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oftenderweapons · 3 years

Text

Steamy Waters — Jungkook

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x reader (nicknamed Candy)

Wordcount: 7.7k

Genre: smut, pwp; initial fluff, but don’t let that fool you; established relationship; idol!AU

Rating: 18+

Hello my fluffy ducklings, welcome to Jeongguk’s Steamy Waters 😈

I won’t even pretend there’s a plot in this. It’s just Jk, coming home from the gym and finding excuses to shower with his gf. Set almost a month after Love Talk, Jeongguk is finally ready to take a big step in his relationship with Candy, however finding the courage for the big leap is excruciating. Candy is more than willing to reward him before asking for something in return, she simply doesn’t know how much her game will cost her.

I decided I’ll keep using the nickname the nickname “Guk”, (see more in this post). Now, straight on to...

TRIGGER WARNINGS: unprotected sex within an established relationship (don’t do that unless YOU’RE TESTED AND CLEAN), mentions of therapy and mental health; sweaty jock!Jungkook, smitten!Jungkook who can’t express his emotions but IS WORKING ON IT, with a very supportive gf; I guess there’s a striptease, if you like... squint?; masturbation (female and male receiving); breast worship; period talk; very intimate love confession; foreplay under the shower (specifically mutual oral sex — aka 69 — while laying on the floor); predator/prey dynamics (namely she runs and he chases her, finds her as she tries to hide, drags her out and throws her over his shoulder); plenty of lube (lube is important and useful, let’s normalise using it); lots of degradation and objectification, name calling (fuckdoll, slut, cocksleeve, cockfairy), very multiple orgasms — like a lot; edging (both male and female receiving), begging, crying, slight humiliation. These two know all the possible variations to missionary sex (sorry not sorry); biting; slightest, most delicate face slapping and grabbing; spanking; tattoo fetish; cumplay, mentions of cum eating.

[Inspired by this look]

Here is my masterlist and check out my non-idols!AU (Partition update coming on Sat, Jan 23rd!!!)

Remember to vote for next prompt (link in bio)!

And now, enjoy ✨💜

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The entry door smashed loudly sometime around ten p.m., followed by the thud of a bag falling to the floor, Jeongguk’s heavy steps stopping as he took of his shoes.

The moment he appeared he looked unreal, with an oversized black shirt reaching his mid thigh, the sleeves exposing his forearms and part of his tattoos, his hair falling messily in wet curls over his forehead.

“Candy, babe?” He called from the entry. “I’m home!”

“Guk?” You called from the kitchen, your head peeking around the corner. He spotted you and smiled.

“What you doing there?” He said with a smile, sauntering towards you, standing at your side and placing a hand around your waist as you stood by the stove.

You turned and stood on your tiptoes, puckering your lips and closing your eyes.

He bent down and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. “I’m sorry I’m messy.” He said, close to your mouth.

“Are you fresh out of the gym?” You asked.

He nodded. “I haven’t even showered yet. I wanted to come home as soon as possible.” His fingers rubbed your side gently, trying not to tickle you. “I missed you a lot today.”

You smiled as you finished warming up his favourite post-workout snack. “I’ve already eaten. I thought you might be hungry.” You said, just as he stole the ladle and took a sip.

“Yum!” He commented, placing the utensil back in your hand. He stood behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders. “I wanna hug you but I’m too sweaty.” He commented as he kneeled the tense muscles of your neck.

You shook your head. “Oh, these need to be washed,” you said, referring to your outfit. “We went to a bulgogi place today and I feel like I smell so bad.”

“You haven’t showered yet?” He asked, his hands slowing down, almost stopping.

“No… I switched on the tv and there was this interesting old interview with Miyazaki and I got caught up.” You explained with a cheery tone.

“The Japanese director and artist?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You confirmed, switching off the stove and pouring a couple ladles of noodles and broth in a bowl, adding some basic decorations on top.

He paused before wrapping an arm around your waist. “Can I hug you then?” He asked gently, almost too quietly for you to hear.

Still, there was no way you wouldn’t hear his voice. Sometimes you thought you could hear his very thoughts.

“Of course you can hug me, Guk.”

His body adhered to yours without hesitation, a low moan exiting his throat as he felt you sink even deeper into him, pressing into his body, almost trying to hide into him.

“I said I missed you.” He said shyly, waiting for you to praise him as he opened up about his emotions.

You were working through it, together, trying to make him open up more, offer you more of himself, of his feelings and fears.

“I missed you too, baby. I love you.” You spoke against his chest, taking in the clean and humid scent of his skin. He always smelled so good even after working out. Especially after working out.

Your hormones did a somersault.

“Today I felt very… restless.”

That was a very specific word for his emotional vocabulary. Lately, he was getting better and better, finding new words that fit his moods appropriately. His way of speaking was always plain, in the best meaning of the term. He is simple and transparent, always using basic words with great meaning. That seemed to be his style, pure and direct, honest.

However, he was growing a lot, even emotionally. He was slowly losing the adjective “young” that people normally put before the word “man” when trying to describe him.

He is a man. And an excellent one at that. Sure, a bit naive sometimes, and still shy, but he always showed a caring, attentive side whenever you tried to speak your needs and grievances within your relationship.

“Mh… What made you feel restless today?” You asked, repeating an exercise that your psychologist always made you do when you were a teen.

“We practiced a choreo all morning. And we always messed up the same part. There’s a very difficult transition and it’s just… so difficult to end up in the right position after the passage.” He said, huffing out loudly.

You thought about his food getting cold, still you knew that if you made him eat the conversation would quite surely stop. “Anything else, baby?” You asked, kissing his breastbone.

“We had a couple interviews this afternoon. One with a radio and another one with a talk show.” He said. “I’m glad that my English is improving. Namjoon hyung said he’s proud of me and that I did a good job.”

You heard the smile in his voice.

“Even Yoongi hyung said I did a good job. And he offered me a tangerine!” He said enthusiastically.

You rubbed his back. “We’re all proud of you, baby.” You said fondly.

“Thank you.” He replied and when you looked up at his face you saw his ears flush red.

“Time to eat, Koo.” You said, pressing your hands to the sides of his head, trying to calm down the blush.

He smiled.

He looked beautiful.

On your tiptoes, you kissed the mole under his lip, shortly before he picked you up by the waist and brought you at his eye level, your arms anchoring behind his neck as he pushed his mouth to yours. “Thank you.” He said again, that feeling in his chest getting more and more urgent.

He would say it. Just… Not now.

He had plans.

He took the bowl and a spoon in his hand, the other one staying around your back, pulling you to the table with him. First he placed down the objects and then he sat, still holding your hand, tugging at it gently and making you sit across his lap.

You giggled and adjusted yourself, your forearm moving behind him and securing you to his back.

He pecked your temple and thanked for the food quickly before digging in, slurping loudly and devouring the whole meal in eager, large spoonfuls.

“No one’s stealing your food, baby, don’t eat too fast.” You said, worried as he paused for a moment, only to take a few breaths and dig in again, finishing the bowl.

He placed down the spoon and rubbed his belly, exhaling with a satisfied grin.

You smirked. “Would you like some more?”

He shook his head no. “I wanna shower.” He said, placing the spoon in the bowl and handing both to you; but before you could protest, thinking he was asking you to tidy up, he moved one arm under your knees, the other around your shoulders, picking you up bridal style.

“Guk, for goodness’ sake!” You shrieked, trying to secure yourself with one arm, the other holding the bow.

“Trust me,” He said, “I’ve got you.” He reassured you, stopping in front of the sink and helping you place the bowl down. Next, he made you sit on the counter, “I need both hands free for this,” he said, picking up the pot and covering it with its lid before placing it back inside the fridge.

He would deal with that later.

“Come here,” he called, standing between your legs and picking you up again, his hands pressed to the back of your thighs. You pushed your nose against the soft hair of his nape. “Where are we going?” You asked, curious.

“Shower.” He said, reaching the room and placing you down near the sink in the dim light coming in from the window. He looked at the saffron gleam of the streetlights landing on the floor, cutting a thin, long stripe landing at your feet.

He took a step forward and stood in it, his black shirt immediately absorbing the light with a curious pattern of shadows that seemed to offer small outlines of the taut, solid muscles underneath.

Jeongguk stood there, fascinated with the way you looked at him, almost ready to hide his face in his hands before you traced the line of his collarbone, then up his throat, until you reached the deep darkness enshrouding his mouth.

“Would you take off your shirt?” You asked, cupping his jaw.

He nodded. “In a second.” He said, staring some more.

He would have never believed he looked at you the same way you looked at him, weren’t it for the picture that had become his new desktop wallpaper a few hours ago. Jin had sent him a picture of the night Jungkook had introduced you to the boys, a week after the two of you had reunited. In the picture, you were talking with Jimin and Taehyung, the older leaning into you as he laughed hysterically while the younger looked at you like you had hung the very stars in the sky. Sitting on the sofa, you glanced up at Jeongguk as he stood behind you with his hands on your shoulders, a large grin on his face and the warmest feeling glittering in his eyes, his ears bright as your own lips opened up in a soft smile.

And now he stood in front of you and you were gorgeous. And he felt so in love.

So desperate to touch you.

But you looked like a vision, a mirage ready to disappear like his unsteady feelings; like that ugly, lying voice could come up any moment and make his doubt you and himself, making him believe that he was incapable of understanding true love, that he had been fooled once and it was sweet like this at the beginning until all there was left was barren land and bitter dust.

He took off his shirt. You moved away the hand on his face before you got tangled up, giving him space until his naked torso was right in front of you.

“You’ve been getting skinnier.” You said, placing your hands on his pectorals. “You’ve lost weight?” You asked, cupping his face again.

“It’s why I’m exercising. It was hard to keep a routine while I was gone.” He explained, placing his hands around your wrists and pushing them down. “Am I not strong enough? Fit enough?” He asked once your hands were resting on his pectorals.

Your thumbs circled his nipples, making them harden immediately. “No, baby.” You argued, a bit disappointed. “I’m saying I wouldn’t mind if you slowed down with the gym and ate a tiny bit more.” You replied. “I love you. I don’t care about your looks, but you’re all bones and muscles. I don’t mind the flesh.” You said, pinching his belly and finding only skin between your fingers. “I’m saying I don’t want you to be so hard on yourself.” You explained before your hands travelled to the ribbon of his sweats.

“You want me to put on some weight?” He asked, incredulous.

“I just want you to be healthy and eat enough food to match your workouts, and do anything you want with your body without feeling pressured. True Army will love you with or without abs.” You raked your nails across his taut abdomen. “And I don’t care as long as I get to touch you like this. Or kiss you here.” You said, following the shape of his cock with a finger.

He smiled and blushed — which you couldn’t see, considering the dark room. What you did feel was his sex twitching and hardening some more. He moaned weakly, his head falling forward and landing on your shoulder. “You mean you care only about blowing me?” He asked, his hips pushing against your palm, his hair tickling your neck and ear, making you arch away from his sinfully messy mop of hair.

You cupped him from over his sweats, massaging him slowly, gently. “Let’s say it’s a pretty important factor in our relationship.” You joked, nuzzling your nose against his head.

“Mh...” He commented meditatively. “How important compared to your love for me?” He asked, mouthing at the underside of your jaw, chuckling and teasing it with the vibrations of his voice clad in a deep rumble and the thick, teasing accent of his dialect.

“Mh… they’re neck and neck for factor number one.” You teased back, tracing his happy trail with your index finger.

“Neck and neck, you say...” He mused, nipping at your throat harshly, making you gasp. “Let’s see what happens if I take it away from you.” He wondered as he took a step away, out of your grasp.

You tried to keep touching him until he was too far for you to reach.

“Hands to yourself, babe.” He scolded as you licked your lips, looking at him as he switched on the soft led from the shower, lowering it to a soft dark red. “Promise me you’ll keep your naughty fingers at bay.” He asked, taking one step toward you.

You nodded eagerly, “I promise. Please.” You begged, placing your palms flat on your thighs and waiting for him to come closer. Once more he stood between your legs, his hands catching your wrists and bringing your arms behind your back, indirectly making your spine arch forward and push your breasts up.

He stared unashamed at your curves, barely visible over the large cotton blouse. “Keep your hands there.” He said, his fingers starting at your buttons. “My turn.” He said, undoing enough buttons to reach the lower hem of your bra, his hands sliding into the opening and cupping your breast from the lower, outer part, pressing them together and planting his face right in the crevasse, making you laugh at the drastic way he dove in.

“You good there, Guk?”

He nodded simply. “God, if you’re listening, this is a good moment to die.” He commented gingerly. “Let my girlfriend’s tits be the last thing I see before I pass.” He went on. “Amen.”

The laughter overtook you, your whole body wiggling with giggles. “Admit it, you love my tits way more than you love me.” You said before realising that the joke didn’t work both ways: even though you had confessed your feelings, he hadn’t done so with an actual declaration yet.

“Neck and neck.” He replied, letting his feelings implicitly show with ambiguous confessions.

He drew the upper curve of each breast with small kisses while his fingers worked the buttons left. The moment he reached the last one, he undid it and raised his head, looking you in the eye for the longest, slowest seconds in the history of the universe. His lips collided with yours, pressure building and building until you separated, galaxies of feelings and sensations blooming in both of you.

His hands pushed the blouse off your shoulders, letting it slide to your wrists. Next, he moved the straps of your bra off your shoulders kissing the slope of your neck and collarbone slowly and leisurely on the left side, before turning to the other side and parting his lips, letting half an inch of his tongue hang from his mouth and trace the ridge of your collarbone, his fingers undoing the clasp of your bra. The garment slid lower, your breasts heavier now without the support of the small cage. “Are they sore?” He asked, kissing you under your ear before moving his hands to your forearms, freeing you from the shirt.

“A bit. It was hot outside today.” You paused. “And my period’s close.” You added, hoping he didn’t get embarrassed by the small statement.

He stayed silent for half a minute. “How close?” He asked, moving your arm to your front so he could remove one strap, then focusing on the other one, baring your torso completely.

“It should be… four or five days away.” You said after making a quick count.

He nodded before cupping your face and kissing your mouth. “Do you need me to stock anything in the house?” He asked, parting from your face and looking you in the eye? “Sanitary products, comfort food, anything?” He asked, his gaze so soft and caring you felt a string of your heart snap and break.

“I have those at home.” You said, combing his hair away from his face, the red light making his eyes even more intense, his lips even more tempting.

“You won’t be here on the weekend?” He asked, suddenly hesitant. “I know we met today because I called you and normally you prefer staying at your place on weekdays and coming over for the weekend; but I thought that meeting today wouldn’t mean I wouldn’t have the weekend.” He said, confused and a little bit sad. Even with the dim lights you could see the disappointed look on his face.

“I thought that since I had my per—”

“It’s not like I wouldn’t want to cuddle and sleep with you. You know I—” love you. “I don’t want only sex.” He said, frowning.

You noticed he grew increasingly upset, his teeth torturing his lower lip.

Can’t you just fucking say it, Jeon Jeongguk, for goodness’ sake! His brain snapped at him, but his heart stayed guarded and wary.

“Come here.” You said, opening your arms, and letting him barricade himself into your embrace, your chest hot against his, the late summer night making both your and his skin clammy. “I know you care about me.” You said, your hand sliding into the long locks of his nape. “I’m not used to this, Guk. You know how we did this before you left.”

“This is not before I left. This is now.” He said, his voice so insecure. “I want everything. The cuddles and the sex and the feelings and… all of it. I want to be there for you. Always.” He said, raising up, towering over you as hegave up on the protection of your arms and offered you the safety of his own. “I want you to count on me. To trust me and tell me when something’s wrong. I want to support you and protect you.” He said, more and more determined. “I want to be the one you want when you had a stressful day and you need to talk. I want your problems too, ____. I want the ugly bits too. I don’t want you to choose the parts that you think I can handle and offer those alone.” He patted your head before making you look at him. “I want everything, Candy. Every damn thing, baby. The good, the bad and the in between.” He bent to your ear and closed his eyes, leaning into you, pressing his forehead to your temple. “Will you let me be there for you, baby, please?” He asked, begging, holding the crown of your head with one hand and your waist with the other.

You nodded, almost too emotional. “Yes.” You replied simply before he pressed you to his chest, where his heart beat so loud you thought he would get a heart attack.

He placed both hands on your waist lifting you off the counter and placing you with your feet on the floor. “Take off your trousers and panties, Candy.” He spoke softly as he watched your hands slide down your sides dragging the garments all the way to your ankles before stepping out of them. He placed them in the basket with the dirty laundry.

“Your sweats,” you said, trying to reach for the waistband.

“No,” he said, getting undressed by himself.

Just like that, you stood naked in front of each other, his eyes focused on your face, your gaze laced with his.

“You're so beautiful.” He whispered, cupping the side of your neck before letting his hand skim your chest, the plumpness on your breast, the sensitive curve of your waist, his palm stopping at your hip before his fingers sunk into your flesh, his eyes following his hand with unbreakable focus.

Gently, he tugged you toward the shower, making you stop before entering. “Let me get the temperature right.” He said, opening the tap and waiting a little before the water turned warm. You stared at him as he tested the spray and dove under, small rivulets rolling down his body, following the curve of his back, drenching his hair and rolling down his cheeks as he rubbed his face with his hands.

“Come, babe.” Jeongguk said, stretching his hand toward you.

Biting your lip, you took a few steps before he moved out of the spray, hugging you before he took a small step back, your and his body both under the water. You simply pressed your mouth to the base of his throat while his hands made sure that your hair got properly wet before he could wash them.

Your hands moved down his back, from his shoulder blades to the small of his back, until you managed to reach the full roundness of his ass, massaging it slowly, comfortably.

He snickered. “Are you comfy there?” He asked, just as his hands reached your own ass and squeezed it. “Does that feel good?”

You nodded, the sound of the water drowning your small moan. “Let me.” You said, turning around and rubbing at your hair, making sure it was soaked.

His hands followed the curves of your body capturing your heavy breasts in his palms. He took a deep breath before he stretched to reach his body wash, pouring some in his palm and foaming it up before spreading it over your skin, the scent of his soap filling the space.

The lights were making it even more intimate, with the red-to-black spectrum tinging the experience in a variety of tones of eroticism. First and foremost, the mildest but most difficult of them all: intimacy.

Jeongguk placed his hands on your waist, making you turn around. You were there, with your hair pushed back, your beautiful face completely exposed to his observing stare. He couldn’t hold your gaze.

He poured more shower gel on his palm and after it turned into a small handful of bubbles he bent down and divided it between his hands, bending down and washing your legs, until he knelt, washing your feet.

“Guk.” You called shyly.

He hummed in reply, just as he took a gentler soap meant for your intimate parts. He pumped a dollop on his hand and foamed it briskly before cupping your vulva delicately, focusing on the simple, affectionate task at hand, making sure to spread your labia as you parted your legs slightly to let him have access. He rubbed the palm slowly, lightly against your skin, not sparing the back, in between your ass cheeks, waiting for the water to rinse his hands and clean you fully.

He felt ready.

His hands cupped your hips, holding tight without his fingers digging in, all the pressure focused on his palms.

He kissed your belly button.

“I love you.” He almost whispered.

You were far too lost in sensations to be sure that he had actually said what you thought you had heard.

“What?” You asked, looking down at him.

He delivered another small kiss on your tummy and looked up. “I love you, ____.” He said, before smiling timidly.

“You love me?” You asked, incredulous.

“Yes. I love you, Candy. A whole damn lot.” He said, kissing a straight line from your belly to your pubic bone, stopping there. “I wanna… Can I… Can I taste you?” He asked, waiting on his knees, removing his hands and mouth from you, letting you choose freely.

You looked at him before your mouth opened in the happiest, widest smile you had ever given him. “I love you, you know that, right?” You told him, touching his face, combing his hair back.

He nodded. “I love you too.” He said, and the more he said that, the more his body felt how right, how true it was.

“You wanna eat me out?” You asked as he nodded furiously.

You lifted a leg, ready to place it on his shoulder when he sat on his hip, then turned with his back to you, laying flat on the floor, his head away from the water spray.

Your brow furrowed before he tucked his elbows next to his torso, his hands close to his face before he grinned and wiggled his fingers in a “come forth” motion.

“Uhm…” You wondered, confused for a brief moment, trying to understand if he really meant for you to ride his face, especially since you were both still trying to understand the whole cunnilingus discourse.

“Sit on my face?” He asked, his cheeks blushing — which fortunately you couldn’t see with the current lighting, he considered.

Your eyebrows shot up. “You sure?” You asked.

“Pretty sure, yes. If you want to, of course.” He replied.

Slowly you lowered yourself to your knees, his hands circling your waist and heading up, up, until he met your breasts, before heading down again, fixing your hips right against his lips.

“I’m gonna start now, Candy.” He warned you, “you can ask me to stop whenever you want to, baby.”

“Wait!” You called. “Is it okay if I blow you?” You asked, pretty sure that it would be good for your mind space if you dedicated yourself to his pleasure, easing the mental pressure you felt whenever someone went down on you. After all, Jeongguk had been the first to make you cum during oral sex, and even with him sometimes you struggled reaching your high.

“You want to sixty-nine?” He asked, trying to comfort you by lacing his fingers with yours.

“I wanna try?” You asked. “Maybe it all works better if I’m not thinking about it too much. I could use a…distraction?” You explained, doubtful.

“Okay, let’s give this a go.” He replied, completely oblivious that the simple movements of his mouth as he spoke against your crotch were making your hole drip in wetness.

“Okay then!” You slowly lowered yourself on your elbows, his lips going on a slow side-to-side motion before he opened his mouth, his upper lip pressing against your entrance while his lower one met the sensitive nerve endings of your clit, making you moan just as his tip entered your mouth, your hand cupping his balls and sliding upwards, until you could grip him as comfortably as you could.

He released a heavy breath, the hot air meeting the raw skin of your slit. Just as his tongue made its way between your labia, you bobbed your head a couple times, making him moan loudly, which made you moan in return.

The whole situation turned into a game where the more you received, the more you gave.

As you started sucking him, creating a vacuum effect with your cheeks, his hands gripped your ass, his lips wrapping around your left labium, pumping it with his cheeks into his mouth, just past his teeth, that grazed it perfectly, alternating the softness of his lips and tongue with the hard edge of his teeth, making blood pool in the sensitive tissue. Meanwhile, on his lap, you were drooling all over him, pumping him with your fist as you started losing focus. “Guk.” You called.

He simply hummed and switched to the other side.

Yes, he was dedicated like that.

“Gu— Oh, yes, love, like that, baby, just like that.” You said as you felt his hands direct your hips in a grinding motion, your mouth returning between his legs out of sheer gratitude.

He moaned again, his eyelids fluttering with pleasure as you pushed his soft head to the back of your mouth, bobbing your head a few times before your hand started fondling his balls with your palm, twisting your wrist and using the pad of your thumb to tease the delicate spot between his balls and his anus.

He released your labium. “Candy. Fuck, baby, yeah, that a… I— I really like your finger there, baby.” He said, swallowing loudly before flicking the tip of his tongue repeatedly against your clit, spanking your ass brusquely before he gave a few strong pumps to your most sensitive spot.

You released his cock, letting it snap back to his belly and speaking against his shaft. “Please… Guk. Too good, love—” Your hips began to gyrate on him, his hands leading you, keeping your movements controlled so that he didn’t lose his grip between your legs. Holding his tongue rigid and still, he pushed the tip to the underside of your clit, dragging it up and exposing the most sensitive nerves, usually protected by the hood and way too sensitive for direct stimulation. Which is exactly why after two minutes your body stilled before starting to shake uncontrollably with effort, your whole universe silent, holding its breath before your lips opened in a high pitched, incoherent cry that announced your orgasm and predicted your reckless, ruthless movements on top of Jeongguk.

He took everything in.

Every small thing.

He kept moving his tongue even as it cramped, slapping your ass shamelessly, violently, spurring you into a wilder, more desperate pace as you — completely oblivious to your raw knees — rode him with a passion, pulling him into your mouth once more to quiet down your moans.

You felt your legs shake even more as his hips started pushing into your mouth, his long hums turning into short, deep groans and whimpers.

Just as you felt his balls tighten, you drew away, making him whine and arch his hips toward you.

“Please…” He called, his voice so, so miserable and pleading.

“You want your orgasm?” You asked, voice sultry.

You precisely knew what you wanted. And you had very clear plans on how to get it just right.

You looked right in front of you, at the small bathroom carpet laying just outside the shower, ready for you to dry your feet. Your escape route was bright and clear in front of your eyes.

“Does it feel nice?” You asked, un-straddling his face, acting as if you had each and every intention to bring him to the very edge and watch him dissolve.

“Please, Candy...” He cried, his hips undulating hypnotically.

“You wanna cum?” You cooed cutely.

He nodded eagerly. “Yeah… Please.”

You stopped. “Then come get me, bunny boy.” You grinned and stood, exiting the shower with a long step, shaking the water off your body as you rubbed your feet against the carpet a few times, before dashing for the door.

Alone, he opened his eyes and raised his head, looking around. “Candy?” He called again.

No sign.

He shook his head and stood up, his erection painful and uncomfortable as he closed the tap and walked out of the shower, drying his feet harshly as he switched off the bathroom lights and exited the room, looking around, spotting a trail of droplets on the floor.

He sneered and swore, staring at his hard on and clenching his jaw as he walked down the corridor with quick, long steps.

He found you as you tried to hide in the walk-in closet, almost sure you were unfollowed the moment you moved on all fours and tried to crawl under a lower shelf.

Jeongguk smirked, the scene disgustingly hilarious to him as he grabbed your hips and pulled you out of your hiding spot.

“That’s your plan?” He asked just as you tried to wiggle out of his grip.

His fingers dug into your waist, grabbing you even harder as he dragged you away from the shelf, where you could hit your head.

“You’re ridiculous.” He said, putting you on your feet before he turned you around and hoisted you over his shoulder, spanking you unceremoniously. “Running on wobbly legs.” He spanked you again. “Leaving a pretty trail of water leading me right here.” Another spank. “I thought I had taught you better than this.” He said, offering you some mercy and biting your leg instead of smacking your ass.

Your world was very unstable as he began walking you to his bedroom. He threw you on the mattress and switched on the led light behind the headboard. Again your view became nothing but the sultriest black and red.

“You wanted to make me angry?” He asked, looking you in the eye as he climbed on top of you, spreading your legs and sitting in between before both his arms caged your head.

His chest, wet and toned, was right before your eyes, moving with the fury of a wild beast. He grabbed your chin and led your gaze upward, into his. “I said, you wanted to make me angry?” He repeated.

You nodded.

“You wanted to make me snap?” He asked again, grabbing your face, making your lips turn into a silly pout.

You nodded once more. “I am—”

“I’ll tell you what you are.” He said, getting off you, opening his drawer and taking out a towel and a plastic bottle, which he placed on the bedside table before he lifted your legs with one arm and laid the towel down with the other.

You stayed silent as he took his time.

“You are a ridiculous little fuckdoll.” He stated clearly, no lips, no stutter, no hesitation whatsoever. “You are my dumb little fuckdoll,” he went on opening the bottle and letting a heavy amount of lube draw a line from the base to the tip as he held his cock away from his belly with his thumb and forefinger running around the glans. He spread the slick liquid with his palm, sliding it up and down as he hissed. “You always need to act like a dumb brat to make me fuck you like a slut.” The moment he leaned over you and poured some lube on your cunt too, you knew you were in for a long night. He closed the lid of the bottle but kept it nearby, in case he needed more.

You were close to your period, and once you had mentioned that you had some issues getting wet because of hormones changing. He was glad you gave him that kind of notions too. He had so much to learn still.

“You want me to fuck you hard?” He asked, spreading the wetness between your legs.

You nodded wordlessly.

“Not so wordy anymore, are we?” He said, cocking an eyebrow.

“Please, Guk.” You whimpered.

“That’s my little slut. You need to be fucked, uh?” He asked again, making you beg for him.

“Jeongguk, please.” You called again, pleading for his cock inside you.

“She even says ‘please’. Aren’t you desperate?” He asked, rubbing his tip up and down your slit.

“Yes, I’m your desperate doll. I’m begging… Please—” You whimpered, opening your legs as far as they would go.

He tutted and snarled. “Oh no. You’re not my desperate doll. You’re my desperate fuckdoll.” He said with a smirk. “Say it.”

“I’m your desperate fuckdoll.” You repeated with a thin voice.

He nodded “That’s right,” he replied, rewarding you with the tip of his cock as he swore and let it stay inside you, helping you get used to it — still, he grit his teeth, his deltoids and trapezei bulging with the effort. His tattooed hand held his cock to your entrance, covered in slick, helping you as he fed you a small inch at a time.

The moment he looked up at you, you noticed the lack of harshness in his eyes. “Are you okay, Candy?” He asked just as you hissed out a ‘yes’, closing your eyes and biting your lower lip. “Can I move?” He asked again, at which you nodded energetically. He giggled. “I love you, bae.” He concluded, making you whisper a brief ‘love you’ in reply before his bad boy persona came back into play.

“So you want it hard, uh?” He asked, feeling his cock already pulsate inside you.

“Yes, hard and fast, Guk. Please. I’m your fuckdoll. Do me like your little cocksleeve, please.” You begged, whiny and weak.

“Like my cocksleeve?” He said, rolling his hips twice before he pulled out. His hand drew away from his sex and moved to your mouth, laying there gently. “Cocksleeves don’t make a sound.” He leaned towards your ear. “So you’d better stay quiet.”

Your eyes blew wide as you bit your lip and furrowed your brow, his cock sinking in your flesh so hard that the smash echoed through every single organ inside your body.

You laid there and admired him as he fucked himself inside you, biting his lower lip and releasing it slowly, letting it roll and snap forward, past his teeth. He switched his position, leaning on his hand rather than on his elbow, arching even further, spreading his legs wider, propping his weight on his knees for better leverage, using his thighs to push your legs further apart as his eyes closed, chilly droplets of water falling on your face and your chest as he hammered into you, the tendons of his neck growing taut, his veins pulsing and growing and showing even in the dim red light.

Your high was there, right there, right…

Jeongguk roared, loud and aggressive and so, so angry that he sat on his heels and gripped your hips, shoving you on his length on and on, his hips meeting your body with loud smacks as he released inside you.

“No, no no. No, please no, please—” you begged as you felt him slow down, “So… close…” You sobbed as he stopped entirely.

He placed you down on the mattress. “Oh, no...” He said with faux compassion. “Poor cocksleeve.” He said with a sadistic grin, his smirk almost demonic in the crimson light.

He caged you with his body, his arms bulky and delicious at each side of your head, several rivulets of water — or maybe sweat — sliding down his face and chest. “Cocksleeves don’t get to cum, do they?” He asked rhetorically.

You whimpered and tried to squeeze him with your inner muscles.

“Or maybe I could be generous… Offer you another round…” He wondered, kissing your lips. “Would you like that?” He asked.

“Please. So close,” you whispered, chasing his mouth with yours.

He stretched and grabbed his pillow from the headboard, sliding an arm under your hips and lifting them up, placing the pillow right under your ass. “Do you need more lube, Candy?” He checked in on you, at which you shook your head.

“I just need you inside.” You replied miserably.

He pouted and got in position, cupping your jaw and sliding his thumb in your mouth. “Take it,” he said, his right hand pushing his cock in, only barely softened. Once he sank in and gave two tentative rolls of his hips, any sort of softness disappeared.

“Like this?” He asked, his nose curled adorably and sexily at the same time as his face scrunched at the effort of slow, deep thrusts.

You purred and shook your head. “Faster, harder… please.” You moaned before he started going even slower.

He chuckled. “What do I get in exchange for it?”

You opened your eyes and bit into his arm delicately. “Please,” you pleaded again. “I’m—” A tear rolled down your face. “It’s too good, let me cum, please, I love you. I’m your fuckdoll, Guk, please let me— I’ll be so tight around you, I’ll milk your cock so good, let me cum.”

He loved when you grew wobbly-lipped and teary-eyed. He loved seeing how desperate you always were for him, how much you depended on him for your pleasure.

He collected one of your tears with his lips, “are you crying for my cock?” He asked, wicked as usual.

You shook your head yes. “More, I’m begging you, Jeongguk. I’m begging you. I’m…” In an act of pettiness, you turned completely quiet, trying to rebel against him and his oversized ego. Self-sufficiently, your hands went to your boobs, grabbing them, pinching your nipples, sometimes climbing up to your throat and pressing against it softly.

He swatted your hand away, bending his mouth to your breast, tugging and suckling at your nipple messily, just as his arm grabbed your right knee and hooked it at his elbow, pushing your leg up, the angle so irresistible that your high finally peeked from around the corner. Still you stayed silent — mouth open, but quiet.

“Candy?” He called, curious about your sudden lack of noise.

You furrowed your brow and looked at him.

He tutted at himself. “Hard and fast?” He asked again.

You didn’t react. He rolled his hips deeper, hitting the spot you loved so much. Another tear spilled from your eye, but you proudly kept your stoic approach.

He smirked and started going faster, now that he had found the spot.

A small hiccup escaped your mouth.

“There we go, Candy.” He said, finally sure of his decision as he started pounding into you with everything he had in himself. “Touch your boobs, Candy.” He suggested as he saw you grow closer and closer. “So messy for this cock, uh? Whose is the best cock, Candy?”

“Yours.” You sobbed, your hips beginning to stutter, trying to meet his thrusts but too weak and sensitive for that.

“That’s right. You love this cock, Candy, don’t you?” He asked again.

“Only yours. I do, yes, please, Guk. Jeong— Guk, please I—” Your body thrashed against his as your orgasm finally caught you and drew you under.

Jeongguk’s head dove for your breastbone, pressing there as he tried to resist your high, currently threatening to drag him with itself.

As your climax persevered, he pushed your leg over his shoulder, picking up the other one too, sinking so deep with the new angle, his mouth kissing your calf, the inner side of your knee. “Is it good enough, baby?” He asked as he saw your eyes slowly flutter open.

Fuck, his jaw line was impeccable with that angle. “It’s perfect, Guk.”

“Nice, can you take another round, love?” He asked and damn, that nickname made you say yes, yes, ten thousand times yes with no hesitation.

He pushed his thumb in your mouth, against your tongue.

“I need to touch you.” He said, watching as his finger emerged drenched from your lips, immediately bringing it to your clit.

“Can you lift your ass?” He asked right as you obeyed, the angle so deep that he slowed down specifically to make sure he could guarantee you one more orgasm before he achieved his own.

His thumb replicated the motion of his tongue earlier in the shower, teasing the tender underside of your clit just as your eyes closed—

Too intense. Too much, you thought as your breathing slowed down again, your whole body focused on your kegels.

“Give me another… Work your magic, cockfairy.” He teased as your lips parted, your eyes flashing open before slowly, messily crossing and sliding shut again, your body too confused and overwhelmed to give a verbal reaction.

Jeongguk kept going, so, so close, his hips digging deeper with tiny rolls focused on staying in, enjoying every tight squeeze you had to offer, your hands leaving your breast as you tried to slap his hand away from your clit while his teeth began teasing your calf on one side, his deep moans unstoppable even when he turned to the other side and actually nibbled on your leg, his hand persistent in his torture.

“No. Oh god! Please. No! Oh— I need to— Yeah, yes...” You hissed as Jeongguk finally crumbled against your body and delivered the last few thrusts, deep, slow, so destructive as your head tipped back, your final high too much for your body to handle.

He looked down, where your bodies joined and with a loud growl, he came apart and spilled inside you, his cock swelling intermittently for so long he almost worried at some point. But the softness of your breasts, pillowing his head, and the warmth of your breath fanning over his head, your legs sliding off his shoulders, to his waist while your arms circled his back. “I love you, Candy. So damn much. I’m so in love with you baby.” He repeated on and on, trying to make up for each slur, each degrading word and idea he had used against you.

“I love you, baby.” He repeated again. “I love every little thing of you.” He kissed your breast — even though he truly aimed at the heart beating underneath. “I don’t want just the sex. You get it now?” He asked, nuzzling his hair against your bosom.

You caressed his head fondly.

“I get it now, of course, love.” You reassured him.

“You’ll lean on me, right? You’ll count on me?” He asked insecure, afraid at how many things he still had to learn about adult, mature relationships.

“I’ll lean on you. We’ll lean on each other.” You said, kissing his forehead as he raised his head.

“We didn’t finish the shower…” He mused, pulling out of your entrance carefully, staring as his seed dripped out of you and down your thigh.

You looked at his mesmerised expression.

He bit his lip before releasing it with a snap. “Fuck, you’re dripping.” He said before looking up.

And you don’t know if it was for the hot sight of his tattooed arm flexing, for his mop of damp long curls, for his wide, taut pectorals, for his lips glistening in drool or the dark lust in his eyes as he saw the mixture of his seed and your wetness oozing from your cunt, but you decided you were far from having enough.

“Didn’t they teach you to clean after yourself?” You teased with a cocked eyebrow.

His eyes climbed all the way to your gaze, finding the silent permission he was looking for.

And he dove for your cunt like a starving wolf.

#bangtanhq #thetruthuntoldnet #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x yn

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imagine-loki · 4 years

Text

Atlas: Space, Neptune

TITLE: Atlas: Space

CHAPTER NO./ONE-SHOT: 10/12

AUTHOR: fanfictrashdump

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine narrating episodes of Loki’s life with the Avengers based on the songs from Sleeping At Last’s “Atlas: Space” album.

RATING: T-M

NOTES/WARNINGS: Welcome to my Sleeping At Last’s Atlas: Space challenge, aka Another writing project I do not have time for, but my brain insisted on doing.

This series will be less like a multichapter fic and more of a one-shot compendium, but that they all interconnect in one way or another. It will revolve around Loki and Becca’s relationship (Taking Turns, Glow, Helmet Heists–don’t worry, more Loki-Charlie stuff will be along) and I will use those one-shots as reference to the timeline. Each chapter will be one song, used as inspiration for the story.

Chapter 10: Neptune

Summary: Loki and Becca have decided to discuss the last decade of their lives without each other. Loki finds that his absence has done much more harm than he intended, but he vows to make amends. (Immediately after Glow.)

Warnings include: Language, mentions of suicide, disease, cancer, implied smut, angst but ends well?

Pitch black, pale blue It was a stained glass Variation of the truth And I felt empty handed

They were meant to be taking turns, telling each other what had happened in that stretch of years since they had last met. He truly wanted to tell Rebecca of every detail she had missed due to his self-imposed exile, but the second the coffee, eggs, and toast hit the table, they both felt eerily silent. Loki stared at the black liquid swirling in his mug, tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Despite the growing discomfort, his eyes inevitably pulled to her. Even after all this time, the very sight of her, as different as it was now, made his heart stutter. It immediately morphed into a constricting pain in his chest, forcing him to clear his throat awkwardly.

You let me set sail With cheap wood So I patched up Every leak that I could ’til the blame grew too heavy

Could he tell her the truth?

Sure, she deserved it. More than anything–the jewels and vast empires he wanted to gift her–she deserved the truth. Could he tell her that he had run just because he was afraid? What kind of monster would that make him? Especially now that he knew how much she had hurt in his absence. It felt like such an empty excuse now–perhaps it always was. Through the dip in her v-neck long-sleeve shirt, he could spy a glossy scar, perfectly round, beneath her collarbone. He felt a momentary compulsion to brush his fingers against the shiny skin, but he closed his hands around his mug.

Stitch by stitch, I tear apart If brokenness is a form of art I must be a poster child prodigy Thread by thread, I come apart If brokenness is a work of art Surely this must be my masterpiece

“Stop looking at me like that, for fuck’s sake,” she breathed out, teeth grit painfully tight. Loki blinked forcefully, and he almost asked what she meant before she interrupted. “Like you’re wondering whether or not I’m broken. I think you know I am.”

“No! I–” He stopped when she gave him a withering look for lying. “I’m sorry. It’s taking longer than I thought to reconcile seeing you…so different. It–”

Her face hardened, an expression that he was so unfamiliar with that it startled him. His own softened in response. “I did what I could with what I had. With who I had because I did not have the luxury to go off on some stupid space adventure–”

“I’m sorry. I will beg you on my knees until my dying breath for you to forgive me, but I can’t change any of that, Becca.” He growled at himself, taking a deep breath and staring upwards to get the prickling tears in his eyes under control. “Please, just eat your breakfast.”

“I’m not very hungry,” she replied, pushing her plate away.

“Rebecca,” he warned gently and she scoffed.

“You don’t get to do that, Loki.” She curled up in her seat, drawing her knees to her chest, protecting herself. “Coming back doesn’t give you an automatic pass. It doesn’t put us right back to where we left off.” Outside, the weather had taken its cues from her mood, and the window darkened with storm clouds.

I’m only honest when it rains If I time it right, the thunder breaks When I open my mouth I want to tell you, but I don’t know how

“I know. I am sorry. I am trying. I swear to you I am trying to figure out how to tell you that I am a shit individual and that I wish I could take back every single second that I wasn’t here. This wasn’t what I wanted for you. This was never–”

The tears finally won over, coming down his cheeks, unhindered, as he silently willed her to take a bite of toast, of eggs, anything. He clenched his eyes shut, head hanging low. His eyes had spied more shiny bits of skin, but these made his blood run cold.

“What are those scars?”

The way he asked the question left out any doubt of him knowing exactly what they were. He didn’t even need to watch her to know she had shifted her arms inwards.

I’m only honest when it rains An open book with a torn out page And my ink’s run out I want to love you, but I don’t know how

I don’t know how No, I don’t know how I don’t know how I want to love you, but I don’t know how

I want to love you…

“Desperation,” she answered after a long, long silence. “I didn’t have a Bifrost handy.”

She offered him a tight-lipped smile when his eyes shot up. It wasn’t like he didn’t already know, but the confirmation hurt all the same. He had been honest with her about his inner turmoil after he discovered he was adopted. It wasn’t a secret that he had let go of his adoptive father’s spear without a second thought. Becca had been so angry to learn that he felt like there was nothing else to do but fall into the abyss. He now understood that rage.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

Becca snorted. “It’s kind of a one-person job, Lo.”

“That’s not funny!” He roared, landing his fist on the table hard enough to make the flatware rattle.

“You’re right. You’re right. It would’ve been a joke if I had said I needed a better supervisor to finish the job,” she riposted, deadpan.

His hand clenched around his coffee mug, almost debating if it was worth it to throw it against the wall so that it would relieve some of his tension, but deciding against it. He hurriedly swallowed a sip that scalded all the way to his stomach.

“I don’t know why you’re upset. You wanted to know what happened. That’s what happened. I worked, alone. I mourned your death. I got sick. I got carved up like a roast. I was sick while still being sick. I didn’t want to do it, anymore. I did something about it. I failed. Now you’re here. And I am glad, but loving you doesn’t make anything else any less real and it doesn’t make me any less angry.”

Her words felt like a weight upon his chest, threatening to crack it open.

“How can you still love me?” Loki’s voice was small and shaky.

That was the real question, wasn’t it? How could she even harbor indifference for him after his abandonment. He didn’t deserve her light, her kindness, her well-placed rage.

“I don’t know.”

Pitch black, pale blue These wild oceans Shake what’s left of me loose Just to hear me cry mercy

A strong wind at my back So I lift up the only sail that I have This tired white flag

The dam broke. A sob wrenched her chest and she lowered her head to her hands, fingers pulling at the short tresses in what had to be a painful way. “I don’t know,” she repeated. “None of this makes sense, but we never made sense, did we?”

Loki finally moved out of his seat, taking a knee in front of her and tracing shapes on her knees over her plaid pajama bottoms. “That’s not quite true, is it? You and I always clicked rather well, despite how much of a bad idea that was.”

“There’s not much left of me, nowadays, to click to anything.”

“I’ll give you every piece you need to be whole, again,” he assured. “Every molecule of me is already on borrowed time and I will give every instant to you if it’ll make you smile–”

Becca covered his mouth with her hand, which she dropped once he nodded in agreement of his silence. “I can’t live with promises, anymore. Don’t promise me a thing–”

“But–”

“Loki. A promise is worth nothing if you don’t follow through.”

“I swore to you that I would stay until you demand I leave.” He swallowed thickly and breathed deep. “I know I said that before, but I was an idiot, too scared to lose you, too scared of his own demons to love you as you deserved.” He settled back on his haunches, giving her space to breathe. “I am here for you, body, heart and soul. I surrender to you and only you. This is the only place I want to be, Becca.”

With a sniffle, she joined him on the floor, slipping into his arms to hug his middle. She shuddered at the familiarity of his touch, slightly cool, and smelling like pine and cinnamon.

Loki tentatively lowered his lips to hers, tasting the few sips of bitter coffee on her tongue. His body knew how to navigate far before his mind had even caught up to what was occurring. He sought to comfort her frantic nerves, hanging by the barest threads, soothe her mind and ease her burden. Lips trailed down her jaw until they reached her neck, where they settled against her pulse and nipped. When his fingers itched at the hem of her shirt, she stopped him with a hand around his wrist.

“I apologize. I moved too fast,” he panted, moving a fraction back to look at her face. A flash of lightning illuminated her face in an eerie glow.

I don’t know how, know how, know how I want to love you, but I don’t know how

I want to love you…

A dark shadow crossed her expression. “No, it’s not that.” He prompted her to continue with a nod. “I’m not the same.” He opened his mouth to protest, but she shook her head as a deterrent. “It’s not the weight, it's…”

He frowned, catching the hem of her shirt. He raised his eyebrows, silently asking for permission. Becca simply looked away, clenching her eyes shut. Loki slowly hitched her t-shirt up, ignoring the sight of her ribs, sticking out awkwardly, knowing he could remedy that easily enough, and soared past until reaching two large scars on her chest just below her now mutilated breasts.

“Who did this to you?”

Becca clenched her eyes tighter. This was clearly one of those things she did not want to talk about, but he wanted–needed–to know. “I got sick again,” she repeated for what she felt was the millionth time that day. “They had to…”

“Cancer?” He asked, breathlessly, his fingers tracing over her scars with a featherlight touch. He was familiar with the Midgardian disease, though he had not met anyone to suffer it, firsthand. She nodded her assent, jerkily. “Again? What do you mean, again?” Holding her breath, she leaned back, pulling her bottoms down just enough to show him the scar between her hips. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when–”

“You were dead,” she said as way of excuse.

“I still heard your pain,” he admitted, swathing her skin with his hands. She only looked half surprised. “I was meant for Valhalla and through the darkness I heard you, and all I wanted was to reach you.” He pressed his forehead against hers.

“You did.”

“Much too late, dove.” He cursed under his breath, for what felt like the millionth time. “I should have stayed. I could have helped, anything.” When he couldn’t bare the what ifs any longer, he kissed her again, pulling her body into his. “I intend to make amends,” he husked, attacking her neck with renewed fervor, forcing a groan from Becca’s mouth. Her brief hesitation was short-lived as she wrapped her legs around his waist and he lowered them both to the floor.

“Thank you,” she murmured as the lay naked and panting on the floor some time later. “For not freaking out.”

“Why would I? I get to discover every inch of you all over again,” he replied, smiling contentedly, fingers idly brushing the scar over her womb in a way that made her shiver.

“Same.” She tapped a scar over his chest with her index. “What happened there?”

“That’s a long story,” he sighed, resting his head on her chest to listen to the steady thumping of her heart.

“We have time.”

“That we do.” He smiled, realized the implication of the phrase. He was to stay. “Well, it started with my oaf of a brother…”

#Loki #Lover #Angst #Others #Submitted fic #submission #Fanfictrashdump #chapter 10 #atlas space #neptune

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poipoipoi-2016 · 4 years

Text

So you’ve decided you want to walk across the Grand Canyon

@dwelling-abode pinged me, and I ranted enough I’m just going to make this a post

3 parts:

The Hike itself and why it sucks

The warnings

The walkthrough

The gear you’re going to use to make it suck less and also not die

The fitness you need to be in to not die

I apologize to all the mobile people for whom this is a wall of text.

The hike:

Two variations:

1) Rim-to-Rim aka North Kaibab to Bright Angel. I did this. 1 day down, 2 days up.

2) South Kaibab to Bright Angel off the South Rim

First thing you should notice: There is no water on South Kaibab. There is no purified water source between Cottonwood and Bright Angel (Well, er, Phantom Ranch) which is the longest, hottest, most exposed portion of the trip. You are coming up Bright Angel.

The other thing you should notice: 1000 feet is 600 miles, this is the rough equivalent weather-wise of walking from Calgary to Phoenix to Minneapolis. On a good day, your downhill day has a 60 degree temperature differential.

This in turn enforces a very hard cutoff in terms of when it’s physically possible to do this, namely about 2 weeks in early October when the North Rim is open and it *might* not be 100+ degrees at the bottom. Key word might. I did it on the last possible day (No seriously, I flew my grandmother out to spend 4 days driving the car around), and it was 92.

If you’ve never done serious exertion, 55 is t-shirt weather, I mean this.

If you do it in June/July/August/early September, you will die. There is no safe way to do this (Read: Any) level of physical activity in the desert in those temps.

So let’s walkthrough the hike.

The first mile and a half down to Supai is a boring series of switchbacks down through a pine forest. Poor visibility because of the trees, boring yellow/grey rock, just do it. Weather-wise, it went from 30 to 60 in the space of about 2 hours, if you brought a jacket, it’s in the backpack by now.

Then you get to the tunnel. If your less... energetic... companions want to come down a little bit, this is the spot they gawk and turn around. There is a water supply, but it was covered in wasps, so don’t count on it running. Probably 60-90 minutes down, 2-3 hours back up.

The rock turns red, the pines get replaced by high desert scrub, it’s really the first open view of the next few miles of the hike and the light’s come around *just* far enough that it’s down into the canyon, but it’s still good light.

Broadly speaking, you’re switchbacking down the left wall to the bridge, over the bridge, then down the right wall until you hit the bottom of that far wall.

About halfway down, the red rock converts into the red-gray rock, and the trail becomes a dynamited cut into the sheer rock wall. If you’re afraid of heights... enjoy! Seriously, it’s freaky. There is a tree in this picture.

It’s another 15-20 degrees hotter (80... It was 30 4 hours and 3000 feet ago), and the sheer rock walls largely conceal the transition from the pictured scrub to actual desert.

At Roaring Springs, the red rock ends and you get this off-green shale in eroded piles. The trail flattens out, opens up, and goes another half mile down to the pumphouse. This was my first working water supply! It is 11:37AM. I have been walking for 4.5 hours, 6 miles, and I have another 8 hot, flat miles to go.

At this point, you merge with Bright Angel Creek. This is the worst part of the trip. ~5 miles of open terrain through the desert on a hot, hot day. Another mile up is Cottonwood, the last water supply until Phantom. Drain your water now, and refill completely. Drink, drink, drink.

About 2 miles up is the Ribbon Falls side trail. Unfortunately, the bridge was out and I really did not feel like going up to the ford, fording the creek and doubling back while carrying this much gear. This was a good choice, since I barely made it by dark. In October, I doubt it’s really running tbh.

So 5 miles rambling through the desert as the red side cliffs get higher and higher, you get lower and lower, and the day gets hotter and hotter.

And finally, at last, 11 miles of walking in, you hit the box canyon. Blessed shade. 3 miles of increasingly tired cornering later, there’s a side hike to Phantom Overlook, 1000 feet straight up, but I was running out of both light and leg strength, so I passed on this. If you’re coming down South Kaibab, you have 5-6 hours to kill, so go explore the box canyon. It’s seriously cool, and you’ll never be back here again.

Go to Phantom Ranch or Bright Angel Campground, check in, drop your bags, run run run down to the river for sunset at the black bridge. Stay there until dark, then use your headlamp to get back.

Variant: There’s a variant I’d love to do where I manage to get Cottonwood permits as well, and then do both Ribbon Falls and Phantom Overlook as Day 2 with some more time at Phantom Ranch. That’s about 7 down slow on the first day, a relaxing early sleep, ~11 (and ~4000 feet of elevation gain/loss nervous_monkey_puppet.jpg) on Day 2, then 2 easy 9-mile days on the climb with dead legs.

Note: I stayed in the cabins and got 2 hours of sleep. Preferably, you should just do Bright Angel Campground. Lows of 70 are perfectly fine for sleeping.

Day 2:

Wake up. Walk down to the river, cross... either of the bridges are fine really, black bridge is a slight detour, but ideally this is a short day, adding a mile won’t hurt. I must admit to being moderately curious about the south side trail from black to gray bridge.

Two miles running up and along a cliffside trail to the base of Polk Creek.

Looks like this, that’s a cell phone camera, enjoy.

You’re still pretty low, but also desert morning, shade, and the river being a giant heatsink. Then you start the climb out. 1500 feet up to Indian Garden, probably 80% of that climb is a 2-mile stretch of switchbacks. Lovely red and yellow rock.

The last mile or two before the campground are flat, exposed to the sun, and still low enough it’s hot hot hot. 80′s are expected.

And then you finally get to the campground (Trees, shade, toilets, first actual real water supply since Phantom!). At this point, either:

1) Congrats, you have a campground! Set up camp, rest, relax, maybe make a Plateau Point (2 miles, 1 hour each way, perfectly flat the whole way) run.

2) If you��re really fast and have 2 hours/4 miles of buffer in your legs (Iffy, 14 mile day up a 4400 foot cliff), also make a Plateau Point run. It’s not very pretty at 2:00 in the afternoon, so really don’t feel bad for skipping.

3) Stare in sheer horror at the 3000 foot cliff that has finally become visible in front of you, and cry inside.

You are a third of the way up.

I wasn’t feeling so good, so I went to bed early. The sun goes down at 6:00 by the way, and it’s so dark you’ll just conk out.

Day 3:

So I woke up at 4AM, made a sunrise Plateau Point run (DO THIS) with my tripod, and then headed back. Packed up the campground, started up about 9:00 or so?

This is ideal. You’re headed right up the middle of a crack in the rock, and if you do it this way, you’re making the climb in 60 degree weather in the shade pretty much until the top. If you took Option #2 or #3 yesterday, the sun comes around, and you’re doing the climb in 75 degree weather in the sun.

There’s not really much here. It is exactly a 5 mile, 3000 foot climb with 2 intermediate water supplies split every 1000 feet on 2/1.5/1.5 mile splits. 3 mile resthouse has a decent view. The most exciting thing past that is the red/yellow line in the rock, and if you do this early enough, the sun will be on that wall. This took me about 4.5 hours.

The hike until now has been a 2.5-day test of your ankles. Downhill, uneven ground, drop-offs, etc. This is a sheer test of your quad strength and cardio. Especially as you get closer to 8K feet. “Officially”, I burned 6200, 4300, 6200 calories across the 3 days.

The most encouraging thing is seeing the increasingly “tourist” nature of your hiking companions since the serious hikers have proper gear and the less serious ones... do not. So if you’re watching some little 4 year old kid in Converse, you’re probably not *that* far from the top.

At the top, stay as close to the Rim as possible. My ankle gave out the second I got to the top, and I had to hobble half a mile to my hotel. God help me if there was a shuttle ride or a longer walk.

Shower, relax, massage some feeling back into your feet, change clothing if you brought extra, THEN meet up with your family members. And then I was bored, so for sunset, I went around and grabbed this shot of the trail.

Gear that will keep you from death:

Satellite comms:

Garmin satellite comms ($350 for the Inreach Mini + more $$$$ for the actual plan) https://www.rei.com/product/140110/garmin-inreach-mini-2-way-satellite-communicator

I upgraded to the good plan that lets you send infinite random texts (~10 minute delay), and didn’t regret it. But you need a Panic button that works. There’s pretty good connectivity, you don’t need one of the $1000 beacons they use in slot canyons, and the cheaper competitors don’t.... actually work.

Invest in a Garmin. Set it up. TEST IT BEFORE YOU LEAVE. Make sure your relatives know how to contact you over the satellite comms, and that your texts will arrive from some random number.

Hiking gear:

Fitted Backpack with both good chest and hip straps and an internal support structure ($2-400)

I’ve been ecstatically happy with my 70L Osprey (Aether?), I also have a 24-inch torso.

They make different ones for men and women, because the men’s ones put the chest strap straight across the nipples. You actually care about that.

Carbon Fiber Hiking Poles tested and fitted ($300)

Get you down steps, get you across rivers, provide support on pushes up, get weight off the ankles.

Protip: 5cm too long on downhills, 5cm too short on uphills.

Good boots/shoes ($150-$300)

There’s an inherent tradeoff between ankle support and weight in the boots. Personally, for a through-hiker with serious gear, I’d go with mid-rise boots

If you were doing a true Rim-to-Rim, they all use trail runners even when they’re not running it.

Good Boot Socks

Merino Wool is a must, I really like Darn Tough thick boot socks.

Moisture-wicking underwear

Merino Wool is acceptable

Carbon Fiber is light, you actually care about every ounce.

Related: You’re about to spend 3 days in the same clothing, it will smell. Merino at least makes it smell better and handles the moisture acceptably.

Anti-heat gear:

A good sweat-wicking wide-brim hat with holes in the outer band (The name brand is Tilly for $80, I think mine was about $40?)

Good, tough, not too hot hiking pants ($60/pair?)

Ripping is bad, extra pockets are good.

I use these, note the water resistance and also two pockets, one per leg, with horizontal zippers so you can reach straight down and things can’t fall out of your pockets.

Some people use those convertible shorts, I’ve never liked the zippers myself.

Good moisture-wicking t-shirts, or even better polo shirts ($40)

Polo shirts let you pop your collar and cover your entire neck.

Moisture-wicking keeps you alive when it’s 95.

SPEND MONEY. It’s a $40 t-shirt, you just need one, SPEND THE MONEY.

Light jacket for cold mornings

Consumables:

At least one water bottle and 1 3L Osprey water bladder

Some form of backup water purification

High-carb, high-calorie-to-weight-or-volume, low-fiber food

6000 calories a day * Fiber in an energy bar...

Personal recc: Nutter Butters. Easy to find in any mid-sized grocery store, can go a week without going stale, etc, etc. Throw 2-3 family-sized packs into Ziploc, ration one a day.

Phantom Ranch has a store, you can buy some more food there.

They also have an all-you-can-eat breakfast, that’s worth investing in if you’re in the cabins.

Imodium

Any needed meds. I have contacts so I needed a little bottle of Boston.

Camping Gear (Skippable if through-hiking or only staying at Phantom):

Lightest possible self-supporting full-frame tent ($300)

https://www.rei.com/product/110817/rei-co-op-quarter-dome-1-tent

The ground is rocky, you probably can’t pitch

There are scorpions and rats. If you want to try a tarp, I can’t stop you.

Sleeping bag + pad

Cold, but not that cold at night

Once again, rocky ground.

Your permit, in a plastic Ziploc bag.

Camera Gear:

Your cell phone is very good these days.

But fine, it’s a once in a lifetime trip.

Full-frame or APS-C body

High-MP landscape body if you can do it.

Lenses

24-105/4 for the day hikes. (NIkon is 24-120/4)

You want the reach more than you want a 24-70/2.8.

(Optional) 16-35/2.8 for nights/star shots/wide

Long lenses are heavy. 105 is good enough.

I brought a full-sized tripod, this was simultaneously super-cool and incredibly stupid.

Maybe a Platypod instead?

Don’t lose your remote trigger the day before like I did.

Peak Design Clip. Seriously, amazing little gadget.

Misc:

Wallet (Pull the loose change), keys, etc.

Paper printouts of your South Rim hotel reservations in a Ziploc bag.

I brought a change of clothing because Grandma was a couple days behind me, but an extra pair of underwear and socks is probably a good idea.

Extra batteries.

I blew out 2 camera batteries and an entire 26K mAh battery over 3 days with a camera, a phone, and satellite comms.

Fitness that will keep you from death:

Broadly Speaking:

Ankles/Calves/Feet are stability

Quads are power

Hips and back and chest hold the backpack up

Mine weighed 35 pounds, this is not nothing.

Cardio matters at the very end, gets outweighed by stability until then.

1MPH at 7K feet is 3MPH at sea level basically. And you can do 3 MPH now.

Arms kinda sorta show up and help a little bit on the hill climbs?

Pretty much your order of priority is top to bottom. Ankles giving out is a $10000 helicopter ride and months of rehab, legs giving out is a surprise lunchtime and an hour-long rest sitting on a rock somewhere.

Ankles:

BALANCE BALANCE BALANCE, also Lyle’s calf rotation starting about 6 months out, ending 4 just in case you injure something.

Legs:

Leg press and one-legged leg press. Also stairs. Loaded stairs if possible. Press it UP! Press, press, press. I got up to 700 pounds on an incline press.

Legs, but also Cardio:

Bring your backpack and wear your hiking boots to the gym, take a treadmill, and go slow and highly angled for a long time. Speed up as you get better. You use subtly different muscles when you have ankle protection on because the Achilles is no longer able to act as a spring. Train them hard now.

If you’ve got a good hill climb near you, be religious about that.

There are worse things than finding an ice cream shop 10 miles away, walking there with a fully loaded pack for hours and hours, getting the biggest ice cream they have, and Ubering home.

Hips/Back/etc:

Hip hinges with perfect back posture. Deadlifts wreck the back and risk injury, but rack pulls are perfect. Load up, load up, load up.

Other back exercises: Cable rows with perfect back posture, Pulldowns with perfect back posture.

Arms:

So you did cable rows, right? Yeah, that’ll get you some good enough arms.

-------------------------------

Whatever you end up doing, pause it 2-3 months out. Avoid injury. Maintain your lifts, lose 10 pounds, and maybe up the cardio a tad.

And good luck and enjoy.

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viranlly · 4 years

Photo

I love New York. I love drinking. I abso-fuck*n-lutely love drinking in New York. I love it so much I went to New York just to drink - caution: this trip is not, and I repeat, not for everybody. I mean, what’s not to love about drinking in New York?! The endless supply of bars; the attractive, charming and talented bar staffs, and let’s not forget the beyond delicious libations they serve up ‘til 3 (even 4) AM on a Monday - astounding, especially when you come from a small town where last call is 12.45, if you’re lucky. Before our trip, we agreed on the ‘one-drink-one-bar-rule’ - a rule that we slowly abandoned as the night progressed. After what felt like a 12 hour commute from YVR, I arrived in Penn Station, starved and parched. A quick change and a touch up later, I finally made it to dinner at WildAir: a hip, trendy, wine-focused Lower East Side restaurant from the boys who opened the Michelin-starred Contra. The food menu is a fairly simple: tartare, mushrooms, clams, and allegedly out-of-this-world fried squid. The wine list, on the other hand, is extensive and edgy. If you’re into the whole natural, skin-contact wine situation like we are, you’ll probably see us there again with a bottle of Susucaru, snacking on some fried squid. A couple blocks down from Wildair, is Bar Goto. A cozy Japanese bar with a MOOD AF lighting, brought to you by Kenta Goto, a Pegu club alumn. The man himself made me a plum Sazerac the last time I was in. It easily became one of those cocktails you crave over and over again. So naturally, I got one, and another one for good measure. The whisky finally kicked in. With a little buzz and a much better mood, we made it to Death and Company and put our name on the list. Wait time was about an hour and 30 mins, enough for a cocktail or two at Angel’s Share – or so we thought. It’s another 45 mins wait for us, but luckily, they have a sister bar next door that’s much less crowded, a little brighter, and slightly more peaceful. Our new friend Ryan, who’s bartending that night made me a ‘Bewitched’, a riff on Old Fashioned with grilled and spiced truffle-infused whisky, cognac, Kokuto syrup, bitters and Kaffir lime leaf. It’s as decadent as it sounds. Stunning mixture of flavour, texture, and aroma on each indulgent sip. It was on point. It’s finally time for us to get to Death and Co. Their Manhattan’s been calling my name since September last year. Everything about Death and Co’s Manhattan is perfect: the bourbon, the vermouth, the ratio, the temperature, just everything. Say what you want (I actually got into an argument on this) but this, is the best Manhattan in Manhattan. The night spiralled down the rabbit hole after the next drink, a Boulevardier - I remember we had two more cocktails there, but I can’t, for the sake of me, remember what they were. I know there was gin, somewhere, somehow. I won’t bore you with the details of our challenging journey home so let’s skip to the morning after - two bottles of Pedialyte, two advils, and a hot shower later. Our mind was focused on a bougie-ish scrambled eggs and caviar at Buvette, and so was the whole West Village apparently. “50 minutes” - the cute European host said. Other people would typically take this time to walk around, maybe get an oat-mylk latte and a croissant. Since we’re no ordinary people, and it just so happened that their sister bar ‘Pisellino’ just opened down the street (what a coincidence), we kinda had to stop by for a drink. It’s 1145, and in front of me was a full, frosty glass (and a mini carafe) of dry martini with olive and twist on the side. What a perfect West Village morning: sunny, breezy, and boozy. By the time we sat down for breakfast, I was a little buzzed, again. But nothing a plate fluffy scrambled eggs and caviar, waffle with berry compotes, croque madame, and another bottle of bubbly rosé can’t fix. We then spent the afternoon roaming around Soho, shopping for all the things we convinced ourselves we desperately needed - Hello new Thom Browne fragrance! It’s a quarter to eight, we were dressed to the nines, ready for a 10/10 night out in New York City. Our plan to have a chic pre-dinner cocktail at Polo Bar was cancelled because someone (aka me) forgot to call and make a reso, and it was packed there. We had to settle for the King Cole Bar across the street where the drinks were meh and the price tag was awfully expensive (no more $25, bland, overly spicy Red Snapper for us) - I went in purely to relive my Andy Sachs’ Harry Potter unpublished manuscript moment and nothing more. Dinner tonight was at the hyped up Korean steakhouse Cote in Flatiron. The one Michelin-starred restaurant is all about high quality meat, delectable side dishes, and impressive wine list (Their beverage director is such a star!). Here’s the thing, if you can make a hanger steak taste so succulently delicious, you’re doing something right. That’s exactly what they do at Cote. The steak (aside from the Galbi) is prepared in the simplest fashion: heat and salt, no marinade, no spices, no nothing - it was perfect. The service was impeccable, the timing of each dish was flawless. With a tummy filled with steak, scallion salad, and rice, we decided to walk our way back to the West Village - seemed crazy far, but at that point, it was necessary. We made it to Dante, who recently crowned #1 bar in the world, so naturally it was very busy. The apero-focused bar is famous for their ‘Negroni Sessions’, which is impressive and can be adventurous. From the most classic, to the most unexpected variation with tequila, banana and pineapple shrub, they do it, and they do it well. If you’re in the mood to splurge (we weren’t lol), their vintage martini is absolutely worth the $65 price tag (the Plymouth gin from ‘60s alone is drool-worthy). I, decided to go for the Olivette: a savoury, brine-y, less serious cousin of the vesper. We then visited Katana Kitten. Another bar in the village that scored a spot in this year’s 50 Best Bars, number 14 to be exact. It’s a fun (the owner Masahiro Urushido is also quite a legend), non pretentious neighbourhood bar with playful and whimsical cocktails. I obviously started with a Hinoki martini, yet another variation of the vesper, while Handika was having a slushy, boozy, crushed-icy ‘dessert’ (didn’t count as a drink, apparently). It was difficult to have just one drink here: would you skip on a yuzu-sisho daiquiri? how about a genever-based negroni with umeshu? or a calpico swizzle? Ya I don’t think so either. We had one of each, plus a another sisho G&T, and the classic highball. YOLO. For the sake of settling our argument on the best Manhattan in Manhattan, I invited Doris to join us at Employees Only across the street from Katana Kitten, conveniently. By the time we saw each other, my Manhattan was gone, and I was drinking a Monkey 47 martini yet again. That’s about all I can recall from that night. Oh wait, there was a tequila shot and another Manhattan - the end. Monday morning - not enough Pedialyte, water nor Advil in the world to bring me back to life. I, somehow, managed to meet Patrick for coffee, had a bite of a mushroom toast, and stayed alive. I made it back to the hotel just in time for a much-needed nap before check out and a trip to Williamsburg for lunch. It was rough. I kept telling myself another lie of “I’m never drinking again” for the 30 minute subway ride to Peter Luger. Peter Luger is a classic: steak (yes, another one), burger, with a side of onion, tomatoes, and fries. We then gathered enough energy to get to DUMBO for a picture of two (hundreds) before saying goodbye to each other - sad. I zipped back downtown for a meeting. A VERY EXCITING MEETING. I got the pleasure to visit the Bon Appetit test kitchen, thanks for the my lovely host Chris Morocco (Yes - we’re friends now HA!). it’s only appropriate that I wore my ‘Thirsty for Andy’ t-shirt - Andy was there, and we obvs. bonded over my OOTD. Claire was doing her ‘Gourmet Makes’, Carla was there, Molly too, Oh I also got to meet Alex Delany and Em Scultz too. It’s a casual Monday afternoon at BA test kitchen. It’s now cocktail hour and the one man I got to meet this time was the man everyone needs in their life: mister Steven Huynh himself. An instagram-turned-real-life-friend that I’ve known for 7 years. We met for the first time that night and we got along over dry martini-inspired cocktails and crudité at Thomas Keller’s TAK room (in the Hudson Yards). Sitting at the bar at TAK room feels luxurious but not intimidating. The bar team was friendly, interactive, and passionate about amaro. They even took us downstairs to check out the vintage amaro collections at their speakeasy, Bookbinder. After a snack break, we visited David Chang’s new restaurant Kawi downstairs. Steven had a pineapple rum daiquiri, I, had a ‘New Fashioned’ - a play of the classic Old Fashioned with coconut-washed Japanese whisky, sencha and bitters. It was delicious. The buzz is back on, and I felt so much better (HA!). Our next stop was The Nomad Hotel - our absolute favorite. We felt like we’re home right away, especially after a delicious Monkey 47 martini (Nobody’s counting, right?). Zanib joined us later that night for a negroni, and of course, I had to refresh my almost empty drink. Another friend Erik joined us for one more drink. Things started to get blurry real quick, I recall there was a Manhattan, a Brooklyn, a rum cocktail of some sort, fried chicken, and a Macallan 12 at one point before we’re back in the car for a nightcap at Blacktail. A tiki-focused sister bar of Dead Rabbit. We’re welcomed by a pink slushy daiquiri, and the bartender made me a delicious, stirred rum cocktail to sip on - don’t ask what it’s called. I finally tapped out and made my way back to Brooklyn. With close to zero voice, I got to Newark and flew back to Vancouver via. Denver - yes, I made a stop to Death and Co for a Sazerac-esque cocktail called the Uncanny Valley and a lobster ceviche. Here I am two weeks later, still recovering from the worst sore throat of my life, slowly getting my voice back (still can’t hit Mariah’s note tho :s). Will I do it again? ABSOLUTELY! Thanks for the amazing time New York - until next time!

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jeanjauthor · 5 years

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On the subject of winter clothing and what types of fabric to wear...

I was reminded earlier of the joy I had of being one of the Special Guest Writers at Chattacon, the last weekend of January 2014. They flew me out to Chattanooga, Tennessee (big thrill, never been asked to be a special guest before!), and showed me around (the hotel is the former train station of the famous old song Chattanooga Choo-Choo; you could literally stay in a traincar revamped to be a hotel room, if you want!), and it was just a lovely site.

It was also an unusually cold weekend, with the temperature dipping down on Friday night to just 7F (almost -14C) at around 7pm.

I know, because I checked the weather for the area on my laptop after I’d dressed up for the opening ceremonies...and realized I didn’t exactly have something that could go over my outfit for the walk from the building my hotel room was in (I didn’t opt for a half-a-train-car room) across the parking area to the building where the ceremonies were taking place. But it wasn’t too far, and I used to ice skate, so I decided to just wrap up in my pallu and cross the parking lot anyway.

Wait, what...? “Jean...what’s a pallu??”

It’s the fancifully decorated tail end of the sari that gets thrown over your shoulder. Yes, I wore a sari. It was the fanciest thing I owned that was glamorous and feminine at the time. (I actually have like 14 or 17 saris, or something, I’ve lost count.)

Why a sari? Because a friend from the Gujarat state in India (basically, the westernmost corner of the diamond-shaped nation) gave me my first sari, and when I asked her if it was okay for me, a white gal, to wear a sari...and a fat one at that...she told me that sari is the one garment that flatters all figures, and makes all women look beautiful...so if I ever wanted to look beautiful, I should wear a sari. And then she taught me several variations on how to wear it and wrap it, how to shade myself against the heat of the sun and wrap up against the cold of winter, gave me a lecture on how it must never be stitched, and technically shouldn’t be pinned...but sometimes you just have to make it stick to the choli (the top, aka cropped shirt) so your arms can be free to do things, how to wrap it so you can wear it like trousers (it has to be extra wide and extra long), so on and so forth.

The sari I brought to Chattacon was a lovely cream and emerald green silk with high quality faux golden thread accents. And not fake silk, but genuine spit-from-a-mulberry-leaf-eating-caterpillar’s-mouth silk. I had on bike shorts under the sari (to keep my thighs from chafing) a short choli top in a similar shade of green, the sari, and sandals...because I didn’t realize my hotel room and the room where the welcoming ceremony would be would literally be across a frikkin’ cold parking lot. (My fault for not double-checking before I packed, lol.)

...But you know what? I wrapped the pallu around my shoulders and head...and I was fine. The silk was a medium-weight, very tightly woven, and protected me against the evening breeze. It also trapped the air heated by my own body close to my skin. So long as I held the pallu loosely (that’s the key part) around my head and shoulders, I got the insulation benefits of body-heated air.

If I had pulled the pallu up tight against my shoulders and head, however...I’d have felt very cold, because that would mean my body heat was being conducted right through the silk and into the outside air beyond, where my own movements whisked it out of self-heating range. But I knew better. I kept it loosely wrapped, and I astounded the other con attendees who asked me if I was cold, and I said I was not. (Remember, end of January, 7F / -14C degrees!)

Silk--real silk, especially when it’s been tightly woven--is actually a pretty good air barrier. It holds in the air your body heats up, and that is what helps to keep you warm, preventing loss of heat from convection or conduction. (It might also have some minor reflectivity/radiation/retention ability, but I don’t know, so I can’t say for sure.)

Depending upon your personal situation (weather, temperature, wind, precipitation, layering, duration of how long you’ll be out in the cold), silk can actually be a good part of a winter clothing system.

For me, I was literally just crossing a parking lot twice (to get there, then to return) and it was probably half a football field in length. I definitely would not have gone out in the sari if I’d had to walk half a mile (I’m not stupid) but for a short trip, it was fine.

Which brings me to a different point. Yes, silk can be quite good at trapping air, and air is what gives insulation its ability to, well, insulate. But when the temperature drpos below freezing...whatever keeps you warm is the most fashionable thing.

I want to repeat that:

The Most Fashionable Thing To Wear When It’s Freezing Out iS WHATEVER KEEPS YOU THE WARMEST.

So don’t necessarily repeat my trick with the sari. It’s possible, it can be done (and for me, I suppose it helped that I did go through puberty in a skimpy ice skating leotard/dress thing with nylons at most, so my body went into, “Oh, time to burn fat for exercising!” mode)...but don’t get hung up on looking “cute” when the weather pulls a polar vortex.

Focus on looking WARM when you’re suffering a polar vortex.

(Frostbite ain’t sexy.)

(Btw, that exact same silk sari was used the previous summer to keep me cool in 92F / 33C heat at a medieval event, by pulling the pallu up over my head and draping it loosely...because it separated the sunlight beating down on my body from the air underneath the shade of the fabric.)

(Also, cool fact: the sari is the only garment in all of recorded history (statuary, carvings, paintings, etc, count) that has been continuously in fashion for over 5,000 years. It has been continuously worn without pause for five thousand years, in one wrapped iteration or another, across the Indian subcontinent. So if you’re going to wear a sari, wear it with respect for all those five thousand years’ worth of history...and by all means, wear it to make yourself look gorgeous!)

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josugayy · 7 years

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Craziness at Midnight [RvB]

Pairing: Blue Team X Fem!Blue!Reader Fandom: Red Vs Blue (RvB) Notes: Welcome to Hell, AKA Blood Gulch! Warnings: Language, Typical Reds and Blues

You would think, after spending years with this dysfunctional group called Red Team and Blue Team, you would get tired of things. But no. Everyday is a new adventure, whether someone liked it or not.

Take for instance, your arrival to Blood Gulch and Blue Team. Believe it or not, you were one of the first to arrive, yet Church and Tucker still insisted on calling you “Rookie.”

You were there during the time that Flowers was alive, or at least when you arrived, it was three hours before he died.

It was a bit traumatizing to witness on your first day, but while Flowers seemed like a nice and understanding guy, he looked like he had something else planned, something not good.

Not that you minded anymore, because he was long gone - and you were still stuck in this godforsaken Hell of a canyon. And if the canyon wasn’t bad enough, it was the people.

When looking back to the time before the arrival of Caboose, Church and Tucker liked to claim things were peaceful; which was complete and utter BS, because if anybody on Blue Team liked to bicker, it was those two. They always seemed to find little things to bother the other about, which was exactly why you stayed out of things.

It was hard, at first, staying out of their conflict when Tucker tried to flirt with you constantly and Church considered you the only other sane person here, although he grumbled about you never bothered to actually talk to him so he didn’t want to say much.

And it was true, you were being selfish. But did you care? No. You spent a lifetime training during your life to help the UNSC, only to be sent to the middle of absolute nowhere because your fiery temper caused a large fight. It wasn’t your fault this army was full of misogynist assholes!

But you supposed that knocking five guys out and mortally injuring another was a bit unnecessary...

Life seemed to consider that was alright, though, because it came back to bite you in the ass by Tucker finding your reason as a good excuse to say he liked woman with a hot (in both ways) temper.

And after Caboose came along? Things turned way more hectic. Caboose was quite the character, having what turned out to be O’Malley inside his head, and thus setting him free because everyone’s radio was on.

And figuring out who he was without O’Malley was entirely another story. On the plus side, you found you were relatively okay with kids, or at least as close to a five-year-old-in-a-man’s body could get.

You couldn’t exactly claim it was easy to take care of Caboose, it wasn’t like raising a kid, it was like having your kid be the same way every day, never growing up. It made things routine, but at the same time a tad frustrating because there were some things Caboose just couldn’t comprehend.

But, you found out the hard way you simply had to deal with it, for Tucker didn’t care and Church had a quicker temper than you. Thus, you managed to develop a sort of bond with Caboose, which brings you to now.

“Miss [Name]! Miss [Name]!” Caboose’s excited voice called out, waking you up from a nap. You sat up groggily, rubbing your eyes. What could be so important to wake you up for?

It was useless to fight Caboose off, however, because that could go one of two ways; Caboose disappointed or Caboose using his abnormal strength to get you up. You preferred neither, so you took out your [variation of blue] armor and opened your door just in time to see Caboose there.

“Hello!” He responded cheerfully.

“Yes, hi, Caboose. What is it?” He seemed to think for a few moments.

“Uh... oh! Right! Well, Church and Tucker are doing this thing and they want me to help, and they said you would make me cookies for it but I didn’t like Tucker’s tone so I thought I’d come to you.”

Lately, those two have been making all sorts of weird plans that have you concerned - not necessarily for them, but for yourself. There’s an unbelievably high chance of something blowing up in this canyon, and you wanted nothing to do with it.

“Thanks, Caboose. I’ll check it out, because those two haven’t talked to me.”

“Okay! But you’re still making cookies right?”

“Of course.”

“Oh. My. God. This whole thing was stupid from the start! I cannot believe you right now.”

“Ok, this? This wasn’t my fault. You were the one to forget the batteries, not me!”

“You literally ripped a hole in the sleeping bag!”

“So? We have more!”

“No, you dumbass, we have four. And now we’re short one!”

“What does it matter anyways? It’s only just gonna be the two of us?”

“Could you be any more dense? First, we asked Caboose to help, who will insist on coming because I’m his best fri- fr- you know what forget it. Plus, he literally just ran off calling for the rookie! She’ll end up coming along too!”

“Good! And maybe, since according to you this whole thing has been ruined, it can be just me and her!”

It wasn’t hard to find Church and Tucker; those two were arguing so loudly you wouldn’t be surprised if the Red Team heard them. But you were a bit cautious about whatever they were doing, and you were not willing to be left alone with Tucker.

“Are you kidding me? I’m not letting you alone with [Name]! She’s the only other person who’s sane here, and I will not have you turning her insane because you annoyed her past her limit.”

“Annoy? Woah man, I don’t annoy people. My flirting skills are just so great that all the ladies play hard to get!”

Seriously, just how long will these guys believe that no one hears their conversations? Considering how bored everyone gets, you and Caboose couldn’t have been the only ones to hear them.

“Hey! Second best married couple!” You yelled, making them stop abruptly.

“Second best?”

“Yeah! You ever heard those guys from Red Team? They argue twice as much as you guys do! I was walking the other day, and all those two do is stand around and bicker like some old married couple.”

“Isn’t that what we do? Stand around and talk all day?”

“Yeah, but ours is more consistent. All they do is argue while we come up with shitty plans.”

“Makes sense.”

“Well anyways,” You got back to the task at hand. “What the hell are you two up to?”

“Nothing!” They both rang out, obviously doing a bad job of keeping a secret from you.

“Oh, don’t give me that,” you complained. “I heard you two chatting about batteries and ripped sleeping bags. I also heard my name involved, and I’d like to know what I’m being forced into.”

“Well,” Church said after a thoughtful pause. “We’re looking for a way out.”

You almost thought he was joking. “ A way out?”

“Yeah.” Tucker responded. “We’re sick and tired of all this sun, and thought we could leave through the caves. It’s a hella lot cooler in there, and we haven’t looked at them enough to say there isn’t a path out of this closed off area.” “...Alright. I want in.”

“Huh?”

“You heard me. Look, everyone could use a break. Plus, that’s just the thing. We don’t know what’s out there, so who’s saying we won’t get killed? As one of the only capable people here (probably the only one actually), I have to make sure you don’t die.”

“Aw, how sweet-”

“Shut up Church. It’s that, and I don’t want whatever we find to kill me.”

“Oh. Well, we do have supplies for everyone here, considering we can’t leave Caboose here without the base blowing up-” A loud explosion towards the back of the base sounded. “Tucker did it!”

“As I was saying,” Church continued. “But we’ll need a way to leave without the Reds expecting anything. The last thing we need is even more idiots showing up.”

“Oh that’s easy,” Tucker scoffed. “Just make some scarecrows with our colors and helmets on them.”

“Yeah, but don’t make them too convincing. Some of us here are dumb enough to get them mixed up.”

“So...” Grif trailed off, getting more bored by the second as Simmons stared through his sniper rifle. “You find whatever it was that exploded?”

“Nah,” Simmons answered. “Probably another one of the Blues’ failed projects.”

“You sure? Usually they’d be yelling at each other.”

“Well, it looks like they’re just standing around and talking, so I’d say yeah. Nothing productive going on there.”

“Same here,” Grif mumbled under his breath.

“Well, I’m gonna... go downstairs and eat. Since nothing ‘productive’ is going on. This watch is stupid.”

“What? You can’t leave.”

“Why not?”

“Why not? Why not? Grif, literally all you do is nothing all day. Sarge would be pissed at you. The least you could do is bear this until Sarge calls us down for his new plan.”

“Simmons! Grif! Get down here ASAP!”

“Speaking of which...”

Meanwhile, in the back of the Blue base, everyone was “having fun” with arts and crafts. And by fun, you meant Caboose was having fun, Church was done with his, and you and Tucker were arguing over your scarecrow.

“Haven’t you ever thought about how perverse and rude that is?!”

“Well, we want this to fool the Reds, right? So they have to be accurate!”

Tucker was trying to convince you to use something to mimic your breast size for your scarecrow. This caused a lot of commotion, and thus why neither you nor Tucker had finished your scarecrows.

“...And, done!” Caboose called, satisfied with his coloring. He put down his blue crayon and Church helped him put the shirt on the scarecrow.

“Hey, you guys done with your spat?” Church turned to you both.

“You know what, forget this!” You threw down the extra helmet you had to the ground. “You want it accurate, make it yourself!”

“Maybe I will!”

“Fine!”

“I’ll be inside, packing my and Caboose’s bags. Caboose; orange juice or milk?”

“Orange juice, please!”

“Alright.” You nodded your head. “If you need me, I’ll be inside.”

There was a moment of silence as you walked inside, and Church seemed to be stunned at the relatively calm (at least for them) results. But after thinking about what he would do if he commented, he decided to leave it be and pack his own bag.

When everything was all said and done, the tension between you and Tucker managed to slip away (as it does for everyone), and you all gathered in the back of your base once again.

“Okay. So, Tucker, you and me are going to set up the scarecrows, while Rookie and Caboose are going to get Sheila to drive beside them as they head to the caves to shield them.”

“Right.” Tucker nodded.

“You got that, Caboose?” “Of course. Wait, what are we doing again?” A collective sigh sounded out.

Tucker and Church carefully picked up a scarecrow in each hand, and tried to use them as cover as Tucker placed two on the roof, and two facing towards the others (backs to the Red base).

Sheila drove slowly, with Caboose and you slowly moving beside her, and once you two got to the caves, Sheila started heading back.

However, halfway she turned a different direction, much to Church and Tucker’s confusion and frustration.

“Sheila!” Church quietly yelled. “What are you doing?!”

“I’m giving the illusion that I am mindlessly driving around,” Her monotone voice responded, but to the others it sounded a bit smug and teasing.

“But we need your cover!” Tucker said, growing more impatient by the second.

Sheila gave no response, but continued turning in different directions. After a couple of moments, she finally faced the caves and started heading that way. But she drove a little too quickly, and they had to jog with her.

Upon reaching the caves, you voiced your complaints. “What took you so long?” You hissed.

“Sheila was being a bit of a bitch,” Church answered. When Sheila turned to aim at Church after his statement, the three of you headed deeper in, where Caboose was staring at the ceiling.

“Caboose, what the hell are you doing?” Tucker asked.

“Finding the way.” He simply responded.

“The way?”

“Oh yeah, There are weird carvings on the ceiling of each area, so I look at them to find my special spot.”

“...” All of you were speechless at his sudden intelligence; his plan made perfect sense.

Caboose turned to his left and ran off. “Now let’s go find those star unicorns!” And there it goes.

“Well, that was weird.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Hey, what are the Blues doing?”

“Oh, same as usual. Standing around and talking. Look, it’s like they’re immobilized.”

“Are they?”

“Can’t really tell, they’re too far away. But since there’s nothing better to do in this place, I’m assuming that’s what they’re doing.”

“Ugh, I’m tired. How much longer is this?” You complained, feeling a bad ache in your feet.

“I can always carry you if you want,” Tucker suggested.

“And give you a chance to grope me? Nah.”

“Worth a shot.”

“Maybe we should take a break,” Church observed as Caboose grew more and more tired. “Caboose, how long will this take?”

“The next area. You can tell by the pretty lights.”

Everyone trudged into the place thankfully, and barely managed to open their sleeping bags before passing out. You had a relatively peaceful sleep until Caboose woke you up.

“Miss [Name]?”

“Ugh...”

“Miss [Name]?”

“What.”

“It’s cold.”

“No it’s not.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it is.”

“No, it’s not.”

“But my arms and legs are freezing!”

You sighed. Clearly, Caboose couldn’t understand sarcasm and denial.

“And what do you want me to do about it?”

“Well, I wanted to share with Church, but he looked scary in his sleep, and I don’t want to be with Tucker. He gropes people.”

“So you want me to share with you?”

“Yes.” Wow, Caboose does not know how to beat around the bush, does he?

“... You’re lucky I’m the only one willing to deal with you. C’mere.”

Tucker woke up, or just barely enough to understand you were about to cuddle with Caboose, and immediately complained. “Oh, so you’ll sleep with him?”

“It’s not like that and you know it! Besides, this wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t ripped a sleeping bag in the first place.” That shut him up, but not Church.

“Are you seriously cuddling with Caboose?”

“What’sa matter? Jealous?”

He quickly turned away, and you heard a stern “no.”

“That’s what I thought.” You said, and gazed at the ceiling.

Caboose wasn’t kidding when he said the place had pretty lights. Right above your heads was a bunch of white lights that represented stars; not too bright to keep someone up, but just visible enough to remind someone of actual stars.

In all, you learned that there was night in Blood Gulch. It was just in the caves. And having to travel with the people you’ve been stuck with to see it? Wasn’t so bad. Or, you considered, it could be worse.

You would still never be used to the craziness that is in Blood Gulch, but you sure as heck would be able to look back on these days in interest, and appreciate moments like these.

Your canyon was full of mysteries, both in what environment it has and the people stationed here. But did that matter?

Not to life, who likes to screw you all over in weird ways.

--- Words: 2635

Not quite sure I got their characters right, but I had fun with this. Tell me if I’m missing any warnings and such, and feel free to request!

Thanks for reading!

#red vs blue #rvb #rvb x reader #red vs blue x reader #blue team #caboose x reader #tucker x reader #church x reader #leonard l church #lavernius tucker #michael j caboose #female reader #dexter grif #richard simmons #rvb fanfic #red vs blue fanfiction

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