#the women I go on actual dates with are not as affectionate in casual conversation as she is
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himblebo · 3 days ago
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She’s married she’s married she’s married she’s married (to a man to a man to a man to a man)
#I need to stop imprinting on women with PhDs#I need to just be regular friends and colleagues with them#the first one is straight#this one is maybe bi but more importantly married#but god why does every conversation feel so flirty#the women I go on actual dates with are not as affectionate in casual conversation as she is#I really wish I could date normally and I really wish I could make friends/do networking normally#but dating doesn’t really work for me because I really need to get to know someone before I can determine if I have feelings#but clearly I only develop crushes and feelings on women that are completely uninterested in me romantically#my therapist calls that self sabotage but I don’t think she can fully understand how confusing demisexuality is#like I feel a connection with the people I feel a connection with and that has never once happened for me going on dates#it only happens with people I get to know really well platonically first with absolutely no thought or pressure of theoretical romance#I would fucking love it if I could go on three dates with a girl and feel anything other than ‘we get along well and I had a nice time’#I would fucking love if I could just make out with someone casually and it not be incredibly uncomfortable for me#but no instead I just develop really intense friendships with women that see me like a little sister and I don’t a#and I don’t say anything because I don’t want to make things weird#my hormones are all over the place#we haven’t talked in awhile but we’re chatting about what crafting projects we’re each working on#so I’m feeling vulnerable and emotional
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tytarax · 4 months ago
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Daishinkan and the reader on a fake date.
Chichi, Bulma, and 18 who literally have nothing to do hide in huge lush bushes and play detective, wanting to see the relationship between human and an alien advisor to a supreme god. What if they kiss? That's so romantic for ChiChi
And the lush bush is slowly being replenished with new faces. Curious Goku, and Zenon (who knows what's going on but hides in the bush for fun and curiosity). Perhaps Whis is there too? Women trying to hide his hair
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Daishinkan and Y/N were enjoying a peaceful stroll through a beautifully landscaped garden, a charming setting that had been carefully arranged to mimic a romantic date. They laughed and chatted, trying to keep the mood light and casual, despite the rather unusual nature of their “date.”
Unbeknownst to them, a group of curious onlookers had taken refuge in a sprawling, lush bush nearby. Chi-Chi, Bulma, and Android 18 were peering through the foliage, their eyes wide with interest. The trio had decided to play detective, eager to see how a date between a human and an alien advisor to a supreme god would unfold.
From their vantage point, they saw Daishinkan and Y/N engage in light-hearted banter, their laughter ringing through the air. “What if they kiss?" Bulma asked while Chi-Chi's eyes sparkled with excitement "That would be so romantic!” she whispered to the others, clutching a pair of binoculars.
Bulma tried to keep her excitement in check. “I can’t believe we’re actually doing this. But it’s so interesting!”
18, usually stoic, couldn’t help but smile at the charming scene unfolding before them. “This is actually kind of fun.”
As the conversation between Daishinkan and Y/N became more animated, the bushes started to attract more curious visitors. Goku, ever the adventurer, had noticed the commotion and couldn’t resist joining in. He crouched beside the bush, his face peeking through with a grin.
“Hey, what’s going on here?” Goku asked, excitement evident in his voice.
Before anyone could respond, Zeno, appeared next to Goku. He squeezed into the bush with a playful giggle, knowing full well what was happening. “This is so much fun!” Zeno whispered, clearly enjoying the game of hide-and-seek.
Whis, ever the composed observer, arrived next, his usual calm demeanor slightly disrupted by the chaotic scene. He attempted to blend in, trying to hide his distinctive hair behind nearby leaves. “I suppose it’s not every day one gets to witness such a unique scenario,” he mused, barely containing his amusement.
As Daishinkan and Y/N continued their walk, the atmosphere around them grew more relaxed. Daishinkan glanced at Y/N with a tender smile, and Y/N responded with a shy, yet warm, gaze. The moment felt intimate, and as they stopped by a particularly beautiful spot in the garden, their faces drew closer.
From their hidden vantage point, Chi-Chi, Bulma, 18, Goku, and even Zeno watched in breathless anticipation. Just as Daishinkan leaned in, their lips met in a soft, affectionate kiss.
The reaction from the bushes was a mix of squeals, excited whispers, and a muffled laugh from Whis, who managed to keep his hair mostly hidden.
“That’s it! They kissed!” Chi-Chi exclaimed, her voice full of joy. “This is the most romantic thing ever!”
Bulma and 18 nodded in agreement, their curiosity satisfied and their hearts warmed by the tender moment they had witnessed.
As the couple eventually parted, Daishinkan and Y/N remained blissfully unaware of their hidden audience, basking in the simple joy of each other’s company.
Masterpost
DBS Masterlist
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alice-in-hotel-land · 2 months ago
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About / context:
Some odd months ago (I want to say around spring this year, if not earlier, 2024) I began to notice what I thought might be flirting behavior coming from my manager, Alice.
It started subtle, with her greeting both if us night auditors in the mornings with "Good morning, sunshines", "Hello my loves", etc. but quickly (like within a months time) she started using the singular form and making eye contact with me while smiling warmly. This was while she was just a front desk associate like me. At one point during the spring/summer, Nathan (a security guard we had at the time) developed a hard crush on her and would try flirting with her on occasion (not smooth flirting tbh). She always (to me) seemed disinterested and would let him talk to her and such, but she never really seemed to be feeding into it. She was sweet (friendly) to him but not sweet (flirty), but i dont think he picked up on it (pretty sure he's autistic cause i am too and his brain works very similar to mine). Eventually he worked up the courage to ask her out and she said yes. They went on one date and she started being more aloof/distant with him (I'm assuming the date didn't go well for her, but he said it did). Around the same time he started talking/flirting with her, she started growing more friendly with me. A small uptick in the frequency of the petnames (sunshine/my love/babe) directed at me, always with a bright smile and eye contact. She would also have a conversation with Nate (mostly one sided. him talking to her and her nodding/keeping her responses short) then turn her attention to me to start talking. Eventually I got a hunch that she wasnt digging him at all and she was actually being flirty with me, so I started playing into it a little (mostly just to see how she'd react and if she fed back into it more). I'm not a petnames person, but when she'd greet me warmly, I'd greet back with her same energy. Eye contact, a bright smile, petnames ("Good morning gorgeous/Hello my love/Hi sunshine" etc). She took it well. Her demeanor was more cheery when I'd see her.
When she was still working the desk in the mornings, her tone got more affectionate and she would hold eye contact longer (like, long enough that it didn't feel casual anymore and I would have to break it before getting flustered). Then when she got promoted to management and started working evenings, there'd be one or two nights a week (mostly weekend nights) where she'd stay until after we got there (11pm) and when she would see me walk in her face would light up and she'd greet me sweetly. If she happened to be busy with a guest or on the phone, she would come up to me after and say her sweet hellos.
Over the last few months, she's become much sweeter, constantly saying that I'm awesome, she appreciates me, I'm so great/wonderful, she started staying behind later to talk (used to leave at like 11:15, but on nights I worked she'd start staying until at least 11:30 or 12, sometimes a little later. Always telling me to text her if I need anything.
A few facts:
I work in a large, duel property hotel chain in my city's downtown area
Alice and I were both just front desk/guest associates. I work the night audit shift (overnight) and she used to work the AM front desk shift. In like July this year she applied for/was promoted to guest services manager (front desk manager)
I turned 26 this May & she turned 22 this August (24 is the youngest i'll date & even the couple of 24 year olds I've been in dates with this year hasn't worked out because of the difference between my maturity/life right now & theirs)
I want to say Alice is bi, but thats just an assumption tbh. I've never actually heard her talk about girls/dating women/pride etc so idk. I'm a non-binary masc lesbian.
Im currently actively dating someone (a very hot non-binary lesbian), but they want to keep things casual atm because between their work/schooling there's not much time in their week to. We did agree that if we feel the need to see people outside of our situation, it's fine as long as we communicate that effectively. I have not told them about Alice because that would put them in a position where they have to decide what we are in terms or relationship/labels and I don't want to put them in that position before they're ready. And also due to the fact that I cannot/will not actually do anything with my manager besides flirt because I'm genuinely head over heels for the person I'm dating, I'm not the cheating kind and management can't be involved with staff.
Im just genuinely having fun practicing my flirting on Alice & it seems that she gets a kick out of it too. We are in no way actually involved, nor will we ever be
Now that that's out of the way.
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hms-no-fun · 3 years ago
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if you don't mind me asking, how did you know you were polyamorous? how did you talk to your partner about being poly?
honestly it just sorta happened?
thing is, i've never been very good in monogamous relationships for a number of reasons. i'm extremely grey-asexual, and was even more so before i started HRT. and i found the idea that i had to be everything my partner needed very, uh. stressful. i swore off relationships for a number of years in my late 20s because i convinced myself i had to be aromantic and just couldn't really be with other people healthily.
my first post-transition gf was already dating someone else when we met, and she was openly poly. when things first started to seem like they might get, idk, "serious" between us, we did a group chat with her partner and just kinda talked it through. for whatever reason i never had a problem with it. frankly it felt natural. i'm not a jealous person, and i was uncomfortable with the presumption that i was supposed to be jealous. like if i found another person attractive that was shameful, or if someone showed attraction towards my partner that was an insult???? i mean it depends on the situation of course but like, god cishets really do seem to think that a human person is always in total control of their thoughts and the movement of their eyes, neither of which is basically ever true but they're ESPECIALLY not true when you're under pressure to never commit thought crime against [checks notes] a person you presumably want to spend a significant amount of time with?? christ, imagine having a relationship that fragile, that tense. exhausting!
obviously, this is a conversation. every relationship is different. my gf and i discussed our boundaries and felt like, casual sex is fine, but if we start feeling like someone might be a new Big Relationship Person we should talk it out first. not in a judgy "i'm telling you what to do" way, but just. idk, a new partner tends to eat time, and that's great! but it's also easy to get carried away and grow neglectful. it's a negotiation more about time and commitment and etc etc that changes shape every time. there's nothing threatening to it imo
i'm a reclusive person. i need my own time and my own space. being poly comes naturally to me because i always found monogamous relationships tiresome. i'd literally dream of being in a relationship where i didn't have to be everything, where i could watch my partner and someone else be cute together and be both extremely happy that she's happy, AND extremely relieved that i don't have to make myself be affectionate all the time when i'm just not feeling up for it.
and like. i met my second gf because she was dating a girl i had a crush on who had a crush on me. after getting to know that girl better i felt like, idk, i don't know if i want to DATE her, but i still want to be good friends. i think our current setup, as i guess "metamours", is the ideal relationship. i've got my two gfs, i've got my gf's gf, i'm surrounded by smart and sexy women who care about me and it rules!
i always struggled to understand why romantic feelings were so contentious for other people. i remember expressing to a friend that i had a crush on him when we were in high school and he FLIPPED SHIT, and i had to run it back super hard and play it off as a joke. but it didn't make sense to me that he'd be offended because, idk, doesn't everyone fall a little bit in love with the people they spend all their time with? isn't it normal for good friends to want to platonically kiss a little after a good game of halo 3? took me a VERY long time to learn that no, actually, apparently they don't. it was always so torturous to feel like, man, i have this crush and i know it's not gonna go anywhere, but if i don't say it out loud and just find out for sure how they feel, i'll never be able to let it go... then again IF i say it then there's a better than zero chance that they'll hate me forever, suddenly, for some reason. to me they were just feelings, weird little chemical jolts that give you funny thoughts, and yet to other people they seemed as real as a knife to the throat. so i got into the habit of never expressing those feelings. very good and healthy behavior our society encourages
i never understood why no one believed me when i said that if you don't feel the same way about me as i feel about you, that's fine. not long after i came out as trans, i told a girl i spent a lot of time with that i had a crush on her, and she was like... well, she expressed disappointment because she'd told me not a week before that she wasn't a lesbian and really disliked how often she got pegged as a lesbian. which was surreal because i was still like, baby baby baby trans and i hadn't put those twos together. she took my gender more seriously than i did! and we pretty much stopped being friends after that, which was such a bummer.
so polyamory comes naturally to me. it feels like the way i always wanted relationships to work but dared never dream they realistically could. it helps that i'm almost 33 and just generally fucking Over It vis-a-vis traditional romantic bullshit. i always hated small talk and dating, performing the ritual of Getting To Know Each Other. the person you put on when you want someone to like you isn't really you and i always knew that. i've never been capable of being anyone other than myself and it's just, it's SO nice to be with people who are just as easygoing about relationships as i am.
love isn't a commodity, it isn't scarce, and it isn't a zero sum game.
polyamory isn't easy, of course. it requires a level of vulnerability and honesty that, i mean, is just as necessary in monogamous relationships too? but monogamous relationships tend to come with the assumption of pretending to love each other for the sake of their financial-biological business arrangement ("marriage"), at least in my experience. so they're "easy" in the sense that we have a common cultural understanding of what a marriage is supposed to look like (blissfully happy or bitterly resentful, nothing in between). we don't have centuries of polyam stories to tell us how we're supposed to hate each other- ugh sorry i'm being really salty here lmao. we don't have centuries of polyam stories to tell us what a polycule is "supposed" to look like, so you kinda have to invent it yourself. that requires honest conversation and a LOT of patience, which i say again is sort of a prerequisite for any healthy relationship but we live in a fucking insane society that thinks love is a glory hole that cooks dinner for you, so i guess polyamory has a reputation as being "harder." i don't think it is.
it's just like anything in life, really. you work at it and sometimes the work pays off and sometimes it doesn't. you fuck it up over and over until you don't. there are shitty people who will use any system or dynamic to get what they want out of others, but that's not a result of being with multiple people, that's a result of being raised by aforementioned fucking insane society and, generally, a shitty person being true to their nature.
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blackwoolncrown · 3 years ago
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The (Sometimes Unintentional) Subtext of Digital Conversations
 Different people have different ideas about what it means to sign an email “XOXO,” what you should use Facebook for, and how long you can wait before texting back.
By
Deborah Tannen
The meanings we glean in conversation are often, maybe mostly, not found in the words spoken, but in how they’re said, and in the spaces between them. Tone of voice, and cadences created by shifts in speed, volume, and pitch, let listeners know whether “Nice job,” is complimentary or sarcastic, or whether “Wow” shows that you’re impressed or underwhelmed. The literal meaning of words is their message, and everything about how words are said is the metamessage. Metamessages communicate how you mean what you say.
More and more conversations are taking place on screens—via texting, Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, Twitter, email, and myriad other platforms. Some of these written conversations make up for the lack of voicing with conventions that mimic speech, like exclamation points, CAPS, and repetition of words or letters. I can be “so happy!!!!!!!” or “sooooo happy” or “SO happy” or “sosososo happy” or even “SOSOSOSOOOOOO happy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Emoticons, emojis, and gifs help, too. But these visual signals are only the tip of the metamessage iceberg.
Human beings are always in the business of making meaning and interpreting meaning. Because there are options to choose from when sending a message, like which platform to use and how to use it, we see meaning in the choice that was made. But because the technologies, and the conventions for using them, are so new and are changing so fast, even close friends and relatives have differing ideas about how they should be used. And because metamessages are implied rather than stated, they can be misinterpreted or missed entirely.
Different generations are particularly apt to perceive different metamessages in the same words or actions. For example, a Sri Lankan woman living in London told me of hosting her sister and her sister’s teenage daughter. When the girl refused to go out after 3:00 p.m., because that’s when her friends back home got active on WhatsApp, the sisters perceived the metamessage, “I’m not really here. My head and my heart are elsewhere.” But I suspect the girl’s perspective was more like: “I’m here with you—that’s a given—but I also want to stay connected to my friends, and I can’t bear the thought of being left out”
I heard a great range of viewpoints on social media while interviewing over 80 women (ranging in age from 9 to 97) for a study of friendship. And my students at Georgetown University have helped me understand how they manage, and sometimes are tripped up by, the metamessages communicated over social media—and how habits and assumptions can differ.
For instance, when Kate Lucey’s sister had not given birth by her due date, she kept family and friends apprised of what was happening with her pregnancy by posting frequently on Facebook. In response, even distant relatives and casual friends posted well wishes and encouraging thoughts. Kate felt that these postings sent her sister a precious metamessage: Many people love her and care about her pregnancy. The posts strengthened her network of support. Kate was stunned to learn that her roommate perceived a negative metamessage in her sister’s use of Facebook. She said she would have been offended to be kept up to date about a pregnancy that way; she would think, “Geez, why didn’t you call?” Kate’s roommate reasoned that posting on Facebook is so easy that it means nothing. A phone conversation reflects and creates a meaningful relationship, whereas Facebook creates a false sense of intimacy, not a real relationship.
The impression that posting on Facebook is insincere because it’s too easy sounds a lot like the explanation a friend gave me (over email) for disliking “THAT DRAT ‘xoxo,’ which means nothing, just keys to hit.” This perspective–if something is too easy it’s meaningless or insincere—makes sense. Taking time sends a metamessage of caring. Yet I like ‘xoxo’ (or my personal variant, ‘xxoo’), and use it, though only with friends who use it first. I think xoxo fills a need: It’s a more affectionate way to close an email than “Best” but not as fervent as “Love,” which, in any case, some people don’t feel comfortable using with friends, though some do. Maybe it strikes some as fake because it’s a substitution, standing for “love and kisses” but not denoting it. Or maybe it seems too cutesy. Whatever the source of these impressions, deciding how to sign off a message becomes a challenge, since any choice you make will send metamessages that you may not intend or suspect.
I was shocked to realize that my students might be perceiving metamessages opposite from what I intend when I reply to their email requests and queries. One of them pointed out that when he emails professors, he begins with a salutation (“Dear Professor Smith”) and a greeting like “I hope you’re enjoying the weekend.” Only then does he explain his request—in detail—followed by a friendly closing, again about the weekend or the weather, before wrapping up with “Sincerely” or “Yours truly” above his name. (I recognized his description: That’s the way most of my students’ emails look.) The student then complained that many of his professors’ responses omit the salutation, greeting, full explanation, friendly closing, signature, and name. All he receives is a naked reply to his question, and usually a cryptic one at that. I realized that I do this, too–or did, before he, and others in class discussion, opened my eyes. I had assumed that dispensing with those formalities sends a metamessage of casual friendliness, more or less the way I use email with close friends and family. But students regard email as formal, so the omission of those niceties often strikes them as disrespectful, even rude. (Now I go back and add the trimmings before pressing SEND.)
It’s not surprising that professors’ and students’ practices would vary, given the difference in power and age. But even best friends can have very different ideas about appropriate ways to use social media. Noelle Miesfeld and Rachel Jacobson had been close friends since college, and they stayed in close touch after graduation, often having long telephone conversations, catching up. After a number of years, however, they began communicating more through texting. This meant more frequent conversations—often daily or even multiple times a day. So Noelle was surprised when Rachel registered a complaint: She’d been telling Noelle about a problem, and she felt that Noelle’s responses seemed too casual and brief to show real concern. Rachel missed her caring, emotionally supportive friend. They traced the trouble to their contrasting assumptions about texting. To Noelle, comforting closeness resided in the frequency of their exchanges. To Rachel, frequency didn’t substitute for the expression of feeling and detailed discussion of her situation that they’d shared in the past—the kinds of conversations that Noelle didn’t feel could or should take place through texting.
When deciding which platform to use and how to use it, as well as how to interpret communications you receive—or don’t receive—you have to know which platforms your friends tend to use and how they use them. Some will answer texts but not emails. Others don’t check their phones regularly, so you can’t rely on texting to reach them. The proliferation of platforms means more options to exploit but also more opportunities for your messages to be misinterpreted. How quickly does a particular friend usually reply to a text or email? What does the lack of an immediate response mean? So firm is some people’s expectation of a quick reply to a text that any lapse carries meaning. A student, telling me about a friend who, in her words, “stopped talking” to her, said, by way of explanation, “She’d text me back two days later.” To her, a two-day delay was tantamount to not talking at all.
Silence can be a deliberate communication. One woman said of a text she received from a friend, “I was so annoyed, I’m just not responding. I just didn’t answer.” Yet in other cases, silence doesn’t mean anything; it results from circumstances. A young woman thought her boyfriend’s delay in responding meant he was angry at her. It turned out his phone battery had run out.
Perceived metamessages of annoyance can snowball, whether or not they were intended. A student recounted in an interview a Facebook message exchange with a friend that, she felt, should have been straightforward but became complicated. She sent a message suggesting they go running later than planned. The friend messaged back, “I guess that’s okay. Fine, see you then.” That little opener, “I guess,” and the unenthusiastic “okay” seemed to imply that she wasn’t thrilled with the change of plans. So the student responded, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be difficult. I’m more flexible than I made it sound. I can actually just do one o’clock like we planned.” That set off a back-and-forth that went four rounds—“No no no let’s do the time you wanna do,” “No no no let’s do the time we said.” Hair-tearing exchanges like these are particularly common among girls and women because, as the student pointed out, they often worry about coming across as too demanding and hurting others’ feelings.
My student Holly DiClemente explained how her peers make creative use of digital features to avoid hurting friends’ feelings. One example is ghost reading—reading a message without opening it, by just reading the preview in the text app, or on your lock screen. If a phone automatically sends “read receipt” notices to let others know their messages have been opened and, presumably, read, ghost reading comes in handy to manage the implied metamessages. If you see from the text notification that a friend is asking if you want to hang out, and you don’t want to but you don’t want to hurt her feelings, you can open the message later and tell her you’re sorry you just got it. The “read receipts” feature can also be used to show you’re mad; it lets someone know you’ve read their message and are intentionally not responding—a visual virtual snub. But there, too, they might think you’re mad when you’re not. Maybe you saw that the message was long, so you put off replying until you’d have more time to read it, or to write a thoughtful response.
Metamessages—intended or not—can reside in just about any aspect of digital communication, even something as minor and automatic as listing recipients’ names when sending email. If you enter the addresses on the “to” or “cc” line, everyone who receives it can see not only who else is getting the message but also what order you put the names in. Two women I interviewed together, Lucy McBride and Annie Finnell, pointed out some of the resulting metamessages: “You feel special when you’re the first one on there,” Lucy said. Annie agreed: “You do. And you feel not special when you’re the last one.” Lucy added, “Because if you’re dead last, it’s like they were thinking, ‘Who am I forgetting?’” To avoid offending those whose names come later or last, you can put recipients’ email addresses on the “bcc” line. But that sends a metamessage, too. It’s what people do when the list of recipients is very long, so “It looks like you’re inviting all of Northwest Washington!”
Anytime there are multiple recipients, metamessages can get complicated. I was part of a group that used email to confer about a joint project. In one such exchange, a member of our group expressed well wishes to another about a medical condition, after which all the others chimed in, echoing the expressions of concern. I was puzzled. I didn’t know whether this flurry of well wishes was related to the ongoing medical challenge I knew this group member had been experiencing, or whether there had been a new and dangerous development I didn’t know about. I asked another group member, who said she was not aware of any new developments either, but wanted to express her general support for our ailing friend. I went ahead and sent my own well wishes, cc’ing only the one who first expressed concern. But then I worried that the others would think me callous and uncaring. I rather regretted having foregone the option of allowing—or forcing--everyone to overhear my well wishes.
Every word we speak is chock-full of metamessages telling others not only how we mean what we say but also who we are. It has always been that way; it’s the only way language can work to communicate ideas and negotiate relationships. With social media, we have ever more ways to do this—and ever more things to worry about, to make sure the self we’re displaying is the one we believe we are—or the one we want to be.
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thatsamericano · 4 years ago
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That Thing That Isn’t Biphobia
Pairings/Characters: America/Romano. America and Japan brotp. Mentions of Belmano and past Prumano. Very brief mentions of Giripan, Gerita, and Lietpol. Human AU.
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Mentions of biphobia and violence (though no actual biphobia or violence). Mentions of ace/arophobia from Alfred’s parents, who don’t appear in the story.
Word Count: 3317
Summary: Alfred thinks he’s biphobic because he gets unreasonably angry and upset whenever he sees his roommate having relationships with men or women. He hates himself for being prejudiced against Savino, but an honest conversation with another friend helps him realize his “biphobia” wasn’t biphobia at all.
Note: Prequel to That Thing Where You Fall In Love With Your Best Friend. Inspired by the reddit story of the “straight” guy who fell in love with his gay roommate and mistook his jealousy for homophobia.
Alfred was supposed to be eating lunch with Kiku today, but after fifteen minutes he had only moved the sushi around the plate with his chopsticks several times. Guilt was gnawing away at his mind, and he couldn’t focus on anything else, even sushi that he knew would be tasty since Kiku had chosen the restaurant this time.
At least he wasn’t nauseous, like he would be when Savino was around his girlfriend.
Emma was perfectly sweet, and Alfred had no reason to dislike her. She was genuinely friendly to him and Tolys, even if her main reason for stopping by the apartment was to spend time with her boyfriend. She and Vinny were affectionate, but they didn’t engage in enough PDA to bother any reasonable person. Yet every time Savino would casually drop his arm around her shoulders and she’d snuggle up to his side, Alfred had to look away to keep his stomach from roiling. Every time he called her some sappy Italian endearment and she giggled and replied to him with something in Flemish, Alfred wanted to drive spikes into his ears just so he’d never have to hear them again. When they kissed in front of him, Alfred felt like screaming or crying, and he didn’t understand why.
The same thing had happened a few months ago when he was hooking up with Gilbert, that albino German dude he’d met because Vinny’s little brother was dating Gilbert’s little brother. Gilbert and Savino didn’t call each other sappy nicknames, because it was just a friends with benefits arrangement, but they did spend a few nights together. One morning, Alfred was in the middle of eating a bowl of Cap’n Crunch when Gilbert emerged from Savino’s room wearing only a pair of boxers. After nearly choking on his cereal, Alfred finished his breakfast as quickly as he could and left the apartment to circle the block five times, which calmed him down enough to refrain from punching some poor guy just for having sex with his roommate. By the time Alfred had returned, Gilbert had left, thank fucking God. But whenever he thought of the things they must have done together or the things Savino had done with Emma, a painful tightness seized Alfred’s chest, and it became extraordinarily difficult to breathe. Even after they had gone back to being just friends, Gilbert liked to visit occasionally, and he liked to tease Savino with comments made him splutter and blush. Every time he saw Savino’s reaction to some comment Gilbert had made, Alfred felt unreasonably angry, and he wanted to wipe that stupid smirk off Gilbert’s face with his fist.
Alfred knew it was wrong. Savino had never judged him for being ace/aro, and Alfred had absolutely no right to judge him for being bi. Savino was an amazing friend and a wonderful roommate, and he deserved all the happiness in the world. He certainly deserved better than living with a biphobic piece of shit like Alfred. What kind of fucked up asshole couldn’t stand to see one of their best friends happy just because the way they were happy was different from what they wanted for themselves?
Alfred hadn’t mentioned a word of how he felt to anyone. He didn’t want to hurt Vinny with this stupid prejudice that came out of nowhere, and he didn’t want everyone in his life to hate him the way he deserved. Savino, of course, wouldn’t want anything to do with Alfred if he knew, and neither would Tolys, who was bi too. All of his friends would be disgusted by the ugly and vicious sentiments Alfred harbored, and he would have to move back in with the shitty parents who thought his asexuality was a silly, immature phase he would grow out of eventually once he really came out of the closet. Even his own twin would want nothing to do with him. Mattie was straight, but unlike Alfred, he was a decent person who would never hate someone for being themselves.
But the sad truth was that he didn’t hate Savino. Vinny didn’t smile that much compared to Alfred, but when he did, it resembled the sun coming through the clouds. When he laughed at Alfred for doing something dumb, Alfred felt giddy, and he wanted to do something even stupider just to hear that beautiful sound again. He was a talented artist and an amazing cook, and Alfred had grown addicted both to Savino’s cappuccinos and to sitting at the counter and chatting with him while he worked. Vinny was like a human space heater, and he always smelled like fancy cologne Alfred wasn’t sophisticated enough to use himself. When they hugged, Alfred never really wanted to let go. The idea of not having Savino in his life was the worst thing Alfred could imagine, so he had to pretend everything was just fine and that nothing had changed.
He was frowning down at his sushi, too heartsick to eat any of it, when Kiku hesitantly spoke up. “Alfred-kun, are you all right? You’ve been unusually quiet, and you haven’t touched your food today.”
Alfred sighed and made eye contact with him. “I’m fine. Just not hungry, I guess.”
Kiku looked worried. “If you aren’t in the mood for sushi, we could go somewhere else. I don’t want you to skip lunch because you were trying to accommodate me.”
Alfred set down his chopsticks, which he hadn’t been using for their intended purpose. “It’s not the sushi, dude. I’ve just been feeling kind of off lately.”
“Off how?”
Alfred hesitated. Kiku was his close friend. In some ways, he understood Alfred better than anyone else because he was asexual too. The only difference was that he was gray-romantic, because he had gotten very close to someone once, and he wasn’t sure if what he’d felt for Herakles years ago was romantic or not.
That meant Kiku might be attracted to guys at least a little. So he would see the way Alfred had reacted to the mere idea of Savino being with a guy as a personal attack, and rightly so. He wouldn’t want to be friends with someone like that, and Alfred couldn’t blame him.
Alfred hunched in on himself and fixed his gaze determinedly on the table top. “You shouldn’t worry about it. It’s a dumb problem, and I need to get over it.”
“But you’re my friend,” Kiku stated plainly. “Of course I’ll worry when you aren’t acting like yourself. I care about you.”
Alfred took a deep breath and blinked his eyes rapidly to stop himself from crying in the middle of a Japanese restaurant, which would unnecessarily embarrass everyone around him. Kiku’s concern only made him feel worse. He didn’t deserve it at all.
“I think I’m a bad person,” Alfred muttered. “I might’ve picked up on some prejudices from my parents, but it’s not like I want to feel this way. And I can’t blame it all on other people. It’s my responsibility to quit being a dick to people for no reason.”
“You’re prejudiced? Against who?” Kiku already sounded annoyed at him, and he hadn’t even heard everything. He’d barely heard anything.
“Bi people, I think. Either that or I just really don’t like Europeans, which isn’t okay either.” Alfred squeezed his eyes shut, dreading Kiku’s reaction.
For a long moment, all Alfred heard was the sound of people at others eating and talking to each other. Finally, Kiku spoke. “Alfred, that doesn’t make any sense.”
“It’s biphobia, dude! Of course it doesn’t make sense.”
“But both your roommates are bi. And European, for that matter.”
Alfred groaned in despair and fisted his hands in his hair. “I know. And if they found out, they’d hate me forever and want nothing more to do with me.” Fuck, if he couldn’t make this go away, he was going to lose two of his best friends. In addition to Kiku, who he’d probably lost already.
“You’ve always seemed so fond of Tolys and Savino.” Weirdly, Kiku didn’t sound pissed off. He sounded like he was trying to reason through a complex math problem. “If you were prejudiced against them, wouldn’t this have come up sooner? You’ve been living with them for years, and you never mentioned having a problem with their orientation before.”
“Because I didn’t have a problem before! I didn’t know I was like this until Vinny started hooking up with that German dude a few months ago. I saw him coming out of Vinny’s bedroom one time, and ever since then I’ve hated Gilbert for no fucking reason.”
“Knowing they’d been together in that way made you uncomfortable?”
Alfred grimaced. “It was more than uncomfortable. More like angry. Really angry. I had to leave the apartment to calm myself down. I still feel like punching something whenever Gil teases him and makes him turn red. And when I think about them doing stuff with each other, my chest feels weird and it’s hard to breathe.”
Alfred dared to glance up at Kiku, who had a carefully neutral expression on his face. “I see. And what about his girlfriend, Emma? She seemed nice when I met her.”
Alfred sighed. “Emma is nice. But it’s a similar deal, only more sappy because they’re an actual couple. I feel queasy when they cuddle on the couch, and I feel so upset when they kiss in front of me, even if it’s not like they’re Frenching for five minutes or whatever. I can’t stand it when I hear them getting all sappy in Italian or Flemish. And I’m just as mad if I think about them having sex, which is why it’s probably biphobia and not homophobia.” Alfred chuckled weakly, disgusted with himself. “Apparently, I’m such a crappy friend I can’t let Savino be happy, even with a girl.” God, Alfred loathed himself.
Kiku’s next question surprised him completely. “How do you feel about Feliks? They’re still with Tolys, aren’t they?”
“Yeah, they are. Feliks is cool. I like hanging out with them. I think I might have accidentally gotten them a little too addicted to Buffy the Vampire Slayer, though.” Alfred smiled fondly at the thought of Tolys’s partner. Feliks was a fun person. Alfred had never had a problem with them.
“Were you ever uncomfortable when they showed affection in front of you?”
Alfred furrowed his brow. “Not that I can think of? But maybe it’s because Feliks and Tolys have been together for a while, so I’m used to it.” They’d been together since before Alfred developed this sudden, unexpected biphobia problem. God, he hoped that he didn’t start hating Feliks too. That would really suck.
Kiku nodded to himself. “I think I’ve figured out what’s going on. And contrary to what you told me, I don’t think you’re biphobic.”
“You don’t?”
“No. I think you’re jealous.”
“But why would I be jealous? Because Vinny goes on dates and hooks up with people, and I’ve never been with anybody? That doesn’t make any sense. I never wanted to be more than friends with somebody.”
Kiku gave him a pitying look. “But I think you do now. I think something must have changed, and now you have feelings for Savino. You were jealous of his most recent partners because you wish you were them.”
For a moment, Alfred was too stunned to say anything. He glanced down at his uneaten sushi. “But I don’t like people that way. I can’t. I never have.” He felt scared because so much of his identity was shifting away underneath him. It hadn’t been easy for Alfred to tell people who he was, especially when he had to explain it to people who wouldn’t inherently understand him the way Kiku did. Not everyone had accepted him. His own parents had made him feel like crap for it. He didn’t want to prove them right, because asexuality and aromanticism weren’t phases.
Every time he told people he was ace/aro, he’d been sure of himself. He’d been more certain of that than anything. But now he didn’t know who he was anymore.
“Alfred, how do you feel about Savino when he isn’t with another person?”
“Just being around him makes me happy. But that could totally be a friendship thing, right? It’s normal to feel happy around your friends. I’m happy around you and Tolys too!” But maybe it wasn’t normal to compare your friend’s smile to the sun or to think that the sound of their laugh was beautiful. Maybe you could enjoy hugging your friends, but something other than friendship was going on if you felt so warm and safe in their arms that you never wanted to let go.
Alfred glanced up into Kiku’s eyes, which were a warm, dark brown, filled with compassion and understanding. He felt calmer looking at his friend’s face, but he didn’t feel enraptured. He didn’t feel mesmerized when he stared into Kiku’s eyes, like he could do nothing but sit across from him and stare at him for hours. He had felt like that with Vinny.
Alfred coughed awkwardly and looked off to the side as he felt heat starting to creep up his neck and over his cheeks. His thoughts were weird, embarrassing, and really confusing.
“How do you feel about the idea of being in a relationship with him?” Kiku asked.
“I hadn’t really thought of it before,” Alfred admitted. “But it doesn’t sound bad.” Not much would change, really. They’d still be close, just in a different way. He’d be the one snuggling up to Vinny instead of Emma, and that would probably feel nice, considering how much Alfred liked hugging him. He’d be the person getting called something like “tesoro,” and the idea of a special nickname made him feel fluttery, just like he felt when Vinny had started calling him “Fredo,” only more intense. And the idea of kissing Savino on the lips instead of just that cheek kissing thing he did with his friends…
Okay, that made Alfred nervous. But not bad nervous, more like “I’m about to go on the biggest rollercoaster at the theme park” nervous. Alfred had always enjoyed the thrill of rollercoasters, the experience of screaming his head off as his heart raced a mile a minute. If kissing could feel like that, then he definitely wanted to kiss Savino. At some point, he might even want to do more than kiss Savino, which wasn’t something he’d ever considered before. The mere fact that he was even thinking about having sex without immediately recoiling said a lot.
Alfred grabbed his drink and quickly slurped up a lot of soda through his straw. He felt like he was about to explode from all the feelings inside him, and the soda helped cool him down a little. He kept a tight grip on the glass afterwards.
“I like him,” he confessed, near tears. “I like Savi so, so much, and I have no idea what this means for me. I don’t understand who I am anymore.”
“You’re the same person you always were, even if you’re discovering something new about yourself. And you’re still my friend. That will never change.”
Alfred released the glass slowly. “Thanks, dude. That means a lot.”
“If you like, I could help you look on the AVEN website sometime. You might not be completely asexual and aromantic, but I’m sure there’s a term out there for what you’re experiencing. It might help you make sense of things.”
“I appreciate that. Don’t get me wrong, I’m really glad I’m not a secretly horrible biphobic asshole, but my head’s kind of a mess right now.”
Kiku chuckled softly. “That’s understandable.”
Alfred finally felt good enough to eat something, so he picked up a piece of sushi with his fingers, since chopsticks were still awkward for him to use, even if he’d eaten with Kiku many times. Fortunately, it wasn’t considered rude to eat sushi with your hands. Alfred chewed his food, and he thought things over. “Vinny has a girlfriend, and he seems really happy with her. Having a crush on him and knowing I have a crush on him is gonna be awkward as hell. Maybe not as awkward as thinking I’m an evil prejudiced monster, but still.”
“I’m sure you’ll manage.”
“I probably shouldn’t tell him that part. But I do want to tell him and Tolys something once I figure all this stuff out. And my brother too. But telling my parents is… God, that’s gonna be a fucking nightmare. They were so shitty to me before, and they’re gonna be really smug and annoying if turns out they were right. I don’t wanna play into stereotypes like that.” Most people who said they were ace/aro didn’t change their minds later, but in his parent’s view, asexuality and aromanticism weren’t real, valid experiences, and any person who said they were asexual or aromantic was lying to themselves and using those labels as a mask for something else. Or maybe they just hadn’t found “the right person.”
Alfred had never intentionally lied about his sexuality, but his parents wouldn’t see it that way. This stupid crush on his roommate was reinforcing stereotypes that hurt people like the really awesome friend who had taken him out to lunch today and helped him realize his feelings, and Alfred felt guilty about that.
Kiku had an uncomfortable look on his face. “It’s not your responsibility to represent all people on the ace and aro spectrums. You have just as much of a right to explore how you feel as anyone else does. I think you should give yourself time to do that and only tell other people about this when you feel ready.”
“Yeah. Yeah, that makes sense. Right now, I don’t even know what to tell people.” Alfred picked up another piece of sushi and started to eat it.
“You told me today. That’s a good start.”
Alfred waited to swallow his bite, and then he gave Kiku a toothy, grateful smile. Kiku smiled back at him, and they finished their lunch together in a much more relaxed mood. Alfred didn’t have the dark cloud of guilt hanging over his head anymore, even if realizing he might be in love with one of his roommates gave him a lot of new things to worry about.
After they finished their food, they split the bill based on what they had ordered. Kiku had to take the bus back to work, so they would part ways outside the restaurant.
Alfred was a little surprised when Kiku inched closer with a shy look on his face and threw his arms around him. He wasn’t normally big on the whole physical affection thing.
Alfred returned the hug and laughed a little. “What’s all this about?”
“After our conversation today, I thought you might need it. Take care, Alfred.”
“Yeah, you too. Talk to you soon, bro.”
Kiku pulled away, nodded, and turned around to start walking to the bus stop. Alfred headed in the opposite direction, and he reflected on what had just happened.
Hugging Kiku was nice, but it didn’t make him feel tingly and floaty like hugging Savino did. Alfred appreciated the hug as a friendly gesture, especially since Kiku wasn’t the world’s huggiest person, but it had been easy to let go of Kiku when he wanted to leave. His arms didn’t feel empty, the way they did when Vinny stepped out an embrace, muttering under his breath about Alfred’s clinginess with a scarlet blush on his face.
Alfred didn’t feel the same way towards Savino he did to his other friends, but that was okay. Alfred was confused and a little scared by everything he’d realized today, but he wasn’t a terrible person, and he would figure things out eventually. He would be okay too.
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queercapwriting · 5 years ago
Note
To be honest I have a headcanon where Lena is like the baby gay and is trying so hard to flirt with Kara aka the oblivious bi mess we all know and love. Then like Lucy and Vasquez in the background and ending up helping the lil' luthor because while it's entertaining it's also mortifying to watch; with a heavy dose of good natured teasing from them towards both Lena and Kara.
“This is getting excruciating,” Vasquez muttered to Lucy, because really, it was.
Lena had been vouched for by a very protective Kara and a very defensive Supergirl and had been screened by a protective (of Kara) J’onn and given the all clear - so she’d been in the DEO about as much as Maggie had been of late.
But at least the older Danvers girl had finally figured out that those butterfly feelings were because she wanted to date Maggie, and when Maggie kissed her back, at least she finally understood that Maggie wanted to date her.
And so, they were dating.
But Kara and Lena?
Good Lord.
Lena was trying her damnedest. Wearing her hair in a high ponytail that made Kara gulp and splutter and go to adjust her glasses even when she wasn’t wearing them as Supergirl.
Leaning over Kara in the lab, Lucy and Vasquez not needing superhearing to know exactly how hard Lena’s heart was pounding as she tried to inch closer to Kara, tried to radiate to Kara that it was okay if Kara leaned in, too, that it was more than okay if Kara leaned in, too.
She was radiating it to everyone. Poor J’onn constantly looked like he had a headache. 
Lena was radiating it to everyone, it seemed, but Kara.
Kara, who kept gaping when Lena walked by and then snapping her head into a sharp shake, clearly telling herself that Lena wasn’t into her, that Lena wasn’t even into women, and Kara should just stop being such a bad friend already.
“I dunno, Vasquez,” Lucy shrugged, leaning back and putting her feet up on Winn’s desk, utterly unconcerned that he was trying to use his computer. “It’s kind of… amusing? Does that make me a terrible person?”
“Your utter disregard for my very advanced technology is what makes you a terrible person, Lane,” Winn muttered. Lucy ruffled his hair and begrudgingly took her feet down from his desk. She put them on his lap instead.
“Now you can use your very advanced technology,” she grinned. Winn glared for a moment before shrugging and continuing to program some complicated tech detector that Lucy only vaguely understood but deeply appreciated.
“And it is, by the way,” Winn added, not even needing to look up from his work to hear Lena’s extra breathy laugh at something utterly less than funny Kara had said. “Both excruciating and hilarious. We should do something to help, though. Because poor Lena. I’ve been there. Kara’s not gonna get it until Lena tattoos it onto her forehead.” He furrowed his brow. “You know what. Maybe not even then.”
He turned and sighed, shaking his head affectionately at Kara. “Seriously. You guys need to save Lena from… this. And J’onn. The man looks like he is suffering.”
“I am suffering, Mr. Schott,” J’onn murmured as he walked by behind them. “Don’t you all have things you need to be doing?”
“Like curing your headache? Sir?” Vasquez asked. J’onn covered his face with his hand, knowing when his children had defeated him. 
“Sure, Agent Vasquez. By all means, assist Ms. Luthor. Just… just don’t think so loudly about it.”
Lucy kicked her feet off Winn’s lap and snapped to attention with a grin. “Thank you, sir.”
“Good God,” J’onn just muttered as he walked away.
“Anything I can do, Papa Bear?” Winn asked.
“You can never call me that again,” J’onn said, but the smile in his eyes was obvious, and Winn didn’t stop grinning for the rest of the day.
+++
“Um, excuse me, Ms. Luthor. Ma’am. Can I borrow you?”
Lena turned away from Kara with raised eyebrows, raw and hopeless want still frozen in her eyes. “It’s Lena, really. Just Lena. I’d prefer it, truly.”
“Ms. Lena. Ma’am.”
Lena sighed and laughed, putting her hand on Kara’s arm. Lucy and Vasquez watched Kara’s heart beat out of her chest at the contact, and it was all either of them could do to not groan aloud.
“I’ll be back,” Lena told Kara, who looked like she was still trying to remember Earth languages. “Lead the way,” she told Vasquez gamely.
But she and Lucy didn’t lead Lena to the lab. They led her to the armory.
“Does J’onn think I need to learn how to defend myself better?” Lena asked, concern in her voice.
“No, actually, he knows exactly how well you can kick ass,” Lucy smirked, hopping up to sit casually on one of the old targets Winn was reprogramming to move in and out of the visible spectrum. 
Vasquez closed the door behind them. “We just needed someplace quiet to talk.’
Lena visibly stiffened. “Have I done something wrong?” Her voice lost all the softness it had been acquiring of late, leaning more toward the stern CEO her mother had trained her to be.
Defense after defense after defense.
Lucy softened and put her hands out to Lena. “No, God, sorry. Listen, I’m a military brat and Vasquez has been a secret agent since birth, I guess we don’t know how to do anything without being…”
“Extra?”
“Terrifying?”
“Extra terrifying?”
“I was going to say suspiciously secretive.”
Lena huffed, but her shoulders relaxed just slightly even as she hugged herself. “Well? What is it, then?”
Lucy Lane was straight - well, not straight, but it was just an expression, after all - out of the JAG Corps, so she didn’t really see much point in indirectness.
“You’re in love with Supergirl. Kara. Everyone knows she’s the same person, it’s not like the glasses exactly do much and it’s not like Alex doesn’t constantly call Supergirl her sister and it’s not like you’re exactly stupid.”
Lena was blinking like her contacts were acting up, and her shoulders were back to being tense.
“I… think she’s still hung up on that first part you said, Luce. The in love part.”
“Yes, I am,” Lena said, barely at a whisper. “I am… I’m not even ou… how did you -”
“Military training.”
“Spy stuff.”
“Also, we have eyes.”
“And ears.”
“And we’ve seen -”
“And heard -”
“You two interact once or twice.”
Lena blinked again. “Do you two ever -”
“Not finish each other’s sentences? Occasionally.” 
“Yeah, but you should see my friends Fitz-Simmons, we’re not nearly as bad as they are,” Vasquez shrugged. “But you’re changing the subject, Ms. Luthor. Ms. - Lena. Crap, okay. Lena. You’re changing the subject.”
“I… okay. Well.” Lena’s shoulders were tense again. Very much so. But there was also something that might have been hope with a dash of excitement in her eyes. Like she finally had people to talk to about… all this.
“Well, what if I were?” She lowered her voice. “In love with Kara?”
“Well then,” Lucy smiled from ear to ear, “we’re going to help you, because honey, Kara is not going to pick up on subtle cues.”
“The consummate disaster bisexual.”
“So she is into girls?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Most definitely.”
“100%.”
Lena visibly relaxed - this conversation really seemed to be wreaking havoc on her nervous system - and bit her lip. 
“Am I really being that pathetic?”
“Not at all,” Vasquez shook her head. “No, you’re just flirting your ass off. And it’s not bad - your flirting or your ass… um. Respectfully. Ma’am.”
“It’s Lena. And thank you.”
“Lena. You’re not being pathetic. It’s just that Kara…”
“Kara is one of the smartest women I’ve ever met,” Lucy said. “She’s also just as a big of a disaster as her sister.”
“Which means?”
“Which means you need our help.”
Lena sighed, her eyes nothing but vulnerable. “But do you think it even would be worth it? Do you think she even feels… anything for me?”
“Oh, she does,” Lucy nodded, her eyes glistening as plan after plan formed behind them. “She definitely does.”
+++
Two hours later, Lucy leaned back onto the desk Kara was standing at, looking over some surveillance footage with Winn. 
Lucy had, over course, fully briefed Winn over comms.
Alex also knew. As did Maggie.
As did J’onn, though much to his dismay, no one had to tell him with their words.
“Hey Kara,” Lucy said, her voice so deliberately casual that Alex rolled her eyes from all the way across the room. 
“Oh Rao, what could you possibly want?” Kara asked, because she might be oblivious when people liked her, but she certainly wasn’t stupid.
“Want? Me? I don’t want anything. World peace, maybe. Or, galactic peace, that would be nice.”
“Lucy.”
“Kara.”
“I’m busy. The whole Supergirl thing?”
“Right,” Lucy said, and Winn looked over his shoulder to exchange an exasperated glance with Alex, who was pretending very badly to be looking over a situation report. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. You’re so busy, all the time now, you know? Big promotion at CatCo, all the chaos here… Have you had any time, you know… for yourself?”
Kara frowned. “You know I do, Lucy. We have game nights once a week, and you know I have sisters’ nights with Alex -”
“I meant sex, Kara.”
“Oh my God.” Winn let his head bang down on his desk and Alex glared at Vasquez like this was all her fault. Lena, per their plan, was nowhere in ear shot.
“Are you making time for sex? Or, dating, if you don’t want to have sex, because that’s, you know, perfectly fine, if you’re not into that. Or either. That’s okay too, but I was just -”
“I am,” Kara grabbed at Lucy’s wrist and lowered it, like the gesture would also lower Lucy’s voice. “Into those things. Sometimes. With the right… person.”
“Okay, cool. And if I thought I found someone right for you… would you… be interested?”
“Are you setting me up, Lucy? Because for a military lawyer turned secret agent, you’re pretty un-subtle.”
Lucy waved her off. “I’m not going for subtly, Kara. You wouldn’t see subtly if it flirted with you right in the face. Which is exactly the problem.”
Kara went to adjust her glasses before realizing they weren’t on. “What are you talking about?”
“Lena,” Alex mouthed from across the room, and Vasquez hit her on the arm before springing to attention and mouthing an apology. Alex grinned, and Vasquez relaxed.
“It’s like when I liked you, Kara, remember?” Winn blurted. “It was years, you know, and you just really… couldn’t tell.”
“Oh, Winn, are you still - I’m so sorry, it -”
“No, no, James and I are doing great. I love you, Kara, but romantically you’re yesterday’s news -”
“And our incestuous dating pool keeps getting more and more mixed,” Lucy grinned, clapping Winn on the shoulder. “You have excellent taste, my friend.”
“As do you,” Winn gave a little bow from his seat.
“Where is this all going?” Kara asked, dropping her voice to Supergirl level, which was when Vasquez happened to be walking by.
“Supergirl. Ma’am. There’s a situation in the lab the requires your attention. Um. Urgently.”
“Smooth,” Alex whispered as Kara nodded efficiently and practically flew down to the lab.
“What’s the situation? Is everything - oh. Oh. This… doesn’t look like the lab.”
Because it really didn’t. Lucy and Vasquez - with more than a little help from Winn and Alex, while Maggie talked Lena through her excitement and terror in the adjacent room, and a bit of help from J’onn, who really just needed his children to stop thinking so loudly about all of this - had transformed the lab into a romantic dinner for two, complete with candles and a couple bottles of wine on ice (including a Kryptonian version for Kara) and a tablecloth Winn had handstitched for his first home date with James.
There were steaming potstickers and pancakes piled high on the table - because it was Kara Danvers, after all, and Lena had insisted on making sure she had her favorite things - and Lucy had insisted right back that Lena was one of them.
Lena had almost believed her when Alex vehemently agreed.
And then there was Lena. 
She wasn’t in a lab coat and - thank Rao - she wasn’t in any danger. Well, danger of passing out from excited nerves, maybe, but it wasn’t some type of emergency like Kara had thought.
“We had it redone. Just for the evening. Alex gave her consent, don’t worry.”
Kara didn’t look worried. No, that wasn’t the word.
Because Lena was in this red dress, subtle but tight and Rao, Kara had never… she wasn’t… words.
Words were failing her. Language was eluding her. Breath was completely escaping her.
“Lena, what…”
“I’ve been told that I’ve been too subtle in my attempts to flirt with you. So we decided - I decided - that it was time to just… tell you.” She straightened up, at once the woman her mother had trained her to be and every bit her own person. It was intoxicating. She was intoxicating.
“Tell me?”
“That I want you. Um. To date you. That you’re my best friend and you’re an enormous dork and your body is almost as beautiful as your heart and Maggie says we should kiss the girls we want to kiss and I -”
But Kara was already across the room, her hands were already on Lena’s waist, her forehead already pressed delicately against hers.
“You want me to kiss you?” Kara asked, in the most heady combination of her Supergirl and Kara voice she’d ever found.
“I do,” Lena whispered, so Kara… Kara did.
“Victory is mine!” Lucy made them both jump, until the combined force of Vasquez, Alex, and Winn dragged her away, leaving Kara and Lena to finally… admit some things to each other.
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nightofthemeteor · 4 years ago
Text
We Just Kind of Assumed
(A ficlet for Mitoka Melee Month - also here on AO3. Warning for implied/referenced homophobia, but this is happy fluff, I promise)
In hindsight, Mito could see how things had turned out this way.
The start of the term found Mito fresh out of high school and new to the city, nervous and excited and as determined to make friends as she was to succeed in her classes. It wasn’t like she’d ever had real trouble making friends before, but this wasn’t her hometown – she didn’t know how things worked here. So Mito studiously attended the welcome events her university sponsored, politely introduced herself to the other girls in her dorm, and cautiously checked out a few of the parties big enough for the invitations to trickle down to freshmen.
It was at a truly terrible house party in the second week of the term where everything started, and it started in a way Mito absolutely hadn’t expected.
She spotted the frat boy several seconds after he’d spotted her, and by that time he was already weaving his way through the crowded, noisy room to come talk to her. Mito, who had been nursing a drink in a corner and pretending she wasn’t acutely aware that she didn’t know anyone here, looked away quickly and tried to look busy – completely impossible, given that she was at a party and had nobody to talk to, aside from the frat boy sidling up to her.
“Hey,” said the frat boy. He was tall, with enough brown hair to shove into a messy bun under a backwards snapback, and by Mito’s assessment, probably good-looking enough that he was used to getting his way. “Are you a new student? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”
Mito bit her lip. She had a feeling she knew where this was going, but she was in no position to pass up conversation. “Yep,” she said, still not quite committing to it.
“That’s cool,” said the frat boy. “I’m in second year.” He leaned his weight on the wall beside her, clearly aiming for casual but coming off as slightly awkward, and said, “You looking for someone to – uh – show you around?”
At least that was quick, thought Mito, wincing internally. That come-on had been about as artful as the moving truck she’d seen crash into one of the dorms last week, but at least this ordeal had been brief. “Sorry,” said Mito – and then found her tongue stuck to the roof of her suddenly dry mouth. She could easily have said I’m not interested, or It’s getting late, I was about to leave, or I suddenly have a case of horrible diarrhea, but…this wasn’t her hometown, and things were supposed to be different here. Mito steeled her nerves, looked the frat boy in the eye, and said, “Actually, I’m a lesbian.”
The frat boy blinked. “Really?” he exclaimed – and then his face lit with an enormous smile. “Me too!”
“What,” said Mito. Shit, had she read this situation totally wrong? She’d just assumed –
“Oh, no – I mean, I’m bi. Sorry. Uh,” the frat boy stuck his hand out towards her, still grinning hopefully. “My name’s Hashirama.”
“Mito,” said Mito, shaking his hand bemusedly. This was – not the reaction she’d expected.
“Sorry about…” Hashirama waved his hand vaguely at the space between them.
“No worries,” said Mito, “But if I’m being honest, your flirting could probably use some work.”
Hashirama clutched his heart with the melodrama of a stage actor, hung his head, and gave the deepest sigh Mito had ever heard. Then, before she could react, his head popped back up, this time with a rueful expression. “Not my best attempt, I’ll admit,” he said. “But in my defense: flirting with girls is extremely scary.”
Mito laughed. She was still reeling from the turn this conversation had taken, but she was also immensely relieved – this was much, much less awkward. “It’s not that scary,” she said, almost automatically, though it wasn’t like she’d had much experience in that department herself. “Is it worse than flirting with boys?”
“Yes,” said Hashirama, and then held up a finger to say, wait – “But boys are terrible at flirting back.”
It only took a couple hours for Mito to find herself on the back steps of the party house, sitting beside an extremely tipsy Hashirama, admitting her fears about this new city, and in return listening to him rant about the guy in his classes he was sure would never like him back.
“Honestly, I was trying to find a way to take my mind off him,” Hashirama told her, big brown eyes shining tearfully in the glow of the streetlamps.
“By trying to pick up random people at this shitty party?” Mito asked. “That’s a terrible idea, Hashirama.”
“Yeah,” said Hashirama, and nudged her shoulder with his knuckles. “Good thing I met the right one, huh?”
They were best friends from then on.
---
Hanging around Hashirama meant that Mito was quickly introduced to his entourage. His friend group was a mix of eclectic and not always exactly harmonious personalities, but at least getting to know them helped reduce Mito’s lack-of-friends problem. There was Hashirama’s brother, Tobirama, who was reserved and cantankerous, but did offer to help her edit her essays, despite being in the same year as her. Then, there was the object of Hashirama’s admiration, Madara, who was loud and cantankerous, but also nice to her in kind of a brusque way.
And there was Hashirama’s cousin, Tōka. Tōka, who was on the women’s softball team, but was also studying engineering; Tōka, who liked to wear flannels and dark red lipstick; Tōka, who was a head taller than Mito, and was even taller than Hashirama in her thick-soled combat boots; Tōka, who had big hands and a sharp wit and a soft smile. When Hashirama introduced her to Tōka, Mito told the story of how Hashirama had introduced himself to her, sparing none of Hashirama’s feelings in the recounting, and Tōka reached out and squeezed her shoulder.
“I like this one, Hashirama!” She declared, and Mito, overwhelmed by Tōka’s dizzying grin and Tōka’s warm hand on her shoulder, nearly melted into the floor. In her desperation to conceal the blush she could feel heating her face, it never occurred to Mito that she hadn’t explicitly said she’d turned Hashirama down.
It didn’t take long for Mito to formulate a plan. It was simple, but then, nothing complicated was called for in this circumstance – not like Hashirama’s convoluted attempts to get Madara’s attention. Mito’s plan was as follows:
Become friends with Tōka.
Flirt with Tōka.
Ask Tōka out on a date.
It was simple; it was straightforward; and the first step was successful almost immediately. Tōka and Hashirama were roommates, so just by virtue of hanging out with Hashirama, Mito ended up spending time with Tōka. Over the course of a couple weeks, Mito learned that Tōka’s easygoing attitude was shot through with a serious competitive streak – just like Hashirama, although, as Mito learned, Tōka had better alcohol tolerance. She wasn’t as outgoing as her cousin, but it took very little effort on Mito’s part to strike up conversation. But most importantly, Mito learned that just like her cousin, Tōka gave physical affection as easily as talking. She’d casually brush aside a strand of Mito’s hair from her face, or sling an arm around her shoulders, or run a hand up Mito’s back to get her attention. Mito wasn’t used to that kind of casual closeness – it was driving her insane. Not that she really minded.
The problem was that Mito couldn’t tell if Tōka’s touches indicated interest, or were purely friendly. After all, Hashirama also had a habit of resting his hand on Mito’s shoulder, and of ruffling her hair (especially when she’d just finished tying it up) – and despite the way their friendship had started, Mito was certain he wasn’t interested in anything other than friendship. And here was the reason Mito’s plan was stalling on step 2: she could return Tōka’s touches, she could lean close to her over the study table or cuddle next to her on the couch, or reach out and tangle their hands together…but Tōka accepted all this without so much as blinking. Mito couldn’t tell if she even noticed.
Other people, however, certainly did notice. Hashirama picked up on what was happening almost right away, and immediately offered to be Mito’s wingman. Mito, having observed her friend’s own bumbling attempts at romance, politely refused this offer, but was privately relieved that he didn’t seem to mind her interest in his cousin (and was secretly elated that he thought she had a chance). Unfortunately, she couldn’t prevent him from sending her exaggerated winks from behind Tōka’s back. As supportive as Hashirama was, it came as an unpleasant shock to Mito that his brother, Tobirama, was most certainly not on board. More than once, Mito would put an affectionate hand on Tōka’s shoulder or laugh at one of her jokes, and feel Tobirama’s glare like ice on the back of her neck. Mito couldn’t figure out what his problem was – did he not think she’d be a good fit for his cousin? Or, was it possible…he didn’t approve because she was a girl? Mito couldn’t believe that was the case – Hashirama was pretty open about his bisexuality, after all, and Tobirama didn’t have a problem with him – but against all logic, Mito found she couldn’t shake the specter of doubt.
Then, three weeks into the term, Mito’s roommate came down with the flu, and Hashirama offered to let Mito crash at his place for a few days. Mito expected to be sleeping on the living room couch, but Hashirama insisted that, as the guest, she should take his bed. They compromised with Mito on an air mattress on Hashirama’s floor, and Mito spend the next couple of nights enduring his truly awful snoring. Yet again, it never occurred to Mito that this decision might have unforeseen consequences (aside from the snoring), and so, two days later, when Mito tried to join Hashirama and Madara for a study session at their local coffeeshop, she was absolutely baffled when Madara snapped his textbook shut and announced, “I’m leaving.”
“What the hell?” said Mito, watching his retreating back.
Hashirama heaved a sigh so pitiful that it reminded Mito of the way her dog would sigh if you stopped petting him for a moment. “Something’s been up with him for a while,” he said, miserably, “But it’s gotten worse all of a sudden. I have no idea what it is.”
“I mean, you probably did something to piss him off,” Mito informed him, reasonably, “But what did I do?”
Amidst this weird hostility from both Madara and Tobirama, Mito was relieved to find that Tōka, at least, was still friendly with her. That was a side benefit of crashing at Hashirama’s place – she got the chance to spend a lot of extra time with his roommate. Mito had plenty of time to work herself up to step 3 of her plan: ask Tōka on a date.
She dropped the invitation oh-so-casually, with calculated thoughtlessness; no sense making it out to be a big deal. “Want to grab a coffee with me tomorrow?”
“Sure thing,” said Tōka, barely looking up from her phone, and Mito, despite the apparent success of her invitation, felt her heart sink. That wasn’t exactly the response she’d expect from someone who’d just been asked out.
Still, she forged on: “Maybe at 4? You’re out of class by then, right?”
Tōka looked up at that, and then, to the confused delight of Mito’s heart, gave her one of her long, slow smiles. “Yep, you got it. I’ll see you then,” she said, and Mito once again began to hope.
She was thinking of that smile as she agonized over her outfit the next day – it had to be casual, ordinary, but still perfect – styled her hair extra carefully, debated over whether to wear lipstick, and finally headed to the coffeeshop exactly on time. Tōka was already there, waiting in line. Mito’s heart began to race – she called Tōka’s name, and Tōka turned around, saw her standing there –
And a look of unease passed over her face. It was just a flicker, just a moment, so that Mito could almost believe she’d imagined it; even so, Mito felt her heart drop. This wasn’t what she’d been hoping for at all. But it was too soon to back out, and so Mito pasted on a cheerful smile and went to meet her friend for coffee.
The drinks were tasty, but the conversation was stilted, awkward in a way it never had been before. Mito had been imagining taking Tōka’s hand across the table, stealing her drink, maybe even sliding into the same side of the booth – but now she could only watch as Tōka’s eyes slid past her face. Mito could only think of one explanation for this change, and it didn’t take long for her worst fears to be confirmed.
“Um, I’m really sorry for asking,” Tōka said, for once looking uncomfortable instead of self-assured, “But…is this a date?”
Oh no, thought Mito. She had no choice but to be honest – no point in lying to her friend – but this one was seriously going to hurt. “I was kind of hoping so,” she admitted, and wondered if she could make it back to her room before the tears came. "But it's fine - " her voice choked a little; she forced the words out, "If you don't like me that way - it's fine."
“Mito…” Tōka no longer looked just uncomfortable; she looked wretched, so much so that Mito was a little taken aback. She seized her short black hair in both hands and said, as if the words were torn from her: “I like you – I like you so much. You’re beautiful and smart and fucking great and I just – I don’t – why are you doing this to me?”
“What?” said Mito, startled enough to forget her impending tears. She’d been expecting Tōka to at least let her down gently.
“I thought Tobirama was insane when he said you were flirting.”
“Wh…why would that be insane?”
“Because it’s wrong,” said Tōka, with such conviction that Mito felt as though she’d been slapped. Wrong? Mito hadn’t expected to hear that here, not from her friend, not from Tōka. She felt as though her stomach was trying to climb out her throat. Had her suspicions about Tobirama been right after all?
The words came out low and angry, in a voice Mito barely recognized as her own. “What do you mean, ‘wrong’?”
“Hashirama’s my cousin,” said Tōka, anguished, “I can’t do this to him.”
Once again Mito was thrown for a loop. Why would Tōka think that Hashirama would disapprove of her dating a girl? “Hashirama’s bi,” she said, utterly confused.
Tōka leveled an accusatory look at her. “Just because he’s bi doesn’t mean he’s polyamorous.”
“Wait – what?”
“What?”
The two of them stared at each other across the table. Then, finally, the pieces began to fit together in Mito’s frazzled brain. Slowly, she asked, “Did you think I was dating Hashirama?”
Tōka’s eyes were locked on hers. “You mean…you’re not?”
“Oh my god,” said Mito. She slammed her hands on the table, startling them both, and practically shouted, “NO! No, I’m not dating him! I’m gay! GAY! One hundred percent lesbian!”
Out of the corner of her eye, Mito could see the people at the nearby tables staring at them; in front of her, Tōka covered her mouth with her hand and let out an uncharacteristically high-pitched giggle. “Okay! I get it. But…I don’t understand…”
“Did Hashirama say we were dating? If he did, I’m going to murder him.”
“No, he never told us, exactly, but like – he went out hoping to meet someone, and then suddenly you were always with him. I guess we just kind of assumed?”
“Oh my god,” said Mito again. She jabbed a finger at Tōka. “You nearly gave me a heart attack, you know! I thought you were homophobic or something!”
“No, no!” said Tōka, waving her hands in front of her, “I like girls! I swear!” She planted in face in her hands and said, through her fingers, “I like you! I felt so guilty when I realized.”
Mito, grinning so hard her cheeks hurt, reached out and tugged Tōka’s hands away from her face. “You like me?”
“Yeah,” said Tōka, breathless and holding Mito’s hands, and looking at her with the same expression of disbelief and joy Mito could feel on her own face. The world spun; the only thing holding Mito to the ground was the feel of Tōka’s hands in hers, and then –
Mito suddenly had a thought. “Wait,” she said. “Who’s ‘we’?”
“Huh?”
“You said, ‘We just kind of assumed’. Who else thinks Hashirama and I are dating?”
Tōka blinked at her. “Uh, definitely Tobirama, but probably most of his friends too.”
“Holy shit,” said Mito.
23 notes · View notes
deliasbabe · 5 years ago
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Sarah Paulson Characters and jealousy headcanons:
NSFW I guess?
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Billie Dean Howard:
She’s literally so jealous anytime anyone gets close to you or flirty, even if you two are just keeping things casual.
If you show up at an event with someone else she for sure gets possessive af
She’ll keep her distance and just watch you for a while, but the second your date gets a little too close and touchy she gets heated
She’s all about appreciation of the art, but it’s a fine line with her.
It’s like a game for her, she waits until you see her and then she gets super flirty with someone she doesn’t care about
But when you don’t seem to take notice, she makes a move over to you.
She’ll start off the conversation innocent, but with a possessive grip on your shoulder
The more interest you show in your date or the more interest they show in you, the worse it gets. Bitchy glares are exchanged, the level of flirtation rapidly rises, she keeps her face only inches from yours. Her hands are touching you whenever possible.
So many pet names and innuendos are dropped
She’s definitely the “I can see other people but you’re mine” type.
And you know exactly what she’s doing and you secretly live for it
Sometimes you get extra flirty with your date just because you know you’ll have her attention
You are completely aware you have her wrapped around your finger and you definitely use it to your advantage
She thinks she’s in control but you know if you play your cards right she’ll give you exactly what you want
And because you enjoy driving her crazy, you play coy and excuse yourself and your date to go dance or talk to some friends
Then you get even more flirty and she is LIVID
Now she can’t even enjoy this damn party because she can’t take her eyes off of you.
And the second you stray away from your date she is grabbing you and dragging you to the nearest empty room for mind blowing sex
And you make sure she knows that SHE was the one who wanted to see other people and keep it casual, so you aren’t the one to blame
Because you’ll be damned if she gets away with this without admitting it’s not just casual
“If we’re just casual then let me go back to my date”
“Oh baby girl this is anything but casual.”
And that’s all you needed to cave
She won’t leave you alone until you are practically screaming that you’re hers and covered in hickeys that your date will definitely see.
When it’s over and you go to compose yourself she shoves your underwear in her pocket
“Hey I need those”
“You can get them when you come to my place tonight, sweetheart”
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Lana Winters:
First of all, she’s Lana fucking Winters, she doesn’t get jealous
But whenever she sees someone get a little too close to you she likes to tease you about it
Only because she knows if she pretends to be a little jealous it’ll just make you feel the need to prove how much you are hers and hers alone.
She just likes to hear you tell her how much you love her
Even though she already knows
She especially teases you when men flirt with you.
“I see you found yourself a new husband.”
Which never fails to make you giggle uncontrollably
Because you’re like so gay dude
And you joke about it all night
And it becomes a running joke
“Oh is that your 5th husband?”
You now have like 12 husbands
“It’s getting so hard to keep track darling. You know I don’t like to share.”
She’ll never admit it but she secretly likes when others hit on you because it just reminds her how lucky she is that you are hers.
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Cordelia Goode:
Cordelia Goode is graceful and elegant and is just not the type to show she’s outwardly jealous
But internally? Oh yea
She knows you are a gentle soul and are kind to everybody, but she still has insecurities
Mostly because she feels like she doesn’t give enough time to you or she feels like she’s too old.
She thinks you’ll find someone better
So she keeps it cool when you are out in public and it happens, and she won’t actually tell you she’s jealous even when you two make it home.
But she tends to be a little more affectionate
She just wants you to hold her and remind her you love her
Which you give happily because you would scream about it from the rooftops if you could
But there was this one time
It was before you were dating, you were flirty with each other but she was too scared to tell you she had feelings for you
And you were totally clueless but everyone else could see it
You had agreed to go out with Madison and she made sure to tell Cordelia that it was her mission to get you laid that night
And she casually mentioned you going out in a conversation just so you would invite her along
She justified it to herself that she was just going to make sure you didn’t get hurt
But when she saw some guy flirting with you at the bar and you actually looked interested she was done for
So she walked up and placed her hand on your lower back and asked if you were doing ok
And when he didn’t excuse himself and kept flirting she just couldn’t take it anymore
Cordelia Goode never uses her powers for her own personal gain, but she did that night
And suddenly he was saying he had to go and she had you all to herself
And she glanced up and Madison was smirking at her from across the bar
After she had thrown a few too many drinks your way, you told her how beautiful she was and how anyone would be lucky to have her
“Seriously if you were my girlfriend I would die”
“Miss Y/N, are you telling me you want me to be your girlfriend?”
And the drinks had made you a little bolder, so you smirked and said “maybe I am.”
Oh yea, you definitely got laid that night
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Bette & Dott:
Oh the twins definitely get jealous.
Like insanely jealous, but they handle it in different ways.
They’re just really insecure, ok?
Bette is the one who cries/pouts because she knows you’ll tell them how much you love them and think they’re beautiful.
Dot tends to bottle it up, but she can’t help but be agitated, which usually means the silent treatment for her.
Bette seems to recover quickly one you reiterate that you love them
But Dot isn’t as easily convinced as her sister by your kind words. She’s more of an action kind of girl.
So after you quell Bette’s fears, you turn to Dot and stare at her for a moment with a loving and apologetic look in your eye
And once her eyes soften a bit you lean in to kiss her cheek and she melts
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Sally:
This goes without saying but Sally is crazy jealous
Literally if she could tie you to the bed and keep you all to herself she would
But you tend to be a social person and like to frequent the bar
Usually it’s with her, but sometimes you get off of work and head straight there without her knowing, and most times by the time she’s reached you, you have taken up conversation with one of the residents or it’s visitors
And BOY does she hate that
She tends to be better about the ghosts, but if you are talking with a living human being she LOSES it
And you can tell when she’s mad and you try to sweet talk her, but if she deems you too interested you can bet things will get scary kinky later on, with or without your consent
But let’s be honest, you love that she’s this crazy over you.
One time she saw you talking to the countess and held a knife to your throat as she fucked the shit out of you
She’ll never believe you but you would die and stay with her forever if you could
And despite her crazy possessive moments, you know she could never hurt you, not really,
So you let her do it because you secretly love the thrill of it
Also it’s kind of the hottest sex ever?
Like she won’t leave you alone until you’ve cum so much you practically pass out
And she always apologizes and takes care of you after she knows for sure you’re hers.
Literally the queen of aftercare.
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Audrey:
She literally gets so pouty when she’s jealous
You hate that you make her feel that way, but you also love how cute and loving she gets when she’s pouty
One time at an event you were talking with Kristen Stewart and she got so jealous
She’s a drama queen, so she made sure to mope for a little bit before she pitched a fit and ran outside in the rain
And while you were frustrated because you were just talking, you know she just cares about you a whole lot and this is scary for her.
So you ran after her and let her yell at you about how you were going to leave her for a younger woman even tho you damn well knew you were going to spend the rest of your life with her
She really just wanted her “the notebook” moment ok?
And then once she was done you just smiled at her
Which of course made her curse at you
And you just kept smiling until she ran out of things to say and finally smiled back
And she asked you what you were smiling about
“You.”
And you walked up and kissed her
Because you are more than willing to put up with her theatrics as long as she’s happy and with you
And by the end she was laughing at her hysterics.
But she still swatted at you for teasing her
And then you begged her to let you take her home and she agreed
Because there’s nowhere she would rather be than alone with you
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Ally Mayfair-Richards:
Despite what happened with Ivy, Ally isn’t one to get jealous
She just thinks the whole idea is toxic, and she never mentions a word about it to you
Expect you start to notice on the nights you go with her to functions and fundraisers, she tends to get a little more attentive
Especially when you have been talking with other women
She’s always grabbing your hand and pulling you closer
And she never fails to whisper in your ear about how much she loves you
If you spend too much time talking with another senator she tends to whisper dirty things in your ear
And her top definitely comes out
She’s not the type to do anything in public, but the second you walk in the door she’s practically taking off your clothes
She’s a gentle top tho, she never does anything without your explicit permission
And she never goes too far
She just wants to make sure you know you are hers and she loves you
And you are happy to oblige
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Venable:
So Venable is incredibly possessive
Partially it’s that she’s super insecure, and partially it’s that she is a top in every aspect of her life
However, you work together and she doesn’t want anyone to think you are getting special treatment, so you keep your relationship a secret
But that means that everyone thinks you are single, and at work parties you are constantly dodging weird dudes who want to get you into bed
And despite your best attempts at fighting them off, you still can’t bring yourself to just tell them to fuck off and they tend to push father than they should
And she watches you carefully, knowing your kind demeanor and inability to be mean. Really, she just wants to protect you.
So when you make eye contact with her across the room and give a pleading look, she steps in and tells them to scram for you
But sometimes you don’t look at her, and that’s when she gets jealous
And she doesn’t interrupt you, but she can’t bring herself to look away and she gets angry that she cares so much about you
And when you finally slide up and talk to her, she tends to be colder than usual
But she hates being mean to you and can’t even bring herself to look you in the eye
And you can’t help but feel like a lost puppy every time
So you usually leave the party early, and when she notices you are gone she goes after you and knocks on your apartment door
And once she sees your red rimmed eyes she caves like nobody’s business.
And that’s the only time you two ever really hug
She’s not into PDA, even in private, but she holds you for awhile and tells you she’s sorry
She won’t admit she was jealous tho until you coax it out of her slowly
And you ask her to let you show her how much you love her
After, and I can not stress this enough, soft sex that ends up real kinky
She lets you undress her and touch her back, but as soon as you try to take control she’s flipping you over and tying you up
Literally the only way you get to make her cum is if she sits on your face
Usually that happens first and then she tortures you for hours until you are begging
And despite your tears she knows you love it
Because y’all have a safe word, although it is never used
Because you trust her and honestly, she thinks that might be even more important than love for her
Because even she can admit her tastes are rather sadistic
But you’ll happily submit
She tends to be not so great at aftercare in general, but after her jealous episodes she doesn’t protest when you crawl into her arms and kiss her cheek
Because she tends to be a lot little rougher on you
You tend to go to bed earlier while she stays up and reads, so often times you end up falling asleep on her lap
And she’ll never admit it but it’s kind of her favorite thing
Like her glancing up from her book and seeing you asleep on her chest never fails to make her heart melt like a popsicle.
And when you grasp on tightly to her nightgown? She would kill for you
When she’s absolutely sure you are asleep, she tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and whispers how much she loves you and how much that scares her
Also forehead kisses?
And she loves how sleepy you are when she wakes you up
Especially that little whine you make
“What Mina?”
“We need to get to sleep, little one.”
And you never fail to curl back up and pretend you didn’t hear her so she leans down to whisper in your ear lowly
“I know you heard me princess, get up before I have to punish you.”
And that never fails to make you scramble
And she always sings your praises for it as she chuckles
And suddenly she can’t remember why she ever was jealous because you are obviously infactuated with her
381 notes · View notes
ratedbangtann · 5 years ago
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𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥 𝐓𝐨𝐩 | 𝙎𝙚𝙤𝙠𝙟𝙞𝙣 𝙭 𝙋𝙡𝙪𝙨-𝙎𝙞𝙯𝙚 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 
𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙹𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚊 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜, 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚞𝚌𝚔. 𝙷𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞...
                                     Pairing: Seokjin/Plus Size Reader Word count: 5k Warnings: feeding kink, playful sex, dom/sub, body worship, pussy slapping, fingering, unprotected sex 
a/n: another plus size fic for all y’all thiccccc queens. i hope you love it as much as i loved writing it. can’t you just see jin loving a chubby girl who loves food as much as he does? this is purely self-indulgent... 
                                    As if you weren't already rushing about and panicking enough, your hear your phone ding from beside the bathroom sink, a text message popping up.
Just got in a cab, see you in 15 xx
It was from Jin. And you were nowhere near ready.
In fact, you still had your leg propped up on the edge of the bath, desperately shaving every pesky little hair from every crack and crevice you possibly could. God, this would be so much easier if had less damn cracks and crevices in which to remove unwanted body hair from. This was possibly the only thing you hated about your damn curves; the upkeep.
"Shit, shit shit..." you muttered to yourself, carefully yet ferociously attacking yourself with your razor. As if by some miracle, you didn't catch your skin. Disaster averted.
You washed the remainder of shaving cream off your body and draped a towel around your shoulders. You didn't bother spending 10 minutes trying to tie it perfectly so that one, it stayed up and two, the inevitable gap in the fabric would cover up your modesty. Waste of time. You already had your outfit laid out; a nice red silk dress, a little higher than ankle length, that you felt hugged your curves perfectly and hid the 'problem areas' well. Not that you thought you had problem areas; you loved your damn body how it was. And why shouldn't you?
However, tonight was your first official date with Kim Seokjin; Korean super idol and self-proclaimed worldwide handsome. Quite how this came about, you're still not entirely sure. You knew him by name and face, working at his brother's side as head of marketing for their superior restaurant chain and of course, you had fallen under his ridiculously charming spell rather quickly - you were only human. But who asked who out still kind of remained a mystery...
You definitely remember him visiting the restaurant you held your office in a lot more after the first time he had met you. And you definitely remember you memorising his order to make sure it was already cooking when he was seated at his regular favourite table. And you remember casually joining him for food a few times, sort of like unofficial dates but...
When he had asked you if you wanted to try out a different kind of restaurant to "scope out the competition" - which actually was part of your job as head of marketing - you didn't quite catch on that he was asking you on a real, proper date. At least, not until this morning, when he had an obnoxiously large bouquet of assorted red flowers sent to your home address with a card that read,
Excited for this evening. Will you wear something red? KSJ xx
And so here you were, slithering your body into the red dress you had picked out. It was your favourite and clearly, the colour was Jin's. The rather suggestive slit in the side of the material showed just enough leg that you felt comfortable and hopefully put the idea of bare skin in Jin's mind.
Oh yes, tonight was about that. You were doing your utmost to bed Kim Seokjin. You had had enough of the flirting and the sideways glances. Enough of the brushing of hands and subtle little winks your way. You'd even almost kissed once, you're sure of it. Before Jin's brother knocked on your office door and interrupted a casual conversation laced with hidden meanings.
In your dress, you felt powerful. Really goddamn powerful, like no amount of music awards, album sales or video views was going to intimidate you tonight. That was, until you looked in the mirror.
The material didn't quite sit right around your tummy. It bunched where it shouldn't and highlighted the extra pounds you had.
Damnit, this is my only red dress, you thought to yourself.
And now, you faced a dilemma.
Wear the dress with the lingerie you had picked out, which was causing this bunching. This means that if the possibility of sex does arise, you will look more gorgeous out of the dress than in it.
or...
Wear your control top granny knickers that sucked you in just enough to stop the bunching of the material and look as slim and smooth as humanly possible, therefore enhancing the chances of said sex to begin with.
With minutes to spare, you didn't have time to pick out a new outfit, and it had to be red. It just had to. So, control top panties it was. If the sex happened, you'd just have to excuse yourself to "freshen up" before things got too hot and heavy. In fact, you hid the lingerie you had been wearing in the cupboard in your en suite.
With your heels on, your now smoothly flowing dress and your delicious curves protruding perfectly, you felt ready. Even your cleavage in the silk was looking particularly delectable. Just a few final touches to your hair in the mirror before the bell to your apartment rang out.
You picked up your purse and headed to the front door. When you opened it, there he stood, in all his handsome glory.
He was wearing a tux; crisp, black, simple and classic. His dark hair was styled off his forehead, just how you loved it and he was wearing the thin rimmed circular glasses that made him look smarter than any man you had dated before.
He didn't say anything at first, simply stared at you; your make up, your hair, that dress, your body... God, he loved it.
"You look... Wow. Suppose I won't be the best looking person in this restaurant tonight after all."
You giggled at that. Of course, he'd say that. How much cheesier could he be? How much more predictable? But you didn't care. It was one of the many reason you liked him so much.
"Maybe just the best looking male occupant of said restaurant?" You teased, soothing his bruised ego.
"I can live with that, for tonight," he held his arm out for you to thread yours around his elbow and escort you down to the waiting cab. As you closed your door and headed down the hallway to the elevator, Jin continued his teasing. "But this can't happen every night, okay? I'm willing to let you take the title tonight, but we gotta share in future. Deal?"
"I'll try my best," you smiled.
****
You meal was nice. No really, it was. The food was great, the atmosphere of the restaurant was great, but that's all it was; just nice. Because frankly, you couldn't concentrate on a damn thing with Kim Seokjin sat opposite you and quite clearly going out of his way to tease and flirt with you.
He sussed out very quickly that you had a thing for his lips, so plump and thick and you could only imagine what they would feel like against your skin. You couldn't stop staring and he noticed. Now that he knew this, or at least thought he did, he was playing up to it.
He'd bite down on it and hold eye contact with you while he did, or brush his fingers along them, or seductively take a mouthful of food from his chopsticks; how that is even possible you've no idea. Chopsticks make eating a little less elegant, and yet it absolutely didn't for him.
He played little games with you all evening, making little jokes, flirting away and the god damn lips thing.
So maybe, it was time to give him a taste of his own medicine.
Starting with the slit in your dress; you angled your body slightly, readjusting the way you were sat to show a little more of your upper thigh through that scrumptious slit in your dress. He noticed, and you noticed him noticing. His eyes were diverted to the bare skin you were showing off and his fumbled on the sentence he was halfway through.
You had to hold in a giggle, watching him unable to take his gaze away.
"Jin, may I ask you a... perhaps invasive question?" you cocked an eyebrow, waiting for his attention to draw back up to your eyes.
"Hmm? Oh, um... " he coughed - one of those cover-up coughs to disguise the fact he was openly staring at your bare thigh. "Sure, go ahead."
"Well, I'm clearly a woman with a few extra pounds, to be polite; inevitable really when you work in a restaurant chain and are surrounded by delicious and free food day in, day out. However, you still find me attractive?" His brows knit in confusion.
"Well, yes... Should I not?" Your heart leapt. Clearly, he wasn't as closed minded as the majority of Korean people about their standards of beauty. Beautiful face, beautiful mind... check and check.
"No, if you think I'm attractive then good; you have eyes," you mirrored his ego as best as you could. Yes you loved your figure but you were always still so... insecure underneath. He smirked at you though, buying your confidence and raised his glass to take a sip. "However, my question to you is," you leaned forward a little resting your chin on your hand supported by your elbow, your cleavage on display, "have you always had a thing for a fat girl?"
The liquid in his wine glass bubbled and splashed as he spluttered, choking in surprise. He tried to recover quickly, dabbing his mouth with his napkin. You giggled at the outburst and his attempt to keep calm, finding it oh so amusing.
"Apologies, I just, um... wasn't expecting-" You held a hand up to stop him.
"It's fine, I was just teasing," you picked your own napkin up, wiping away a droplet of wine from his glasses.
"I have though," he said, so casually as if he hadn't just almost drowned in his wine glass.
"Hmm?"
"Had a thing for fat girls, as you so affectionately put it," he smirked, biting his damn lip again.
"What, is fat a bad word?"
"Oh, no, I was just..." he panicked again. You laughed.
"Jin, shut up. 'Fat' isn't negative to me. It's what I am, not who I am. If you like your women to have that extra chub, then... lucky me," you raise your own wine glass to your lips, taking a sip with a little wink in his direction.
Jin felt a stirring in his trousers at the way you owned that word, the way you teased him, the way your red painted lips sipped at your wine. He'd been having trouble keeping his hands to himself all night, but ever the gentleman he kept it to a little light flirting. But there was never anything light about his flirting.
"Your confidence; it's extremely sexy, y/n." He leaned forward on his elbows.
"Don't mistake my acceptance of myself as confidence. I, too, still get discouraged day to day," you said, thinking back to earlier and seeing the way the dress hung on you to begin with.
"Don't we all?" he asked.
"Madam, sir... your desserts," you server appeared out of nowhere, a tray with your final courses balanced perfectly in his hand. "Classic tiramisu for the lady," he placed the dessert in front of you, "and green tea layer cake for the gentleman. Enjoy," he bowed as he placed Jin's dessert in front of him, scurrying away to leave the two of you by candlelight once again.
The two of you wasted no time in digging in, and with the first mouthful you fell into what can only be described as heaven. As the food melted on your tongue, you couldn't help but let out a small moan of approval.
Jin froze, watching you... Your moan caught his attention, the stirring in his trousers starting to bother him immensely. He loved food, but watching someone else love food... Someone like you; he couldn't control his urges much longer.
He started to tap his foot in annoyance, his knee bouncing. He became fidgety, wolfing down his cake quickly in an attempt to speed up the last few moments of the evening. He wanted nothing more than to take you home.
And you noticed all of it. So naturally, you played up to it.
"Oh god, it's so good..." you huffed, mouth half full. You scooped up another mouthful, holding it towards Jin, "Do you want to try?" you asked, innocently.
"No, thank you." His jaw clenched back into place. You were loving this.
You took the bite for him, letting out another approval moan and watching from under your lashes as his gaze lay intently on you and he adjusted the tightness of his tie to give himself more room to breathe.
As you neared the end of your dessert, Jin flagged down the server and impatiently asks for the bill. The server nods, scuttling away to bring over the leather wallet. Jin is already prepared with his card in his hand.
By the time you've finished up, dinner is paid for. You server clears the table and Jin, still remaining chivalrous, takes your hand to help you stand, places your purse over your shoulder and proceeds out of the restaurant with you in tow.
He hails for a cab, opening the door and letting you climb in first. The ride home, you chatter mindlessly with him, and although he seems interested his mind is wandering. His thigh is so close to yours, your interlocked hands sat just above the slit in your dress, so close to bare skin... He wants to touch, wants to feel how beautiful you are, not just see it.
The cab pulled up outside your apartment, and Jin paid the driver. You tried to pay, at least for something this evening but he wouldn't allow it.
The walk up to your apartment was quiet, your fingers still locked together affectionately, until you had to find your keys and unlock your door.
You turned around to face him, standing in the doorway. Jin made no effort to step inside or invite himself in; but you were about to do that for him.
"Thank you for a lovely meal, Seokjin," you smiled, leaning against the doorframe and looking up at him with a smile.
"My pleasure, y/n. Somewhere different to eat than the place you work, for a change," he smiled back, plunging his hands into the pockets of his slacks.
"It was a lovely place. Maybe we should do it again some time?"
"I'd like that, a lot."
A silence fell on you both as you watching him rock on the balls of his feet uncomfortably.
"Well, I'd better um... get going then," he leaned forward, planting a small and affectionate kiss on your cheek, but lingering as he pulled back.
His eyes darted down to your lips, contemplating. He wanted to, so bad. Did you want him to? Should he ask? Your eyes met, the tension between you feeling like static electricity.
Kiss me, Jin. Just kiss me. Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me! You hoped that perhaps he would be telepathic and hear you yelling at him with your mind. Perhaps he was...
His lips leaned in, the same lips you had been watching so closely all evening, and pressed to lightly on yours, testing the waters.
Almost immediately, you apply a little pressure to mould your lips together. You feel one of his hands tangle in your hair as you stand up straight, coming away from leaning against the doorframe. You place a hand on his chest, as he deepens the kiss with his free hand on your waist. The space between you is now minimal, Jin's broad shoulders and height almost engulfing you.
"Maybe you'd like to stay..." you said as you pulled away, looking up into his eyes. "For one last drink?" Jin only nodded, crushing his lips on yours and pushing you back into your apartment. He shut the door behind him, before resuming another very heated kiss.
"I-I don't have any wine in," you say, breathing heaving between kisses.
"I'm not thirsty," he confesses, continuing to back you into your apartment towards the door he assumed was your bedroom.
Along the way you shed him of his tuxedo jacket, the heavy material landing with a thud along the floor somewhere. You were working on his bow tie when the backs of your legs hit the bed. With the tie discarded you made light work of his shirt buttons, untucking it from his slacks but as you tried to pull it off him, he pushed your shoulders down. Your balance faltered and you hit the bed, Jin immediately between your legs and hovering above you, his bare chest inches away and his lips on your neck.
You had always loved neck kisses, the tickle of them so playful until he reached that weak spot where your neck met your shoulder. You let out a shaky breath, a small moan following much like the ones you made to tease him earlier.
His hand found its way to your thigh, slipping between the slit of your dress that he'd been eyeing up most of the evening. Finally, he could touch the skin, caress, stroke you and feel you. He slid his hand further up your thigh, wanting nothing more than to strip your clothing and get as close to you as humanly possible.
His fingertips grazed over the material of your underwear, the lycra of them somewhat unexpected to Jin.
"Hang on..." he says, a playful and yet confused tone to his voice. Realisation dawned on you as he rose to his knees attempting to lift the skit of your dress past your hips for a better look at what he had felt. You try to stop him, to push your dress back down but it's too late; it's around your hips.
You cheeks flush and you cover your face with your hands.
"What on earth are these?" he laughs, running his finger along the seem.
"No, I forgot I was- fuck! I was gonna change!"
"No, no, don't. I like them," he teases, pinging the waistband of your ridiculously huge control top panties against your stomach. You giggle, hiding your face out of embarrassment. "So sexy, y/n," he leans forward and kisses you again, grinding his hips against the lycra. The feeling sends a bolt of electricity through your spine, a gush of arousal forming at your core. "I'm sorry, but I have to have another look," he jokes, shuffling down again.
"No, stop!" you laugh, trying to pull him back up to you.
"No need to be embarrassed, darling. I'm wearing something quite similar myself." You laugh at his obvious lie. "Here look, I'll show you," he stands off the edge of the bed, kicking his shoes off and unzipping his slacks, pushing them down to reveal... completely normal boxer shorts.
"Liar!" you accuse, still giggling.
"Well, I suppose, but it got my trousers off..." he grins, diving towards you again and planting his lips along the cleavage above the bust of your dress. "So tell me..." he plants more kisses, "why were you wearing such enormous panties?"
"They're control top panties, Jin..." He plants more kisses across your chest. "My dress bunched around my tummy, so I wore them to flatten it down."
"Control top, eh?" he hovers over your face, smirking down at your through his glasses. "I consider myself to be quite the control top myself," his eyebrow lifts as his tone turns low and laced with filthy double entendre.
You have no time to respond to him, as he sits up to pull the enormous panties off you, sliding them down your legs followed by a trail of peppered kisses all the way down to your ankle, before he throws the panties across the room. His hands roam up your thighs, caressing the flesh and sliding up under your skirt to your hips, grabbing hold of your curves.
One hand moved down, towards where you needed him most. He traced a finger through your folds, feeling the wetness that had gathered at the excitement of previous actions. With his finger coated in your arousal, he brings it up to your lips and presses past them, making you taste yourself on his finger.
"So pretty," he almost whispers, before he's popping that finger out of your mouth and diving it back through your folds, circling over your swollen clit. Your chest heaves with the deep breaths you take to keep yourself calm, a groan slipping past your lips that Jin can't help but let get to him. His cock is practically twitching in his boxers, begging for contact but like he had said before; he was a control top, a dom. He wanted to get you worked up before he let his own desires take over.
"How does it feel, y/n? Hmm?" he asks, his lips hovering over yours as his finger work magic on your clit, swirling around and around... You don't answer, simply moan out another guttural moan that rocks through him.
Suddenly he lands his palm against your mound, slapping harshly. You cry out, the pain a sharp contrast to the bliss you were feeling before.
"How does it feel, y/n?" he asks again, resuming his earlier motions.
"S-so good.. It feels so good," you stutter.
"Good girl," he praises. He dips his finger further into your folds, toying with your entrance and slipping one finger down to the knuckle, before pulling out and assaulting your clit again. "What do you want, y/n? Tell me."
"Y-your fingers, Jin... Please, I-I need them inside," you squirm, breathes so shallow. He obliges, dipping two fingers into your pussy this time and curling them, hitting the spot inside that you needed the most. You cry out, the feeling too much.
"Would you like me to make you cum, y/n?" he asks, his fingers working miracles inside you. You fail to answer him again, moaning unintelligibly. This time his free hand slaps harshly at your thigh, making the chub jiggle and ripple and leaving a red hand print.
"Yes!" you yelped immediately, lovely the pain but wanting so badly to please, "Please, please... make me cum!"
"There, not so hard, is it?" he smirks, the pace of his fingers quickening. You feel a familiar heat building in your stomach, crawling up your body and flushing on your cheeks. You're moaning, but it's not enough for Jin. He wants you screaming, writhing under his touch.
Without taking his fingers out of you, he dips his head down, using his tongue to lap at the bundle of nerves he had slapped moments ago. The extra sensation coupled with the fingers he was abusing your cunt with felt incredible. Your body twisted against the mattress, Jin trying his best to keep you grounded with his spare hand.
"J-Jin... fuck, it feels good. Oh my GOD, it feel so, so good," you can't stop babbling, moans and groans erupting from deep within you. Whatever Jin was doing to you, it was nothing like any of the men you had slept with before. Nothing.
He uses his whole mouth on you, those plump lips, his tongue... And his fingers; he's been keeping up the pace, fiercely tapping and pumping against your walls.
You can feel it, the urge to tip over the edge, to let yourself be taken over with pleasure getting closer and closer, the tightness in your abdomen becoming excruciating. You're trying to hold off, for what you don't know, but it's getting increasingly difficult, until...
"What? What the hell?" Your head snaps up to see Jin grinning, licking the mess of you from his fingers and grinning as he does so. You were so close...
"Something the matter, sweetheart?"
"Why did you stop?" you ask, breathless. He smirks, leaning over you again to hover his lips above your own.
"Control..." he teased.
He stood up, removing his boxers, socks and the open shirt he had yet to take off, revealing himself in all his glory. Annoyingly, he had the chiseled body of a greek marble statue. One of those little self-conscious moments revealed itself to you as you looked at him; toned chest, taught abs, thick thighs and... well, an impressively large package.
Fuck it, you told yourself. He likes you. He likes your body. Let him see it. Let him fuck it.
You rolled the dress up past your hips where the skirt had bunched, lifting it over your breasts and head to throw it to one side. Just the strapless bra left, you unclasped it and threw that somewhere too, not caring where it landed.
"Wow..." he muses, licking his lips as his eyes scan over you; every curve, every roll, every bump... "Incredible."
"Then why are you still just staring?" you tease. You spread your legs for him, giving him the perfect view of what he wanted to take so badly. "Come and get me."
He wastes no more time, crawling over you and smashing his lips to yours. His teeth graze your lips, biting down on the bottom to force them open enough to push his tongue in. You can feel him, his cock brushing up against your glistening slit, your pussy aching at the denial of your orgasm.
"Ask me nicely..." he says between kisses, grinding his hips into you. He was completely in control, just how he liked it.
"Please, Jin..."
"What?"
"Please fuck me. I need it." You really did.
Jin snaked a hand around his length, positioning himself to line up with your entrance before slowly, pushing into you until his hips met yours, skin on skin.
"Shit," he hisses, relishing in the warm, wet feeling of you stretching around him. That first thrust is always his favourite, he savours it every time.
Soon he starts thrusting his hips slowly into you, filling you so well you groan at the feeling. His fingers start to dig in to your hips, his nails scratching at the skin. It feels so good, the mixture of pain and pleasure something that you made a note to yourself to explore more with Jin in future.
With every thrust he's brushing up again that spot he found inside you, that familiar tightness growing in your stomach once again. You prayed this time he would let you cum; one denial was enough, surely?
With every thrust, your resolve weakened further and further.
"Oh, fuck... y/n," he groaned, sweat forming on his brow and chest. "You're amazing, god the way you jiggle as I fuck you... I love it," he spoke through gritted teeth, pleasure and lust overwhelming him all at one. "You're so beautiful, so so beautiful..." One hand caressed your cheek, pushing a strand of hair away from your face that had stuck to you with sweat.
"J-Jin... it feels so... ah!" he thrusts particularly hard, making you cry out.
"D-do you know how long I wanted this, y/n? How long I waited to ask you out?" he asks, his hips wildly pounding into yours, skin slapping on skin.
"J-Jin, I'm gonna..."
"Not yet... wait," he scorns, "Months, I waited to ask you out. I was... so busy, the band... oh fuck, I thought about you all the time. All the fucking time," he groaned, his own end getting closer and closer...
"J-Jin, please... can I cum...?" you sob, tears forming at the edges of your eyes. You're sure your make up has smudged but what kind of fucks did you give right now, with a man like Kim Seokjin filling you up?
"Cum for me, baby. Cum on me..." he commanded. Another few hard thrusts, and you did just that.
Clenching your walls against his cock, your orgasm rocketed through your body like a chemical reaction; fast and explosive. Your muscles convulsed as you squeezed your eyes shut tight, crying out an unintelligible string of expletives. Jin held your thighs close to his hips, still thrusting his hips to guide you through it. He made sure that you felt everything; every oversensitive little spark, every thrust of his hips. He needed you to feel as much as you possibly could.
But he was losing control of himself too, watching you hit every high you could. He'd never been so turned on, never felt so good as you clenched around him and writhed in front of him, squeezing your thighs against him as he pulled you as close as he could.
Just as you were starting to come down, his orgasm raged through him. Hot, white strings of cum erupted from him, filling you up as he lost his rhythm. His thrusts were as hard as he could make them, the strength spilling from his body whilst his body performed its own chemical reaction.
The both of you came down together, out of breath, sweaty and totally exhausted. He collapsed onto you, burying his head in your cleavage and hiding his face as he caught his breath. You giggled, looking at him through your fucked out eyes laying sprawled out on you. Both your bodies were hot and sweaty, but Jin found comfort in the extra pounds you had.
"God, you're so soft..." he groans, nestling into you.
"J-Jin, can you get off my tits?" you giggled, pushing him to lay next to you rather than on you. You were far too hot for that right now. Far too sweaty...
"Sorry... so comfy..." his controlling mannerisms seems to have ejected from his body the second his cum did. Now, he was acting a fool again, the playful and stupid Jin you first started crushing on.
"You're cute," you giggle, turning onto your side to face him.
"You're beautiful," he grinned, completely silly and yet completely sincere. "I meant it you know. I have wanted to ask you out for so long. You're just... perfect, y/n."
"Hmmm, yeah. I am perfect," you grin. "But you, Mr. Kim, are the eighth damn wonder of the world." He laughs at that.
"Am I that good in bed, huh?" he joked.
"Absolutely," you grinned, placing a kiss on his lips.
"I'm glad you think so," he sat up, pulling you until you lay over him, straddling his hips. "Because I'm just getting started..."
186 notes · View notes
tval · 4 years ago
Note
Lexi: 5, 10, 11, 12, 15, 16, 63. Anyone else: 1, 2, 4, 9, 10.
1) What is/are your OC’s nickname(s) and how did it come about?
‘Kid’, ‘Kiddo’, “Sunshine’, ‘Sunflower.’
2) What is the color of your OC’s eyes/hair/skin?
Green-grey, sandy blonde, very fair (“extra” pale ivory).
4) What is a noticeable physical attribute of your OC?
Expressive eyes. Ear piercings (three in her left, two in her right). Looks like her older brother (more than she’d like to admit).
5) What does your OC normally wear? What would your OC wear on a special night?
Mostly casual clothes; jeans, hoodies/sweatshirts, short and long sleeved shirts. Flannel and big sweaters, too. Casual doesn’t equal frumpy, as she likes things to fit properly (jeans? they better be fitted), have a wide range of variety in colour and style, etc. Boots and sneakers (converse, don’t judge) are her go to for shoes.
It really depends on the occasion. She wouldn’t wear the same thing to a wedding as she would to a business event or on a date. But for the sake of simplicity, special occasions would entail flowing skirts, feminine blouses, lace and chiffon dresses, those women’s suits that come in really cool colours, and sweater dresses and tights for the colder months.
9) What does your OC’s bedroom look like? His/her living area?
Her bedroom’s pretty small, but comfortably so. Traditional Japanese living area with modern furniture and touches. Aside from the bed (which takes up quite a bit of space), there’s not much furniture; a little bedside table, desk, and dresser. But there’s clutter, picture frames, stacks of books and magazines…but it’s like, clean clutter? I apologize, I’m not doing a very good job at describing this. It’s so easy to visualize in my head, but writing it down? Nah. I’m going to make this easier and just provide a few links to images that sort of come close to what I’m thinking. [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]
10) What does your OC keep in a special drawer?
For Lexi: her first real camera, a book of Scottish fairytales, the invitation from her brother’s wedding, an egg-sized crystal that’s definitely timely totally normal (not), and a raven feather.
For the other one: an old photograph from long past days, a violet hair ribbon that’s faded and fraying at the edges, a silver pendant decorated with the Japanese kanji for ‘sunflower’.
11) What is your OC’s relationship with his/her mother?
Lexi has a very close and loving relationship with her mom. Her mom has always encouraged Lexi to be herself and to carve out a life that’s uniquely her own. There’s a lot of love and support there. Regarding certain life choices and independent decisions Lexi has made, she’s been wary but otherwise supportive.
12) What is your OC’s relationship with his/her father?
Lexi’s relationship with her dad is very much one of a tough guy with a hard exterior having a soft spot for his little girl. He’s a tad overprotective, despite Lexi no longer being a child. They have, and still do, occasionally butt heads over certain choices and aspects of Lexi’s life, but there’s never been any permanent fallout or love lost.
15) What was your OC’s childhood like?
Lexi’s childhood was pretty good, but also pretty messy. Her family as a whole moved around the country quite a bit, and every time they did it took Lexi longer and longer to adjust. Which, really, would’ve been okay since she had her parents and brothers to help her along, but she started to experience the supernatural/paranormal at a pretty young age.
Aside from all the abnormal crap she had to deal with, Lexi’s childhood was pretty good. You wouldn’t think so with the spooky shit, but you’d be wrong. Loving, encouraging parents. Two older brothers she fought with only 25% of the time (what a low percentage!), an extended family numbering in the dozens; happy, but not perfect. Good, but not without the bad.
16) What is your OC’s strongest childhood memory? Why and how as that impacted him/her?
When Lexi was around 11 years old and living in Louisiana, she had her first physical encounter with the supernatural. One summer, a few kids started to go missing in the nearby bayou (they lived in a rural part of the state). Through a series of complicated and convoluted events that would take way to long to write, Lexi has a bad encounter with something that is definitely not normal. Creepy giant reptile creature. Dead kid remains are involved. Lexi gets some trauma, killer monster get injured and leaves the area. Cops wrap everything up, deciding an alligator was behind the deaths.
How did this impact Lexi? Pretty simply. She educated herself about all this crazy shit, which eventually prompts her to become a supernatural/monster hunter.
63) How does your OC display love?
Did you want me to go on a long winded rant? Because you’re about to get a long winded rant.
Anyways.It actually depends on the person and the type of love! You know, platonic, familial, romantic, etc. But for this one, I’m going to go with how she shows ~romantic~ love.
Lexi is a very caring and loving person in general. So when it comes to the person she loves, the person she’s in love with, all she really wants is to be with them. Grandiose displays of love and overly romantic gestures? Not really Lexi’s thing. She shows her affection through little gestures; soft caresses, gentle hand holding (lacing her fingers with her significant others; rubbing small circles against her s/o’s palm), pressing herself close to her s/o’s side for the briefest of moments.
Another way that Lexi shows her love is face touching. It’s a little bit strange, but Lexi really likes to touch her s/o’s face. Cupping their cheeks, running her knuckles along their jawline; it might come off as weird or even creepy, but it’s really very soft and sweet.
And yes, most of these displays of love so far has been physical. But Lexi’s a very physically affectionate person. She likes to touch and to be touched. She’s not bad with words, but there’s so much more that can be said with actions. And sometimes words can be difficult. Certain things are hard to say, to admit, and so Lexi would rather show than tell. It’s easier for her.
I said it earlier, that Lexi doesn’t do over the top displays. But she enjoys going on dates and things like that. Going for a walk in the park, spending a quiet evening in; it doesn’t have to be super exciting or special, as long as they can be comfortable and happy in each other’s company is enough. Being together is enough. She wants her s/o to know she loves them with smothering them. Lexi sometimes worries that she is smothering, since she’s more action than words. Those worries are part of the reason a lot of her gestures are quick and brief; show the love, but show it in short bursts. Lexi’s weird in that way. Weird, but loving.
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enbyleighlines · 5 years ago
Note
Would you consider writing Jiang Cheng's response to Nie Huaisang's confession as anpther one of the modern mdzs fics? Maybe with Wen Qing as well since I know she and Jiang Cheng have a relationship too? I cannot get enough of the modern au. I already love the way you write nhs so much and I need them to have a happy ending 😭
Absolutely, my friend! I’m glad to hear you are enjoying them~
On the night of his Jiejie’s wedding, Jiang Cheng drives Wen Qing and himself back to his apartment in silence. Both of them are exhausted from the long day, so the lack of conversation isn’t unusual or awkward.
Still, Wen Qing must have sensed something. As soon as they settle in for the night, and Jiang Cheng is about to climb into bed, she speaks up.
“Something on your mind?” She asks, looking up from the book she had been reading. She is marking her place with a finger.
Jiang Cheng knows that if he brushes off her question, that she will simply shrug and go back to reading. She will drop it, and probably not bring it up again. That is just the type of relationship they have. It is casual, surface level... a little cold. They both keep each other at arm’s length, metaphorically speaking. Their bodies can touch but their hearts can not, not for long, not long enough to risk forming an attachment.
Of course, Jiang Cheng also knows that he’s only lying to himself. He has already grown attached. Wen Qing just doesn’t need to know that.
When Jiang Cheng doesn’t immediately answer, Wen Qing folds the corner of the page she is on and sets the book aside. She gives the empty side of the bed a few pats. “Come on,” she says, “Say what you want to say, or forever hold your peace.”
Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes, but sits down beside her anyway. “Nie Huaisang said something to me today,” he begins.
Wen Qing raises a single eyebrow, and waits patiently.
“They... told me that they like me,” Jiang Cheng confesses, trying to keep his voice tight and emotionless.
“Okay?”
“Ever since high school,” Jiang Cheng continues, “Can you believe that? Holding onto a crush from high school that long?”
Wen Qing snorts, but at least she tries to hide it behind her hand.
Jiang Cheng flushes, remembering that he is still harboring a crush on Wen Qing that had begun in high school. God, he can be such a hypocrite!
“Well,” Wen Qing says, “What did you say?”
“What could I say?” Jiang Cheng counters, deflecting by pure reflex. He feels the guilt he had suppressed earlier begin to bubble back up. “I told them... I didn’t know what to think. I mean, they sprung that on me so suddenly! So I said I’d give them a proper answer later, after I’ve thought things through.”
Wen Qing hums. Even as exhausted as she is, she clearly sees where Jiang Cheng is going with this. “And how do you feel about Nie Huaisang?” she asks, knowingly.
“I don’t know,” Jiang Cheng admits. It’s the not knowing that is messing him up, but he doesn’t say that. “I mean, Nie Huaisang... they’re assigned male at birth? I think that’s what they’re calling it these days. And I’m not gay. So I shouldn’t be attracted to them.”
“But you are?” Wen Qing guesses.
“Is that weird? Am I gay now?”
This time, Wen Qing is unable to hold back her laughter. She giggles into her fist, clutching her stomach with the other hand.
Jiang Cheng scowls and waits for her to finish.
After a moment, Wen Qing meets his gaze again. She’s still smirking, though, that little curl at the edge of her lip that drives Jiang Cheng wild. “If anything, you would be bi,” she corrects him, “Unless you no longer find me attractive?”
It’s a dig at him and they both know it. Jiang Cheng shoves her shoulder, and she only laughs some more.
“So we can rule out you being gay,” Wen Qing teases.
“Will you take this seriously?” Jiang Cheng grouches. “Just answer the question. Is it weird, for me to be attracted to Nie Huaisang?”
Wen Qing gives him another smile. This one is genuine, almost fond. “Of course it isn’t weird,” she says, “You might have a slight attraction to men, or you could just find the concept of androgyny attractive. As much as I wish human sexuality was as simple as movies and TV would have us believe, it’s far more complex than that.”
Jiang Cheng considers that. “Is there a word for... being attracted to androgynous people? As well as women?”
“Probably,” Wen Qing answers, “but I don’t know what it is. I find the concept of labels limiting at best and misleading at worst. But if you think it would help, I can do some research for you.”
Jiang Cheng leans back against the headboard. He doesn’t know if it would help. He supposes Wen Qing might be right about the labels thing. Any time they’ve attempted to put a label on the strange relationship they share, it’s only ever ended in heartache. And, on that note, being attracted to Nie Huaisang isn’t Jiang Cheng’s only problem.
“Hey, Wen Qing,” Jiang Cheng murmurs, “Are you... jealous, at all?”
Wen Qing sighs. “You know I’m not a jealous person,” she reminds him, “Why? Do you want me to be jealous?”
He kind of does, but he won’t ever admit it. And it’s not jealousy itself he craves, exactly, just the confirmation that maybe Wen Qing feels a fraction of what he feels for her. That maybe she considers him a part of herself, something she doesn’t want to lose.
Wen Qing sighs again. “We’re not exclusive, either,” she adds.
Jiang Cheng is painfully aware. He spits, “I know.” And then, “But have you actually ever... slept with anyone else? While the two of us have been a thing?”
Silence fills the room. Wen Qing fidgets with the ends of her bangs. “I’m too busy for that,” she deflects.
They’re both living a lie. That much is clear. Jiang Cheng blows out air though his teeth, and attempts to put his temper and ego aside for the moment. “So is it really fair, then, if I ask Nie Huaisang out on a date?”
Wen Qing surprises him. She reaches out and puts her hand over his, lacing their fingers. “C’mon, don’t they say everything’s fair in love and war?”
Jiang Cheng sucks in a breath. It’s the closest Wen Qing has ever gotten to admitting that there is love between them. He gives himself a moment to savor the little victory. And then he says, point blank, “I want to know if you’re okay with me asking Nie Huaisang out on a date.”
“Yes,” Wen Qing answers easily. She gives his fingers a squeeze. “Will you be okay asking them out on a date?”
“I don’t know,” Jiang Cheng admits.
“What’s holding you back? Be honest. Is it the whole gay thing?” Wen Qing’s smirk has returned. “I hope you realize how dumb that sounds to me. I did the whole gay panic thing back in middle school. That’s child’s play to me.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Jiang Cheng finds himself smiling now, too. He remembers that Wen Qing was the first out and proud person he ever met. He remembers her wearing bi pride pins on her backpack, and how she was always the first person to put bigots in their place. She’s always been the strongest and bravest person he knows. He loves her so damn much. He only hopes that one day he’ll find the courage to tell her.
“So what’s really holding you back?” Wen Qing asks.
Jiang Cheng’s grin falls. He feels bad saying it aloud, even if he knows Wen Qing won’t judge him. But he says it anyway. “I’m afraid of hurting them,” he admits, “What if things go great at first, but when it comes to... getting intimate, I freeze up? What if I don’t find them attractive under the makeup?”
Wen Qing squeezes his fingers again. “That’s always a possibility,” she tells him.
“And I know I don’t know shit about being transgender or nonbinary or whatever,” Jiang Cheng continues, “but I heard that being misgendered hurts. And what if Nie Huaisang thinks I’m misgendering them, by not being attracted to them?”
“I don’t know,” Wen Qing says.
That shuts Jiang Cheng up. He looks at her, surprised. “What?” He asks.
“I don’t know,” she repeats. Her expression is so warm, so affectionate. “There are no easy answers, Jiang Cheng. Especially when it comes to matters of the heart. But I think it’s a good sign that you thought so much about this. It’s clear that you care about them. So... I think you should ask them out. You clearly want to.”
“I do want to,” Jiang Cheng confesses. He puts a hand to his chest, and is startled to find that his heart is pounding. When did that happen?
Wen Qing leans over and gives him a peck on the cheek. “So ask them out,” she whispers.
Then, she rolls over, turns off the lamp on her side of the bed, and goes to sleep.
But Jiang Cheng stays awake for a little while longer. He listens to his heart beat, and replays the conversation they just had in his head.
His fears and concerns are still there. But somehow, they feel more manageable.
It takes three days for Jiang Cheng to work up the courage.
Finally, he texts Nie Huaisang and asks them to meet him for a morning coffee at a locally owned vegan cafe and bakery. He figures it’d be the kind of place that Nie Huaisang would enjoy.
Jiang Cheng choses a table near a window. It makes him feel a little less claustrophobic. And then he waits.
Nie Huaisang arrives right on time, orders a latte at the counter, and brings it with them to sit in the booth across from Jiang Cheng. The nerves are apparent in every move they make, every little twitch of their fingers conveying intense anxiety.
Jiang Cheng wants to sandwich those fingers between his warm palms, and make them stop trembling.
“Good morning,” Nie Huaisang says. It sounds like they tried to sound nonchalant, but instead they just wind up squeaking on the first syllable.
It’s endlessly endearing. Jiang Cheng rubs the back of his neck. “Hey,” he replies.
Nie Huaisang looks down at their latte, and the foam heart on top. They swirl the spoon, distorting the image. “This is a nice place,” they say, “Cozy, and vintage. How long have you been coming here?”
“This is my first time,” Jiang Cheng answers. He doesn’t want to talk about the cafe! But he doesn’t know how to shift topics smoothly.
“Oh,” Nie Huaisang says. They peek up through their feathered bangs. Today, they’re wearing an oversized striped sweater, almost long enough to be a dress, over some leggings. As always, they look incredible.
Jiang Cheng has long found himself uncomfortably enthralled by Nie Huaisang. Their sense of style is— well, Jiang Cheng doesn’t know anything about fashion, so he doesn’t have the right words to describe it. But whatever it is, it looks good. It looks better than good. Jiang Cheng often avoids looking directly at Nie Huaisang for that very reason. But now that he’s looking, he can’t look away.
Nie Huaisang fidgets nervously, no doubt uncomfortable being under the heat of Jiang Cheng’s stare. “So,” they say, “What... have you been up to?”
It’s obviously not what they had meant to ask. Jiang Cheng suddenly realizes that he’s being a total douche for letting this drag on for so long. And so he blurts out, “I wanted to talk about what we talked about at the wedding.”
Nie Huaisang startles. They avert their gaze, and then ask, “O-oh...?”
“You said you liked me,” Jiang Cheng says, and then wishes he didn’t. Surely Nie Huaisang knew what conversation he was talking about! He berates himself inwardly for a moment, and then continues, “I wanted... to ask you out on a date.”
Nie Huaisang audibly gasps. They put a hand to their mouth a second too late to muffle it. “What...?”
“To the zoo,” Jiang Cheng adds, “Uh, you like the zoo, right? You like animals.”
“I do,” Nie Huaisang confirms. Their voice is so very small. Clearly, they had not expected this outcome. “But... I’m confused. You said... you said you don’t like men?”
“You’re not a man,” Jiang Cheng points out.
That gets a huge smile from Nie Huaisang. It lights up the entire cafe. “I’m not,” they agree, with a breathless sort of glee choking their throat. But then, the smile falls. “But I’m not a girl, either.”
“I know,” Jiang Cheng says. He straightens his spine, and tries to channel a fraction of the courage Wen Qing possesses. “I still think I’m straight, but I want to take you out on a date anyway. Maybe that means I’m not really straight, but right now, I really don’t care. I just want to take you to the zoo. And maybe to dinner, afterwards.”
Nie Huaisang looks like they don’t quite believe him. But they nod. “Okay,” they murmur, “I’d like that.”
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smolbeandrabbles · 5 years ago
Text
You Kissed Me First - Gerry x Reader (Mississippi Grind)
Moderation / Somethin’ I’m Good At
Tumblr media
Gif Credit: X
Author’s Note: 
SO... Over 4 pieces of writing, and 14,631 words I haven’t actually ever written Gerry a kiss...  😁😁😁 It actually makes me really happy to present you with this one because, for me, Gerry is not the easiest character to write for. But two in a matter of weeks has even me shocked. I guess the songs are just getting me right... It’s nice. I will continue to follow the Mendo inspiration right now - that’s for sure!
You Kissed Me First - Carly Pearce
@sufferthesea​ @mandy23b​ This is for you, my darlings 😘💜
Disclaimer: Mississippi Grind characters not mine / gif not mine / lyrics not mine. 
Premise: On your first girls night out in months, Gerry is the last person you’d expect to walk into this bar...
Words: 4254
Warnings: Drinking 
_______
I know I put on that dress And painted my lips red I know I walked in this bar With a couple of my friends I know that I told you The barstool was free I know that I smiled back When you smiled at me
I know I laid my head On your shoulder in the dark I know I took your hand Under the neon stars I know I told myself Let's see where it goes I know I didn't pull back When you pulled me close But you were the one that got me a drink Champagne glass full of sunset pink You asked me to dance, Then you paid the bar band to play One more slow song before last call Then you leaned in so it ain't my fault If I wake up in your t-shirt Just remember, you kissed me first And I won't be the one to blame, If this is meant to be And I won't feel guilty, If you fall in love with me
---
It was the first time in a long while that you'd been out with your friends to a bar. All of you had different work schedules, so getting everything to line up perfectly was hard. Also at least a handful of you had significant others, yourself now included. Well, at least you guessed you were dating - from your perspective that made you exclusive, but, you supposed it wasn't 'official' yet. And you were still edging on the this could go anywhere side of caution. It wasn't like Gerry didn't spend his time warning you how bad he would be for you. And you always had to counter with the fact you wanted to take that chance...
As you'd all finally managed to settle on a free date, that meant you were determined to not waste tonight - considering it wouldn't be easy to predict when the next time you may get to do this would be. You all had a favourite bar downtown that you liked to frequent. And that was where you found yourselves now. Perhaps a little overdressed for a little bar with a nearly empty dancefloor in the middle of your little Iowa town, even on a Friday - but it wasn't like any of you cared. And you'd be rectifying the dancefloor situation by the end of the night. All you were looking to do was have a good time - and unwind a little from the day to day. You'd been catching up for a good long while and been through a few drinks when the bar started getting busier. Still not overly loud, and with a comfortable ambience that allowed you to enjoy the cover songs from the live band - but the dancefloor did begin to fill with couples and friends also looking to loosen up after a long hard week.
When Gerry walked into the little bar, you were the last person he expected to see there. Not that he didn't know that you were out with friends today - he would just have expected you to have chosen literally anywhere else in town. It wasn't exactly lacking in choice for those around your age group. Though he also supposed there was a big difference between dance clubs and quiet bars where you could actually hear each other over the music.
That didn't mean he didn't linger in the doorway for a little while, smile on his face just watching you. He had half a mind to turn and walk out and find somewhere else, but if he went over the other side of town that could quickly lead to bar encounters he didn't need, or something much worse... And he was supposed to be over card games. So Gerry bit his lip gently through his smile, and made his way confidently through the bar and over to you.
You almost had to do a triple take. So involved in the conversation were you that when someone asked you if the seat next to you was taken, all you did was simply relay the truth. No it's free! The glance over your shoulder to them lasted barely half a second. And upon turning back to your friends to tune back into their chat, you lost your train of thought. Pausing, you blinked a couple of times; wait...! You swivelled back to him slowly as he sat, small smile on his face. "Hi!" "H-Hi!!" Your face quickly changed from surprised to amused, and lit up sweetly, "What are you doing here?!" "Pretty great coincidence, right?" He leant on the bar, smile turning into a grin, "I'm just here for a drink, I promise!" He turned to the bar tender who had noticed his presence - "Ah, first off I'll buy a drink for the lady..." He pointed to your glass, "Another or..?" "Gerry-!" You giggled, "Okay, yeah sure!" But then leant in towards the barman too "He'll probably have a Woodford, you can put it on my tab." "No, no..." Gerry waved a hand to dismiss you "Let me get you a drink!" You shook your head, knowing that once your friends became interested in the man buying you rounds, they'd want all theirs on his tab too. "Ger-" "Just one. Then you can do the rest if you insist..." You sighed gently, unable to look away from his pleading eyes "Okay, one." He celebrated like he'd just got much more out of you than one drink and turned straight to the bar; "Sorry, you- you're probably having a great night..." He cleared his throat, "I'll have one then I can go." "Gerry..." You touched his arm gently, "What do you mean? You just made my night even better; I didn't think I was going to get to see you-! How lucky does that make me?" He giggled then, almost lowering his head completely to the bar as blush crossed his cheeks; "Oh, okay!" You shook your head gently at him as the smile remained on his face but his eyes didn't flick back to yours until after the barman had poured your drinks. "Cheers-!" He clinked his glass to the one you raised, arm brushing yours. That had him smiling again, but you knew exactly why. Gerry liked to be close to you, politely, and a little bar like this afforded just that amount of intimate touching - although he didn't want to get too into your personal space - it did mean that the little affectionate points of contact that occurred couldn't really be helped - and he lived for them.
**
You continued a brief conversation about how each of your days had been, and future plans. Before your friends realised that you weren't hanging onto their every word anymore. "Y/N-!" You received a gentle nudge to your back which made you turn to face them, "Yeah?" All three were staring at you with the same expression. Your eyes flicked between them; "What-!?" Sadie was the one to begin the questions, leaning across the others; "First off, whooooo is the cutie pie!!?" "Second off - are you not gonna introduce us-!?" Nicole gasped "OH MY GOD! Did he buy you a drink already-!?" "OH!" You laughed, a little embarrassed, and pressed your back against the bar, "Sorry, I realise I've not done this before-!"
Gerry had really come here to think a couple of things through over a drink, but he'd been glad of your company, even in the vicinity. But in the fact that you were now addressing him and your friends, he was pulled away from his bourbon again, right to three women staring at him with various levels of interest. He realised immediately that meant introducing himself to them first; "Oh! Hi! I'm Gerry-!" They all turned from his sweet as sugar little smile back to you, of course they knew as much as you'd cared to tell them about the man who frequented your cafe so often, and had admitted his crush on you. Only for you to end up dating - at least casually – and silence hung in the air for a moment, before Jen punched the top of your arm; "THE GERRY!? YOU DIDN'T SAY HE WAS AN ABSOLUTE CUTIE-!?!?!” That only made you go redder, "Yeah..." though she didn’t have to make it so obvious that you spent a lot of time talking about him-! Eyes flicking between the four of you, the look on Gerry’s face read that he didn't think that his night was going to get any better. You were here, three girls he'd never met were suddenly calling him cute (and yes, he would take it! That was the friend seal of approval and was a great honour!), he had his favourite drink... And a dance floor. He'd utilise that one a little later though. The girls all introduced themselves to him one by one and suddenly he was the complete centre of attention, he wasn't exactly used to something like that - but his shyness just made him even more adorable to them. And finally, you got them all to settle down and go back to it being a girl’s night out. That didn't mean you, nor he - with the way he read everything - missed the looks that every man in the room was giving him. And the way that Gerry let you cuddle into him as he wound an arm around your shoulders. Eventually you let him get back to his drink, but he at least acted reluctant. If he'd come here for quiet you didn't exactly want to distract him from that - but as you continued your evening you kept your hand in his as he made his way through another glass.
 **
 Eventually he slid off the bar stool, and let his hand delicately leave yours, as he paid his tab. You thought that would count Gerry's night as over, and you were about to turn to wish him goodnight, and while he was here, figure out when the next time you would see him would be. It didn't sound like he was so busy this weekend, so maybe it wouldn't have to be at the cafe, maybe you would get to go on a date.
Gerry had different ideas, because although he was now standing, he was shrugging himself out of his jacket to put over the back of your chair. He was determined to make tonight a date if you would let him. Your friends weren't about to deter him from doing so either. So when he held his hand out for yours and asked you to dance, you were only a little hesitant. "Of course she will-!" The girls answered for you, and you had to laugh again as they did almost everything apart from literally pushing you onto the dancefloor. You let him take your hand and raised your eyebrows to your friends with a wink; liquid confidence... Or maybe something else - unless Gerry used this demeanour as a facade for his gambling, you doubted this was the man that people at his usual tables knew. He got his conviction from somewhere...
 His confidence was still gentle as he laced his fingers with yours, confessing that he wasn't the best dancer - but that because he had you, it probably didn't matter so much. You were hardly one to care about that, more that he would want to take your hands in his, or you in his arms and pull you closer to him out here on the floor at all. And not just for one song. This wasn't unnoticed by your friends of course, because their eyes were glued to you. And their phones too - "Oh my god..." You whispered but with Gerry this close, he heard you; "What?" "Well don't look at my friends now, but this is gonna be all over social media tomorrow..!" He laughed softly; "Is there a problem with that?" Your smile was a little absentminded before you turned your eyes on him; "No...It’s the least of my problems. A little like getting to be here with you at all." Again he acted bashful, blue eyes hitting the floor, voice soft; "You don't need to say that..." "I mean it-!" You kept your eyes on his until he raised them back to you, and then he smiled gently pausing the sway of your dance Gerry made a firm decision and slipped his hands from yours; "Wait here..."
You barely had time to respond before he approached the band winding up their current song. He took out his wallet and added to their tip jar, beckoning the singer in closer to whisper a song and pointed at you through the crowd. Upon the band’s agreement, Gerry made his way back to you with a smile on his face. You eyed him warily; "What have you just got me into-!?" "One more slow song before they head for last call..." He took you back in his arms, and let you entwine your fingers with his - recognising the song as one of your favourites. That made you bite your lip as you beamed, unable to look back into his eyes for fear of becoming something akin to a blushing mess. But when you finally felt like you could, you thanked him. And then your eyes didn't leave his for the remainder of the song. And you were aware that he continued to pull you closer inch by inch - and that excitement ran over your body as you realised what he was about to do, and that you knew you wouldn't stop him from pulling you in.
 Gerry's eyes flicked from your eyes to your lips far too often, and it was almost a little too much for him as he took a deep breath and looked away "...Y/N..." He paused again, like he was trying to get a grip on the situation, "...Y/N... I think I..." He bit his lips together and his eyes widened slightly, "I'm..." When those beautiful blue eyes looked back in yours, he realised that all you were doing was waiting for him now. And that maybe saying it just wouldn't do the moment justice. Gerry closed what was left of the gap, and his lean in was slow, enough for you to read every second of the situation, and grip his hand tighter, hold him as close as he was holding you. Your eyes closed as his lips touched yours, sweet and hesitant at first, as unsure as he always seemed. The way he'd look at you in the café, like he didn't believe you could possibly feel the same way about him. So you kept him close, the pressure of your hand on his back encouraging. That injected confidence into his kiss immediately - but it was still soft and gentle, tasting a little like a hint of his favourite Kentucky bourbon. Not a kiss you wanted to end in a hurry - and a damn good first one.
 He pulled away looking at least a little guilty, was that okay? Are you sure? And you couldn't help but fall harder for that charming innocence he had - no matter what you knew about his past. You just beamed in response, but shied away from anything he might wish to say to you now, nestling your head in his shoulder. You could feel your face heating up already - and wanted to hide that from him as much as you did your friends. Who, hell yes, had just witnessed that. Then you smiled to yourself - Gerry had made a hell of a move to kiss you first, but he'd just done it in full view of your three best friends. He deserved a little something for that, when it could also have gone so wrong. You leant up and kisses his cheek, returning to your position on his shoulder. For a moment he looked surprised, before he turned to you, gentle heart-warming smile on his face - and Gerry knew he'd made the right choice.
 ***
 When last call did eventually come you evacuated the dancefloor, with all of your friends looking both enamoured with the two of you and overly smug. "What-!?" "Do you realise how cute you two are?!" You hid your face in his arm for a second, met with his nervous giggle - "Shut up!" "Nope. It's totally true-!" The girls hugged you both close and continued teasing you - but in an affectionate way. Before they all decided to call it a night; "Y/N? Are you coming with us or..." "Uh..." You turned to Gerry, now shrugging his jacket back on. Going back to his place? That felt like rushing something... As much as it felt right... "I..." Jen shook her head, "If it's hard for you to decide then you've already decided." She hugged you once more, "He seems very sweet. You know I'm still gonna ask you to be careful. But, you're a smart girl!" You grinned "Thank you! I will I promise!" When Gerry twisted to you again, he realised you were alone; "Oh... They left?" "Mhm." You gave a gentle shrug, "Guess it's just us!" He held his hand out for yours "Should I walk you home?" You bit your lip, as hesitant to say this as he was to kiss you, "I don't... Think I want to go home just yet..." "Oh?" He gave a smile, leading you from the bar "Well, I guess there's always my place..." Although that thought crossed your mind probably more than it should have your mood had completely changed by the time you walked through his front door. "Drink?" "Actually water wouldn't go amiss..." "Good call. Smart girl." He gave a gentle hum, pouring you and himself a glass. Then paused, like he realised the significance of you standing in his house and whirled back around; "O-Oh... I-- I guess you'll be staying, huh?" Then watching the way your face changed, like you felt guilty for assuming it. Gerry held his hands out, feeling like he'd probably just put his foot in it "Oh! God-! No! It's okay-! I-I want you to stay-! Y/N...!" He crossed his kitchen to you, hands on your arms, forehead against yours, "Please... Stay..." As if he thought a simple mistake like that would cause you to walk out on him. Your heart skipped, with him this close to you, and your smile was shy and delicate against the assuring look on his face. “…I will…” And you knew you didn’t just mean tonight.
He gathered you a shirt, and everything he thought you might need to stay at his for an evening, certainly not wanting to force anything upon you that you didn't want. And left you to get ready for bed. However the second you slipped his soft T-shirt on the only thing you wanted was to be wrapped up in his arms. And you stood looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror for an inordinate amount of time. It smelled like all his clothes did – and although he wasn’t holding you, it was like you could feel his body warmth wrapping around you protectively. Your eyes welled up, seemingly for no reason, and suddenly you wanted that feeling more than anything.
By the time you'd finished he was also changed, and waiting for you to say goodnight. And also by the way that his eyes never left your face, was trying to be a polite gentleman about the whole situation - though you wouldn't have minded him running his eyes over your body just once... It wasn't like you weren't together; "Well... Goodnight, Gerry. Thank you for asking me to stay..." "You're welcome... Thank you for…uhm, accepting. Maybe we can do something together tomorrow?" The sweet, gentle smile he was falling so in love with was back on your face "I'd like that." "Good..." He agreed with a nod "Goodnight, Y/N..." You gave a nod of your own, and turned to pad back down the hall to his guest room. When he didn't call you back, you turned back and took a deep breath; "Gerry?" "Uh huh?" He stood and tipped his head, that same clueless innocent look on his face that he liked fixing you with. "Can I... Stay with you?" Both of you went red - you for asking, him for having you be so direct. "Oh, I..." You could feel your heart thump loud in your chest - and once again his face changed from shock to beaming realisation, "I just..." You tried to put it another way, and realised how sweet you were making your voice, "I just want you to hold me..."
 ***
 Being wrapped up in his arms provided you with an ultimate moment of realisation. That you could quite happily do this for a very long time - for as long as this relationship was likely to last. For all Gerry’s warnings you already hoped the answer to that would be a good long time... You didn't want to hope too much that that might end up the case. And yet you did.
Gerry held you close, but not too tight - his touches comforting as you spent the majority of it in silence. Conversation didn't need to pass between you, and your fingertips ran the arm he'd curled beneath you. You wanted to tell him that you didn't usually do this, not stay with someone this early into the relationship... But there was something about Gerry that made you so comfortable... That maybe he knew that already, and you didn't need to use your words. That this tender intimacy was enough. But the more he relaxed you the more you drifted off. And you fought that for as long as you could; wanting nothing more than to stare back into his loving blue eyes.
 You had obviously failed at that when the next thing you knew you were waking up to daylight. Still in the warmth of his arms, however, which made you smile and cuddle further into him - returning the hold he had on you. Gerry smiled absentmindedly in his dreams and he squeezed you tight, making you giggle, before you decided you'd much rather stay here in bed with him than get up and start the day.
Meaning you were well rested by the time you did wake up - but alone. ish. He was already dressed and sitting up on the bed, running his hand through your hair; "Oh... Sorry..." He mumbled sheepishly, withdrawing his hand as your eyes adjusted to the light. You rubbed them and stretched - "Well... That's one way to wake up..." This time Gerry offered you a bashful giggle; "I just wanted you to sleep for as long as you needed..." He still wasn't really looking at you, and his fingers tapped nervously against his knees; "Uh. I guess you might want to borrow some clothes?" You sat up, with a nod; "Thank you..." Then folded your arms with a grin "I mean I have always wondered what it'd be like to cuddle you in those sweaters... But if I get to wear one!" This time he did go red and almost spluttered; "Well I... I guess you're gonna get both." Your gasp was gentle, "I would very much appreciate cuddles." "Haha, I bet..." He stood and opened his dresser... Again he tapped a rhythm against it before turning back to you. "Maybe I should just let you chose one?" You rolled yourself out of bed and wandered over to him; "Your T-shirt and your sweater, I should be so honoured." He laughed; "It's like you practically live here." "Trust me - half your wardrobe would go missing if I did." You perused his extensive collection, before selecting one and kissing his cheek. "Thank you-!" "You're welcome..." You'd already made him smile, but now he was gently rubbing his cheek. "I'll uh, wait for you downstairs, okay?" "Mhm-!"
***
Gerry busied himself in the kitchen whilst he waited for you, and in turn whilst you waited for him you curled yourself up on the sofa - checking your phone for messages. "Oh God..." You whispered to yourself, head very nearly in your hands as you realised just how many messages you had received from your friends, nearly all pictures of course, from your friends in the aftermath of the previous evening. All with various comments that all said the same thing: OH MY GOD YOU TWO ARE SO CUTE--!!! And trying to come up with a good sounding ship name for you.
You sighed gently, knowing that this would probably go on for at least the whole of today. They definitely were going to love to tease you about this. Still, at least you knew the pictures were very cute; they did have that right. Before long, you were joined not by Gerry, but by a ginger and white cat. Who eyed you with as much curiosity as you did it. Gerry had never mentioned a cat, but you would assume it was his. Curious and friendly, as it leapt onto the sofa and then onto you. "Oh! My god, you're gorgeous! AW! Hey---!!" The affection you gave and in turn received resulted very quickly in purrs. "We'll I'm very happy to meet you too-!" Gerry stood in the doorway for a moment, watching with a roll of his eyes; "Hey, Jasper, come on, leave her alone-!" He received a meow back, but Jasper definitely didn't move - "I think that's a no! Jasper?" "Mhm..!" Gerry was carrying two mugs, which he placed carefully on the side table before joining you, scratching behind Jasper's ears - making the purring even louder. "He's very cute." "Yeah-! I mean... I've had him a little while, he's a good cat." "I bet..."
Gerry pulled you closer to him winding an arm around your waist as you propped your head on his shoulder, still stroking a hand through Jasper's fur. "Can I ask you something?" "Yeah?" He turned his eyes to you, "Anything..." "How do you do that?" "Do...what?" "Switch between confident and shy in a matter of seconds. I'm not even sure you realise you're-" you paused your sentence just by the look of surprise on his face; "C-Confident? Me!?" Your folded your arms in defiance of his protest; "Yes! Don't act like that, how can you not call yourself confident!?" He gave a shrug, "I... I dunno I guess it's just a remnant of the way I used to play... You gotta have confidence at tables. Like no matter what your play is. You don't want other players to think they can rattle you easily. So, I guess..." He smiled "That's why. But then, you're giving me signals that make me confident with you... So... Again, maybe it's you too..." "You're very sweet to say that." You brushed your lips to his cheek again and nestled into his sweater; "Sweet maybe, but also true..." He let you settle yourself; "We need more weekends like this." "I second..." You smiled, "We need more nights like yesterday." Gerry laughed, but said no more, and you sat in silence for a few moments more before you glanced to the mugs on the table. Then your smile grew, in realisation of what he'd done; "Is that hot chocolate?" "Yeah..." His smile was sweet "Bout time. I figure I owe you that..." Then he got a flash of confidence back; "And our first kiss-!"
And with him looking at you like that; you were about to make it two.
---
@happyskywhale @wltz-bby​ @3134045126​ #MendoTagSquad.
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elle-imagines · 6 years ago
Note
Yayy can you do Sasuke NSFW Hc's and sfw
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“I…like it here. It’s quiet. You can come here…if you want.”
Sasuke SFW + NSFW Headcanons
SFW
He hates being forced to talk about how he feels. It makes him feel uncertain and vulnerable, a feeling he hates. Though he is more somber or serious than most, it does not mean on the inside he’s experiencing the same feelings he shows. He could be having the time of his life and have a straight face. Telling him to “lighten up” or “smile for once” will sour him into a mood you thought he had.
He finds amusement in using sarcasm. He knows how to keep a straight face, so seeing someone become flustered or confused when they try to decipher if he was joking or not amuses him. He speaks it at least 89% of the time so he gets plenty bouts of enjoyment throughout his day.
Sasuke enjoys outdoor activities; he does something every day if he can. Hiking, strolls on the outskirts of a village, jogging, even swimming is a relaxing activity for him. He enjoys activities that do not stop once you master them. It’s quite easy for him to master things such as knife-throwing or taijutsu moves, so hobbies that you can always make progress on such as running and swimming gives him more fulfillment.
He always disliked close-minded, ignorant people. He’s lived in many situations that are frowned upon by society, so being with someone who won’t even make an effort to understand that won’t happen. He doesn’t even surround himself in the company of those people.
Sasuke shows his love through acts of service. He makes your life more efficient, easier. He’ll sharpen your weapons for you, prep vegetables and boil water while you cook, or letting you sleep in and running your morning errands for you. He will actually listen to your troubles and offer swift solutions to your problems - or handle them for you. He makes sure you’re taken care of even at his detriment. Instead of speaking about his liking towards you or asking you on a date, he requests you two do something productive or quiet together, such as training, hiking, nature-watching, or teaching you a new skill. He may even humor you with a game of shogi, but it’s no fun since he’s so good at it :(
“Let me handle it. Go rest.”
“Stay over. You’re tired.”
“You can have mine, I’m not that hungry.”
“Let’s walk there.”
“Look through the scope. Do you see it? It’s called a Crested Ibis, there’s not many of them anymore…”
“Clean the blade like this.”
The largest indicator of his love, besides poking your forehead, is allowing you into his space. This could take months if not years for him to reach this point. One of his responses to his past trauma is to hold control over his surroundings such as his belongings or current home. He does not allow people over and hates having his items moved. Even washing his dishes could trigger him because he is, although in a small way, relinquishing control of his property and safe space. Having someone invade a space he deems safe and his takes a lot of trust and healing from his past. When he lets you cook with his pots, clean his sword, even touching him affectionately, he really adores you to allow it.
He needs space for many reasons, but don’t take it as a lack of commitment or attentiveness. On the flip side, he doesn’t mind if you have your own hobbies, interests, and friends. He actually likes that you aren’t dependent on him and can enjoy time without him being present.
Sasuke has many quiet places he’s mapped on his mind and visits them to clear his mind every once in a while. They are always somewhere he can hear the rushing water of a stream or the sounds of nature. It’s the only type of noise he welcomes and enjoys, besides your voice.
Although he’s not a people-person by a long-shot, he’s very aware of how they act. Nothing slips past his eyes, from nervous body language to the contours of a knife strapped to your ankle. He’s always steps ahead.
That being said, do not lie to him. He will know and find out, whether you’re a good or bad liar. He hates it because it makes things take longer than it should than if you told the truth. It’s okay not to give him an answer; he does it all the time.
When he was in the academy, his favorite classes had primary topics on math, structure, and hands-on training. He liked teachers that encouraged solo learning and used hands-on demonstrations instead of pictures out of books. He seemed like a rule-follower, but he wasn’t. Sasuke always had his own set of rules, being in the academy just never got in the way of them.
When he is infatuated with someone, he rather be hands-off and just study his crush by listening in on their conversations, watching them at the market, or making sure they get home safe. He juggles between wanting to approach versus letting the infatuation dissolve on its own since he sees love interests as more of a distraction. If you spot him and greet him, he gives the “I was just around” excuse. Nope, he was following you.
NSFW
Sasuke gained his sexual experience when he left Konoha. He has always felt that physical desires were a distraction from his goal, so he was much older when he lost his virginity. Being a missing-nin, most of the villages you stay in are filled with brothels, dingy motels, and hagglers. He did not frown at the idea of casual trysts, most shinobi do not, but he did not like the smell of smoke and alcohol, the corruption, the drugs the women were on to remain energetic and roused. He only entertained sex when Orochimaru told him to get it over and done with at a local brothel. His reasoning was he knew Sasuke would detest it, so doing it just once would make Sasuke not allow such desires of love or sex distract him from his goal of power.
“When you think about that little girl in Konoha, think back to that night with those whores. If you drag her into this, she will end up just like them.”
He is not experienced, but like with everything, he’s a quick learner. Once you guide him on how to do cunnilingus or thrusting in a way that brings pleasure, he does not hesitate to experiment with your instructions. He’ll keep doing what brings the most noise out of you, what makes your muscles tense and your face contort in pleasure.
What turns him on is your openness to take the lead sometimes and reciprocate. Being honest about what you dislike doesn’t hurt his feelings but helps him learn about you. Telling him where to touch you and how gets him going; it’s one of the few times he enjoys being guided by you.
Please touch him. He is very sensitive to gentle touching. All his life he’s been beaten, tortured, stabbed, kicked, punched, so much that he’s accustomed to it and the sensation of physical pain doesn’t warrant much of a reaction from him. But gentle, loving touches? He feels them more acutely that it makes him shiver. Slide your fingers gently through his hair, run your hands over his skin, kiss his shoulder lightly. It will get a guaranteed reaction out of him, though restrained. One day we all hope he grows used to delicacy and tranquility.
His sex drive his high only when he is in a relationship. He can be celibate for long periods of time, but being with someone he loves adds an element to sex he welcomes.
“I’ve been gone long, Y/N.”
“No one’s coming…”
“Come with me.”
A bit of public sex turns him on. Not where people have a chance of seeing him, but in of his quiet places he escapes to. The sound of a creek rushing by and the lull of cicadas give a softer harmony to your moans he would want to hear one day.
Mild dominance and roughness is typical of him. Sasuke isn’t used to exhibiting and receiving soft contact, and it shows by how he handles you. Though he may relinquish control to you to learn something, he desires to dominate you for instinctual reasons. He will be rough with your clothing, kiss with extra force, hold your hips down as he thrusts into you, and grope you tightly.
He does not like receiving oral, at least in the beginning of your relationship. It makes him feel vulnerable and forcing himself to put his trust into you, and he hates that.
“Be careful, alright?”
“Why are you so…”
“Like this?”
“Tell me if I’m hurting you.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Take it off. Slowly.”
“Hm. Is that so?”
“I want to taste you.”
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cutesuki--bakugou · 6 years ago
Text
I don’t... What?!
Koge and Bakugou rarely argue, but when they do, it is typically over something absolutely ridiculous... such as why Koge doesn’t do that particular thing during specific times. 
Rating: Mature, for naughty conversation topics and vulgar language, but no actual naughty actions
Words:  1314
Genre: Humor, Fluff, cute insecure Bakugou
Pairing: Bakugou x Koge (OC) Mentioned Pairing: Kirishima x Nene (OC)
Please blacklist the tag cutesuki-lemons if you do not want to see this content from my blog. I will not be tagging with specific keywords for this type of content.Thank you~
Due to the nature of this post, the characters are 18+
Under the cut~
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“I’m home, Katsuki.”
Koge called casually as she walked through the apartment door, shutting it behind her before working to remove her shoes. After spending the day out with her mother, Koge had left Bakugou to his own devices, though she did find that she missed him. It wasn’t often that they spent their days off apart, so she was a bit eager to hear how his day had gone. The fact that he hadn’t yet responded to her greeting meant that he was either asleep or in a bad mood. She could only hope that it wasn’t the later.
“Katsuki?” Another soft call as she walked into the living room, finding it vacant. Her lover didn’t make himself known until she walked into the bedroom, seeing him sitting on the bed with quite the flustered scowl on his face.
“Well someone didn’t have a very good day.” The petite woman teased as she made her way towards the bed, finally gaining the attention of that crimson glare she loved so dearly. “What’s wrong, love?” A frown of her own crossed her lips as he turned his attention back to his phone, typing away with practiced skill. She assumed he had been texting someone, but who she couldn’t quite guess at the moment. All she wanted was for him to spit out what was going on, as his silence and scowl on his face was typically only reserved for extreme circumstances. At least, when it came to him ignoring her.
With a small huff, she scooted closer to him, giving a gentle tug at his hoodie sleeve. “C’mon, Katsuki, what is it? Did something happen--”
“How long were you going to go on lying to me?”
His accusation left her speechless for a moment, gawking at him in surprise. “Excuse me? Lying about what?”
Now, a frustrated blush spread across Bakugou’s cheeks, as if he were ashamed of what he had to say. “About… How I fuck you. You’ve been lying about it, that I’m any good at it!”
“How you fuck me…” Koge repeated, glancing around their bedroom a bit in bewilderment. “What the hell gave you that idea? I’ve never once said that you were bad, and I think that the fact that I continue to make love to you, very often, says otherwise.” Shifting her sitting position, Koge rested her arms across her knees that she had pulled up to her chest. “Was it something that I did or said this morning…? I thought our moment when we woke up was really nice… You were really sweet to me. Did you not like it?”
“That’s not it, Utsuro!” Bakugou leaned his head back against the wall with a small thunk, glaring off at the ceiling as he couldn’t look at her. “It’s something that you don’t do that proves that I’m bad.”
“Well what is that?” Starting to actually feel a bit guilty, Koge leaned her chin on her arms, watching him closely. “You’re the only person I’ve ever had sex with, Katsuki, and we’ve been dating for… six years now. What could I be doing wrong that you have yet to mention?”
“If it’s as good as you say it is, then why the hell don’t you ever…” Bakugou waved his hands in the air for a moment, trying to figure out how exactly he wanted to get his point across. “Squirt.”
Blunt, as always, and yet it still left Koge baffled. Never once had he concerned himself with exactly how she had her orgasms, having always been pleased with the way she writhed and screamed for him. This, however, was ridiculous, and Koge couldn’t help but give a short, sharp laugh at his statement. “Uh, Katsuki… What? You’re mad at me because I don’t squirt?”
“Don’t laugh at me, Utsuro, this is serious! You must be lying about how good it is if I can’t even make you do that.” Bakugou seemed quite set in his delusion, so Koge knew she had to figure out what was the root of this problem. Something had gotten him all worked up to make him feel this insecure about the way he made love to her, which was an intimate interaction that they both valued greatly. She could see it on his face that he was embarrassed, frustrated and feeling betrayed, but his ignorance was getting the better of him.
“Hey, now, that isn’t true.” Koge scooted up to sit right beside him, letting her legs rest over his lap as she cupped his cheek softly. “I would never lie to you about something like that, and you know it. Not all women can squirt, love. It… It’s hard to do, I think.”
“Not for Nene…”
“Uh, what? How the hell would you know that Nene can squirt--”
“Ow, don’t pinch me, it’s not that!” Bakugou yanked Koge’s hand from his face as she gave him a rough pinch, meeting her glare with one of his own. “For fucks sake, it was Kirishima! We were… talking about you two. Just… talking.”
“About our separate sex lives?” Koge eyed him suspiciously. “Why would you do that?”
“Don’t be a hypocrite, I know damn well you and Nene talk about that shit all the time.” Bakugou shoved his phone into Koge’s hands, allowing her to see the text conversation on the screen. “He made it seem like… I’m bad at it, if I can’t make you do that. Like it was normal.”
“It’s normal for them.” Koge scrolled through the conversation, feeling her face flush at the way Bakugou boasted about how he often left her a useless twitching mess by the time they were done. “Nene… Can squirt easily. I can’t… But that doesn’t mean that you don’t do amazing, Katsuki. Maybe it’s just that we haven’t figured out what can make me squirt just yet.” After getting her fill of the conversation, Koge put the phone down onto the bed. Carefully, she moved herself to sit on his lap, straddling his hips while facing him.
Bakugou put his hands firmly on his hips, though he kept his glare on the wall, shame visible on his face. “Get off me, Utsuro, you should be mad at me.”
“Mad at you? What for?” Leaning forward, Koge kissed his cheek softly, letting her hands rest on his shoulders.
“For this entire fucking conversation.”
“I’m not mad at you, Katsuki.” Her kisses continued across his jawline. “You were feeling insecure… I’m sorry if anything I did made you feel like that. I always thought I… had an obvious reaction to how much I love it.”
Bakugou let out a sigh, wrapping his arms around her slim waist to hold her closer. “You do. You’re not a good enough actor to fake any of the shit you do.”
“I’m not a good actor at all.” Cupping his cheeks with both hands, Koge kissed his lips softly. “Every reaction, every moment is genuine… There’s nothing that I would want to change.” She nuzzled her nose against his affectionately, smiling as his brow furrowed in embarrassment from the childish sign of adoration. “But, I am always up to experiment.”
“One day we’ll figure it out. I’m… sorry.” As always, his regret was always hard for him to put into words, even a small apology bringing enough shame to him that he had to hide his face in her shoulder. Koge kissed his neck softly, running her fingers through his hair and lightly scraping her nails along the back of his neck. She couldn’t help but smile as he shivered, squeezing her tighter against him.
“It’s okay, Katsuki. Just remember that I love you, more than anything in the entire world. And that love includes the way that you make love to me.”
“I love you, too, Koge. Even if you don’t squirt when I fuck you.”
“Always the romantic.”
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tuliptx · 5 years ago
Text
Outlaw Woman Ch 3
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Rated M- like for real people.
Summary- Lexi’s always been the type to do things the hard way.
Masterlist 
Happy x OC x Jax, David Hale x OC
Lexi had been relocated to a corner booth after flatly refusing to sit on the couch. “Last Friday night, my brother- MY BROTHER- was getting a hummer from some red head on that couch. I am not sitting on that couch ever again.” Happy snorted as he steadied her on her left and Tig shot him a glare from her right. “If you’re not sitting anywhere you’re brother’s had sex, we’ll have to burn down the club house and start again.” Lexi’s lip curled in disgust. “I don’t want to continue this conversation.” Tig laughed and sat her down gently in the booth before giving his brother a playful shrug. “You’re just jealous Hoover Lips prefers me.” Happy grunted as he adjusted Lexi’s leg so it was stretched out on the booth next to her with the ice resting on it. His dark eyes moved up her leg and over her body before catching her own, “Nah man, you know I prefer blonds.” He quickly looked away shoving TIg back playfully. They began to grapple with each other as Gemma joined Lexi.
The Prospect walked in then carrying two bags from the diner. Gemma had decided that they better get some food in Lexi before her drunken haze turned into drunken vomiting. “Oh god Sac, I forgive you!” Half Sac laughed as Lexi gave him a peck on the cheek and pulled her burger out of the greasy paper bag. Gemma gave him an assessing look, “I don’t.” Sac looked down blushing slightly and scuffled off to finish inventory behind the bar. Lexi gave Gemma a pointed look to which Gemma shrugged, “what? I told him not to give you any liquor until after one.” Lexi sighed mumbling under her breath, “this was special circumstances,” before taking a huge bite out of her burger.
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The door flew open and Tig and Happy both immediately stood up putting themselves in front of the two women. Gemma’s focus wasn’t on her son storming in, but on Happy. The more she thought about it the more she came to realize that Happy had always been extremely attentive of Lexi and her safety. They got along well. It had never struck her as odd; Lexi got along well with all of the boys, but Happy wasn’t like the other guys. The more she thought about it the more she realized how comfortable they were with each other- which was downright strange considering how little time Happy actually spent in Charming. Then again Happy was close with Tig- maybe it had something to do with that. Gemma was developing quite the headache.
Jax came storming in completely ignoring the posturing of the two men. “What the fuck were you thinking Lexi?” Lexi rolled her eyes groaning and leaning back. Tig moved to sit back down but Happy looked wearily between the two and decided to stay exactly where he was though he moved to cross his arms over his chest and lean casually against the pool table. “I wasn’t thinking Jax. She hit me. I told her to stop. She didn’t stop. So I stopped her.” Jax stopped to take in Lexi. He could hear in her accent that she’d been drinking. He noticed her leg- wrapped in bandages and elevated with an icepack over her ankle. Jax groaned and flopped down next to his mother, his hands rubbing up and down his face in frustration. “She wants to press charges Lexi.” Lexi rolled her eyes, “she won’t do shit.” Jax sighed heavily, “you broke her nose.” Lexi sat up proudly, “I know.” Jax groaned again.
Gemma rubbed her son’s back affectionately and he ate a few of his mom’s fries. “Did you explain to Tara why that was a bad idea?” Jax nodded wearily as Happy finally relaxed. “Do I need to talk to her?” asked Gemma. Jax glared at his mom, “yeah, because you two get along so well.” Gemma shrugged innocently. Lexi sighed happily as she ate her burger. When was Jax going to realize that if no one liked the bitch there was probably a reason why? Tara did not want this life, that’s why she left. Now, regardless of what she might or might not want, Tara did not belong.
Gemma stared blankly at her nails as she tapped them against the table top. “Maybe you should call Hale.” “Fuck no!” shouted Tig coming to stand behind his sister. Lexi choked slightly on her fry reaching for her Coke. “Why the hell would I do that?” she rasped as she struggled to get her coughing under control. “Because that boy loves you and would do anything for you, including getting Tara to shut her trap.” “You dating a cop now?” All eyes turned to where Happy was watching intently sipping on his beer. He’d sat and was leaning forward, his elbows on his knees his biceps flexing. Lexi gave him a questioning look. Why the hell was he suddenly so interested in her love life? His expression was completely unreadable as they stared at each other for a long moment.
Tig rolled his eyes, “like I’d let that happen.” Lexi shot a glare at her brother, “like you have any say over who I fucking date.” Tig grinned at her, “if you dated anyone- I’d have a say over it.” Lexi’s spine stiffened and she continued to glare at him. This was why she didn’t date in Charming. This was why she rarely had more than a weekend fling. How could she possibly introduce someone to this life? To these boys? To her boys? Tig’s smile faltered slightly as Lexi’s cold gaze was unrelenting, her baby blues lightening to a frigid gray, almost white. “Don’t do that.” He groaned putting his large hand over her face trying to block it out. “I hate when your eyes go all ‘ice queen’ on me.” She pushed his hand away before returning to her burger. “I’m not calling David.”
Jax smiled at her tossing a fry at her and turning to Happy with a crooked grin. “The guy had the hots for her for years. We are NOT friends, we’ve never gotten along, but every freaking summer the guy would just show up.” Happy said nothing, taking a final pull from his beer. “He got that job as a paper boy, just so he’d have a chance to ride his bike by the house and see Lex.” Lexi covered her reddening face with her hands slumping further into the booth. Gemma patted her shoulder lovingly. “It’s true. Hale almost lost his mind when you moved here.” Jax snorted, “oh God I forgot about that!” He turned to Happy, now flapping his hands around and laughing as he spoke. “She was fucking 16 when she moved in. Summer that we graduated. She’s laying out in the bed of her truck in this yellow fucking bikini.” Now Lexi’s ears were turning red. “Fucking gorgeous,” muttered Jax under his breath squinting eyes like if he just looked hard enough he could conjure the image. She peeked through her fingers and her eyes met Happy’s heated gaze. She reached up yanking her brother’s beer out of his hands. Tig was laughing too hard to put up a fight. She brought it to her lips but before she could take a drink Gemma yanked it away. “You’re good for now.” Lexi growled as Jax continued, “He goes driving by real slow in his brother’s car, staring at her like she’s a god damn glass of water and he’s been wandering the desert for weeks. Then, BOOM!” Jax smacked his hands together. “Mother Fucker hits the tow truck as it’s turning onto the lot.” Lexi threw an open ketchup packet at Jax hitting him in his pretty white tee shirt.
 ‘With a Rebel Yell she cried More, More, More!’
 Lexi groaned and leaned- started searching around for her phone, finally realizing it was in her back pocket she had to lift herself slightly off the seat arching her back and twisting so she could finally get it out. Two sets of eyes watched her movements intensely both completely oblivious to the calculating glances of the Queen Bee. This looked like a disaster waiting to happen to Gemma Teller.
Lexi checked the screen before swiping her finger across it with a very concerned look on her face. “Hello?” “Your Texas is showing,” teased Tig in her ear and like the petulant child he was Lexi shoved him back over her shoulder.
David Hale paced his office, Uncer’s prepaid against his ear. “Uh, hey Lexi.” “What’s up David?” She sounded suspicious, she probably had some idea what this was about he realized. “Um, Tara is pressing charges Lexi.” She cleared her throat, “is there something you can do about it?” David shook his head rubbing his hand over his eyes, “No, I mean maybe if I had taken the report, but Lex she flagged down some newbie at the hospital.” He sat on his desk with a grunt, “Lex they’ve already filed the report and Unser is coming to pick you up. Lex ATF is with him. You have to get out of there. They could keep you here for days buried under a mountain of red tape.” “FUCK! Thanks David!” She hung up abruptly.
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