly, beginning to make your way past him. 
“Grace–”
“And don’t call me, either,” you added. 
“Grace,” he tried again.
You saw Michael reach out to grab your arm as you passed by, but you pulled it out of his reach. At the end of the driveway, you saw a faint smirk spread on Amanda’s lips as she watched the scene unfolding before her, crossing her arms over her chest as you neared. When you walked past her, it took every bit of your strength to resist smacking that pleased look right from her face. 
You rounded the stone fence and made your way back to Megan’s house, ignoring the sound of Michael’s voice behind you. He only stopped calling your name when you heard Amanda tell him to–as if she apparently still had some pull over him.
Drawing the house key out of your coat pocket, you bit the tip of your tongue as you unlocked the front door. You didn’t want either of them to hear you crying; you were waiting to do that after you’d locked the door behind you and buried yourself in your sister’s couch cushions where no one could witness the tears.
Because of course he must still want her, even after eight years in prison. What an idiot you were to think you were more than easy sex to him. You were just a distraction from her.
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nerdieforpedro · 1 year ago
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Sard’ika Sessions
Session Two
Fanfiction 18+
Masterlist | Sard’ika Sessions Masterlist I Din Djarin/ The Mandalorian Masterlist
Summary: You still vividly recall your first session with your Mandalorian. His hands exploring your body and his beskar pleasuring you. New risks are taken before and during your session. Things are left unsaid.
Warnings: masturbation (female and male), sex toy use, semi-public sexual activity, HANDS, fingering, praise kink, Din being a soft dom menace at this point, money for sexual favors, sense deprivation (sight), scent kink, body worship, anal play, oral sex (male and female receiving), cum kink, angst (a little bit because I’m mean)
Notes: So basically, I turned the smut dial way up in this session. I actually planned to space it out, but decided not to because I too am a menace to my readers and myself. I hope everyone who reads enjoys and if not, eh…I dunno what to tell you because we’re only at session two. We’re going to further space buddies. 😎
Word Count: 3.8k (approx)
Space beta buddies special thanks: @i-own-loki , @megamindsecretlair and @theywhowriteandknowthings ❤️❤️❤️
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The day after the bounty hunter left, you received a black box delivered via courier. There was no name but instinct told you who it was from - The Mandalorian or Din as he told you to call him from now on. Making sure to drink water before opening it, good that you did, for it contained a card and tools that he wanted you to practice with. 
Sard’ika 
I’d like for you to resolve to use these items and learn more about your body. We will utilize them to assess your progress. 
Make sure to wear the emerald for me Mesh’la.
Din
Inside the box was a glass bottle of viscous liquid, upon further inspection, it was lubricant. Next to the lube, a velvet purple bag contained three plugs - anal plugs, the small insert card explained with increasing sizes to prepare one’s ass for insertion of larger objects. You licked your lips at the thought of Din’s length inside of you, but any previous entry attempts to your back door had been met with minimal prep and pain. A small smile spread on your face at the thought Din displayed in his actions. There were some small metal items that looked like they had small metal balls attached to a paperclip except it looked closer to tweezers maybe? There was another card, explaining that they indeed were closer to tweezers and that they attached to your nipples. You figured out the items, it would be easier to start with the clamps first.
You stood naked in the refresher to get a better look at what you were doing with the things and at a few different angles. Your hunch was correct and getting them to stay on was a challenge in itself as they had a tendency to roll your nipple and pop off. Once sufficiently clamped, you found that the crisp metal reminded you of the Mandalorian’s beskar, Din’s beskar that you had rode to your climax the last time you saw him. The memory soon had you bent over the sink, hearing the small metal ball weights attached to the clamps clack against the sink as you stretched your hand to your wet lips. Calling his name, you wondered if this is what he saw when his visor was trained on you less than 24 hours ago. Your fingers were much too thin and short in comparison to his, not stretching you enough and too soft to have the same effect his did. You opted to pull on one of the nipple clamps, teasing your own breast and giving focus to your clit, making you crumple over your sink as your forehead touched the mirror, it felt similar to his helmet so you stayed in the position for a bit, letting the decreasing waves of pleasure run their course. 
The next day, after your shift at the bounty hunter’s guild, you decide to try out the anal plugs - starting with the smallest one, you weren’t completely insane. You showered and got in your bed after placing two towels on the bed just in case. Of what you weren’t sure, but you figured it was better safe than sorry. A small amount of the cold jelly was placed on the small plug as you bent forward and brought it behind you, slowly inserting it past your buttocks and into your anus. Despite the lube, there was still a burn from the stretch in muscle, but not as bad as you had imagined. You managed to keep it in for ten minutes before removing it, cleaning it and dressing to make yourself dinner. The subsequent days were spent getting more familiar with the equipment Din had sent. The day before he was due to return, you received a hologram from him, it instructed you to wear your clamps and whichever anal plug you were up to to work for him. It made you nervous, that somehow, someone would notice that you seemed a little excitable the following day, but for him you would. He did pay quite a handsome sum of credits and you wondered if the tools would come out of what he would pay this upcoming session.
The day was proceeding smoothly. Processing bounties and doling out credits as well as new jobs with pucks that came in from requestors. It was toward the end of your shift, things had slowed down and there had been no sign of his shining armor though the doors of the Guild. It was when you took a swing of your water, that you spotted him come through the double doors, his broad frame strode in slow motion toward you. Your back straightened, your bra rubbed against the clamps under your blouse and vest, the added pressure from your corrected posture made the second butt plug press a bit deeper into you, making a silent whimper as the Mandalorian sat across from you. 
“Afternoon. It’s good to see you.” You nodded and returned his greeting, barely able to keep your composure. His low register, even distorted by his helmet, was palpable and had your core aching. Standing to get his payment of credits and one small slab of beskar shifted the plug and had you take a deep breath as you gushed in your panties, wetting them.
“I'm glad to see you too. Here's your payment, I’ll be right back, Mando.” It pained you to call him by his title rather than his name, but you were aware his name should not be spoken outside of the two of you. Quickly you gave him his payment and returned to the back, where there was a spare office, you needed to take the pressure off your ass. It was too intense and his mere presence was overwhelming. Din found your behavior curious and wanted to know if his hunch was right, following you to the spare room. He closed the door and locked it. He could tell. You must have followed his instructions and not only used the items but were wearing them, had them inside of you. The bounty hunter licked his lips inside of his helmet, hungry for the results of your bodily studies. “Mando, you can’t be in here. I need a few minutes, please.” Your voice is small, another oddity. Din closed the gap, 
“Turn around Sard’ika. Show me your face.” You turned slowly and held onto the small desk that was in the room, otherwise you may fall. “Lovely girl, open your legs for me. I’ll ease your tension.” He watched as your eyes went wide, his bare hands were before you and reached down, gently raising your skirt and parting your thighs, he didn’t feel you try and close them and pressed forward, running a finger along your soaked panties before moving them to the side. “I’ve waited to touch you and feel your warm skin again. Especially here, it’s so hot. Will you continue to melt for me?” His visor met her eyes, you nodded and placed your hands on his shoulder pauldrons. Din’s middle finger slipped inside of your folds and held one of your knees up to spread your further, your soft whimpers slowly became moans as his speed increased. Fellow employees were shuffling up and down the hallway just beyond the door which pressed a sense of urgency into your hips. 
However, when you grind them onto Din’s finger, you found that he added another one, taking a yelp from you. Unable to keep yourself quiet, the warrior releases your knee and places his thumb in your mouth. “Use me Sard’ika. You want release don’t you?” His voice gives an air of amusement as your lips wrap around his thumb and roll your tongue around it, tasting salt and something you can’t place. With a few more pumps, your walls cave around his fingers, teeth dig into his knuckle before he’s able to pull it out. You hear him hiss, but he doesn’t say anything, letting you recover as he puts his gloves back on and hides the skin of his large hands from you again. 
“I’ll leave first and meet you at your place Sard’ika. Don’t take too long. We have much to do.” A soft open and close of the door makes you reconsider what this arrangement may be doing to your mental health, but the money and orgasms outweigh your concerns. Taking a little over five minutes to make sure you don’t look too dishshelved or blissed out, you exit the small back room and go to lock up your desk and complete the handoff to the on coming shift. Despite the anal plug, you hurry home to where the Mandalorian waits for you.
The bounty hunter realized that his actions could have had grave consequences today. He had sought you out because if activities were kept to your home it would be discrete. Your appearance today wasn’t much different from the many other times he had seen you, but those were before he had seen you in your bare form, writing from his touch and looking directly into your eyes. While he was away tracking his bounty, he had spent extra time on his cot and in the refresher recalling your first session together. When he saw you stand a wince, he knew then that you had done as he’d asked. Despite relieving himself of his baser thoughts about you twice before landing the RazorCrest, the area where his codpiece was, grew too small quickly. Din couldn’t just let you walk away in that state, he contemplated asking you to use your hand at the same time he would use his, but he enjoyed being in control and he wouldn’t be able to observe you if he was being pleasured as well. 
Once inside your home, you mention wanting to shower. Din rejects the idea. Assuming you are receptive, today’s plan will allow him to partake of your scent more than the faint fragrance left on this thigh guard that faded a few days after his session with you. He asks you to put on one of the green slips he requested and wait for him in your bedroom. He’ll be along in a few. To your surprise, you’d seen the beskar clad hunter carrying two black bags, he never mentioned what may be in them but you did as asked and went to just change into your slip, sitting on your bed. One of the bags Din set on your counter, the same place as he had placed the last bag of credits, this one was a bit heavier. The other bag he brought in with him and removed a blindfold he had tested on himself in the razor crest, making sure that no light would penetrate it. 
You didn’t know much about Mandalorian culture, but figured whatever was about to happen, he might be removing more of his armor and didn’t want you to see. Given they had a creed to uphold, it didn’t bother you much. You were to get on your knees on the bed and face toward your headboard. 
Din wrapped the blindfold around your eyes three times then tied it. “Sard’ika. Spread your legs but don’t get on your elbows yet.” You nodded as you felt the bed shift, his weight dipping the mattress behind you. His bare hands were present again, slipping the thin straps of your gown down, uncovering your breasts but not removing it fully. Calloused hands cupped the bottom of your breasts, supporting their weight. A small hum released from you followed by a hiss as his frigid beskar chestplate skims against your exposed back. His helmet pressed against your cheek, looking over your shoulder, admiring your pinched nipples. “Have you worn them all day mesh’la?” His deep voice resonates between your thighs, nodding, you place your hands over his ungloved ones, grateful to be touching any part of this man’s skin.
“I have Din. I was looking forward to seeing you today. I’m glad you weren’t delayed.” Your voice is coated with lust as he kneads your breasts, pressing the pads of his fingers into them. You almost missed it, but he called your name before pulling back to ask you to lean forward on your elbows. Once in position, his weight on the bed changes again and you feel the cool beskar slide between you. It feels like it may be his legs and feet, his forearms were large as well, but not as thick as his thighs. Some shuffling of fabric was heard and your hands around their way to his knees, but then slid up Din’s thighs as he pulled your hips toward him. “Din, what do you want me to do next?” You asked, the armor on his thighs was still present so he hadn’t removed it, what did he take off?
The Mandalorian had planned on doing this much later down the line. However, he still recalled the fragrance on his beskar from last week, though it had faded, he wanted to become reacquainted with it. He blindfolded you and his head was behind you, maybe he should have bound your hands too, but he was too impatient. A trait he was noticing applied to you more and more. The pressure of his helmet exhaled as did he when he removed it, it was a large risk he was taking and in some circles a violation of The Creed, but his nostrils were met with the same tangy scent he had pleasured himself to before he slept. Din placed his helmet above his head on the bed, he wouldn’t be needing it for now.
“Nothing for right now. Just let me look at your weeping cunt again. You’ll feel when you should start. You’re a smart woman Sard’ika.” His hands took hold of your ass and squeezed, happy to see his fingers disappear into your ample flesh. Din licked his lips before pushing your ass forward a bit and had an idea. He reached toward your small ring of muscle and removed your anal plug, making a small pop. 
Inspecting your asshole, he was reasonably certain that you could try out the third plug size. He reached for it out of the bag and ran it along your wet slit, making you shiver. “I believe you’re ready for this. Let me know if you feel any pain though Mesh’la.” Pressing it in slowly, he was satisfied to see just the small loop sticking out as your ring of muscle spread. You groaned heavily and were surprised to find yourself pushing back toward the plug as he inserted it. His heavy hand slapped your ass while you wiggled it. A low rumble came from his chest in the form of laughter, you leaned forward to raise your ass into their air more, searching for more pressure, you found a velvet, throbbing length press against your chest and narrowly missed your nose. 
“I don’t feel any pain. I want to have you inside of me Din.” You sung, pressing your breasts together to capture his long member between your breasts, the cold metal of the nipple clamps you still had on jingled with your movements. Your hands were able to envelope the circumference of his member, the steel of the clamps grazed his hot skin and with the voice he released you realized he sounded different. Louder, closer and without the slight electronic click you’d hear sometime in between his words. Did he remove his helmet? Is that the reason you’re wearing the blindfold? His cock dripped precum onto your breasts making it easier for you to grind them against his length. 
“Dank farrik Sard’ika, excellent, keep going mesh’la.” Din clicked his tongue prior to his hawkish nose pressing against your clit, his plush lips touched your folds, drinking your nectar in. Tawdry damp noises were heard from you both, his tongue soon slipped inside of your core, exploring the tight cavern of muscle that longed to clench around anything. On the same token, you opened your mouth and let saliva drop onto your breasts and the thick length you were stimulating yourself with. With that complete, you lowered your head to flick your tongue along the bulbous head, breathing in his musk and sweat, your hips shifted forward a bit to allow you to reach him while still massaging his cock. 
Din moved his hands down to your thighs and forced your cunt into his face, he had no more need for air. He just needed to keep lapping your fluids, swallowing them to make himself full of you. If he was lucky, his beard that scratched your slick inner thighs would still be coated with you when he put his helmet back on and he would have your scent for much longer this time. Only the sounds of the two of you gorging yourselves on each other’s heat and muffled moans were heard for a period of time that neither of you were sure of.
Surprisingly, Din climaxed first, thick ropes coating the roof of your mouth and the back of your throat, his hips buckled and his cock slowly became soft between your breasts as you drank his cum, followed by laying your head on the chilled beskar of this thigh. Your hips were rolling onto his face as he continued to sip from your pussy, with a loud cry, you spilled over his mouth, face, chin and neck. Utterly exhausted, you focus on breathing and staying awake. You didn’t want to fall asleep before he left, you wanted to say goodbye, but your body resisted your intentions. 
The bounty hunter rolled you on your back and removed the nipple clamps and the anal plug, setting them on the towel on the floor. He sat up and cleaned himself up some, leaving most of the evidence of your climax on his face before putting his helmet back on. The Mandalorian then fixed  himself back into his flight suit before replacing his codpiece. He left his gloves for last, his fingers glided up your calves, thighs, doughy belly, breasts and rested on the sides of your cheeks. Removing the blindfold, he was craving the eye contact that you’d give him. Fluttering open, you did just that, reaching for his hands with your delicate fingers tracing the rough skin over his knuckles. “Is there any more you require of me Din?” your raspy voice questioned. Din heard himself hum as it echoed in his helmet, drunk on your scent. 
“No Sard’ika. You’ve given me much this session.” His hands briefly left your face to pull your slip back up and feed your arms through the straps, cupping your cum streaked breasts. You saw him hesitate. 
“It’s fine Din. Leave them, I can wash the slip later. I’d like to leave a piece of you for a little while after you leave. Ah…unless that’s not okay with you.” It hadn’t dawned on you to ask if he was alright with seeing evidence of his work on you. He shook his head and finished pulling the emerald slip over your breasts. “Um, is there anything you want to try or do for next time?” Clearing your throat, you weren’t sure if it was the last of his cum or your own spit that you needed to move. His thumb traced your bottom lip, pressing it. One of your hands touched his forearm guard, but he interlaced his fingers with yours.
“A piece is me is fine if that’s what you desire, mesh’la. I did bring two different dildos and more lube to use but you can use them for preparation.” Her hands are warm and he doesn’t want to leave. For the first time in a long time, since he had rescued his son, he wanted to leave his helmet off. Unsure if she would approve of his face, Din could fall back on the increased amount of credits he had brought with him this time, but it would lead him to despair if you didn’t like his features. His primary reason he’d like to leave his helmet off would be to have your soft hands touch his face and map it the same way he does yours. From your lips, his digits ran over your wide nose and full eyebrows. You had long coily hair that expanded with exertion and moisture, he would need to commit it all to memory. “I will be gone for a longer period of time - about two weeks. I plan to visit the little one and take care of a few jobs.”
The prospect of Din’s absence weighed heavily on your shoulders, before this started, these sessions. You’d only wonder if you’d be able to talk to him for the few minutes you could, giving him a bounty or paying him out after confirming the client’s stipulations were met. And sure, you’d wonder what he was up to but now things were much more murky between the two of you. “I understand. Stay safe Din.” You wanted to tell him to come back but he already said he was, your eyes closed embarrassed at your thought. Din pulls away from you and picked up the toys he had set on the towel, taking them into the refresher and cleaning them, putting them into the bag he had delivered previously. He then added the two dilios and the additional lube as well. With his gloves back on, he turned to face you, sitting up at the edge of the bed, you winced and leaned to the side, taking pressure off your ass. He had given it a new stretch today. “Din. I think - think we-” 
The cool beskar of his helmet touched your forehead and stopped you from speaking. His gloved hands held your face and trailed down to your shoulders. “Sard’ika please leave it for the next session. I understand.” The Mandalorian pulled away from you for the last time before he left. The bag on the counter was heavier than the last time. You stood up to follow his cape, his heavy steps leading to your front door. Din turned and took your hand in his once more before exiting into the dry night air. “There’s much to discuss and I would like to do so when I am able to think clearly.” Unsure of what he meant you nodded.
“You’re right. That would be best. Take care.” You squeezed his hand before letting go, softly ushering him out the doorway. His back was to you he started his long walk to his ship to leave again, closing your door you sat on your couch and wondered what you’d say the next time you see him.
Previous: Session One
Next: Session Three
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justenjoythegossip · 10 months ago
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Will Chris’ “psychotic” fans be held responsible for the end of the shitshow?
Recently an article regarding Abba’s near ”abduction” story resurfaced, or I should say was reposted. It seemed pretty random of course. But was it? Because you see, this story hints at an original trauma that she might have suffered as a kid. If you combine this (real or fictitious) traumatic experience with the narrative that Chris’ fans are psychos who really can’t stand to see him in a relationship, well then you have created the perfect storm for their separation. Will that excuse be used to explain their divorce which couldn’t come soon enough by the way? 
So many breadcrumbs pointing to Abba being scared… 
The narrative that Chris’ fans are crazy and don’t want to see him with anyone has been going on for years. His brother Scott alluded to it not so long ago during an interview. Yvette Nicole Brown tweeted about it as well, in a very over-the-top and unhinged way just after Chris and Abba made it official with their first papwalk. So there have been many crumbs pointing to his fans’ problematic behavior being the cause for concerns. And indeed, there have already been several articles pointing to Abba being scared for her safety. Here are a couple of examples.
https://www.thenews.com.pk/amp/1119789-chris-evans-jealous-fans-pose-safety-concerns-for-his-wife-alba-baptista
Recently, that excuse has been used to explain why Abba couldn’t attend an event for Warrior Nun.
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We all know of her extraordinary professionalism. She has promoted the show so much so that we can only imagine how terrified and heartbroken she must have felt to turn down this event. (read sarcasm) And it probably explains why she refused to talk to the media at the GQ event. You see she was not being rude and a diva, she was just being shy and afraid…
Also remember during Chris and Abba’s last papwalk when they allegedly had dinner with Rob Pattinson, Suki, Adrien Brody and Harvey Weinstein’s former wife, they were escorted by Guillermo who is Chris’ bodyguard. Sure it was meant to sell that they are a very famous and popular couple but maybe it served another purpose. Maybe it was meant to sell the narrative that she is terrified of Chris’ fans and needs the protection of a bodyguard. So the question remains: will they be blamed for their divorce?
The ending of this shitshow isn’t likely to happen soon…
Crumbs and hints are in place but that doesn’t mean the end of the shitshow is near. In fact, I would be very surprised if he doesn’t mention his “wife” during his next con at Seattle on March 2nd. Indeed this con is overseen by the same company that did C2E2 and NYCC last year, and let’s remember the NY con was used to confirm the 2 kinda of ceremonies and to show off his ill-fitting ring. We can suspect this company is one of their sponsors, just like the jewelry brand or airline company. But I am just speculating. 
It’s safe to assume there will be similar shenanigans in Seattle anyway. Will she actually be there? It’s a real possibility. Especially, since the Oscars’ ceremony is on March 10th. Like for the Golden Globes, it’s a time when celebrities try to be seen. And it will be one of their last occasions to make a splash for a while and have their names in every publication since Chris is supposed to start shooting a new movie in March as well. Unless we get pap pics of them on his movie set. They haven’t done it yet and it would be another box to check off in their PR games.  
The manufactured psychotic fans…
For sure there are some crazy fans out there. But I have little doubt as well that most of his crazy fans act this way on purpose because there are plants on the payroll. Even recently, we have seen a ridiculous fake drama around Dodger. An account even published an old picture of Dodger at Daycare. So this mod either hacked into the security cameras of the dog daycare center 6 years ago. Or by some off chance, a crazy stalker fan who worked at that center leaked that pic and sent it to that mod? I should probably specify that this account also got the exclusive (and very believable) story that Renner and Hemsworth told two strangers that they were in Boston for Chris’ wedding. Obviously the most logical explanation is that this blog was fed real info (and that pic) by his team or is working directly for his team. But officially they will pass as crazy fans who crossed the line… And this narrative has proved quite useful in the past.
Playing the victim card is unlikely to get them any sympathy… 
I personally think that this strategy won’t benefit either of them. 
Particularly Abba. First of all, people are unlikely to believe she needs protection because nobody knows her in the first place. We all remember that ridiculous cringe moment at the Ghosted premiere where a paid actor pretended to be her fan and screamed her name. Also and I don’t mean any disrespect but she is not only unknown to the public but she is also totally unremarkable. She is so unremarkable in fact that when that influencer got the video of them at Walt Disney (the video where you can hear the influencer say at the end: “got it”) she had a pic of Abba’s back tattoo on her screen to make sure she recognized her. 
As for Chris, blaming his fans for the end of this shitshow is unlikely to gain him any sympathy either. We have seen so many fan pages disappear, so many fans leave. He has alienated so many loyal fans and a part of the general public with this relationship that isn’t on brand for him. It wouldn’t be wise to alienate the fans that have stuck around. 
Also playing the victim card is just not as popular as it once was. First of all, most normal people have troubles feeling sorry for out of touch celebrities. And why should they? They live in the real world and have real problems. Like having to hold on to their low-paying job, to take care of their kids or to put food on the table. Look at Harry and Meghan. Most people can’t stand them anymore. So Chris’ team would be wise to look for another exit strategy. They have time…
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maculategiraffe · 11 months ago
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okay spoilers for the little girl who lives down the lane (1976) but here's what had happened: this little girl's dad was terminally ill and her estranged mom was abusive and her dad was worried that when he died she would either go back into the care of her abusive mom or into the foster system. so he was like okay honey listen. you're a smart girl, you got a good head on your shoulders. here's what we're gonna do. we lease a house, the rent's paid up for the next three years. I'll leave you a big pile of traveler's checks in a safe deposit box in the bank, joint account with both our names on it where you're authorized to make withdrawals. I'm going to check tide charts and then go drown myself in the sea so they'll never find my body. and you just pretend I'm still alive to everybody in town so they won't bother you for the next three years until you're old enough to (unclear. not need a legal guardian? I don't know what the emancipated minor laws were in 1976 but they keep saying three years like that's the magic timeframe so whatever. she is thirteen so I guess when she's sixteen she's officially a grownup). and if your mom comes sniffing around just put a spoonful of powder from this little jar in her tea and then read this textbook on home embalming. good? good. okay I love you I'm going into the sea now
which is all fine and good. now here are the dumbshit mistakes her stupid father made:
-chose, for the location of the house, a nosy small town where everybody knows everybody and everybody is all up in everybody's business all the time. it takes two seconds for the landlady to be like I never see you or your father at the market. I get he probably doesn't want her living in a big city (although, why? good public transport, good cultural opportunities, libraries, museums) but at least pick a place that has more than one grocery store
-chose, for the landlady, a nosy obnoxious anti-semitic old bitch who is on the school board and also has an adult son who is a known child molester. have like ONE conversation with the townspeople before you sign this three year lease. literally anyone in this town would tell you about this old bitch and her molester son if you gave them half a chance
-speaking of the school board why is part of the plan that your daughter doesn't go to school. sure she's super duper smart and special but aside from depriving her of a major source of automatic social support not going to school immediately makes her look suspicious and (depending on truancy laws in 1976) possibly puts her in the wrong side of the law. just let her go to school like a normal kid and then come home and teach herself quantum physics in the evenings
-doesn't teach her the slightest bit of common sense self defense. like if it was me I'd teach her to shoot and give her a nice little lightweight handgun of her own but if you don't like that idea then at least teach her to keep the door on the chain and not open the door after dark no matter who knocks. and for christ's sake warn her about halloween
-ya dingus
-come back out of the sea and explain yourself at once
-anyway little jodie foster is fantastic and so is her little manic pixie dream boyfriend and so is his check suited cop uncle. great movie but the father is a dingus
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