#this week has been such a wild wonderful ride
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Roudise Week Day 7: Secret/Magic

Happy last day of @roudiseshipweek!! It’s been a fun, wild ride, and I must give a huge, hearty thank you to @devilh0rnsinc for organizing this week and making it possible. I didn’t think I’d be able to get a drawing out for each day of this week, but I did!! And I feel very proud of myself because of it.
For this drawing, I decided to sketch out Rudy doing a magic trick and offering a flower to a flustered Louise. She’s secretly enjoying the whole thing, she’d just never admit it out loud!!
[ID]: Digital fanart of Louise Belcher and “Regular-Sized” Rudy Stieblitz from Bob’s Burgers. They are seen in a simple, sketchy style with monochromatic coloring and simple shading. Rudy is leaning forward on one leg, almost on one knee, offering a large flower to Louise. He’s holding a magician top hat in his other hand. He has rather short, fluffy hair, and has a large, joyful, open-mouthed grin on his face. Louise is standing with her arms at her sides, with a shocked expression on her face. She’s wearing a hat with floppy bunny ears and a long, flowy dress. She also has large, fluffy pigtails. Part of her hair is sticking out on her forehead. She’s blushing. They are standing in Louise’s family’s restaurant’s kitchen.
#bobs burgers#roudise#roudiseweek2024#roudiseweek24#i love them so much 🥹#this week has been such a wild wonderful ride#and i’ve enjoyed every minute of it#of course i had to close out the week by having rudy do magic#it’s his thing!!
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
i swear my stepdad is so illogical AND stubborn it hurts
#okay so strap in coz this is a wild ride#tl;dr we have been without heat and warm water for years and i mean literal years#because he refuses to pay off some debt he built up with the company#because he feels unfairly treated (let's not get into this. it absolutely makes no sense) by the company#so instead of doing the logical step of growing some balls and admitting he made a mistake and paying off his shit#he's been looking for a new supplier all over but the deal IS#that he's been doing this with a couple of places before and people are hesitant to even make him any offers#and you'd think that learning about THAT at least now he'd be like. idk willing to just pay off his debt and be done with it#but you'd be WRONG#now he's looking to just have our entire heating system replaced for the teeny tiny price of 25000 bucks#mind you his debt isn't even a THIRD of that#and obviously he can't afford those 25000 bucks#so what's his next step now you might wonder?#well good thing you asked. his next step is going off on ME for not paying towards the new heating he wants#and now that that's not working for him guess what he did next?#that's right. he bought shit expensive 'space heaters' that are pretty much just small little boxes that you plug into an outlet#and he swears up and down that they're going to heat up our house (it's negative degrees outside)#(it's obviously not working)#and genuinely. all i can think of is how much money he shoved into trying to macgyver this house into a house with warm water and heating#and how he blew off ten thousands of bucks he got paid when he retired within the span of two weeks#when this debt could have been paid off ten times over by now#so now you might be thinking. okay tiago. why don't you move out#good question you see. my mom is disabled and reliant on someone who cares for her#something that he can't won't and shouldn't do because the last time he sorta kinda tried she almost died and we had to call an ambulance#she wouldn't eat a thing if i weren't there to cook. the house would fall into disrepair if i wouldn't do maintenance all around#i've set up (functioning) heat in some areas she occupies and i've gotten a boiler going so she at least has warm water#i'm paying off their bills to make sure he doesn't skip on paying any others. i'm buying groceries for them because again they wouldn't get#any for themselves#and finally. i've offered to pay off his debt so that we can finally live like normal fucking people do#and guess what. guess WHAT. he just got mad at me for not adding money to that 25000 bucks pool for that new fancy heating he wants
24 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sometimes I wish I kept the habit of writing down my dreams. I usually let them gently float away from my recollection because I don't want to get frustrated trying to remember every detail in the morning instead of going about my day. But sometimes I wake up and think "damn, that's the whole setting of a fantasy book if I ever wanted to write one".
Today I managed to play out a action movie running from and sabotaging nobles during the French revolution AND witness a vaguely Love Never Dies love story where everyone and everything looked straight out of a palace-museum AND after a vague wedding / LND-inspired necklace gifting, I shit you not, a servant announces to "the court" (???) that Senator Aaron Burr is visiting. After which Leslie Odom Jr. walks in in full anachronistic regalia except "are those sneakers?" - I actually thought, mid-dream. Bro, what the actual fuck 😂.
#twilit personal#During the lnd segment 'music of the night' played - which I noted as vaguely off#And i thought ''man this version of LND has way more fluff and lore'' (regarding the les mis part lol)#'' i sti love the AUS version but I wonder how this is going to end'' 😂 if you don't the end of LND it is Not fluffy lmao#Also I vaguely remember tension between 2 dudes from the first segment BUT already in a market building which later evolved into the palace#Dreams are wild. I love when I wake up and remember thinking 'that doesn't sound quite right' during but I shrug and enjoy the ride lmao#I hate that I KNOW everyone was wearing super detailed gorgeous clothing but I couldn't draw it from memory if I tried. Ugh#Someone wore a black dress with a TON of gold detailing. And the necklace looked worth a fortune#Sigh. This is why I let dreams float away lol. Else I get jealous of my own brain#Weirdly I woke up lying on my back with my legs crossed (very out of character) feeling like I'd been like that for hours#With my hands folded on my belly and all. Usually when I run around in dreams I move all over but I def was watching a play last night 😂😂#Lastly: I haven't really been thinking of musicals recently except listening to 2 songs from Hamilton last week or so. Wild.#Anyway on my day
1 note
·
View note
Text
this idea has been in my brain for over 2 months and I finally had time to make it. is this too earnestly cringe to upload? i am beyond the capacity to care. enjoy
now on youtube!
[link to drive folder w/ downloads including instrumental]
Everything was chill back in Hermitcraft 6 (lying)
Then Grian got up to his usual tricks
The name of the game is kill or be killed
No swords no bows no PVP skills
First Rendog found his inner fish
But he couldn’t stick the landing and his bones went squish
Stress flew through the dares with talent and grace
But she didn’t catch the totem and she fell on her face
Then Ren came back with a sinister vice
Tricked X with a race and blew him up twice
Looks like steel beams can’t be melted by slime
‘Cause Jevin didn’t see Mumbo’s tower in time
Stress set a trap at the shopping district
And dropped Scar right into a pufferfish pit
Cub’s stunt got stuck and X felt robbed
So he got a skeleton to finish the job
This is the Hermitcraft showdown of Hermitcraft destiny
Players, mobs, and explosions as far as the eye can see
And only one will survive, I wonder who it will be
This is the Hermitcraft showdown of Hermitcraft destiny
Tango and Impulse were shopping at the mall
But the store detonated and it killed them all
Grian had a no-good-very-bad-day
And when he made it back home he got blown away
Then False broke a block and before she could speak
A giant underground explosion sent her into next week
Cleo signed up for a warehouse tour
But she didn’t read the waiver and she fell through the floor
And TinFoilChef went laughing to the grave
Then without another word went back into his caves
Tango’s game was a race against the clock
And Keralis threw an egg at the most explosive block
Now revenge is a dish that’s best served cold
But Bdubs got it boiling as Cleo foretold
And when Joe got the rug pulled from under his feet
He tried to play it cool but he couldn’t take the heat
This is the Hermitcraft showdown of Hermitcraft destiny
It’s 90% explosions as far as the eye can see
And only one will survive, I wonder who it will be
This is the Hermitcraft showdown….
In another dimension
With danger abound
Mumbo threw his ender-pearl
But missed solid ground
And Doc had played smart
But Grian played mean
He was dead on arrival,
The trap unforeseen
Then one player remained,
One Dragon Head left-
For the ride of his life,
Iskall auctioned his death
He beat Joe Hills And ZombieCle-o
And every other member of the Dragon Bros:
FalseSymmetry and BDoubleO
And Grian and Mumbo Jumbolio
Also Rendog, Jevin, TangoTek and Cubfan,
Stress, Scar, and X just couldn’t beat the Iskallman
TinFoilChef or ImpulseSV
Doc can rock with blocks but can’t flee
So Grian and Impulse forged a team
And together they built a death machine
With a narrative arc from beginning to end
And a wild surprise around every bend
When the show and the ride were finally done
Our champion knew that his course had run
All that remains from the end of this fight
Is a piece of bloodstained diorite
This is the hermitcraft showdown of hermitcraft destiny
Just way too many explosions - where do they get all that TNT???
And only one will survive, I wonder who it will be
This is the Hermitcraft showdown
(this is the Hermitcraft showdown)
This is the Hermitcraft showdown
(this is the Hermitcraft showdown)
This is the Hermitcraft showdown
(this is the Hermitcraft showdown)
Of Hermitcraft destiny
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Rub You the Right Way
Pairing: Choso x f!reader
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
Word Count: ~4.1k
cw: female reader, 2nd-person POV, explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut – oral sex (cunnilingus, fellatio), hand job, face-riding, face-fucking, use and mention of sex toys, cum eating
Summary: You've always been cordial with your shy next-door neighbor Choso. One day, you receive the package you've been expecting, finding out a little too late that it isn't your package at all; it's his. What you find inside makes you wonder that maybe your sweet and quiet neighbor has wild side, one you’re curious to see for yourself.
Author’s Notes: First Choso fic! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are not expected but always appreciated. Consider this my unofficial return from hiatus. Enjoy! Divider by the wonderful and super talented @/cafekitsune!
part 7 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series

The trek home from the office is especially grueling today. Your backpack is heavy with a clunky work laptop that’s been due for an upgrade along with a pile of documents that need to be reviewed ASAP. One hand carries the dinner you bought at the station while the other hoists a heavy bag of groceries you picked up during lunch, thinking it would be productive to get as much of your errands done today before hunkering down for the weekend to do a job that doesn’t pay you enough to work overtime.
You eventually arrive to your apartment complex, making one more necessary pit stop to the mail room. Inside, you recognize the distinct pink-hair of the boy standing in front of the lockers. He’s your next-door neighbor’s younger brother who visits from time-to-time. “Hi Yuji!” you beam at him.
He turns to face you, eyes crinkling happily as he smiles. “Hey! How’s it going?”
You drop your bags to open your own locker. “I’m alright. Got a busy weekend working. And you?”
He kneels down towards the boxes in front of him. “Same, except studying for exams.”
“Are you picking up your brother’s packages?” It’s a well-known fact by now that Choso isn’t fond of leaving his apartment or interacting with people in general. It doesn’t bother you though; he’s a great neighbor who barely makes a peep. Never has he ever rubbed you the wrong way, despite his reclusive nature. Sometimes, through his brother, he’ll give you an offering of cookies from the batch he baked that week. On the days you’re working overtime, he’ll send Yuji to check in on you, making sure you’re not too stressed or overexerted. And on the rare occasion that the two of you meet face-to-face, either entering or leaving the apartment at the same time, your heart skips just the tiniest beat at how his face softens when you greet him with a smile. From these tiny gestures alone, you’ve determined that Choso Kamo is a sweetheart. Quiet, but most importantly, a sweetheart.
Yuji slides the stack out from Choso’s locker, answering you. “Yup. I also had some stuff delivered here, so I figured I’d just grab everything.”
You stare at the small package in your own locker, evaluating how you’re going to carry it to your room in one trip. There’s no space in any of the bags and you’re almost convinced that you can balance it on top of your head as if you actually possess the proper skills to do so (you don’t). “Need help?” Yuji chuckles. Before you answer, he grabs it, placing it on top of a box similar in size on his stack.
“Thank you so much!”
As the elevator rides to the third floor, you continue to chat casually with Yuji. The two of you walk to your neighboring rooms and when he reaches for his keys, the stack topples over, the boxes now strewn across on the hallway floor. He blushes, collecting them hastily back into a neat pile. “I’m sorry, I hope there isn’t anything fragile in there.” He quickly slides you a box, avoiding your gaze to hide his embarrassment.
It's new office supplies you ordered for your workstation at home, so you hardly care even if there is a bit of damage done. “Don’t worry about it, it’s all good,” you assure him, using your foot to push it towards your front door. “Thank you for your help, Yuji. Tell your brother I say hi.”
“Will do. Have a good night.”
Finally home, you drop all your belongings, letting out a relieved sigh. One-by-one, you put everything away: the groceries in their appropriate places, your lukewarm dinner in the microwave, and all your work junk on the dining table, where you’ll be sat at for most of this weekend starting tomorrow. You save the package for later, planning to refill your supplies tonight so you don’t have to worry about it the next morning.
You soon find out that something even better is waiting for you inside.
~~~
Choso is sprawled on the couch, too lazy to cook dinner. He ordered delivery from Yuji’s favorite pizza joint a few blocks away, which should be arriving any minute now, according to his calculations. When he hears the door open, he sits up, watching his brother enter with a tower of boxes in his hands. “I don’t remember ordering that much stuff,” he grumbles, standing up to help him.
“Most of these are mine. I think only this one is yours.” Yuji passes him a small box, which Choso quickly grabs to toss into his room, hoping to avoiding any questions about it. Truth be told, the contents of that box is way too embarrassing to explain to his precious baby brother. Inside is the sex toy he recently purchased online. It’s essentially a silicone cock sleeve, open on both ends for simple clean-up, made entirely of pliable material for ease and comfort. To put it simply, it’s a fleshlight. A state-of-the-art, new and improved fleshlight, he would like to emphasize. He’s been looking forward to using it all week and once Yuji leaves tonight, he’s going to give it a proper test run until he’s a puddle in the sheets.
It’s been a while since Choso’s been intimate with someone other than himself. A few bad breakups and past betrayals have led him to distrust most people outside of his intimate circle. The unpredictable nature of people, strangers, is frightening to him, so it’s better to avoid them completely. He has the luxury of working a job that’s fully remote, and aside from his brothers and the few colleagues he is forced to converse with periodically, it’s easy for him to remain a recluse, and he’s perfectly content with that. As for his sexual needs, he’s managed to make it this far in this drought thanks to sex toys and pornography. And while he’s aware that it’s not the most glamorous lifestyle, it works for him.
“By the way, your neighbor says hi,” Yuji mentions, opening his packages one-by-one. “She came into the mailroom.”
Choso says your name in the form of a question to clarify, though he’s certain of the answer. The only other human contact he has outside his circle is with you, his next-door neighbor. He doesn’t leave the house much, but on the occasion he does, he always hopes it’s you he runs into. He often worries that one day, you’ll realize what a pathetic loner he is and stop showing him that gorgeous smile of yours. So far, that hasn’t happened yet, so he cherishes those tiny moments every chance he gets. Something about that smile, something about you, makes him feel good. Safe.
“Yup,” Yuji confirms. “She had her hands full, so I helped her carry a package.”
Before Choso can inquire any further, there’s a knock on the door, signaling the arrival of their pizza. After thanking the delivery man, the two gather at the dining table, ready to dig into their dinner. Choso listens intently as Yuji laments on his weekly occurring university woes with a mouth full of pepperoni and sausage. As much as he adores his younger brother, he’s eager for his departure so he can have alone time to break in his new toy.
At eleven, without a crumb left of the pizza and the recycling bin filled with flattened cardboard boxes, Yuji finally announces that he’s leaving. He stuffs his newly delivered items, which includes textbooks, notepads, and a bunch of miscellaneous items, in his bag. “I’ll see you next week, bro. Take care of yourself,” he says, squeezing his big brother into a warm embrace. There’s always the smallest hint of concern in his voice whenever he leaves like this. Does he worry about him? For living a life of seclusion, constantly in fear of the outside world? Sure, it may sound lonely. In fact, it is lonely. But it’s easier to stay safe in the comfort of his own home than risk being hurt from the unknown. It’s better this way…isn’t it?
Choso muses on his brother’s parting words in the silence of his apartment for much longer than he intends to. He decides that the best way to keep him from spiraling further is a distraction, and that means fucking himself silly into temporary bliss until he knocks out for the night. Hidden away in various drawers of his bedroom are a plethora of options to choose from: vibrators, masturbators, cock rings, even the sex doll tucked deep in his closet. Tonight, however, is all about his shiny new toy. Pristine and untouched for him to ruin as much as he wants. He picks it up from the floor, ripping the tape off quickly, too impatient to inspect the exterior for any potential damage. When a stapler drops, almost hitting his feet, he stares down at it, confused. Thinking it’s a weird bonus item the sex shop has sent him, he chuckles nervously, still searching. Each item he uncovers leaves him more and more baffled: a container of paper clips, a wad of sticky notes, bundles of red pens, another fucking stapler. Finally, he checks the shipping label ripped partially from his haste, whatever color remaining on his face draining completely.
This isn’t his. It’s yours.
Which means…
By the way, your neighbor says hi. She came into the mailroom.
She had her hands full, so I helped her carry a package.
Oh fuck.
~~~
It’s near midnight when you’re ready to turn in for the night. You almost forget about the box sitting idly on the floor by your shoes, exactly where you left it a few hours ago. With your computer all set up for work tomorrow, you think it’s best to organize your new supplies before you actually do forget. At your desk, you open the package with a pair of scissors, excited for the new staplers you bought, a standard one and a heavy duty one. It’s surprising how neatly it’s wrapped, covered in tissue paper like some sort of gift. After removing all the extra layers, you finally get to the reveal, which renders you speechless.
Nestled neatly amongst more delicate tissue paper, the translucent material almost luminous against the dim glow from the lamplight, is a sex toy. Call it what you want: a penis stroker, a male masturbator, a pocket pussy. There’s absolutely no doubt in your mind what is before you. A fucking fleshlight.
Besides the obvious appearance, the dead giveaway is the user manual included with it, displaying in big, bold print “The Cock Stroker 3000 – New and Improved!”. Lifting the box up to inspect the shipping label, you notice that it says Choso’s name, not yours. If you weren’t so stunned by this unexpected discovery, you’d be giggling at the absurdity of it all. Instead, you’re gawking at the lewd gadget, unsure what to do next.
“Fuck!”
An intense shout from the other side of the wall snaps you out of it. That’s the loudest you’ve ever heard your neighbor, and you can only assume that he has also just realized this unfortunate mix-up. There’s no way the two of you can pretend this isn’t happening. Besides, the last thing you want is for Choso to think you have a bad impression of him after this. Because you don’t, not one bit. It’s perfectly normal for people to have sex toys. In fact, it’s healthy. Even the thought of him using it on himself intrigues you. The hungry expression on his face, tongue lolling out of his mouth, those usually pale cheeks blushing a deep red. The obscene squelch of the wet silicone surrounding his engorged cock, leaking with precum. Closer and closer to the edge, ready to burst any second with your lips near the tip, ready to swallow his load…
You almost curse out loud yourself, ashamed for having such lewd thoughts about your sweet, innocent next-door neighbor. But maybe he’s not as innocent as you think.
Ultimately, you decide the best way to move forward from this is to nip it in the bud. With the opened package in your hands, you walk over to his front door, knocking three times. You hear a faint, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” from within, then hurried footsteps growing louder. Without removing the chain lock, he answers, peering at you through the narrow crack, not saying anything.
Nervous, you greet him with the best smile you can muster. “Hi Choso. I think there was a little mix-up.”
He clears his throat before mumbling a short, “Yeah.”
You glance away from him, staring at the floor, too embarrassed to meet his gaze for this next part. “I opened it without checking the label first. I’m so sorry.”
He shuts the door suddenly, startling you. There’s the distinct rattle of the chain being fiddled with and the door swings open fully, Choso towering over you, a serious expression on his face. He shows you a box, revealing all the office supplies you ordered earlier in the week. Without saying another word, you do the exchange, anticipating that this will be the end of it.
It surprises you when he apologizes quietly, focused on the small space separating you. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” He hides it behind his back, as if doing so will erase the image of it from your memory. “You must think I’m disgusting.”
You shake your head, ignoring the instinct to step closer and comfort him with a hug. The last thing you want to do is cross even more lines tonight. “I don’t, not even the slightest. It’s okay, Choso. This is totally normal and totally fine.”
“You don’t have to say that – ”
“But I mean it! I really do! There’s nothing wrong with it!” Desperate for him to believe you, you confess, “I have sex toys too, plenty of them!”
This time, he actually looks at you with a mixture of intrigue and skepticism. “You don’t have to lie for my sake.”
“I’m not lying!” you urge him.
He retreats inside his apartment, speaking once again through the crack. “I appreciate you trying to make this better, but I think it’s best that we never speak again. Goodnight.”
With that, he shuts the door, leaving you with a lump in your throat, devastated. In your frenzied attempt to fix this, you return to your room, searching your bedside drawer for your favorite vibrator. If words aren’t enough to convince him, then maybe actual proof will. Without taking a moment to reconsider the hole you’re digging yourself deeper and deeper into, you pound on his door, the sex toy clasped in your other hand.
When he answers, you shove it in his face, vindicated that you can prove your point with physical evidence. “See? I told you! I have toys too, so there’s nothing for you to be ashamed about.”
He squints at the vibrator squeezed in your fist as if inspecting it like a foreign object. “That’s it?”
You glare at him, offended by his response. “What do you mean?”
He tilts his head to examine it at another angle. “There’s only one button.”
“One button is all I need,” you argue, defensive about your favorite being criticized. “Sure, it’s small, but that’s what I like about it. It fits comfortably in my hand and with just a single push of the button, I can experience three different levels of intensity. What more do I need?!”
He smirks, amused at your rambling. “I just don’t see how something this simple can be useful, that’s all.” It’s the closest to a smile you’ve seen from him; it has your belly fluttering.
You hold back a laugh. “I bet it packs more of a punch than that Cock Sucker 2000 or whatever.”
“3000,” he corrects, grinning, causing your heart to race. “I haven’t tried it yet, but it’s the best on the market right now.” He hesitates, his next words coming out of his mouth slowly, testing the waters. “Maybe you can show me what your little toy can do. Prove me wrong.”
You never expected this from him, but that’s what makes this exciting. All you can think of in this moment is showing him just how wet you can get. “Fine,” you agree, stepping towards him. “But only if you show me what your little toy can do, too.”
~~~
Never in a million years did Choso predict that this would be the outcome of your bizarre mix-up. You, his next-door neighbor, on his bed, naked from the waist down. Your t-shirt riding up your stomach with your legs split apart, the cute vibrator you love so much pressed to your clit. He kneels in front of you, too transfixed at the erotic sight before him to give attention to the erection strained in his sweatpants.
“You’re next,” you say, glancing at his lap.
He nods, all the confidence he had just a few minutes ago when he initially proposed this idea thrown out the window. Now, he’s back to being his nervous self, afraid to be vulnerable with someone he barely knows.
You set the vibrator beside you, closing your legs. “Are you okay?”
He’s frozen, tempted to call the whole thing off. Go back to being neighbors and nothing more. Go back to being lonely Choso and pathetic Choso, who’s scared of everyone and everything and –
“Hey.” It’s only now he realizes that the two of you are face-to-face, foreheads pressed, noses touching. Your voice is gentle, your palms soft on his cheeks. You smile at him, full of warmth and compassion. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
“It’s been a while since I’ve been with someone,” he admits. “I’m nervous.” A myriad of what-ifs play out in his head. What if he’s bad? What if you don’t like it? What if this ruins whatever sliver of hope the two of you have at being friends? At being anything more?
“We’ll go slow then,” you assure him, brushing your lips to his. That genuine smile of yours is enough to convince him that it’s worth the risk. That, and how fucking good it feels to have your mouth on his. He closes his eyes, leaning into the kiss, relishing the warmth of your breath. He finds himself gradually losing control of his inhibitions, his carnal instincts taking over, hungry for more of you. He slips his tongue inside, swirling around yours, kisses growing frantic and sloppy. You tug at the collar of his shirt, pulling him towards you. His heart pounds in his chest as he roams your body, fingers grazing your perked nipples from outside your top. You whisper his name, so luscious and sweet in your voice. He’d be lying if he said he’s never imagined it before. How you’d sound whimpering from his touch. How you’d feel between his massive hands. How you’d look with his cock filling you up to the brim.
He can’t stand it anymore. He’s aching, begging for release from the confines of his pants. Quickly, he removes them, freeing his throbbing erection. You gasp, marveling at the size of it. “Oh fuck, Choso. You’re so big.”
“Yeah?” he breathes out, fumbling for the Cock Sucker 3000 beside him. He slathers a generous amount of lube on his shaft and inside the toy. Foreheads pressed together once more, you both focus on his lap, watching it sink smoothly down his dick. The coldness of the lube and rubbery flexibility of the silicone surrounding him is familiar, though having someone spectate makes this all the more titillating.
“Fuck,” you swear, amazed at how it covers his entire length. You ogle at him as he starts slowly, eventually increasing to a steady pace. Your pussy flutters, incredibly aroused to see this man pumping his cock in front of you. For you.
“Do it with me.” His gaze flickers to the vibrator beside you. “You should feel good too.”
You spread your legs, displaying your cunt to him, already sopping wet with arousal. His eyes follow your every move as you tease the tip slowly up and down your pussy lips. Finding the right spot on your clit, you place your finger on the button of the toy, bracing yourself for what’s to come. As soon as you press it, the vibrations from level one alone are enough to send you wild. Knees shaking, feet flexing, moans pouring out of your open mouth. He continues to watch you, restraining his grunts as he strokes himself faster. Desperate for more, you click the button twice, increasing the vibrations to the max level. Within seconds, you’re coming, back arched and head thrown into the pillows behind you. Tossing the vibrator aside, you stare up at the ceiling, dizzy and disoriented from your ecstatic high, pussy shiny with your orgasm. Choso’s voice is so faint, you don’t understand him at first. You sit up to face him, waiting for him to repeat himself.
“Can you ride my face?” he asks meekly.
More than willing to accept his request, you nod in response, grinning. His expression relaxes and when you lean nearer to him, palm pressed flat on his chest, he even cracks a smile as he’s lies down on the bed, eager to have you like this. You straddle him, facing away from the headboard while his head rests at the foot of the bed. Carefully, you lower yourself until his mouth is pressed to your pussy. His tongue circles your clit slowly and he releases his grip from his toy to hold onto your ass, squeezing the soft flesh firmly. You don’t take your eyes off each other as you rub yourself across his face, his mouth open, swallowing every drop of you. When you reach your second orgasm, you’re practically bouncing on him as he smothers himself deeper, humming in satisfaction as he sucks hard on your clit, flicking it with his tongue.
You lift yourself off him, spent and completely wrecked. Still, you want to touch him, treat him as well as he treated you, make him come as hard as you did. You position yourself between his thighs, admiring the silicone sleeve hugging his dick. “Your turn.”
Sitting up on his elbows, he watches as you grab hold of the toy, stroking him with it. He moans, tongue hanging of his mouth, drool leaking from the corners of his lips, eyes half-lidded. His moans turn into whimpers when you start cradling his balls with your other hand, his body twitching from the sensation. The tip peeks out from the other end, a thick wad of precum collecting at the slit, so enticing that you’re salivating for a taste.
“Your mouth,” he stammers, barely able to speak.
“What?” you ask breathily, inching closer and closer.
“Want your mouth.” He swallows hard, voice trembling. “Please.”
Excited, you remove the toy from him, in awe at the way his fat cock flops heavily against his abdomen. You take him in your fist, loving how hot and throbbing he is in your grip. He’s coated in lube and precum, so slippery with your fingers wrapped around his girth. Unable to resist any longer, you bow your head, licking the pearl off the tip, savoring the taste. He shudders, letting out a loud, “Fuck!”
It’s so much better than a toy. The wet heat of your mouth surrounding him is better than any masturbator, fleshlight, pocket pussy, whatever silly contraption he uses to get by. The swirl of your tongue gliding along the shaft, the vibrations of your moans as you take him all the way to the back of your throat, the view of your pretty head bobbing up and down his lap. Nothing in his collection compares to this. This is real. You are real.
He fucks your throat, unable to resist bucking his hips against you, timing his thrusts to meet yours. It doesn’t take much longer for him to be pushed over the edge. You pull off for a brief moment to smile at him, pumping him fast. “Come for me, Choso. Come in my mouth.”
At this, he completely loses himself, muffling his incessant moans into his forearm, too shy to watch you guzzle down his entire load until he’s milked of every last drop. You scatter delicate kisses along the entire length of him, even down to his balls. Too sensitive now, he pats you gently on the head, making you look up at him, a warm smile on your face. He smiles back, caressing your cheek, thumb grazing your soft skin. You lie beside him, nuzzling into his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow to a steady, relaxed pace. He slides his arm around you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Thank you.”
This world is a terrifying place for Choso Kamo. But with you in his arms, he feels a bit braver. He’s safe with you.
#choso kamo#choso x reader#choso smut#choso x you#choso jjk#jjk x reader#jjk smut#choso kamo smut#choso kamo x reader#choso kamo x you#kamo choso x reader#kamo choso smut#kamo choso x you
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Rub You the Right Way - Part 1
Part 2 | Part 3
Pairing: Choso x f!reader
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
Word Count: ~4.1k
cw: female reader, 2nd-person POV, explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut – oral sex (cunnilingus, fellatio), hand job, face-riding, face-fucking, use and mention of sex toys, cum eating
Summary: You've always been cordial with your shy next-door neighbor Choso. One day, you receive the package you've been expecting, finding out a little too late that it isn't your package at all; it's his. What you find inside makes you wonder that maybe your sweet and quiet neighbor has wild side, one you’re curious to see for yourself.
Author’s Notes: This is a repost from my old account! It's the first Choso fic I've ever written and I enjoyed it so much that I wrote a Part 2 and a Part 3 (coming soon)! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are not expected but always appreciated. Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.
The trek home from the office is especially grueling today. Your backpack is heavy with a clunky work laptop that’s been due for an upgrade along with a pile of documents that need to be reviewed ASAP. One hand carries the dinner you bought at the station while the other hoists a heavy bag of groceries you picked up during lunch, thinking it would be productive to get as much of your errands done today before hunkering down for the weekend to do a job that doesn’t pay you enough to work overtime.
You eventually arrive to your apartment complex, making one more necessary pit stop to the mail room. Inside, you recognize the distinct pink-hair of the boy standing in front of the lockers. He’s your next-door neighbor’s younger brother who visits from time-to-time. “Hi Yuji!” you beam at him.
He turns to face you, eyes crinkling happily as he smiles. “Hey! How’s it going?”
You drop your bags to open your own locker. “I’m alright. Got a busy weekend working. And you?”
He kneels down towards the boxes in front of him. “Same, except studying for exams.”
“Are you picking up your brother’s packages?” It’s a well-known fact by now that Choso isn’t fond of leaving his apartment or interacting with people in general. It doesn’t bother you though; he’s a great neighbor who barely makes a peep. Never has he ever rubbed you the wrong way, despite his reclusive nature. Sometimes, through his brother, he’ll give you an offering of cookies from the batch he baked that week. On the days you’re working overtime, he’ll send Yuji to check in on you, making sure you’re not too stressed or overexerted. And on the rare occasion that the two of you meet face-to-face, either entering or leaving the apartment at the same time, your heart skips just the tiniest beat at how his face softens when you greet him with a smile. From these tiny gestures alone, you’ve determined that Choso Kamo is a sweetheart. Quiet, but most importantly, a sweetheart.
Yuji slides the stack out from Choso’s locker, answering you. “Yup. I also had some stuff delivered here, so I figured I’d just grab everything.”
You stare at the small package in your own locker, evaluating how you’re going to carry it to your room in one trip. There’s no space in any of the bags and you’re almost convinced that you can balance it on top of your head as if you actually possess the proper skills to do so (you don’t). “Need help?” Yuji chuckles. Before you answer, he grabs it, placing it on top of a box similar in size on his stack.
“Thank you so much!”
As the elevator rides to the third floor, you continue to chat casually with Yuji. The two of you walk to your neighboring rooms and when he reaches for his keys, the stack topples over, the boxes now strewn across on the hallway floor. He blushes, collecting them hastily back into a neat pile. “I’m sorry, I hope there isn’t anything fragile in there.” He quickly slides you a box, avoiding your gaze to hide his embarrassment.
It's new office supplies you ordered for your workstation at home, so you hardly care even if there is a bit of damage done. “Don’t worry about it, it’s all good,” you assure him, using your foot to push it towards your front door. “Thank you for your help, Yuji. Tell your brother I say hi.”
“Will do. Have a good night.”
Finally home, you drop all your belongings, letting out a relieved sigh. One-by-one, you put everything away: the groceries in their appropriate places, your lukewarm dinner in the microwave, and all your work junk on the dining table, where you’ll be sat at for most of this weekend starting tomorrow. You save the package for later, planning to refill your supplies tonight so you don’t have to worry about it the next morning.
You soon find out that something even better is waiting for you inside.
~~~
Choso is sprawled on the couch, too lazy to cook dinner. He ordered delivery from Yuji’s favorite pizza joint a few blocks away, which should be arriving any minute now, according to his calculations. When he hears the door open, he sits up, watching his brother enter with a tower of boxes in his hands. “I don’t remember ordering that much stuff,” he grumbles, standing up to help him.
“Most of these are mine. I think only this one is yours.” Yuji passes him a small box, which Choso quickly grabs to toss into his room, hoping to avoiding any questions about it. Truth be told, the contents of that box is way too embarrassing to explain to his precious baby brother. Inside is the sex toy he recently purchased online. It’s essentially a silicone cock sleeve, open on both ends for simple clean-up, made entirely of pliable material for ease and comfort. To put it simply, it’s a fleshlight. A state-of-the-art, new and improved fleshlight, he would like to emphasize. He’s been looking forward to using it all week and once Yuji leaves tonight, he’s going to give it a proper test run until he’s a puddle in the sheets.
It’s been a while since Choso’s been intimate with someone other than himself. A few bad breakups and past betrayals have led him to distrust most people outside of his intimate circle. The unpredictable nature of people, strangers, is frightening to him, so it’s better to avoid them completely. He has the luxury of working a job that’s fully remote, and aside from his brothers and the few colleagues he is forced to converse with periodically, it’s easy for him to remain a recluse, and he’s perfectly content with that. As for his sexual needs, he’s managed to make it this far in this drought thanks to sex toys and pornography. And while he’s aware that it’s not the most glamorous lifestyle, it works for him.
“By the way, your neighbor says hi,” Yuji mentions, opening his packages one-by-one. “She came into the mailroom.”
Choso says your name in the form of a question to clarify, though he’s certain of the answer. The only other human contact he has outside his circle is with you, his next-door neighbor. He doesn’t leave the house much, but on the occasion he does, he always hopes it’s you he runs into. He often worries that one day, you’ll realize what a pathetic loner he is and stop showing him that gorgeous smile of yours. So far, that hasn’t happened yet, so he cherishes those tiny moments every chance he gets. Something about that smile, something about you, makes him feel good. Safe.
“Yup,” Yuji confirms. “She had her hands full, so I helped her carry a package.”
Before Choso can inquire any further, there’s a knock on the door, signaling the arrival of their pizza. After thanking the delivery man, the two gather at the dining table, ready to dig into their dinner. Choso listens intently as Yuji laments on his weekly occurring university woes with a mouth full of pepperoni and sausage. As much as he adores his younger brother, he’s eager for his departure so he can have alone time to break in his new toy.
At eleven, without a crumb left of the pizza and the recycling bin filled with flattened cardboard boxes, Yuji finally announces that he’s leaving. He stuffs his newly delivered items, which includes textbooks, notepads, and a bunch of miscellaneous items, in his bag. “I’ll see you next week, bro. Take care of yourself,” he says, squeezing his big brother into a warm embrace. There’s always the smallest hint of concern in his voice whenever he leaves like this. Does he worry about him? For living a life of seclusion, constantly in fear of the outside world? Sure, it may sound lonely. In fact, it is lonely. But it’s easier to stay safe in the comfort of his own home than risk being hurt from the unknown. It’s better this way…isn’t it?
Choso muses on his brother’s parting words in the silence of his apartment for much longer than he intends to. He decides that the best way to keep him from spiraling further is a distraction, and that means fucking himself silly into temporary bliss until he knocks out for the night. Hidden away in various drawers of his bedroom are a plethora of options to choose from: vibrators, masturbators, cock rings, even the sex doll tucked deep in his closet. Tonight, however, is all about his shiny new toy. Pristine and untouched for him to ruin as much as he wants. He picks it up from the floor, ripping the tape off quickly, too impatient to inspect the exterior for any potential damage. When a stapler drops, almost hitting his feet, he stares down at it, confused. Thinking it’s a weird bonus item the sex shop has sent him, he chuckles nervously, still searching. Each item he uncovers leaves him more and more baffled: a container of paper clips, a wad of sticky notes, bundles of red pens, another fucking stapler. Finally, he checks the shipping label ripped partially from his haste, whatever color remaining on his face draining completely.
This isn’t his. It’s yours.
Which means…
By the way, your neighbor says hi. She came into the mailroom.
She had her hands full, so I helped her carry a package.
Oh fuck.
~~~
It’s near midnight when you’re ready to turn in for the night. You almost forget about the box sitting idly on the floor by your shoes, exactly where you left it a few hours ago. With your computer all set up for work tomorrow, you think it’s best to organize your new supplies before you actually do forget. At your desk, you open the package with a pair of scissors, excited for the new staplers you bought, a standard one and a heavy duty one. It’s surprising how neatly it’s wrapped, covered in tissue paper like some sort of gift. After removing all the extra layers, you finally get to the reveal, which renders you speechless.
Nestled neatly amongst more delicate tissue paper, the translucent material almost luminous against the dim glow from the lamplight, is a sex toy. Call it what you want: a penis stroker, a male masturbator, a pocket pussy. There’s absolutely no doubt in your mind what is before you. A fucking fleshlight.
Besides the obvious appearance, the dead giveaway is the user manual included with it, displaying in big, bold print “The Cock Stroker 3000 – New and Improved!”. Lifting the box up to inspect the shipping label, you notice that it says Choso’s name, not yours. If you weren’t so stunned by this unexpected discovery, you’d be giggling at the absurdity of it all. Instead, you’re gawking at the lewd gadget, unsure what to do next.
“Fuck!”
An intense shout from the other side of the wall snaps you out of it. That’s the loudest you’ve ever heard your neighbor, and you can only assume that he has also just realized this unfortunate mix-up. There’s no way the two of you can pretend this isn’t happening. Besides, the last thing you want is for Choso to think you have a bad impression of him after this. Because you don’t, not one bit. It’s perfectly normal for people to have sex toys. In fact, it’s healthy. Even the thought of him using it on himself intrigues you. The hungry expression on his face, tongue lolling out of his mouth, those usually pale cheeks blushing a deep red. The obscene squelch of the wet silicone surrounding his engorged cock, leaking with precum. Closer and closer to the edge, ready to burst any second with your lips near the tip, ready to swallow his load…
You almost curse out loud yourself, ashamed for having such lewd thoughts about your sweet, innocent next-door neighbor. But maybe he’s not as innocent as you think.
Ultimately, you decide the best way to move forward from this is to nip it in the bud. With the opened package in your hands, you walk over to his front door, knocking three times. You hear a faint, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” from within, then hurried footsteps growing louder. Without removing the chain lock, he answers, peering at you through the narrow crack, not saying anything.
Nervous, you greet him with the best smile you can muster. “Hi Choso. I think there was a little mix-up.”
He clears his throat before mumbling a short, “Yeah.”
You glance away from him, staring at the floor, too embarrassed to meet his gaze for this next part. “I opened it without checking the label first. I’m so sorry.”
He shuts the door suddenly, startling you. There’s the distinct rattle of the chain being fiddled with and the door swings open fully, Choso towering over you, a serious expression on his face. He shows you a box, revealing all the office supplies you ordered earlier in the week. Without saying another word, you do the exchange, anticipating that this will be the end of it.
It surprises you when he apologizes quietly, focused on the small space separating you. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” He hides it behind his back, as if doing so will erase the image of it from your memory. “You must think I’m disgusting.”
You shake your head, ignoring the instinct to step closer and comfort him with a hug. The last thing you want to do is cross even more lines tonight. “I don’t, not even the slightest. It’s okay, Choso. This is totally normal and totally fine.”
“You don’t have to say that – ”
“But I mean it! I really do! There’s nothing wrong with it!” Desperate for him to believe you, you confess, “I have sex toys too, plenty of them!”
This time, he actually looks at you with a mixture of intrigue and skepticism. “You don’t have to lie for my sake.”
“I’m not lying!” you urge him.
He retreats inside his apartment, speaking once again through the crack. “I appreciate you trying to make this better, but I think it’s best that we never speak again. Goodnight.”
With that, he shuts the door, leaving you with a lump in your throat, devastated. In your frenzied attempt to fix this, you return to your room, searching your bedside drawer for your favorite vibrator. If words aren’t enough to convince him, then maybe actual proof will. Without taking a moment to reconsider the hole you’re digging yourself deeper and deeper into, you pound on his door, the sex toy clasped in your other hand.
When he answers, you shove it in his face, vindicated that you can prove your point with physical evidence. “See? I told you! I have toys too, so there’s nothing for you to be ashamed about.”
He squints at the vibrator squeezed in your fist as if inspecting it like a foreign object. “That’s it?”
You glare at him, offended by his response. “What do you mean?”
He tilts his head to examine it at another angle. “There’s only one button.”
“One button is all I need,” you argue, defensive about your favorite being criticized. “Sure, it’s small, but that’s what I like about it. It fits comfortably in my hand and with just a single push of the button, I can experience three different levels of intensity. What more do I need?!”
He smirks, amused at your rambling. “I just don’t see how something this simple can be useful, that’s all.” It’s the closest to a smile you’ve seen from him; it has your belly fluttering.
You hold back a laugh. “I bet it packs more of a punch than that Cock Sucker 2000 or whatever.”
“3000,” he corrects, grinning, causing your heart to race. “I haven’t tried it yet, but it’s the best on the market right now.” He hesitates, his next words coming out of his mouth slowly, testing the waters. “Maybe you can show me what your little toy can do. Prove me wrong.”
You never expected this from him, but that’s what makes this exciting. All you can think of in this moment is showing him just how wet you can get. “Fine,” you agree, stepping towards him. “But only if you show me what your little toy can do, too.”
~~~
Never in a million years did Choso predict that this would be the outcome of your bizarre mix-up. You, his next-door neighbor, on his bed, naked from the waist down. Your t-shirt riding up your stomach with your legs split apart, the cute vibrator you love so much pressed to your clit. He kneels in front of you, too transfixed at the erotic sight before him to give attention to the erection strained in his sweatpants.
“You’re next,” you say, glancing at his lap.
He nods, all the confidence he had just a few minutes ago when he initially proposed this idea thrown out the window. Now, he’s back to being his nervous self, afraid to be vulnerable with someone he barely knows.
You set the vibrator beside you, closing your legs. “Are you okay?”
He’s frozen, tempted to call the whole thing off. Go back to being neighbors and nothing more. Go back to being lonely Choso and pathetic Choso, who’s scared of everyone and everything and –
“Hey.” It’s only now he realizes that the two of you are face-to-face, foreheads pressed, noses touching. Your voice is gentle, your palms soft on his cheeks. You smile at him, full of warmth and compassion. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
“It’s been a while since I’ve been with someone,” he admits. “I’m nervous.” A myriad of what-ifs play out in his head. What if he’s bad? What if you don’t like it? What if this ruins whatever sliver of hope the two of you have at being friends? At being anything more?
“We’ll go slow then,” you assure him, brushing your lips to his. That genuine smile of yours is enough to convince him that it’s worth the risk. That, and how fucking good it feels to have your mouth on his. He closes his eyes, leaning into the kiss, relishing the warmth of your breath. He finds himself gradually losing control of his inhibitions, his carnal instincts taking over, hungry for more of you. He slips his tongue inside, swirling around yours, kisses growing frantic and sloppy. You tug at the collar of his shirt, pulling him towards you. His heart pounds in his chest as he roams your body, fingers grazing your perked nipples from outside your top. You whisper his name, so luscious and sweet in your voice. He’d be lying if he said he’s never imagined it before. How you’d sound whimpering from his touch. How you’d feel between his massive hands. How you’d look with his cock filling you up to the brim.
He can’t stand it anymore. He’s aching, begging for release from the confines of his pants. Quickly, he removes them, freeing his throbbing erection. You gasp, marveling at the size of it. “Oh fuck, Choso. You’re so big.”
“Yeah?” he breathes out, fumbling for the Cock Sucker 3000 beside him. He slathers a generous amount of lube on his shaft and inside the toy. Foreheads pressed together once more, you both focus on his lap, watching it sink smoothly down his dick. The coldness of the lube and rubbery flexibility of the silicone surrounding him is familiar, though having someone spectate makes this all the more titillating.
“Fuck,” you swear, amazed at how it covers his entire length. You ogle at him as he starts slowly, eventually increasing to a steady pace. Your pussy flutters, incredibly aroused to see this man pumping his cock in front of you. For you.
“Do it with me.” His gaze flickers to the vibrator beside you. “You should feel good too.”
You spread your legs, displaying your cunt to him, already sopping wet with arousal. His eyes follow your every move as you tease the tip slowly up and down your pussy lips. Finding the right spot on your clit, you place your finger on the button of the toy, bracing yourself for what’s to come. As soon as you press it, the vibrations from level one alone are enough to send you wild. Knees shaking, feet flexing, moans pouring out of your open mouth. He continues to watch you, restraining his grunts as he strokes himself faster. Desperate for more, you click the button twice, increasing the vibrations to the max level. Within seconds, you’re coming, back arched and head thrown into the pillows behind you. Tossing the vibrator aside, you stare up at the ceiling, dizzy and disoriented from your ecstatic high, pussy shiny with your orgasm. Choso’s voice is so faint, you don’t understand him at first. You sit up to face him, waiting for him to repeat himself.
“Can you ride my face?” he asks meekly.
More than willing to accept his request, you nod in response, grinning. His expression relaxes and when you lean nearer to him, palm pressed flat on his chest, he even cracks a smile as he’s lies down on the bed, eager to have you like this. You straddle him, facing away from the headboard while his head rests at the foot of the bed. Carefully, you lower yourself until his mouth is pressed to your pussy. His tongue circles your clit slowly and he releases his grip from his toy to hold onto your ass, squeezing the soft flesh firmly. You don’t take your eyes off each other as you rub yourself across his face, his mouth open, swallowing every drop of you. When you reach your second orgasm, you’re practically bouncing on him as he smothers himself deeper, humming in satisfaction as he sucks hard on your clit, flicking it with his tongue.
You lift yourself off him, spent and completely wrecked. Still, you want to touch him, treat him as well as he treated you, make him come as hard as you did. You position yourself between his thighs, admiring the silicone sleeve hugging his dick. “Your turn.”
Sitting up on his elbows, he watches as you grab hold of the toy, stroking him with it. He moans, tongue hanging of his mouth, drool leaking from the corners of his lips, eyes half-lidded. His moans turn into whimpers when you start cradling his balls with your other hand, his body twitching from the sensation. The tip peeks out from the other end, a thick wad of precum collecting at the slit, so enticing that you’re salivating for a taste.
“Your mouth,” he stammers, barely able to speak.
“What?” you ask breathily, inching closer and closer.
“Want your mouth.” He swallows hard, voice trembling. “Please.”
Excited, you remove the toy from him, in awe at the way his fat cock flops heavily against his abdomen. You take him in your fist, loving how hot and throbbing he is in your grip. He’s coated in lube and precum, so slippery with your fingers wrapped around his girth. Unable to resist any longer, you bow your head, licking the pearl off the tip, savoring the taste. He shudders, letting out a loud, “Fuck!”
It’s so much better than a toy. The wet heat of your mouth surrounding him is better than any masturbator, fleshlight, pocket pussy, whatever silly contraption he uses to get by. The swirl of your tongue gliding along the shaft, the vibrations of your moans as you take him all the way to the back of your throat, the view of your pretty head bobbing up and down his lap. Nothing in his collection compares to this. This is real. You are real.
He fucks your throat, unable to resist bucking his hips against you, timing his thrusts to meet yours. It doesn’t take much longer for him to be pushed over the edge. You pull off for a brief moment to smile at him, pumping him fast. “Come for me, Choso. Come in my mouth.”
At this, he completely loses himself, muffling his incessant moans into his forearm, too shy to watch you guzzle down his entire load until he’s milked of every last drop. You scatter delicate kisses along the entire length of him, even down to his balls. Too sensitive now, he pats you gently on the head, making you look up at him, a warm smile on your face. He smiles back, caressing your cheek, thumb grazing your soft skin. You lie beside him, nuzzling into his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow to a steady, relaxed pace. He slides his arm around you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Thank you.”
This world is a terrifying place for Choso Kamo. But with you in his arms, he feels a bit braver. He’s safe with you.
#choso kamo#choso x reader#choso x you#choso smut#choso fluff#choso kamo smut#choso kamo x reader#choso kamo x you#jjk smut
663 notes
·
View notes
Text
the name of the game


pairing… dodge mason x fem!reader
wc… 2.3k
summary… you don’t talk to strangers— but there’s something different about dodge. was it his charm? his looks? or the way you couldn’t get him off of your mind?
warnings… ends in smut, face riding, drinking (not drunk sex), iconic red cowboy boots, brief pain pleasure, dodge is soooo delusional
josie’s notes! um i kinda don’t remember how panic ended for dodge (i finished it a week ago) so take the beginning plot with a grain of salt
otherwise enjoy my lovelies ❤️
Dodge didn’t have many friends to begin with, but with most of the kids his age out of Cape and attending college, he did feel quite lonely.
He’s not a stranger to the fact that college wasn’t in the cards for him– he had too many responsibilities. He knew his sister could very much take care of herself, but lazy Sunday’s on the couch next to her was where his heart truly belonged.
His mother needed help managing the restaurant, because as much as she prided herself for her hardworking motherhood and independence, he saw the breath of relief she had whenever he was there.
He was perfectly fine as a blue collar working adult. What did he need college for anyway? It was too expensive, especially after the necessary but monetarily disappointing ending to Panic. He was too old to apply now.
Dodge took his time off of working at his bar to nurse the foam of a beer from another in a neighboring town.
Was this really what his future was? He was dangerously nearing a seat in the same boat as the men surrounding him in the ambience of the dive bar: old (21) with a family at home (he was unattached with a sister and a single mother 5 minutes away from his apartment).
Dodge might as well accept it; this was his destiny.
But the glimmer of fate came to him through a vision he wasn’t sure whether he was imagining from the wild dreams in his head or the material of a Playboy magazine.
The mechanical bull sitting in the middle of the recreational space of the bar with a pretty girl attached to its saddle.
Dodge couldn’t tell if you were a saddle bronc rider (like himself) or just intensely familiar with your hips. You rode the mechanical bull like it was a kids bicycle with training wheels.
But with how you grinded against the fur of the mechanical bull with the rhythm it was bucking, he landed on the latter.
It was entrancing to look at, he admitted. The winks you sent into the collecting audience only strengthened his hopes of getting one shot at him.
The mechanics continued to whir and spin you around, pathetic attempts to throw you off of the attraction you were obviously very skilled at riding. Have you been here before? Has he just never noticed you?
How could he never notice you.
Before he knew it, Dodge was leaning against the inflatable rim of the attraction, eyes wide in awe of your performance. One hand gripped the braided rope attached to the nape of the bull’s neck whilst the other waved in the air freely to your girlfriends, who had been screaming your name in the same way Dodge heard it yelled by paparazzi during award shows his sister watched on the weekends through the television.
The moderator of the attraction seemed just as impressed as anyone else watching you, even holding the twinge of suspicion some kept in the quirk of their brow. A crowd eventually formed around your performance, whistling and cheering you on as the meat of your calves squeezed the sides of the bull’s stomach.
Dodge thinks he heard a “yee haw!” come from the intoxicated group of guys (no younger than 30) stuffed in a booth attached to the wall facing your ass.
Bright digits flashed on the screen beside the control booth, announcing the new high score of Big Star Bar. 2 minutes and 36 seconds.
As you unmounted the artificial bull, Dodge didn’t pull his eyes away from you like the rest of the crowd did. You weren’t a one hit wonder, he had to know your secrets. What was a girl with hips like yours doing in a random dive bar in Texas?
Dodge wasn’t sure how to approach you, especially after losing you in the crowd of girls in identical cowboy hats and guys in flannel. He was lucky enough to skin his eyes over the bar and spot your sparkling red boots tapping and gliding against the dingy dance floor.
The boy filed through the crowd until the heat in the air turned from heavy to sweaty dance floor heavy.
Dodge scanned the horseshoe— painted? —on the back of your jean jacket and how it paired with your cowboy boots. It felt like something out of a movie, seeing your outfit.
“This your first rodeo?” he greeted, though from his stance behind your back, he wasn’t surprised by the small jump in your shoulders. But when you turned around, you were just as beautiful up close than you were on that damn bull. Dodge noticed the thick pieces of glitter scattered across your collarbone and how it seemed to match with the other girls in your party.
“Sorry. I don’t talk to strangers,” you shrugged, offering Dodge a friendly smile in apology.
Your gaze didn’t even falter or scan him, just unwaveringly looking him in the eye before you turned around again to chat with your friends.
“Aren’t those the most fun to talk to though?” Dodge tried, and god did it form a pit in his stomach to feel like one of those guys that pushed for a girl's attention— a bad guy.
This got you to turn back around again.
Truthfully, his looks were hard to deny; especially with that ivory colored cowboy hat on his head. Otherwise, he wore a navy tee with a pair of dark jeans and black boots; the simplest thing ever.
One hand was stuffed in the pocket of his jeans, the other tapping its digits against the sweaty glass of a bottle of beer.
“Do you really wanna talk? Grandma taught me that boys like you never want to just talk.”
Dodge couldn’t fight against that, not confidently at least. He knew he didn’t want to just talk, but he also didn’t know what else he’d want to do. Is this what being in limbo felt like?
You gave Dodge the grace of a second before pointing an eyebrow at him and turning again, only this time walking off with your friends to a different corner of the bar.
Dodge was too stubborn to talk growing up, and in this moment— and only this moment —did he curse himself for doing so.
In Cape, everyone was a regular.
It didn’t matter where you went or with whom, you were known better than the alphabet.
When Dodge came into town, he became a regular. In most places, at least.
He knew you weren’t from Cape because you weren’t a regular here. Which is why he was surprised to see the same red heels he’s been dreaming about since the weekend stroll into the establishment he worked in.
You knew what you were doing, of course. You knew about Dodge Mason because Gina knew about Dodge Mason, and she knew about Dodge Mason from her boyfriend Daniel.
That’s how you got here, wasn’t it? But, Dodge didn’t need to know that.
He didn't need to know how your girlfriends teased you for playing hard to get or how you began sweating just from looking into his piercing eyes.
And when those piercing eyes caught the sight of the painted horseshoe on your back, he thought it must be my lucky day.
As you sat at the bar, Dodge couldn’t think of any other way to praise whatever god trailed you in here rather than repeating the same ‘thank you’s in his head.
“Evening, lucky,” he coined the nickname from the symbol. You fought a smile at his wit, instead rolling your tongue along the flesh of your lip.
“I’m sorry, do I know you sir?”
Dodge chortled at your act, but your face stood unwavering. Your tits looked perfect while pressed against the bar, but Dodge managed to pull his eyes a little higher to see the small tick in your neck signaling your so-called ‘confusion’.
You must’ve not liked his silence, because you picked up the silence with a small sigh and your order.
“May I have a shirley temple with just a dash of lime juice, please?” you batted your eyelashes at the unconvinced boy, being met with the playful roll of his eyes.
Despite himself, Dodge began to concoct your beverage. You were strange, he thought. Where did you come from? Were you visiting? Would he see you again if nothing came from this conversation? How would he be sure?
He had to make sure this one counted, not like that pathetic excuse of conversation at the bar. The clicking of your nails rippling against the waxed bar behind his back mimicked the ticking clock– he might as well shoot a shot. Perhaps it was an easy target, especially with his luck sprawled against your back.
“Did your grandma also teach you these manners?” Dodge planted the highball in front of your impatient hands. You took a look at the glass, then him, then to the glass again, where your eyes stayed as you tasted the drink. The sugar spreads across your tongue, satisfying its parched state.
“I still don’t talk to strangers,” you said, but the smirk that played on your face told Dodge something different. Your game wouldn’t fool him, not when you drop it just as limp as that. Did you want him like he wanted you?
You two weren’t strangers, no, he knew you were meant for something more.
“So you admit to it,” he turned his head from the focus on your drink, only to catch your face hot with guilt. He chuckled to himself at your game.
“We ain’t strangers. This is our second meeting, perhaps fate is sending a message?” God, when did Dodge Mason become so sappy? He was grasping at the ends of a rope he wasn’t sure you were on the other end of.
But then you smiled. You smiled and twirled the skinny black straw around the ice of your drink. “And what message would that be?” you challenged.
Dodge leaned his elbows on the dark oak of the bar. He wet his lips with the tip of his tongue before his proposal, or rather, ‘the message’. “You should come home with me tonight.” He kept it at that; simple and charming.
You giggled like a schoolgirl at his confidence. By the looks of it, he had been a lustful young adult, admittedly like you, with maybe a studio apartment. Your mind could only think of one thing he planned to do if you accepted the invitation, and you knew it wasn’t puzzles and lemonade.
Were you opposed? Not entirely.
“And what would this night entail? What do I get from entering your home? You gon’ drive me home after?” You matched his stance, leaning forward on the folded elbows you stuck to the waxy countertop. Dodge felt a stream of intimidation flow through his veins at the way you pointed your eyebrow at him.
“Might have to come to find out,” he replied, swiping his tongue over the toothpick that hung from his mouth. You couldn’t restrain your eyes from flickering down to the pair of lips.
You were sure the sharp metal of his handle left a burning mark when he pushed you against it in the barren hallway of his apartment building. But with the incessant kissing of his lips distracting your mouth– and eventually everything else –it didn’t matter much to you anymore.
Your frame had been stripped of all fabric, laying in addition to his in the ratty hamper dejected in the corner of his room. Soon enough, he was insisting on a third round to cure the burdens of his barren tongue.
“Wanna see how you ride up close, baby,” he reasoned through a hushed tone, kissing the clammy skin of your temple.
How could you refuse? Especially when his hands began to rub those soothing circles into your hips and the tip of his tongue licked the shell of your ear during the whisper.
When he was prodding his tongue into your entrance a few minutes later, you knew it was the right decision to follow him out of the door. With your tits bouncing underneath the warm light thrusting through the ceiling of the sauna he called his room, Dodge took it upon himself to bruise your skin of this (rather heated) interaction through two large grips of his hands on your ass whilst you fucked his face.
Dodge’s curious tongue soon turned into a hungry one, accompanied by the brief scraping of his teeth against the puffy lips of your pussy. The small bumping of his skull against the wooden headboard spurred him on rather than slowed him down, and you hoped the string of moans and mewls coming from your mouth were enough gratitude to satisfy his desires.
Due to popular demand– a loose request that fell in pieces from Dodge’s dumbstruck position underneath you –you wore his cowboy hat, glaze sticking from your hairline onto the weaved material. Dodge didn’t mind, in fact, he reveled in the thought of that same sweat mixing with his own during a rodeo. Dripping down his face just like how the sudden flood of your sweet juices were coating the stubble on his chin and the point of his nose.
Dodge lived up to his word the morning after, tapping the ends of his fingers against the leather of the steering wheel to the tune of Bruce Springsteen’s voice singing “Glory Days” from the beaten up radio of Dodge’s Cadillac. Summers' heat wavered through the air of Cape even when Dodge drove past the speed limit on a lonely road.
When you arrived at the doorstep of your grandmother's house, Dodge didn’t worry about the possibility of seeing you again, only admiring the way you swayed your hips and clicked your heels against the pavement during your strut. The corners of his lips pulled up into something that was not quite a smirk.
He liked how your game was turning out.
traumatrios, 2024
divider by @saradika-graphics !
847 notes
·
View notes
Text
Jen Cheverie: "After almost 14 years at BioWare, I am devastated to learn today that myself and others must seek new opportunities. I am so grateful for all of the learning, challenges, and most importantly the team. I will remember my time here with joy. Tomorrow we'll move forward. For today I will just be sad." [source] Ryan Cormier: "So, my time at BioWare has ended. It was a wild ride with some fantastic people, but it’s time to look for new challenges. I’m an Editor / Writer with 26+ years of experience across video games, novels, short stories, newspapers, and marketing comms. If you know of a good fit, please let me know." [source] Michelle Flamm: "So yeah if you need a Systems Designer with 10+ years of experience please let me know. I'm looking for Remote or Seattle Area, Full Time (ideally) but, can do contract." [source] Trick Weekes: "I'm now looking for a new writing/narrative position. It's been a privilege to work with so many amazing devs over my 20 years at BioWare, and I will cherish the memories of the wonderful folks in the community I've met along the way. Thank you all." [source] Karin West-Weekes: "Hello! I’m looking for work, ideally in an editor role. It’s been an honor to work with so many talented professionals, and a pleasure to meet so many amazing community members, in my 19 years at BioWare. I’m so grateful to all of you." [source]
#(to signal boost)#signal boost#dragon age: the veilguard#dragon age: dreadwolf#dragon age 4#the dread wolf rises#da4#dragon age#bioware#video games#long post#longpost
206 notes
·
View notes
Text
Spellbound Part 2
Squeeee!!! I am absolutely loving the response for this story! This story is going to be a wild ride and I cannot wait for you guys to go on this journey with me!!
In this one we have some backstory and little bit of world building.
Part 1
~
Eddie was not home when Steve arrived at the Munson’s door laden with his goodies. Wayne opened the door and shook his head at the bread and jam.
“You spoil me, Steve,” he said gruffly, taking the basket from him. “Surely that favor I did for you has been repaid by now.”
Steve stepped into the small and homily cottage, shaking his head. “What you did was invaluable. I wouldn’t have been able to setup shop in this town if it wasn’t for you.”
Wayne smiled back and went to go cut the bread. He came back with a plate full of the slices and the tea kettle. He poured them tea and sat down to dig into the raspberry jam.
“You do know the crux of the problem between you and my nephew, right?” Wayne asked after their second cup of tea.
Steve huffed out a laugh. “Yes, my ‘go away and don’t come back’ spell I place on every charm I make.” He cocked his head to side. “Except the love ones.”
“Did I ever tell you, Eddie’s mama was a witch?” he asked after polishing off the last of the jam and bread.
Steve furrowed his brow. “You hadn’t, actually. Make it makes sense with the packet of medicine you asked me to replicate. I hope I’m not in her place. That would be really bad.”
Wayne chuckled. “No, you’re not in her place. She lived in a large city not far from here. His father dropped Eddie off on my doorstep merely a week after the funeral and he’s been here ever since.”
Steve looked around at the dark paint job that filled the interior as it had the outside of the cottage. “Was it always like this? Goth, I guess.”
“Mostly,” Wayne said. “The house always had a black roof, but when Eddie moved in, painting the rest of it gave him something to do rather than focus on his mother’s death.”
“I could give him some herbs to help with the sorrow,” Steve said, draining the last of his tea. “I wouldn’t charge. It can be hard to lose a parent so young and then to have the other abandon him so soon after.”
“That’s kind of you,” Wayne said, “but he’s fine now. He was just expecting a much quieter life then people always knocking on our door.”
Steve blushed. “I wish I could help with that, but as my latest customer pointed out, I don’t look ‘the part’, so they completely miss the huge sign in front.”
“I’ve been wondering,” Wayne asked as he cleared the table, “do people who’ve been spelled not be able to return see the sign?”
“Oh yeah,” Steve said with a chuckle. “Only it says: If you’re reading this, that means I’ve given you all I can. GO AWAY!”
Wayne burst out laughing. “Good on you, Steve. I’m sorry it’s caused such a mess for both you and us. He’ll come around once he’s use to it.”
Steve shook his head. He doubted that Eddie would ever. But he appreciated the sentiment. He got up to leave, taking his basket with him.
“Don’t be a stranger,” Wayne huffed. “Stop by anytime and not just to drop off my medicine.”
“Tell that to your nephew,” he said with a weary smile. “See you around, Wayne. Take better care of those bones and do those exercises I told you about.” And then he was gone.
Wayne shook his head. Then a head peeked in through the back door.
“Is he gone?” Eddie asked in a harsh whisper.
Wayne turned around and rolled his eyes. “Yes, scaredy-cat. The big, bad, evil witch is gone now.”
Eddie slipped into the cottage and sat down next to Wayne with a sigh. “It’s so annoying. There has got to be a trick because there is no way he is just vanishing. And one day I will catch him at it.”
“Your mother was an actual witch,” Wayne huffed, standing up to wash the tea things. “I still don’t understand how you don’t believe in magic.”
Eddie pulled out a necklace that held a little doll with a lock of dark, curly hair and bit of cloth. “This is why. She told me I find my true love and that they would love me for me all the rest of my days. Then I found out I only like boys and knew it to be some fucking pipe dream. Magic isn’t real, old man. The herbs he gives are just an herbal remedy. There’s no power in that powder.”
Wayne let out a sigh and turned around to lean against the counter top. “I think it’s time I show you something.”
He went over to the trunk in the corner that was never opened and pulled out a key on a chair around his neck. He gently removed the key and used to open the trunk. He rummaged around for a moment and then came back to the table with a photo album and a small doll, very much like Eddie’s own.
“When you’re mama was an apprentice witch she loved making love charms,” he said softly. “It was her favorite thing. She would make charms for anyone who would sit down long enough for her to snip a bit of their hair and clothing.”
Eddie snorted. “Fat lot of good it did her. Dad was a piece of shit.”
Wayne tilted his head to the side. “Your daddy loved your mama. He just wasn’t good at anything else. And that included fatherhood. But she made me one a couple of years after she had you. Said she had a good feeling about this one.” He opened the photo album and flipped through the pages. He landed on a specific page and turned it around to face Eddie.
There beaming up at Eddie in sepia was his uncle, Wayne standing next to another bright young man at what appeared to be their wedding. They were both in tuxes and holding the knife to cut the cake. A cake that had two men as toppers.
“You were married to a man?” Eddie asked frowning up at his uncle in confusion. “How come you never talk about him?”
“His name as Benjamin Hammond and he was the love of my life,” Wayne said, choked up. He ran his fingers over the picture, tracing the lines of the man’s face. “But about a year before your mama died, Benny got real sick. He was a large man, but before he took his own life, he had almost completely wasted away to nothing. Doctors couldn’t find anything wrong and the medicines your mama gave him on eased his physical pain and not the torment of his own mind.”
“Shit,” Eddie hissed. “I’m not sure I would have wanted to talk about my true love if he had gone out that way.”
“During that year before your mama got sick,” Wayne continued, fighting back tears, “I blamed her for bringing Benny into my life if love hurt that much to lose.”
“So what changed?” Eddie asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“She got sick and your daddy gave me you,” Wayne said with a smile. “Made me realize that there was more to life than just your true love. That sometimes the love that sticks around in the one that needs you the most.”
Eddie blushed, shoving his hair in front of his face. “Not really a ringing endorsement of true love.”
“I guess not,” Wayne huffed with a small, fragile smile. “But it’s one for magic though. Because I’ll bet every tile on this roof that your mama used her magic to ensure that you would land somewhere safe, instead of being dragged around God knows where with your daddy.”
Eddie pushed the photo album back to Wayne. “Thanks for telling me. I guess there really is magic in this world, if it brought me to you.”
“Damn right,” Wayne huffed. “Now go wash up and help me make dinner.” He got up and put the album and the doll away.
“How are you still hungry?” Eddie pouted. “You and Steve finished an entire loaf of bread, a jar of jam, and a pot of tea between the two of you.”
Wayne burst out laughing. “Boy, I don’t eat all that, Steve does! Being magical burns up a lot of calories and if he doesn’t eat he can pass out. He brings it over to share so he can honestly tell Robin that he didn’t eat the whole thing.”
Eddie snorted but did as he was told. He helped Wayne peel the potatoes and carrots for a soup that Wayne was going to get started. He pulled a couple of chicken breasts from the ice box. They moved in unison and in no time at all, the soup was bubbling away on the fire.
“What would you say if I said I wanted to strike out on my own?” Eddie murmured, grabbing the broom to sweep out the cottage for something to do with his hands while he talked about an uncomfortable topic.
“Did you want to?” Wayne asked, leaning on the counter with hand on his hip. “I’ll miss the hell out of you, but if that’s truly what you want, you can do as you wish. You’re an adult.”
Eddie stared at the floor for a moment and then pulled out of his vest pocket a letter. “This came today.”
Wayne took it slowly and read even slower. “You striking out on your own or are you falling for the siren song of your daddy?”
Eddie flushed and began sweeping again. “I swear I’m three minds about it at any given moment. One the one hand, he is my father and I want to see him. On another hand, he left me and I’m still angry about that and worry I’ll hit him if I see his face. And that I should steer clear of him.”
“And the third hand?” Wayne prodded gently, handing the letter back to him.
“That I should just strike out on my own,” he said softly. “But pick a direction he ain’t and just find myself out there.”
Wayne nodded. “It’s up to you, but you have to know, you’re father isn’t sincere. I got my own letter from him a week ago asking for money. I don’t have it to give. I do trades to put food on this table and whatever little money I do get it goes back into this cottage.”
Eddie’s lower lip quivered and he nodded back. He finished the sweeping, brushing out of the backdoor.
“I’m going to my room,” he murmured. “Call me when dinner is ready.”
“Of course, Eddie,” he said. “Just know that whatever you chose, I’ll support you the best that I can.”
Eddie nodded and slunk off to his room and closed the door. A few moments later music could be heard coming from the room, the melancholy sounds of his boy’s guitar.
~
One of the best children Steve had as erran runners was Maxine. She preferred Max, but only where her mother couldn’t hear it said. She was a rough and tumble girl who would run around in trousers if her mother would let her.
Susan, her mother had recently remarried to the town’s carpenter and moved in with them. Neil Hargrove and his son and apprentice, Billy were also the town drunks and bullies. They were also damn fine carpenters and the town tolerated them as such.
It was inevitable that Max would come to him for his help. Her request made him chuckle though.
“I just want something to mellow their mood,” she huffed. “I’m not looking for a charm or whatever. I just need them to chill out so that I’m not walking on eggshells all the time.”
“Of course,” Steve said in all seriousness. “I’ll brew you up a tea that you can give everyone and it will improve the mood all around.”
She sighed in relief. “Thank goodness, I would hate to have to stop coming here. It’s my safe space.”
Steve chuckled and got to work. Max watched in interest as he mixed both dry and fresh in equal measure and then set it to side to completely dry out. Then he started on something else. And even though she could see him clearly, his movements seemed covered in a kind of fog.
Once he was done he pulled out a loaf of bread and some cheese and ate about half of each.
She raised her eyebrows, that meant he had used magic. And a lot of it, if how much he ate was any indication.
He put the now dried powder into severally light blue packets. “One packet is enough for an entire pot of tea. I’ve given you about a month’s supply.” He put it in a small basket for her and then handed her the basket. He didn’t mind giving them away. Robin made them in her spare time as something to while away the hours.
And then he handed her a black packet. “No one will be able to see this packet but you. And even then only when you intend to use it. You know the tea will only make your stepfather and brother biddable for so long. And when the time comes that it is clear nothing will change them, use this.”
She looked up at him in confusion. “I didn’t ask for this.”
Steve chuckled at her response. Not what it was, but that she didn’t ask for it. “No, but one day you will fear for your life and you will need it.”
She took the packet from him with a frown. “What does it do?”
“It is the final solution,” he said gravely. “But know this, even if you use and you can no one longer see my house, I will come visit you every day. I will never abandon you. Not ever.”
“Will people know I used it?”
He shook his head. “No. Nor will you ever feel guilt about doing so.”
Max nodded and took the packet and put in it the basket. “Will you know when I’ve used it?”
Steve gave her a huge hug. “Yes, I will come the instant that I feel it, okay?”
She hugged back fiercely and then went on her way.
Circe cawed and landed on his shoulder. He stroked her feathers. “I’ll be all right and so will she. It is just the way of the witch that such things are necessary.”
Circe cawed again and then took off out the window, following Max home to make sure she got there safely.
~
Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
Tag List: CLOSED
1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs
2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @cryptid-system @kultiras
3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog
4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006
5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate
6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman
7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth
8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss
9- @wheneverfeasible @micheledawn1975 @gloomysoup @dotdot-wierdlife @themoonagainstmers
226 notes
·
View notes
Text









always wanted to post some australia photos so here they are before the year is coming to an end.
in order:
Mundi Mundi Lookout - Silverton, NSW
Hannans North Tourist Mine - Kalgoorlie-Boulder, WA
Tom's Opal Mine - Coober Pedy, SA
Karlkurla Bushland Park - Kalgoorlie-Boulder, WA
Kanku Breakaways - near Coober Pedy, SA
Rawnsley Bluff - Ikara-Flinders Ranges, SA
Echo Point - Blue Mountains, Katoomba, NSW
Head of Bight - Nullarbor Plain, Yalata, SA
Grand Canyon - Blue Mountains, Blackheath, NSW
also a little life update to anyone who's interested:
2024 has been a wild ride all around, and i feel a bit bad when i say that for me personally it had been a blast (except for today and this weekend: first my toilet flusher started being defect (ah yes, getting a mechanic the week before the holidays in germany, why would there be a problem), then a chunk of my phone screen stopped being touch sensitive, then half of my laptop's keyboard stopped working... and when i dared to ask what will break next... i landed a tremendous fall on my way to work today, with my bike and sudden glazed ice on the road, breaking my drawing elbow 👍).
BUT OTHER THAN THAT 2024 has been great in my books.
got laid off at work in march, which gave me the opportunity to do a roadtrip through australia, sth i would have never dreamed of doing on my own, of becoming true. this trip was life-changing y'all. it has altered my brain chemistry.
then i got back at work on part-time basis and holy shit, that was great. sadly i'm involved full-time again but this also made sth click in my head. and it gave me sth back that i've thought having lost last year: my will to draw. this sounds so overdramatic but some may remember my crisis in 2023 because i couldn't shake the thought of my drawing days being over due to work and life being so overwhelming? thank you so much again to each and everyone who left messages back then, it still means a lot, they really helped me to stay grounded during that time. but i'm also here to tell past-me "bitch! you thought you would never find fun and purpose in drawing again? think again!"
this also gave me the courage to apply for tabling again, something that i've long pushed away to the back of my mind bc i never felt confident enough. and what can i say, a friend of mine and me are gonna have a booth next year at leipzig bookfair <3
honourable mentions before it's getting too long: friends got the cutest new dog baby, iceland roadtrip with seeing polar lights for the first time, heidelberg zine fair with lots of crunch time beforehand but this also unlocked sth new in my brain, making zines is so much fun, lots of time again with friends and then... the last issue of the tf2 comic *bless.
thank you to everyone here who i met along the way, who interacts with my art and leaves incredible comments and tags, i love this site so much and its community, you all are wonderful people and i'm really happy that we all share this platform.
i'm wishing everyone who celebrates some nice holidays <333
247 notes
·
View notes
Text
spencer reid
masterlist • criminal minds • 11/19/24
˚‧⁺ ・ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs

𑣲 blurb I deactivated account
𑣲 easy fix I @judeswhore
after spending weeks searching for ways to ease the burden of his headaches, spencer has finally found a solution. you.
𑣲 heartbeat I @theonewiththefanfics
For seven months Y/N, the newest team member of the BAU, has been missing, kidnapped by an unsub they were hunting. But when the search comes to an end, Spencer doesn’t know how to feel.
𑣲 i can see you I @januaryembrs
Spencer may or may not have a little thing for the desk jockey on the floor below, and she may or may not have a thing for their silent elevator rides together.
𑣲 black cat girlfriend I @/januaryembrs
the team meet Spencer's new girlfriend and she doesn't look quite like they'd imagined.
𑣲 fugitive affections I @/januaryembrs
𑣲 clueless I @/januaryembrs
Spencer's got a crush, too bad you're entirely clueless to his dilemma
𑣲 practice run I @rreids
going on a platonic date with spencer (for him to know what it's like) that becomes very real.
𑣲 and then there were two I @sweetestspence
the bau recruits a new agent whose credentials arguably match their very own boy wonder’s.
𑣲 hearts pt2 I @violetrainbow412-blog
an intern pesters Spencer to get his attention and you help him get rid of it a bit, benefiting in the process.
𑣲 bolinus brandaris pt2 I @/violetrainbow412-blog
Reid loves the gift you just gave him and the whole team can notice.
𑣲 request I @reiderwriter
𑣲 don’t think i don’t like you I @luveline
Spencer calls you drunk and in need of rescue. You confess a few secrets to him while he won’t remember them (or so you think)
𑣲 bombshell!reader I @/luveline
𑣲 married!reader I @/luveline
𑣲 bombshell!reader I @/luveline
𑣲 shy!reader I @/luveline
𑣲 bombshell!reader I @/luveline
𑣲 bombshell!reader I @/luveline
𑣲 roommate!reader I @/luveline
𑣲 roommate!reader I @/luveline
𑣲 bombshell!reader I @/luveline
𑣲 badass!reader I @/luveline
𑣲 roommate!reader I @/luveline
𑣲 bombshell!reader I @/luveline
𑣲 spencer’s oldest wanting to help I @/luveline
𑣲 mom!reader I @/luveline
𑣲 post!prision x shy!reader I @/luveline
𑣲 hotch!sister I @/luveline
𑣲 visitors list I @tlou-reid
when spencer goes to prison, his visitor's list seems to be missing a name.
𑣲 please don’t have somebody waiting on you I @cerisereids
spencer reid is your best friend. you’re in love with him, he wants someone else.
𑣲 safe I @rynbutt
You were pregnant but JJ had just left the team and they needed you. You hadn't told anyone; you hadn't even told Spencer.
𑣲 take my breath away I @atlabeth
you help spencer train for his fitness exam. he kind of just wants to kiss you.
𑣲 pretty boy I @/atlabeth
spencer walks in one day with a new look. you handle it pretty well.
𑣲 table thief I @/atlabeth
spencer's routine, thoughts, and plans are thrown off by a girl he meets at his favorite cafe --- not necessarily in that order.
𑣲 adorkable I @reidsdaisies
spencer just looks too irresistible in those damned short-shorts.
𑣲 you already said yes I @dr-spencer-reids-queen
Spencer comes home to find your wedding ring on his office desk, and his thoughts run wild.
𑣲 24 hours I @radiant-reid
a blurb where he actually gets mad at JJ when she confesses to love him but doesn't really say anything at the moment. But then when he introduces reader to the team as his girlfriend, JJ is being kinda rude to her. She tries to tell him she doesn't like her, that she's not good for him. And spencer gets mad and protective
𑣲 first I @buckysbabygorl
Spencer eats you out for the first time
𑣲 coincidences I @sinfulspencer
Spencer has been spending quite some time at the local supermarket because someone has captured his attention. Or where Spencer meets you many times in the aisle of the supermarket and decides to make a move on you when you need help.
𑣲 their vast empty space I @literaila
𑣲 three letters I @sunshineandspencer
Garcia is tired of Spencer being single, and if the only way to fix that is to sign him up for a singles pen-pal society, then so be it. While she’s at it, let her add their other co-worker as well, there’s no way that could have any impact.
𑣲 mirror, mirror I @none-of-your-bullshit
keeping your relationship with Spencer a secret proves to be a little difficult when you are working with profilers.
𑣲 you have a girlfriend? I @galaxy-siren
Garcia has been trying to set Spencer up, but he's been keeping a secret from the team...he has a girlfriend.
𑣲 as cool as i think i am I @easy-there-leftovers
The 5 times Spencer tries to be cool, and the 1 time he doesn't care.
𑣲 surprise surprise I @benevolentbones
𑣲 for the fear of falling apart I @pathologicalreid
after hearing her gunpoint confession, your sister pressures you into airing your grievances at Rossi's wedding
𑣲 puzzling I @/pathologicalreid
trying to tell Spencer you're pregnant, but he's too concerned with your well-being to fill out your custom crossword puzzle
𑣲 cryptic I @/pathologicalreid
You and Spencer get a surprise beyond your wildest dreams.
𑣲 hallucinate I @gghostwriter
They are friends, but Spencer is in love with her. Spencer gets in one accident and thinks she is more than a friend. He believes she is his wife.
𑣲 you're the risk, i'll take it I @/gghostwriter
The three times Spencer followed advice and the one time he didn't (or as I'd like to better explain it, the three times Spencer fails to flirt and the one time it worked)
𑣲 it's golden, like daylight I @dudeitiskarev
Out of panic, you introduce Spencer as your boyfriend to your life-long situationship. Next thing you know, Spencer is your plus one at your friend’s wedding. There, the pieces start to fall right into place.
𑣲 won't see me again I @mindfullycriminal
Reader comes to pick up her father for his scheduled half day off. When it becomes apparent he forgot, the team sees what might be the end of your relationship. For some reason, Spencer is particularly bothered by this.
𑣲 I'm you fluffer I @reiderwriter
𑣲 opposites attract I @reidmania
spencer would give the world to be your person, even after you argue that you two are too different.

#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid angst#spencer reid smut#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid blurb#mgg
710 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi this is my first ever request lol, so I uh was wondering if you could write a soap x reader little red riding hood. It could be some cute fluff or I guess even smutty depending on how you'd want to depict it. Sorry if it's a rather blank request, I'm very bland when it comes to writing and such (>_<)
Hi love! Thank you so much for the request, I hope I met your expectations 🩷
It did turn really smutty though, so I hope you don't mind 🩷
Smut | 1818 words | Back to Masterlist
W: Werewolf!Soap x Little Red Riding Hood!Reader (inspired at least), smut, defined breeding kink must it's mostly a werewolf thing, biting, mentions of pregnancy (is the breeding kink warm up, you know), knoting.
You were used to being the one taking your grandma her food, making sure she still ate the produce she couldn't acquire in her house deep into the forest.
So every other week, you would do your little journey. It didn't take long, you'll get to her house before lunch time and you chose to stay the day with her before making your way back.
You already knew the path like the back of your hand, always on time and never getting lost.
There is also Johnny, a friendly neighbour who on many occasions chooses to walk along with you. The chat is nice, makes the walk more entertaining even when you go the different route that Johnny showed you; just because it is longer and that way you can talk for longer.
You obviously didn't trust him at first, a grown man in the middle of the forest sounds terrifying on its own. And you need to add to that the fact that Johnny is built like a brick house.
“I could have you for dinner.” He joked once when you asked him what did he ate to be so big. A silly joke.
The fear of the big man following you in the forest, quickly turned into the big man walking with you. And the little fear you had of the wild dissipated the closer he walked with you.
Especially, when during the spring rumours started flying around about a massive wolf living in the forest. Apparently a huge striped dog has been seen walking on the forest line for a couple of weeks now, always looking into the town but never quite entering.
The dog, big enough to be the size of a grown man on his hinged legs, eyes that reflect the light of the fire and teeth to rip the flesh off the bone.
Your grandma moved out of her house, moving inside town to be away from the animal. Still, you couldn't sleep at night knowing Johnny was out there.
With your grandma living in your house, you didn't have an excuse to walk in the forest. But still, on a freezing morning in the middle of spring you found yourself walking inside the forest wishing you could come across Johnny quickly and be back home.
What you come across instead, is a growling behind you. So deep you feel it shaking your bones before you can see it. You only need to see the outline of the monster before you are sprinting for your life, it is a stupid decision and you know it. It immediately triggers the beast to follow you.
The path to your grandma's house has never been so long and you don't even make half way through before you fall, tripping on your own feet. You turn around, looking for the dog which seems to have evaporated into thin air.
A warm hand on your back makes you jump, turning around and coming face to face with Johnny, a pained expression on his face. You jump into his arms, a groan into your ear as he hugs you back, a bit too hard.
You peel back when he cups your face. “You shouldn't be here, bonnie.” He says, looking in pain, making every alarm bell ring on your head.
You pat his body, looking for any injury and hearing him groan whenever your hand touches his body. “Are you in pain? Did it attack you? Are you fine?” You ask frantically.
“Lass!” He grunts, making you look into his eyes, dark when you lay your eyes on his. “You need to get back! Get away from me!”
“But why?” You ask, hurt with the rejection. “I came here just for you, Johnny…”
He groans, looking away from your face as he licks his lips. He sighs, resting his forehead against yours. “You need to go back because every part of my body is screaming at me to eat you whole, bonnie.”
“You can.” It comes out before you can register it, you are not a stranger to your own feelings for the man in front of you. The weekly walks, your hand on his arm, his hand on your back, the soft pecks on your cheek when saying goodbye. It quickly had you getting home warm on the face and your tummy.
The man groans again, closing his eyes, as if your words hurt him. “You don't know what you are saying-”
“I do! I do know!” You argue, cutting him off and sitting up closer to him but his arms pull you back. He looks down on you, searching for any doubt in your face. Anything that could silence the hungry voice in his brain, but when the only thing he can find is the same hunger in yours he laps forward, crushing his lips on yours.
He is not gentle by any means, his wide hands roam your body pulling you closer, grabbing your body, winking his nails into your flush meat, biting your lips, growling on your mouth. His hands scrunch up your dress, ripping the bloomers under it making you gasp at the feeling of the cold air on your core.
“I can fucking smell you, bonnie. And it's driving me mad. You have been driving me mad for months.” He grunts against your mouth, grabbing your hips to sit you on top of his.
You whine at his words. “I want to feel you, Johnny. I want to feel you here.” You say, grabbing one of his hands to place it on top of your crying cunt.
Johnny takes a deep breath, regulating himself, before he sinks two of his fingers inside of you; the stretch making you mewl against Johnny's neck, moaning softly as he starts to move his wrist.
You can feel him grind his hips against your, the material of his trousers rubbing against your exposed clit making you whine and he quickly shushes you kissing your temple as his fingers open you up for him.
“I can't wait to sink into you, my sweet bonnie.” He groans at you, making you clench at the sound.
He pulls his fingers out, bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean, closing his eyes as he hums at the taste. His pupils impossibly wide when he opens them again, the blue on his eyes barely visible.
He helps you onto your hand and knees, standing behind you as he licks your neck from behind, his tip probing at your entrance. You don't have a chance to peek at his shaft, so you don't expect the wide stretch that just simply seems to never end.
Never in your life has you felt this full, the stretch of his fingers far from enough and it has you falling face first with his hands on your hips.
He grunts when he bottoms out inside of you, bending down to lick the tears on your cheeks. “Shh, bonnie lass. You are taking me so well, I could live right here. So tight, so warm, so wet “ he moans, pulling his hips slightly back making you whine as you clench down making him grunt.
It's too much, it is reaching places you were not aware existed; his wide hands on your hips keeping you in place, it has your brain mushy barely able to put your hands under your face to prevent yourself from eating dirt.
His thrust starts to get deeper, slowly pulling out until only his tip is inside just to push in again just as deliciously slow as the first one. It is torturous how slow he fills you up, the empty feeling when he pulls back making you whine and move your hips back.
He pulls himself back, not wanting to give in to his instincts just yet, needing to know you are ready. The way your cunts sucks him in whenever he pulls back making him grunt; he hears you moan his name, asking for more, and that is everything he needs to hear.
He bends down, hugging your middle as he shoves his face on your neck, keeping you in place to be able to piston his dick in and out of your weeping cunt as fast as his hips allow him.
It pulls the breath out of your lungs, only able to moan loud like a whore as the man on your back fucks you like a bitch in heat.
His arms are tight around your body, his grunts and groans loud on your ear and when his hand moves lower, right over your clit rubbing it, is like pushing the button to have you coming undone.
You cry out his name, eyes rolling back as you do, your cunt pulsing around his cock making him fuck you faster.
You don't have time to come back down, not stopping pleasure waving over you. Filth being talked into your brain. “I'm gonna fuck you full of my pups, love. Gonna keep you forever, full of me, love. Gonna make you a mama, round and plush.” He groans, his brain empty of any sense and only listening to his instincts of breeding, the spring making him completely lose his ability to think clearly.
Another round of stretch has you whining softly, you are already to the brim what is it now? You cry at the feeling, Johnny mouth opening over the junction of your neck and shoulder.
His thrust became sloppy, more shallow as if he couldn't move as freely. He bites down hard on your shoulder, making you whine at the pain but the way you clench down on his length as he grunting as he comes inside of you, his hips flush with yours.
You moan at the feeling, warmth feeling every bit of your inside. But after a while you try to pull, wanting to lay down. Just for a stinging sensation to make you cry and Johnny to grab your hips to prevent you from moving.
“Let's stay like this for a little, bonnie. We stuck.” He groans, as if it makes perfect sense.
“What?” You ask confused.
“Shh, I'll explain it to you later, love.” He says, licking your neck like a dog and caressing your body.
And you want to argue, to understand what he means, to understand what is inside of you opening you so widely, to understand why he was talking about pups, to understand why he bite your shoulder so hard, to understand why the wolf following you suddenly disappeared when he appeared, to understand why he told you to go away, to understand how he found you so easily.
But your eyelids start to weigh tons when Johnny hums behind you, kissing your neck. Plus, the spring is barely starting and Johnny's den is close by. He'll explain later, when his brain stops screaming at him to keep breeding you.
#lovi writes 🩷#call of duty#cod x reader#cod#john soap mactavish#cod smut#call of duty x reader#cod modern warfare#soap x reader#call of duty modern warfare#cod mwii#soap#john mactavish x reader#john mactavish imagine#john mactavish smut#john mactavish#soap smut#soap imagine#soap call of duty#soap cod
591 notes
·
View notes
Text
The audio description of the carriage scene, Bridgerton s3 ep 4
No one asked lol but here is the audio description of the best scene in television carriage scene from episode 4. I LOVE the description so much; it just adds a little extra layer to the scene, especially what's going on in Colin's head and the interactions during the intimate moments.
"What if I did have feelings for you?" "What?" He fixes her with a desperate stare. He drops to his knees in front of her. [...] "It is everything I have wanted to say to you...for weeks." 'But...Colin, we are friends." "Yes, but we..." He searches her face with wild shining eyes. [...] "But I'd very much like to be more than friends. So much more." He leans in close, bringing his face to hers. They share a scorching kiss. He wraps his arm around her waist. They separate for a brief moment, then share several deep, slow kisses. She runs her hands up to his face and down his chest. They pause, regarding each other in wonder. She brushes her fingers over the curves of his ear and rakes her hand through his hair. His open mouth curves upward in an ardent smile. He presses his lips to hers, flattening her against the back of her seat. His hands (ride?) up her skirt, coming to rest at her hips. She grips his lapel as they kiss fervently. He pulls back and slowly slips one of her puffed sleeves down along the creamy skin of her shoulder. He brushes his lips over her throat, and the yielding flesh below. He skims his hand down and squeezes her lush breast through her sparkling bodice. She rests her hand on his, looking down with her pink lips parted. His hand slowly slides down to her thigh. She finds his mouth with hers. He pulls back. They lock eyes, heaving. He looks down. He gently lifts the hem of her dress to palm the smooth curve of her calf. He meets her pleading eyes. She nods. He gathers the sparkling fabric in his fist. He softens his fingers as he slips them past her knee and beneath the folds of her skirts. They keep their eyes fixed on each other. Her mouth drops open. Her eyes widen, then drift closed. She clutches him convulsively. He watches her flushed face. Their open mouths meet. He catches her lip between his. She arches her neck and pulls him close. Her lips find his. They share several long, smoldering kisses.
And the very last line got me.
"For God's sake, Penelope Featherington, are you going to marry me or not?" Penelope's bosom swells. A smile blooms on her face.
UGH it's so beautiful. I know it's not ao3 standard, but it just really heightens the tension and intimacy of the scene. Can't wait to see the mirror scene next.
Does anyone have stats on how many times the carriage scene has been rewatched lmao
#bridgerton#polin#bridgerton season 3#bridgerton s3#penelope featherington#colin bridgerton#carriage scene#colin x penelope#bridgerton spoilers
505 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stairs or Brooms?
10:45am By Y/N
Good morning Students of Eden!
The last week has been hectic, certainly a rollercoaster none of us remembered getting on, but we sure don’t want to get off.
Or do we?
Since according to an informant, who will stay anonymous, a cheerleader and a member of Omega Phi were getting it on behind the old stairwell of the Psychology building.
Sound familiar?
Well, that’ll be because it isn’t the first time a cheerleader has taken a wild ride behind some stairs.
You’ll remember a campus-wide email sent in June of last year detailing the complaints members of the cleaning staff reported on ‘mysterious remnants staining’ the floors and walls which they found ‘extremely difficult’ to clean out. CC’ing the coach of the cheerleaders, none of us missed the implication. Ending with a reminder of the Code of Conduct we all agreed to upon acceptance of our offers, the good people of EdenU were left wondering, who were the culprits creating these stains?
Having conducted a poll, linked here, there ended up being no majority consensus on what it could have been, but a sizeable number of the student population, and beyond (thanks to the people of Eden City, much love), theorised it was ‘liquids of love’, as a Holistic Health researcher put it nicely.
We never did get an answer.
Until now?
Another informant kindly entered the Psychology building with a magnifying glass and pipe -- two fundamentally important ingredients to a good snoop -- and investigated for us. Their exploration led to a discovery of a used condom.
That’s a present he’ll never forget.
Though, I don’t recall if they ever reported what they did with it. Let’s just hope it isn’t a repeat of BlueToothGate — it still gives me nightmares.
Now we have two incidents of inappropriate uses of stairwells, is it still too early to wonder, what is it about stairs that gets people going?
Perhaps it’s the curves of the bannister as it rounds over the corner, or is it the creaking of the third step that drives people wild?
It’s entirely possible that we’ll see a rising trend of stairwellphilia and I, for one, cannot wait.
Speaking of Philias, the rumoured cousin-lovers both named Phil, after 78% of you voted, have been sighted once more. This time in the broom cupboard of the Literature department. Was it a moment of convenience or something more?
Is there also a rise in broomphilia?
Should we be concerned?
Will the school ever make a stand?
So many questions but only one certainty:
We say NO to cousin-love!
Or, at least, 52% of us did.
I do not want to know why it was such a close call. But I’m sure you’ll tell me anyways in my Insider’s Line.
On to more pressing matters; how is our List looking this time?
Drum roll please….
Gojo stays at number one!
Anyone surprised?
Before someone starts, no, I am not biased. The number of confessions regarding him are staggering and that has not changed, only grown, since he entered the fold.
Having thrown yet another smashing bash, this time in Genesis Park, the president of Alpha Phi Delta secured his spot as the most desired man on campus. People reported the utter genius of using the skate ramps as beer pong tables and his quick thinking to hide the beloved pug mascot of our rival, Eden Met, down the slide.
The picture taken by his friends cuddling the adorable puppy in his shirtless arms has, I’m sure, been printed out and pasted on every surface of many girl’s bedrooms.
No judgements here.
The silent but deadly man of campus, lovingly known as Hot Nerd Nanami, has risen up the rankings after many months of stagnation at 13th to 4th after he was seen abandoning his frumpy blue sweater in favour of a plain white tee. Boring and basic on anyone else but downright scandalous and drool-worthy on the physics student.
As some people have confessed, this is the most bare we've ever been able to see of him. Is it the beginning of a new era?
Or was it just laundry day?
Whatever the reason may be, we are sure glad it happened.
Apart from the usual, one other interesting change in our List is Vice President Sukuna’s rank — having been at 5th last time, he’s been bumped up to 2nd. And it wasn’t because of a shirtless picture he posted on Insta, for once.
No, this time, there are videos circulating the Bulletin which displays him, in the background of Gojo's disciplinary hearing, eyeing someone up and down like they were the tastiest wagyu around. This is the most daring, most expressive, most human? we’ve ever seen our star basketball player.
But just who was bringing that out of him?
Send in your guesses, people!
It’s time to play our favourite game:
Who Are You Looking At?
-------------
Some people wanted to see a example of Toji's reader's writing so I busted one out for y'all x
Not proofread btw
212 notes
·
View notes
Text
HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81.
love is a wild ride, and logan sargeant's sister is about to find this out the hard way.
( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )
━━ part six.
Oscar looks as surprised as you feel— eyes wide, mouth parted slightly, frozen mid-step into the entryway. He’s staring at you, in fact, he’s focused entirely on you, but this moment doesn’t feel as magical as you had envisioned it would be. It doesn’t feel magical at all.
There’s no butterflies in your stomach, no teary reunion hugs, and there’s definitely no movie-worthy kiss.
He looks like a deer in the headlights, caught somewhere between wanting to turn tail and run away or being swallowed up by the floorboards— anything to be anywhere else in the world than right here with you.
And it hurts.
“Y/N,” he finally starts, clearing his throat when his voice cracks awkwardly on your name. He shifts from foot to foot, and clenches and unclenches his hands at his side like he isn’t quite sure what to do with them. “I, uh, didn’t know you would be here.”
You open your mouth to respond— to say the same. You want to explain that you hadn’t known he would be here either, and that had you known you would’ve waited up for him at the house instead of hitting the town with Lando, but before you can get a single word out Oscar is already turning to Lando and fixing him with a glare.
“You said you were at a meeting,” he says, words clipped and under-toned with frustration.
Lando steps further into his entryway and kicks off his shoes, not seeming to care about where they end up. “Technically,” he begins as he does so, peering over his shoulder at Oscar with a cheeky grin, “a dinner can be considered a meeting.”
Oscar’s jaw clenches. “You didn’t tell me it would be with her.”
Your brows furrow and you cross your arms. You feel startlingly sober now, and the shift away from the warm fuzzy buzz leaves you feeling cold and like the world has been brought into hyperfocus.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, bringing Oscar’s attention back to you.
He takes in your stance and the expression on your face, perhaps realizing how his words sounded, and sighs. “I just would’ve appreciated being told I’d be sharing the house with… with you before I got here.”
“So you could avoid me like you have been since the season ended?” It… isn’t what you had been intending to say, but the words rush out of you before you can reign them in and bite them back. You know Oscar isn’t the only party at fault in this situation— you know that you could’ve just as easily reached out— but you feel hurt and angry, and having him stand before you demanding to know things makes it worse.
He huffs and looks away from you, avoiding your gaze. “I would’ve liked to have known I’d be third-wheeling, is all.”
It’s a bitter comment, muttered just loud enough for you to hear. The implications are valid, you know they are, but they’re not true despite what your and Lando’s comment interactions seem like.
You don’t feel so confident in your dress anymore— it feels like just another thing Oscar could comment about as proof of the unprofessionalism of your friendship with Lando. You want to scream at him that it doesn’t matter that you got dressed up to feel pretty, and it certainly doesn’t matter that you had a night on the town with Lando, who has been more of a friend to you in the past month than Oscar has been.
You can feel the tears burning at the back of your eyes, and wonder briefly how possible it would be to get a flight back to the States in the morning so you don’t have to spend the rest of the week stuck being made to feel like you’re just getting in the way of Oscar’s time with his teammate.
As if he can tell you’re on the verge of breaking out into sobs, Lando steps in physically and verbally. He takes a step in front of you, partially blocking you from Oscar’s view. “Mate,” he starts, “cool it. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, it was meant to be a surprise. But Y/N isn’t at fault. She didn’t know either.”
Oscar goes to speak again, but before he can you clear your throat and draw their attention to you once more. “I’m gonna go upstairs and get changed. Thank you for tonight again, Lando. It was nice and I really needed it.”
You give Lando a curt nod, one that he mirrors back at you with a sympathetic smile. You feel bad for dragging him into all of this now, especially when he’d gone out of his way to have you both here presumably to get you to figure things out. You hadn’t meant for things to put a strain on their friendship as well. So much of what you’d done had been done so to avoid more complications. You’d tried not to tell Logan, because you hadn’t wanted it to threaten his closeness with Oscar, especially with how rough it had been for him to make friends on the grid. On top of that, you’d been hesitant to agree to Lando’s plan in the first place for a multitude of reasons, but mostly because he and Oscar are teammates, and though they’re rivals out on the track they are also the only allies they have when the race is going. They need to be able to trust one another— not be distracted by petty disagreements.
You avoid looking at Oscar, like he seemed keen on doing to you just a moment ago, and slip past both of them to the stairs. It’s hard to get up them as fast as you want with your heels, but you manage as best you can and are thankful for it when the tears stinging your eyes finally begin sliding down your cheeks as you’re fumbling with the door knob of your room.
A few hours later, you’re curled up in bed on the phone with Logan. You’ve been changed out of your dress for a while, now clad in a T-shirt that you’re pretty sure belonged to Dalton at one point and a pair of comfortable sweats. Your hair is still damp from the shower you took and it’s making you cold, but the warm steam had done wonders in keeping your eyes from puffing up after having a good cry and in getting rid of the tear-stricken remains of your makeup, so you can’t complain.
Mostly you just want to forget about it all, and that’s why you’ve gone to your brother.
“I just feel like an idiot,” you tell him. “All of this is my fault. If I had just never gone along with trying to make him jealous then maybe he wouldn’t be so upset with me.”
Logan makes a sound of disagreement. “That still doesn’t give him the right to talk to you like that.”
“He wasn’t wrong, Logie,” you answer. “As far as he knows, he would be third-wheeling me and Lando because that’s the impression we’ve given with our comments.”
He huffs and you can imagine him shaking his head and rolling his eyes on the other end, looking disgruntled. “Maybe that’s the impression you gave,” he starts again, “but that still doesn’t give him the right to be an asshole about it. I never got pissy with Alex when I was basically a third wheel to him and Lily half the time.”
“Yeah, but Alex isn’t using Lily to try and make you jealous so you’ll admit you have feelings for him.”
“Fair point,” he admits, grumbling. “But I digress. You’re my sister and that means you could kill a man and I would still defend you to anyone who tried to talk bad about you.”
You chuckle, and it’s the first time you’ve laughed since your encounter with Oscar which makes you feel a bit lighter.
“I think I might try to find a flight home tomorrow. I feel like I’ll just be causing more issues if I stay here, and I don’t want to make things difficult between them when they’re still driving together next season. I just don’t—” There’s a knock on your door. You relay it to Logan as you rise from the bed and make your way over to answer.
It’s Oscar.
You murmur a soft apology and then a goodbye to Logan and promise to text him later before you hang up and turn your attention back to the young man shifting around awkwardly in the hallway before you.
“Can I help you?”
He purses his lips and sheepishly meets your eyes, looking somewhat guilty which makes you wonder what, if anything, Lando said to him after you departed. “Lando said the other guest room is out of commission,” he starts, “and that, as friends, it wouldn’t be a big deal if we shared.” He clears his throat, and motions with a thumb over his shoulder back in the direction of the stairs. “I can take the couch if you want, but I just thought I could at least leave my luggage up here.”
The Oscar before you now looks drastically different from the Oscar you’d been presented with just a few hours prior. He’s dressed the same, in a loose hoodie and a pair of joggers, but he doesn’t look quite so desperate to disappear anymore. He looks ashamed. It’s closer to how you know Oscar to be from before everything happened in Bahrain.
“You don’t have to sleep on the couch,” you tell him.
He frowns. “I’m not gonna make you sleep on the couch.”
You raise an eyebrow at him and lean against the door. “I meant we could share, Oscar.” Then, partly teasing and partly wondering if he just genuinely doesn’t want to share a room with you, you frown and add, “Unless you really can’t stand the idea that much—”
“I’m fine with sharing.” He interrupts quickly, clearing his throat. “And… I’m sorry about the things I said earlier. I am happy to see you, I was just shocked is all and traveling made me a bit cranky so I didn’t handle it all that well. It’s not an excuse, though. And for the record, I don’t actually think I’ll be third-wheeling the entire time I’m here.”
The apology makes you pause. You hadn’t actually expected him to say anything because you hadn’t actually thought he was the one in the wrong. Sure, you’d been hurt, but you’d figured it was the least of what you deserved after making things so complicated. The butterflies that had been dormant when you’d first reunited with him suddenly make an appearance, fluttering in your chest.
“It’s fine,” you answer. Ignoring the pinched look he shoots you that says he wants to argue against it. “I know what it looked like,” you add.
You’re both silent for a moment, just looking at one another. His luggage sits by his feet, but he makes no move to grab it or try to enter the room, and you don’t try to open the door any further.
After another few seconds, you take a deep breath and ask— “Are we still friends?”
“Of course!” He exclaims, expression immediately melting into a mixture of confusion and concern. “Why would you think we aren’t?”
It’s obvious to you, but his genuine perplexity makes you wonder if maybe you’ve been overthinking this whole thing. What if he hasn’t been ignoring you at all? What if he just went off the grid for a bit? Drivers do that all the time, so it’s not out of place if he had decided to do so as well. Maybe he was just taking a social media detox? He only posted a few times, so a partial detox then?
You cast your gaze downward, watching your fingers fiddle with the drawstring of your pants.
“You would’ve known I was here in Monaco if you had looked at my Instagram,” you say with a shrug. “But you haven’t done that in a while, so…”
He shifts, and you look up just in time to see him make another face— a wince. “I—”
“I’m not trying to attack you, Oscar.” You interrupt, realizing how your words must’ve come across. And you’re not. It’s not an accusation, just an observation that you would really like an explanation for. “It doesn’t matter. I just feel like I’ve done something to make you upset and I don’t know the first thing about how to apologize or make it up to you because I don’t even know what I did.”
He stares at you for another moment and then heaves a sigh and runs a hand down his face, “You haven’t done anything, I promise, Y/N. I’ve just been in a funk lately, or something.”
You want to prod more— ask if he’s okay, if it’s something serious, or if it’s something you can help with in any way. But you feel like this particular interaction is an olive branch, and you don’t want the already tentative reconciliation to be torn to shreds by pushing too far.
“So we’re good?” You ask instead.
“We’re good.” He confirms with a gentle smile.
“Great,” you exclaim, clapping your hands together for emphasis. You swing the door open wider and then nod to his bags. “Then bring those in and turn the lights out already because I had a crazy night and it’s finally hitting me.”
His laughter behind you as you make your way back to the bed is the nicest sound you’ve ever heard.
━━ tags: @f1-is-lovely-33 @chasing-liberosis @405rry @aquangxl @bellezaycafe @peqch-pie @formulaal @chonkybonky @mess-is-my-aesthetic @flippingmyshit @peachiicherries
━━ a/n: a tentative reconciliation! there is still more drama to come, however, so don't worry, this isn't the end just yet!
#formula 1#formula one#f1#formula 1 imagine#f1 imagine#formula one imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula one x reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#logan sargeant#alex albon#lando norris#social media au
498 notes
·
View notes
Text
PURE ATTRACTION | JJK | TATTOO ARTIST

Pairing: TattooArtistJungkook X NaiveReader
Summary: "I shouldn't be watching a man undressing, especially not from the house next door."
Warning: more religion 😬 depression, Jimin, Taehyung, and Yoongi appear. Jungkook in a towel 💦👅 finally a kiss (things from here happen quickly.) ATTENTION, THIS STORY IS NOT SLOWBURN.
A/N: Guys, I took a while this time for reasons of: laziness and discouragement. I wanted more people to read what I write, but I'm introverted even on the Internet, which leaves me with few alternatives to show my writing to the world. Thinking about it, I'm in trouble. Other than that, only a few days have passed, so everything is fine. Back to the story, everything starts to pick up pace. Just to repeat, the fanfic is not slowburn, so there will be smut in the next chapter. Stay tuned.
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Chapter 3
I spend the whole week riding an emotional rollercoaster. I find myself visiting my neighbor, Mrs. Jeon, more frequently than usual, and with each visit, our friendship blossoms deeper. She shares stories of her youth, of wild adventures and carefree days when she was my age. Her openness encourages me to share my own experiences–or rather, my lack of them. I recount my first disastrous kiss, confess that I've never been in love, and reveal how my once unshakeable faith in the church has wavered since my father's passing. I feel a weight lift off my shoulders; here, I am free to be imperfect, to be vulnerable, without fear of judgment.
Yet, there's one thing I keep to myself: the incident with her son, Jungkook, and the profound effect he has on me. Throughout all my visits, I never see him again. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I casually ask Mrs. Jeon where he is. She tells me that he moved and rented an apartment to avoid being a burden. He only spent the first night at home after his trip, and I remember that night well–from my window, of course–but I don't mention it. Disappointment settles in me like a stone; I long to see him again, but I focus on his mother instead. Having her to confide in is a relief, a breath of fresh air in my otherwise stifling life.
I patiently wait for her to open up about her own struggles, her depression, but she never does. I worry that I might know something I shouldn't, that perhaps she's not comfortable sharing with me. But I promise myself I'll keep her secret safe, no matter what. Today is Sunday, and I won't visit Mrs. Jeon since I'll see her at church. I'm excited–despite my mother making unnecessary comments and disturbing my peace of mind, I'll have someone to rely on.
I smooth down my dark brown dress, fixing my messy hair. I dab a bit of lipstick on my fingertips and press it onto my lips, careful not to overdo it. The truth is, I enjoy makeup, but I've never learned how to apply it properly. I feel embarrassed drawing attention to myself with bolder colors; after all, people are used to my lack of vanity. I sigh, steeling myself as I head downstairs to meet my mother.
She hasn't stopped talking about Jungkook. Unlike me, who had a good first impression, she despises him. She criticizes everything: his eyebrow piercing, his bold style, his tattoos, even the way he carries himself. I can't help but wonder if she accepted the dinner invitation just to analyze him, searching for flaws that exist only in her mind. She's been friends with Misuk since moving to town, and I want to believe–perhaps naively–that my mother doesn't have ulterior motives.
We arrive at church early, the space quiet with only a few members milling about. My mother drifts away to chat with the older congregation, and I find a seat, taking a deep breath. I scan the room for Mrs. Jeon but I don't see her. Since it's still early, I'm not too worried. I take a moment to read the Bible, reflecting on positive thoughts when I feel a gentle touch on my shoulder. I turn, and there he is–Jungkook, smiling brightly. I frown, almost convinced he's a mirage. Am I daydreaming?
"Hi Y/N, are you okay?" he asks softly, his lips brushing almost against my ear. His intense gaze locks with mine, and I'm relieved to be sitting down; my legs feel weak in his presence.
"Everything's fine," I reply, my eyes dropping to my fingers. I want to engage him, ask about his week, inquire how he's been, but the words stick in my throat. It's as though I can't act normally around him. I take a deep breath, mustering the courage to comment, "I didn't know you attended church."
"I don't," he laughs, amusement dancing in his eyes. And rightly so; considering his clothes–a heavy leather jacket, shaved sides, and a wavy fringe–it's sexy but definitely not what you'd expect at church. "I haven't been since I was a kid."
"Really? Why?" I ask, genuinely curious, my gaze drawn to his eyebrow piercing, oddly captivating.
"I didn't feel welcome," he replies simply. There's no bitterness in his voice, and I understand all too well what he means. My mother, for example, was the first to judge him based on his appearance, and I can only imagine how difficult it is to feel at home in a place where you're not embraced.
"I understand," I say, unsure of what else to add. "So, you came here to give it another shot?"
"No way," he chuckles. "Actually, my mom mentioned you two planned to meet at church today."
"That's true," I confirm.
"Unfortunately, she can't make it today. She's not feeling well."
"Is she okay?" My concern surfaces immediately.
"She's fine, don't worry. Just a headache, and she took some medicine. She'll be better soon," he assures me, his hand lightly touching my shoulder. I can't help but notice how warm and gentle his touch is. I shake my head, trying to divert my thoughts from Jungkook's hands to anything else.
"I'm relieved to hear that," I smile, noticing the church is starting to fill up.
"I'm actually inviting some friends over to my apartment, and I wanted to know if you'd like to join us," he says, brushing his fingertips against his ear, a bit shy. I'm taken aback; I didn't expect this invitation. He wants me to come over with his friends?
"And why?" I ask, surprised. It's been a while since we last saw each other, and we haven't talked much even then.
"I like you. I want you to come so we can have fun."
"If this is some kind of payment, or something like that... you really don't need to." I reply, not believing it. I don't have friends, and the thought that he wants to be with me and the people he likes seems absurd to me.
"It's not that. I'm even a bit offended." He jokes, smiling. "I really want you to come, please."
"Jungkook... I don't know."
"I swear they're nice. Every time I'm in Busan, we hang out. They're trustworthy, I promise."
"I can imagine," I reply, still hesitant. I'd have to leave church, skip the service, and ask my mother for permission to go out with him, and of course, she wouldn't allow it. No way. It's not that I don't want to; I desperately want to spend time with him. That's been on my mind all week. "I don't think it's possible; my mom..."
"I know," he interjects, as if he anticipated my response. "But what if, just this once, you say you are going to my mom's? We could say I'm taking you there when in fact, you're coming to my apartment."
"Are you asking me to lie to my mother in a church?" I can't help but laugh at the absurdity of it. He shrugs, grinning.
"God knows it's just once," he replies confidently, pouting slightly. "What do you say? Later, I can take you to my mom's whenever you want, or you can stay at my apartment since I have more than one room. You set the time and conditions."
"Jungkook..." I groan, covering my face with my hands. The thought of lying to my mother, especially to go to a guy's house, sends a wave of anxiety through me. If she finds out, I'll be in big trouble.
"Come on! It'll be fun. I promise," he pleads softly. I can't say no to him, at least not now. I nod, agreeing to the madness.
"Okay, but you're the one who's going to talk to my mom. And if I say I want to leave, you agree. No alcohol because I know you drive. Those are my conditions," I assert, trying to sound firm. He smiles and salutes me, like a soldier receiving orders, and I slowly get up, taking small steps toward my mother. I let Jungkook lead the way, my nerves creeping back as I prepare to tell a lie in this sacred place.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Eunji. Good afternoon, everyone," he greets my mom and the other church members. My mother looks utterly shocked, her eyes nearly popping out of her head as she takes in his appearance.
"Good afternoon, Jungkook," she replies, lacking enthusiasm, her gaze scanning him from head to toe. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to do a favor for my mom," he clarifies, and if I didn't know better, I'd almost believe him. "My mom asked Y/N to keep her company since my dad will be out of town for a few days. I came to pick her up."
"Really?" my mom looks at me, and I don't say anything, just nodding.
"It's true. My dad went to Daegu this weekend, and since my mom hasn't been feeling well, she asked Y/N to spend time with her. If you allow it, of course," he smiles calmly, and I brace myself waiting for my mother's response. I watch her weigh her options, glancing between Jungkook and me for what feels like an eternity before she sighs and nods.
"Alright, that's fine. Is your mom feeling okay?"
"Yes, she's getting better. Can we go now?" he asks, a hint of urgency in his voice.
"Yes, you may go," my mom sighs, placing a hand on her forehead. "It's a shame you're missing the service today, Y/N. Next week, you'll definitely come, okay?"
"Yes, mom, for sure," I agree weakly, clearing my throat and avoiding her gaze, still stunned that she let me go to Jungkook's house. Well, not his house, but is practically the same thing.
"Shall we go, Y/N? My mom is waiting," Jungkook says, raising an eyebrow. I nod, still silent, as we make our way toward the exit.
Some people stare, especially the older members, who seem shocked by Jungkook's appearance–too conservative, in my opinion. Somehow, the situation feels even funnier. Once we're sure no one can see us anymore, I burst into laughter, clutching my stomach. Jungkook chuckles too, exhaling as if he's just finished a tough exam and is finally free.
"Your mom is tough, huh?" he laughs. "I thought she was going to kill me with her eyes."
"Sorry," I say, still giggling a little. "She's like that with everyone."
"Even with you?"
"Even with me," I nod. "What do we do now?"
"Now, we go to my apartment. My friends have the key, so they're probably already there."
"Don't tell me they're all guys," I groan, suddenly anxious. I hadn't considered that he might not have any female friends, and I'd be the only girl at the apartment if that were the case.
"No, relax! I have female friends too. You'll like them," he assures me, walking toward a sleek black car parked across the street. I know nothing about cars, but I can tell this one is expensive. I feel out of place, acutely aware that Jungkook lives in a different world, one that's far removed from my own.
The tension in the car is palpable as we drive. The ride feels like it takes forever, the windows closed, and I'm intoxicated by his scent. I discreetly watch his large hands on the wheel, the way his long fingers tap rhythmically against the leather seat. I have to swallow hard to keep from drooling over him. I'm starving–not for food, but for him. All week, I've yearned to be near him, to touch him. I think I'm suffering from a Jungkook overdose, craving something I haven't even tasted yet.
I ponder whether he's aware of the effect he has on me, but I like to believe he hasn't noticed. It's easier that way. I breathe slowly, attempting to relax in my seat. It takes another ten minutes before Jungkook opens the gate to a condo with a small remote and drives in slowly. His car fits the place perfectly. Everything is stunning and upscale. I glance at my clothes and regret agreeing to come. Why did I say yes? I don't know his friends, and I don't know Jungkook that well, aside from the overwhelming attraction I feel toward him. What do I actually know about him? That he's a tattoo artist from Seoul? That he's rich and hasn't set foot in a church since childhood? I feel like I've walked into a situation that's spiraling out of control.
"Hey, Y/N, are you okay? You went quiet all of a sudden," he asks, concern etched on his face.
"I'm fine. Just feeling a bit strange," I admit.
"Why?"
"I don't know," I confess, omitting my paranoid thoughts. "I always feel like this in new places."
"I get that. I feel that way too," he tells me as we step into the parking elevator. I follow him, digesting this new revelation.
"You seem so confident and social," I comment, genuinely amazed. His big eyes meet mine as the elevator rises, floors passing by in a blur.
"I know, it seems that way. But in reality, I'm quite introverted. I have a small circle of friends and prefer it that way. I just fake it really well," he shares, and I find myself wanting to know more about the person behind the confident exterior.
"Really?" I ask, intrigued.
"Yeah," he nods, his expression earnest.
I try to respond, but the elevator stops on a floor, and Jungkook smiles at me, indicating that this is the right place. I feel one of his hands gently touch my waist, guiding me to a white door. I have to take a deep breath to keep from freaking out, my sweaty, trembling hands hidden in my pocket. I hear different music from the other side of the door before the place fully opens up to us.
"Hey, he's here! Finally, Jungkook!" I hear a male voice. It's a guy around Jungkook's age, I realize as soon as we walk in. His hair is a dark red, and his skin is pale and smooth. It's no surprise that his arms are covered in tattoos, drawings and phrases I can't read so far away. He also watches me closely, smiling warmly.
"Guys, this is YN, the one I told you about," Jungkook introduces me with a smile.
I turn red because there are at least seven people staring at me from head to toe. The apartment is well-kept, with dark wooden furniture. The living room is immaculate, with abstract paintings and photos of Jungkook and his family on the walls. I don't have much time to take everything in as my eyes focus on Jungkook's friends, who are strangers to me so far. Saying they're different from me would be an understatement.
They all have many tattoos and wear dark clothing. I sense an aura of confidence from all of them, but never hostility. It's as if they're very similar to Jungkook, with a completely different exterior from their inner selves. I relax a bit, smiling warmly and putting on my best expression.
"Nice to meet you all," I say, feeling a bit shy. They stand up and smile at me.
"Nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm Yoongi. That's my girlfriend, Minji," says the red-haired guy, pointing to the woman who just smiles. I offer my hand, feeling his cold skin from the beer bottle he was holding earlier.
"I'm Bora, and this is my boyfriend, Jimin," one of the dark-haired women greets me next, pointing to her boyfriend. They're a good-looking couple, the kind you see in magazines. Jimin has the brightest and most open smile.
"Nice to meet you," I nod.
"I'm Taehyung, but you can call me Tae," one of the guys says, taking a sip of his drink.
"I'm Yoori, Tae's girlfriend. Nice to meet you," she winks, making me laugh.
"And I'm Hayun, the only single one in the group," one of the girls shakes my hand, pulling me into a hug. She kisses my cheek, making her presence increasingly noticeable.
"Hayun, you're only single because you want to be, come on," Bora rolls her eyes. Hayun laughs, grabbing a snack from the coffee table.
"I like being single, except when I'm surrounded by couples. Especially couples like you guys."
"Do you have a boyfriend, Y/N?" Jimin asks. Embarrassed, I shake my head.
"No," I reply. They seem surprised, making noises with their mouths.
"But Jungkook is single too, right?" The guy with dark hair says, drinking his beverage. I thinks his name is Tae, if I remember right.
"And I want to keep that way." Jungkook replys.
"Of course you do." Yoongi laughs along with his friends, rolling his eyes. I remain silent, not understanding the joke. Then Yoongi looks at me and seems to notice my confusion. "Y/N, Jungkook never dates. The only time he tried, it went so wrong that now he doesn’t want to do it again."
"It was a disaster." Yoori adds, as if telling a fictional story. Jungkook rolls his eyes, sighing, but his friend continues: "he’s been avoiding relationships like the devil avoids the cross since then."
"Really?" I ask, genuinely curious.
"It’s not true, Y/N." Jungkook smiles at me. "They’re idiots."
"That’s not a lie." Minji, who had been silent until then, clarifies. "He’s been asked out several times, and he always declines. Women go crazy for him, for some reason."
"I know what the reason is." Jimin laughs mischievously, suggesting something while raising an eyebrow. I turn red when they laugh at the joke. Jungkook doesn’t contest it, too busy eating one of the snacks on the table. "But what about you, Y/N? Have you ever dated before?"
"Never." I reply. They don't look surprised this time.
"So you're like Jungkook, who avoids relationships?" Bora asks with a laugh. I feel Jungkook's eyes on me, watching attentively for my response. I shake my head, feeling awkward.
"No, actually, it's just a lack of options," I clarify, deciding to be honest. I hold my hands together nervously.
"Now you have two options," Yoongi suggests with a chuckle. Minji hits his arm trying to stop him, but he continues: "There's Hayun, since she likes to try out a little bit of everything, like some pussy and shit."
"Oh!" I widen my eyes, shocked, as they laugh even more. It's the first time I've seen someone speak so openly like this. Embarrassed, I look at Hayun, but she doesn't seem to mind the comment, laughing with the others.
"Who would be the other option?" Taehyung asks his friend with his trademark grin.
"Our friend Jungkook, obviously," Yoongi clarifies, and I choke on the answer, coughing uncontrollably.
They laugh even more, watching me nearly suffocate from the joke. Jungkook pats my back, smiling widely. His thumb caresses the skin of my arm, waiting for me to calm down. We're so close that he inadvertently wraps one of his arms around my shoulder. I'm shocked and even more unsettled. For me, physical contact beyond my mom is rare. Hugs, affection... I'm just not used to it.
"Are you okay?" he asks amidst his friends' chatter. I nod, staring at my hands. "Sorry about Yoongi; he always makes these kinds of jokes. He doesn't mean any harm."
"It's fine," I assure him, feeling awkward, unable to look into his eyes. "I actually liked everyone."
"Really?" he asks, bringing his nose close to my hair. My whole body shivers as I realize he's smelling my perfume, giving a satisfied smile when he pulls away. "Good to know."
I stay silent, feeling his warm breath near me. Jungkook removes his arm from my shoulder, but his skin still brushes against mine when he takes off his heavy jacket, leaving him in just a T-shirt. His friends are fun and involve me in the conversation, making me feel comfortable, but the truth is that having Jungkook so close drives me crazy and I can't pay much attention. I wonder how long I'll feel this way about him. Will this strong effect never go away? This is the third time we've met, but something tells me that no matter how many times I see him-be it two times or a thousand-my heart will always race whenever he gets close and smiles at me.
I don't even notice the time passing and only realize it's late when Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung offer to take their girlfriends home, along with Hayun, who complains about not having anyone waiting for her at her apartment. Everyone leaves until only Jungkook and I remain. He promised to take me to his mother's house if I wanted, but I'm hesitant to ask as it's quite likely Mrs. Jeon is already asleep by now.
"Y/N, do you want me to get a towel for you?" Jungkook asks, tidying up the living room. I'm confused, picking up some empty soju bottles his friends drank to throw away.
"What do you mean?"
"You're not going to stay here?" he asks, furrowing his brow.
"Not really?" I laugh, then realize I might have been a bit rude, so I rephrase my response. "I mean, I don't think so. I don't want to be a bother."
"It's no bother. If you want, you can take a shower in my bathroom and sleep in the guest room." He offers with a smile. I bite my lower lip, unsure what to decide. I want to stay here, but it's just him and me now; is it really the right thing to do? It doesn't matter, Y/N. Just for one night.
"Okay then. Do you have a toothbrush, please?"
"Of course I do. Come with me, I'll get the stuff for you to use the bathroom." He calls me with a smile and walks down the long hallway. We pass by a few doors until we reach his room. My throat goes dry as my eyes scan the new space. His bed is large and covered with a dark gray blanket. The walls are white and everything is very organized, with a laptop next to the wardrobe and a fluffy black rug on the floor. His scent is everywhere, almost as if I'm breathing him. I clutch my hands together nervously about being alone with Jungkook in such an intimate space. He reappears after going to the closet, holding a white towel and some cotton clothes.
"You can take a shower in my bathroom while I use the guest one," he says, placing the items in my hands.
"Jungkook, that's not necessary..."
"Don't worry. I want you to be comfortable." He says before I can argue. His satisfied smile makes me not deny it again, happy to receive so much care from him. I just nod, agreeing. "The toothbrush is in the cabinet by the sink, in the package. You can open it, okay?"
"Okay, thank you very much." I smile before he walks down the hallway. I head to the door leading to the bathroom and sneak into the new space. I start thinking Jungkook has no flaws.
The place is as clean as the rest of the apartment, which makes me curious; does he clean everything himself, or does he hire someone to keep it tidy? I slowly take off my dress, grabbing my phone to text my mom and let her know I'm okay. I feel bad for lying, but the night was so good that I can't truly regret it. If I had to lie, to meet these same people, I would do it again. Thinking this surprises me, because just a few hours ago, I didn't think this way. The shower has a strong hot jet of water that massages my whole body, and it's so good that I have to convince myself to finish the shower and put on the clothes, trying to be done before Jungkook.
I brush my teeth quickly, smelling my skin that's still male fragrant with the liquid soap. I smile at myself in the mirror, brushing my hair with my fingers, trying to manage the unwashed strands. I open the bathroom door carefully, trying not to make too much noise and disturb the neighbors at this hour, when I see Jungkook again, this time only in a towel. I hold onto the doorframe, barely able to stand. A voice in my head tells me I shouldn't be watching him naked again and that I should turn around, go back into the bathroom, and pretend nothing happened, but I can't. I simply can't anymore. His muscular, wet back is in my field of vision as he searches for clothes. At that moment, my brain turns to mush and I decide to say what's been stuck in my throat.
"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?" I muster the courage to ask him but I regret it immediately. What the hell am I doing? Jungkook turns slowly and the view from the front is a thousand times better than from the back. His whole body glistens in the light of the room, and his tattoos have never been so vivid. His body is muscular, virile and strong. I gonna lose my mind! Feeling new sensations I've never experienced for anyone before.
"Y/N?" He whispers my name with that soft voice he used when we first met. He doesn't seem surprised or embarrassed, which makes me even more unsettled.
"You're doing this on purpose, Jungkook?" I ask again. I have no idea where I got such courage and I don't know how long it will last. My heart feels like it's going to leap out of my chest. My whole body is on edge and sweating. I feel my hands trembling as I swallow hard. "You're trying something? I mean... you're not wearing clothes again and..."
"What do you think, Y/N?" he retorts suddenly, with a hoarse, deep voice. His eyes wander from my head to toes, as he raises an eyebrow along with his piercing, with a smirk at the corner of his mouth. My legs turn to weak twigs immediately, ready to collapse.
"I-I don't know." I stammer as he takes one step, then two and three, getting closer and closer to me.
"When I arrived from my trip to Busan, on the first day, I was tired and exhausted," he tells me, taking another step. I start to run out of breath, anxious and aroused. My cheeks flush as he speaks more slowly. "All I wanted was to rest and sleep the whole night, but that night I couldn't, not for an hour. Do you know why?"
"N-no..." I moan softly as his chest presses against mine. His warm, wet skin makes contact with mine, and I no longer know where I begin or end, pressed against his body. His pink lips curl into a wicked smile, as if he knows exactly what he's doing to me and it's all intentional. I shiver as his free hand moves up my wrist and grips the back of my neck firmly, making my eyes focus on his mouth and then his dark, deep eyes.
"A woman, next window, taking off all her damn clothes, completely shameless," he growls, pulling my neck closer to his face and pressing his lips to my ear. My spine tingles as I feel his teeth on my earlobe, in a bite that doesn't hurt but damn, it makes me shiver. My body contracts once and twice, and I know exactly what I'm feeling now: desire. The kind I feel occasionally when I try to touch myself alone and can't reach climax. The feeling I only have when I'm alone and confortable in my bed, trying to use my imagination even with the lack of real experience, but this is real, and it is infinitely better than what my mind could create.
"It was an accident, Jung..." I try to say, but my voice doesn't come out. The tip of his nose travels along a sensitive spot behind my ear, one I didn't even know existed, slowly moving down my jawline, discovering new paths. His hand tightens around my waist, keeping me in place, immobile.
"It may be that you didn't notice, Y/N, but I know you were watching me, even while I was undressing, even when you had every opportunity to stop." He argues with a smile, as someone who knows what they're doing and enjoys seeing the result. "And you know what's worse...? The worst thing is knowing the effect you have on me. From the first time I saw you in my house, with your innocent and curious eyes. I can't get you out of my damn head. Your mouth, your scent..."
"J-Jungkook... please." I beg, closing my eyes tightly. And I know what I want. I want him, since the first time I saw him. Since my eyes met his, I desired him so strongly that I couldn't think straight. He pulls away just a little, and I almost moan in a plea for him not to go. He sighs, pressing his forehead to mine.
"Can I kiss you, Y/N?" he asks in a very soft voice, and I nod because, despite all the things I believe in–God, hell, heaven and even my mother–nothing has ever been as adored as Jungkook. Since I met him, inexplicably, I only think about him, like a spell unable to contemplate of any other answer besides yes. I look at his eyes as they travel to my mouth, and I lower mine to his, exhilarated by that pink that only exists in him.
I move closer, my lips almost touching his, feeling the warmth of his breath. "Just kiss me, please." I murmur scared of what I'm doing; temptation clear in every word. And then he does.
Ask for a TAGLIST in the comments.

@ane102 @ttipa @joonwater
#Spotify#kpop#bts#jungkook#fanfic#jungkook smut#suga#taehyung#anime#celebrities#music#jungkook angst#jungkook fanfic#jeon jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x you#smut#romance#fanfiction#fluff#jungkook fluff#bts x you#bts x fem!reader#bts x y/n#bts x oc#bts x reader
136 notes
·
View notes