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queen-of-the-avengers · 4 months

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Iron Man 2: Final Part

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~3.1k

Warnings: canon violence and angst

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

Rhodey is on top of Tony using his gun to shoot at him, but Tony is doing a good job of keeping the barrel away from his body and face.

"Tony!!" you yell.

"Rhodey! Stop!" Tony shouts.

A few seconds later, Rhodey's suit powers down, and he flops over to the side and right into the stream of water. You push yourself to your feet and wobble over to the two men.

"Tony, are you okay?" you ask.

"Yeah, I'm fine now. Are you? You took a pretty rough fall without any armor."

"I'm stronger than you think," you chuckle tiredly.

"You got your best friend back," Natasha's voice appears over the earpiece.

"Natasha? Is that you?" you ask and tap your feed to get the audio clear again.

"Thank you very much, Agent Romanoff."

"Well done on the new chest piece. I am reading significantly higher output, and your vitals all look promising," she praises.

"She doesn't normally praise, so take it when you can," you tease.

"Yes, for the moment, I'm not dying. Thank you."

"What do you mean you're not dying? Did you just say you're dying?" Pepper's voice cuts in.

"Is that you? No, I'm not. Not anymore."

"What's going on?" she demands to know.

You love Pepper but sometimes, she can be a bit dramatic. Well, it's dramatic for you. To her, this is her whole world crumbling down. You were born into this life, she wasn't.

"I was going to tell you. I didn't want to alarm you," Tony sighs.

"You were gonna tell me? You really were dying?"

"You didn't let me!"

"Why didn't you tell me that?"

"I was gonna make you an omelet and tell you."

"Hey, hey. Save it for the honeymoon. You got incoming Tony and Y/N. Looks like the fight's coming to you."

"Great," you mutter.

"Are you okay now?" Pepper asks.

"I am fine. Don't be mad. I will formally apologize--"

"I am mad!"

"Pepper!" you yell impatiently.

"--when I'm not fending off a Hammeroid attack!!" Tony finishes with a yell.

"Fine."

"Seriously, can we focus here, please?" you ask and turn to Tony. "Can you get him back online?" Tony reaches over and taps Rhodey's helmet and you roll your eyes. "I could have done that."

"Rhodes? Snap out of it buddy. We need you. They're coming. Come on, let's roll. Get up."

Rhodey's helmet opens and he breathes heavily. Tony's opens too so they can actually see each other's faces without the limitations that the helmets bring.

"Oh, man. You can have your suit back," Rhodey chuckles.

"You okay?" you ask and walk over to him just as Tony helps him up.

"Yeah, thanks. Look, I'm sorry, okay?"

"Don't be," you shake your head.

"No. I should have trusted you two more."

"We're the ones who put you in this position. Forget it."

"No, it's your fault. I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

"Okay, thanks," you chuckle. "They're coming in hot any second. What's the play?"

"We want to take the high ground, okay? So, let's put the biggest gun up on that ridge," Rhodey says.

"I can stay down here. I have the water and I can use it to my advantage," you offer.

"Got you. Where do you want to be?" Tony asks and moves to fly into the air as well as Rhodey, and they both stop.

"Where are you going?"

"What're you talking about?"

"I meant me," Rhodey chuckles.

"You have a big gun. You are not the big gun."

"Men," you mutter to yourself with an eye roll.

"Tony, don't be jealous."

"No. It's subtle with all the bells and whistles."

"Yeah. It's called being a badass."

"Boys, can we not do this? Both of you go up and I will stay down here, okay?" you butt in.

"Don't stay down here. This is the worst place to be. It's the kill box, Y/N. Okay, this is where you go to die."

"I will be fine, Rhodey. You forget I'm a thousand-year-old alien, right?"

Just then, drones slam to the ground. You three were so busy talking and arguing that you didn't notice the herd of them rushing at you. There must be about two dozen of them, and they all have their guns pointed at you three. As soon as the last one touches down, you tie your hair back so it's out of your face.

"I go up and you two stay here. Okay? You have a better chance against the bullets."

"I thought you were a thousand-year-old alien."

"Rhodey, not now."

As soon as you blast off into the air, the shooting begins. You use your hydrokinesis to manipulate the water into doing what you want it to do. It shoots out from the stream, and you multiply it so that it's almost like a pond is forming above your head. From that makeshift pond, you create sharp icicles that you use to shoot at the drones. You can create such cold icicles that they will penetrate anything they slice through, so the drones explode as soon as the ice slices through their chests. The rest of the water is evaporated so that it never existed in the first place.

Once they realize that you are up in the air, the ones that aren't trying to fight Tony and Rhodey fly up to you. Your hands burst into flames and you fly behind two of them to place your hands on their heads. They melt at the mere touch of you, and you use their shells as shields against the incoming bullets. The ones you don't touch, you throw fireballs at them and they go down just as easily.

"Rhodey? Get down," Tony warns.

Rhodey does as he is told, and Tony activates a laser that is inside the suit's wrists. Red lasers that will cut through anything. As soon as Rhodey is out of the way, he slices through the remaining drones so that they are decapitated at the waist. Now that they are all dead, you fly back down with a sigh.

"Wow. I think you should lead with that next time," Rhodey pants.

"Yeah. Sorry boss. I can only use it once. It's a one-off."

"Is that it? They're all dead?" you ask.

"Heads up. You have one more drone incoming. This one looks different. The repulsor signature is significantly higher," Natasha warns over the earpiece.

You look up and see a small object headed your way. The closer it gets, the larger it gets. Before you know it, it touches down a few yards from where you three are. You realize then it's not a what but a who. Ivan has made a new suit with a new arc reactor and brand-new whips.

"Good to be back," Ivan laughs.

"This ain't going to be good," Rhodey sighs. Ivan's whips turn on, and your eyes shine bright blue as the water beneath you starts to swirl. "I got something special for this guy. I'm gonna bust his bunker with the Ex-Wife."

"With the what?" you and Tony ask at the same time.

Rhodey's suit opens by his shoulder and a big bullet protrudes from it. It shoots out of his suit and hits Ivan's, however, it bounces off and falls into the water with a sizzle.

"Hammer tech?" Tony asks.

"Yeah."

"I got this," you say and hover off the ground.

In a gust of wind, you rush at Ivan while summoning the water at your fingertips. Ivan has prepared to take you on and knows if he is going to destroy Tony, then he has to get rid of you first. He raises his whips and fires them at you. Because they are so much bigger than before, they wrap around your entire body. He uses this to his advantage and tosses you around before slamming your body into one of the foundations of the globe structure you're in. You're thrown at such a high force that you actually dent the frame. Pain shoots through your body, and you're too weak to get up or even see properly.

"Tony," your voice cracks weakly.

Tony looks at you with pained eyes before turning them to Ivan. He uses the rage in him to fight as hard as he can. Tony uses Jarvis to find weak points to fire at him but the bullets don't do shit against Ivan's suit. He flips his whips through the air, landing on the water. Both men jump out of the way and you're forced to watch the events happen since you can't exactly move right now.

Rhodey starts firing at him with the gun on his shoulder plus the ones in his wrists, but Ivan is having none of it. He strikes his whip at Rhodey's gun that's propped on his shoulder, and you can only imagine Rhodey going pale at this.

Ivan's whips wrap around Rhodey's neck and pull him closer only to punch him right in the face. Tony flies up behind him and knocks his head down with a loud yell, but it does minimal damage. With Rhodey out of the way for a hot second, Ivan turns to Tony and punches him before head-butting his head. They are taking too much damage and you're in too much pain to even move but you have to do something.

You lift your hand to control the water in the stream. It transforms into a large pitchfork that resembles closely to Poseidon's Trident. It lifts off the ground and turns so that the sharp ends are facing Ivan. He turns and sees this but he doesn't worry about any of it. He snaps his whip at you, and you yell in pain when it strikes your cheek. The water falls to the ground since you're more focused on the pain from your cheek than controlling the water. The whip left behind a burn mark and your powers effectively work to heal the skin.

With you out of the way, Ivan turns to Tony and raises his whip at him. The whip circles around his neck, and he uses his other end to wrap around Rhodey's neck. Both men's suits are taking exceptional damage, so they have to think of how to get out of this alive.

"Rhodes. I got an idea. You want to be a hero?"

"What?" Rhodey yells.

"I could really use a sidekick. Put your hand up!"

"This is your idea?"

"Yep."

Both men put their hands up to replicate what happened back at Tony's house. If it blew his house to pieces, then you can only imagine what it is going to do to Ivan.

"I'm ready. I'm ready. Go, go, go!"

Tony and Rhodey use their hand repulsors on each other like last time, and much like that time, a big ball of power forms in the middle. The ball explodes and Ivan is thrown back from the force. The glass that is holding the globe together shatters, and you shield yourself from the fallen shards using your aerokinesis.

"Y/N!" Tony yells and rushes over to you.

"I'm okay. I'll be fine," you mutter and accept his help.

Your body is still sore but your powers are healing you very quickly from the effects. You wipe the blood from the burn Ivan gave you as you three approach him slowly. He is down but that doesn't mean he is down.

"You lose," Ivan says weakly.

You don't have Jarvis to read you his vitals to know he is dead. As soon as the light leaves his body, the arc reactor in the middle of his chest starts blinking red. All of the drones around you are doing the same, and your eyes widen when you realize what is happening.

"All these drones are rigged to blow. We gotta get out of here!" you yell.

"Pepper!" Tony yells and shoots straight into the sky.

You and Rhodey blast off into the sky and away from the drones as fast as possible. Just as you two are out of reach, they blow up. As soon as one goes, they all go. Tony left to go find Pepper, and you hope he got to her in time. You can see they are going to be great together. You land on a rooftop nearby and sigh deeply. Your body is still trying to heal, so you take a moment or two to breathe.

Rhodey looks over at you and sees the look on your face.

"What's wrong?"

"Personal demons I'm trying to get over. I've been on Earth for a thousand years, and I have loved three times passionately. One with a man who is a humanoid AI who was hung up on his ex that he spent five thousand years with. Another was with a man who died on my watch. The last one was with a woman who I met on another planet who is no longer here. I don't even know where she is. I don't know why I'm getting like this now when I was fine before. I was fine living here and helping those who need it, but seeing Pepper and Tony together made me realize I crave what they have.

"I tried to move on with Natasha because I really do like her, and she is very beautiful but the demons in my head scream at me constantly to not forget the past. It's exhausting."

"That sounds like a lonely way to live."

"Yeah, it is."

Rhodey doesn't know what to say to this and unfortunately, he doesn't get the chance to. Tony comes rushing in with Pepper in his arms. Pepper shoves Tony away in distress as it looks like she is about to cry.

"Oh my God. I can't take this anymore!" she cries. "My body, literally, cannot handle the stress. I never know if you're gonna kill yourself or wreck the whole company!"

"I think I did okay," Tony shrugs.

"I quit. I'm resigning. That's it."

"What did you just say? You're done? That's surprising. No, it's not surprising. I get it. You don't have to make excuses."

"I'm... I'm... I'm not making any excuses," she stutters.

"You actually were just making excuses, but you don't have to."

"No, I wasn't making an excuse. I'm actually very justified."

"Listen. Hey, you deserve better. You've taken such good care of me. I've been in a tough spot but you got me through it, so... right?"

"Thank you," she whispers. "Thank you for understanding."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's talk clean-up."

"I'll handle the transition. It'll be smooth."

"Okay. What about the press? Because you only had the job for a week. That's gonna seem--"

"Well, with you it's like dog years," Pepper interrupts him.

"I know," he whispers.

"I mean, it's like the Presidency."

They get closer to each other with every word until Tony grabs her and kisses her. Before she can kiss him back, he pulls away.

"Is this weird?"

"No, it's not weird," she shakes her head.

"Run that by me again."

They resume kissing but you and Rhodey are already over it. He clears his throat to let them know you two are here.

"I think it was weird." Tony and Pepper pull away from each other and look to their left to see you and Rhodey. "You guys look like two seals fighting over a grape."

You snicker at his comment but clear your throat awkwardly.

"I had just quit, actually."

"Yeah, so we're not--"

"You don't have to do that. We heard the whole thing," you say.

"You two should get lost."

"We were here first. Get a roof."

"You two kicked ass back there, by the way."

"Thanks, you too."

"Are you going to be okay?" Tony asks you.

"Yeah, I'm already healed from it."

"Listen, my car got taken out in the explosion, so I'm gonna have to hang on to your suit for a minute, okay?" Rhodey says and stands up.

"Not okay. Not okay with that."

"It wasn't a question."

Rhodey's helmet covers his face right before he takes off into the sky. It's now just you, Tony, and Pepper.

"What about you?" Tony asks after a moment.

You think of Natasha and smile to yourself.

"I have a date. You two deserve each other. Don't fuck it up, Tony."

"No promises," he chuckles.

You take off into the night sky and let that rejuvenating feeling wash over you again. It's going to take a long time for people to stop talking about this, but Stark Industries is already working on a plan to get behind them. Justin Hammer and Anton Vanko were arrested for their involvement in what happened, the Expo is shut down for the time being while the investigation is going on, and Tony and Pepper take on Stark Industries together with her as the face and him behind the curtains.

Natasha isn't on Tony's case anymore since everything is out in the open, and Fury has what he needs for the Avengers file. You're free to do whatever you like with her. You want to move on from your past with someone new, and you're hoping she is that someone.

Senator Stern is presenting awards and metals to you, Rhodey, and Tony for saving the world. Only Tony and Rhodey are going to be there. You don't need to spend any more time in the spotlight. Tony made sure that Senator Stern would be the one to hand out the awards since he treated you three so horribly at the Senate meeting.

"So, you didn't want to be at the award ceremony?" Natasha asks as you two walk down the beach.

"No. I was never the one for the spotlight. I don't like attention on me, even as a child. The past twenty years with Tony is enough spotlight for me."

"I still can't get over how old you are."

"Yeah, me either. I've been all around this universe searching for something to give my life meaning, I guess. The universe is a beautiful place. If you'd like, I'd like to show you."

"Me? Go into space?" she chuckles.

"Why not? Wouldn't you want to explore other worlds?"

"I never thought we'd be advanced enough to explore Mars much less the other side of the universe."

"I'll take you anytime you want. We could even be back before dinner," you chuckle. You two stop by the pier and admire the waves crashing onto the shore. "I know this planet a couple of galaxies away that has oceans that shimmer. Literally, it looks like glitter. During the sunsets, it makes you feel like you're somewhere magical."

"Now that is a sight I'd love to see," she smiles.

You look into her eyes and grab her hands gently. She seems to be thinking the same thing you are because she starts to lean in close to you. Just when your lips are about to meet, the ground rumbles suspiciously. You pull away from her by a few steps and look into the sky to see a cloud form. Just then, a rainbow bridge shoots down to Earth, swallowing you up into it. When it disappears, Natasha is standing on the beach alone.

Your head is spinning but all you can see are rainbow colors. Where the hell are you? You're being transported somewhere, that's for sure. A few minutes pass before you're blasted into some kind of golden globe. It takes you a moment to get your vision under control when you spot a man.

He has golden eyes and golden armor that compliments his dark skin. He is standing on a platform with a big sword in the middle of it. Once he sees you, he is immediately on alert.

"Where am I?" you ask groggily.

"You are on Asgard."

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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toaverse · 2 years

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You Won’t Make It

Yup, I really wanted to do a modern AU fic. This one’s about Bruno and Mira trying to share and talk about their dreams with the family when they each were young…

Note: Idk about a summery, srry. Also, some of the family can be quite mean, but that has been implied in the original post.

Enjoy!

“College is approaching soon for you three." Alma says cuts her meat, looking at her three 17 year old children. "Pepa, is there anything you have in mind? A job you want to have and prepare for?”

"Sí, mamá." Pepa answers with a bright smile. "I was thinking of becoming a weather reporter on TV. You need to study meteorology for that, so that's what I'm going to do."

"Excellent choice, Pepa." Alma says to her younger daughter. She had always known Pepa's interest in the weather, even when she was 5, so Alma kinda guessed her daughter would go for a career related to that. "Is it a well-payed career?"

"It depends on the news-broadcast you're working for, but the median salary a year is pretty good." Pepa answers, having done research on her desired career.

"That's wonderful, Mija." Alma praises her second daughter. Pepa can't help but crack a proud smile at hearing her mother praise her. "And how is it going between you and Félix?"

"Oh, we're doing great, Mamá." Pepa answers with glee. She and Félix have been dating for more than a year now, and they're still going strong. She even introduced him to her mother 7 months ago, and Alma approved of their relationship, finding Félix an excellent man for her second daughter. "He's going to study dance to become a dance teacher."

"Oh, how wonderful." Alma praises. Pepa has introduced Félix to her about 7 months ago, to which she approved of him and their relationship. Félix is the perfect partner for her second daughter, and will be a great son-in-law by the way he helped and treated her. Alma is rooting for him and Pepa to get married and have children someday.

The woman then looks at her older daughter. "You have already applied for medical school, right Julieta?"

"I did, Mamá." she answers with a nod. While her mother had always pressured her to have a career in the medical field, Julieta doesn't mind it all that much. She loves taking care of people, especially her friends and family. "I still have to wait for the result if I earned the scholarship or not."

"Let's hope you will both get accepted." Alma says to her two daughters, the two smiling with pride.

Alma then turns to her son. "And what about you? what are your plans?"

Bruno looks up at his mother, having been focused on his food. "Well, I was thinking of becoming an author. There's a good college in the United Staes tha-"

"No." Alma says sternly, cutting her son off. "No, you won't be doing that."

"It's not like you'll get anywhere." Pepa remarks without looking at her brother.

"Pepa is right, you will get nowhere in that field. There's too much competition." Alma says.

"But I've written stories before. It's what I like..." Bruno tries to argue.

"Those aren't that special." Pepa remarks, taking a sip of her water. "Like you said, it's what you like, it's a hobby. Just give up and look for an actual job. Unless you want to fail and be miserable."

"And in the United States no less. Do you want to leave us?" Alma asks, nearly yelling.

"No, bu-" Bruno gets cut off again.

"You will stay in Colombia." Alma says, her voice stern, leaving no room for argument.

"Oh, maybe you can become a lawyer." Julieta happily suggests, thinking it will be the best for her brother.

"brilliant idea, Julieta." Alma praises, glancing at her oldest before turning back to her youngest. "A lawyer is very respected among the community, not to mention their high salaries."

Hearing his mother's and sisters' words, Bruno feels devastated and under pressure. His dreams have been teared to shreds. They have crushed everything he wanted to achieve...

"Mamá, I don't want to-"

Alma's face instantly changes into a glare when she hears her son protest again...

"Bruno, look at your sisters." She says turning to her daughters. "Julieta has excellent grades and has applied for a scholarship to study in Colombia's best medical school. And Pepa will study meteorology to get a well-paid job, and she has a long-term boyfriend." Alma turns back to Bruno, her glare returning. "Why aren't you like them? They are successful. Why aren't you?"

At this point, Bruno looks down at his food. He doesn't want to talk about this anymore.

He hears Pepa change the subject, but Bruno doesn't care...

He wants to be successful like his mother and sisters, he wants to be and stay with them, but he also wants to follow his dreams...

It's clear to him that he can't have all three...

"You? A fashion designer? Pfft." Isabela scoffs at what her youngest sister just said.

Mirabel gazes at her food hearing her oldest sister's words. She had just told the whole family about her dreams of being a fashion designer in the United States, and Isabela was the first to react.

The whole family is staring at her, some with confusion, and some with annoyance...

It's evening, and another weekly family dinner, this time at Julieta's and her family's house. Alma, Pepa and her side of the family are here too.

"It's what I really want." Mirabel answers, trying to sound confident, gazing back to see her family.

"Doesn't mean you will make it." Camilo remarks, making Isabela chuckle.

"But why in the United States?" Julieta asks with worry. "That's so far away."

"And you still need to babysit Antonio for us." Pepa says, leaving no room for protest. She totally ignored the fact that she and Félix have dumped their son onto their niece to babysit without pay since she was 10...

"Because the US offers more opportunities." Mirabel explains to the family.

"You will be staying here." Alma says sternly. "Also, you will choose a different career. The fashion industry has too much competition."

"But I've designed skirts, scarfs and shirts with patterns before." the 15 year old tries to argue.

"Well, they aren't good enough for the industry." Alma says, almost emotionless.

"What about Camilo?" Mirabel argues. "He wants to be a comedian. Maybe his jokes aren't good enough either?"

"Because my son actually has talent!" Pepa snaps at her, Camilo smirking hearing his mamá defend him.

"She's your sobrina, Pepa!” Agustín argues back at his sister-in-law. “And I bet you would never let me say that about Camilo!”

Mirabel doesn't hear her father words. She's staring down at her food, trying to not let all the remarks get to her.

"Look at your sisters and cousins, Mirabel." Alma says casually. "They all are successful and have excellent jobs. Isabela works at a populair florist in the city where she sells all kinds of beautiful flowers.” Hearing her Abuela’s praise, Isabela smiles proudly, throwing her long black locks over her shoulder with grace. “And Luisa is a personal trainer at a local gym. I've been there a couple of times, and the place is absolutely lovely."

"My Dolores works at a popular clothing store of a famous brand, and she's engaged to her boyfriend." Pepa adds, giving her daughter a proud smile. She loves bragging about her children and husband. Pepa is just so proud of them. "And Camilo works hard to be a famous comedian."

"And I want to work with animals!" Antonio cheers, chiming in.

"That's wonderful, Mijo!" Pepa praises her youngest son, Félix putting his thumb up in support.

"The point is that you should choose an actual career, Mirabel." Alma says without looking at her youngest granddaughter. "How about a therapist. You'll help people, and it pays well."

Agustín wants to protest, wanting to say that it's Mirabel's decision what she wants to be, but his wife is ahead of him.

"That sounds wonderful." Julieta says, already imagining her and Mirabel working in the same hospital. "Do you think so too, Mira?"

At this point, Mirabel remains quiet, letting everyone else talk. She feels hopeless, drained of all enthusiasm she felt minutes before...

Dinner ended pretty soon after that conversation. Pepa and her family stayed a bit longer while Julieta, Isabela did the dishes.

Mirabel however, decided to bring it up one last time.

"Mamá?" She starts, getting her mother's attention. "What if I...won't like it, being a therapist?"

"Will you stop whining..." Isabela says under her breath, but Julieta hears it, and shoots her a scolding glare before turning to her youngest daughter.

"You will grow into it, Corazón." Julieta measures her, trying to ease her youngest's nerves. "You know what? I'll pay for your tuition after you graduate high school. How does that sound? You'll be in the same medical school I went to when I was your age.""

Hearing the amount of pride and joy in her mother's voice, Mirabel; can only nod. She doesn't want to disappoint her...

"Perfecta!" Julieta says, before giving her youngest daughter a big hug, though Mira doesn't reciprocate. After a moment, Julieta pulls back. "If you struggle with a subject or anything, you can always ask me for help, okay?"

Again, Mirabel nods, not being able to find any words to say. Julieta goes back to doing the dishes, leaving her youngest by herself.

Wanting to be alone, Mirabel walks up to the stairs towards her room. She looks back for a moment, and see the rest of the family all happy and talking about their jobs and lives. It makes her feel like the odd one out...

All the joy, enthusiasm and hope has been drained from her. The feeling of being useless and left out hits her again. She just wants to disappear...

It's when Mirabel finally steps inside her room do the tears appear. She sits down on her bed, letting the tears roll down her face. It gets too much. Her family have crushed everything she wanted to do in the future...

She doesn't want to be a therapist, she never wanted to, but her family demanded it. Her mamá even offered to pay for her tuition...

For the rest of the night, Mirabel stares at the ceiling, not knowing what to do...

#disney modern au #bruno madrigal #alma madrigal #julieta madrigal #pepa madrigal #isabela madrigal #mirabel madrigal #camilo madrigal #antonio madrigal #felix madrigal #dolores madrigal #luisa madrigal #encanto au

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thevirtualvalentine · 4 months

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TAPE FIVE : PEEPING TOM !

Starring… YAMATO 📸

SET SCRIPT :

“Helloooooooooooooo! So im thinking voyeur yamato corrupting an afab reader would go really hard.”

MATURE WARNING(S) : fingering, roommates to more, afab!reader, modern au, corruption kink, dom!yama, cunnilings (he eats you clean 🐱), voyeurism, underwear stealing, slight size kink, praise (he’s obsessed w you), overly wordy author.

DIRECTORS CUT : for my favorite writing cohort @gingersp1ce547 <3 I hope it was worth the wait.

Trying to find a place to live these past few weeks was stressing you out to no end. Every place you visited had some sort of mold infestation or made you pay insane utility fees that you know you couldn’t keep up with. That is, unless you wanted three jobs. That’s when you met him, Yamato. Supposedly he’s some rich nepo baby who split the rent at a price with you that was perfect.

You couldn’t understand why people wouldn’t wanna take the deal until he explained not everyone’s comfortable living with a man or understanding his gender identity. Fine, so be it, you both would make great roommates. That’s what you told yourself.

The two bedroom modest apartment stationed your rooms right next to each other with a living room and kitchen down the hall. Regular apartment things like a leaky tub, paper thin walls, and a light that never seems to stop flickering in and out were staples of your new cozy home.

Then there was him, a giant and boisterous guy who filled your dingy shared space with laughter and high energy. It was common to find him dancing around or working out if he wasn’t busy. You couldn’t deny there was a level of boyish charm to him that you found endearing. He made you feel safe, something about his larger than life presence caused you to feel at home with him. Almost needed. A mutual bond and understanding between you both as time went on.

You could trust him, Yamato always asked before entering your space or borrowing your belongings. He liked that you relinquished so much of yourself to him. His adorable little roommate that struts around the apartment always in a hurry to do something.

You were too tense, at least that’s what he thinks. He’s always wanted to find some way to relax you, pulling you into his hold while you both practice yoga in the living room. “You’re pretty good at this y/n, ya sure you haven’t done this before?”

He gets up to help ease your hamstring, he’s so much bigger than you are. Not that you’re paying attention though, lost in the bliss of easing that aching pain you’ve had all week.

Yamatos mind can’t stop wandering to indecent places when he sees that his entire hand almost covers the length of your torso. The contortions of your face as your muscles begin to relax. Fuck, he wants to feel you throb and whine like that on his thick fing—

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Just as quickly as his eyes glazed over, his impure desires were back to normal; big cheesy grin outstretched on his sweet face.

“Nothin! Just tryna stretch you out.” Your body involuntary twitches at his choice of words, pushing yourself away from his hold to have some space to breathe. Of course he didn’t miss that. “Aw, did I embarrass you? Your face is heating up.”

You throw a punch at him before he catches it in his large hand, pinning it down next to your face with light force. Yamato leans down into the crook of your neck, “careful, you could hurt someone with one of those,” he patronizingly says following the long line of spit he left up the column of your neck. You shiver and god does it make him want to take you, but he won’t, and just like that he’s off of you. Toweling himself off like nothing had happened between you both.

You’re left a hot, sweaty, sticky, and absurdly horny mess. Stomping through the hallway with more than displeased footsteps, making your way to the shower to cool off.

He’s not much better himself though, pouting as the fat of your ass jiggles when you walk away. Yamato never expected to get this attached to you. The guy can’t even go a day without rummaging through your clothes to get a good whiff of you when you’re out on business. He feels himself clenching his thighs together, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth thinking of the time(s) he stole your underwear and gorged himself on the scent of you. Fingers playing with the entrance of his cunt thinking of how you’d scold him for being a pervert. It gets him so hot.

On his way to come apologize to you that night with promises of your favorite snacks with a corny movie to follow, he stops dead in his tracks hearing the whine creep from under your door. The sound of squelching hung in the air as you whimpered. Were you touching yourself?

Yamato shook his head of long white hair side to side in disbelief, collecting himself as he took a few steps back from the doorway. As good and pure his intentions with you were; there’s always that grotesque feeling within him, the one that wants to listen to you moan and writhe as you pleasure yourself so close to him. He presses his ear against the door as you heave out cry after cry for more.

He felt his own slick collecting in his briefs as his breath hitched during a particularly pathetic plea of yours, heart rate skyrocketing with each passing moment. He felt his morality crumble altogether when you let out a meek, “Ya—Yama please.”

So this is what you think about when you’re alone? Yamatos mind was racing, he couldn’t stop his hands from finding the doorknob, nor stop his feet from walking through the door that separated him from you.

Your back is arched, legs spread as your fingers deliriously curl within your warm walls. The sight forever imprinted in his mind, you’re perfect. The same urge from earlier compels his hands to find his nipples as he watches you, each roll sending electricity shooting through him. He sees your eyes crinkle in frustration while trying to get yourself off. “Ha- Yama I need more,” you say as your thighs clench around your wrist.

But he continues only to watch, wanting to savor every little plea that spills past your lips. How long will it be till you notice him? Beg him to help get you off? He can hear the blood rushing in his ears, rubbing his clit in tune with the fluidity of your wrist. Yamato never anticipated just how hot it was to watch someone like this, so vulnerable as the endorphins consume you; so much so that it blinds you of his presence in the room with you.

Your eyes flick open when you feel movement around the room, and there he is basked in the halo of your ambient lighting. More of an incubus than anything else, his eyes burn with desire as you cower under your sheets. “Wha- why are you watching me?” Although it was a question, it comes out rather declarative.

First he has to stop himself from drooling, your nipples still hard as they poke out from your thin white sheets. Of course the first thing he says is optimistic and arrogant. “Don’t beg for my help then,” he says while making the bed dip with his added weight.

“I did not beg—” he still looms closer, “what are you doing?” You pull the sheets taught as he ghosts his hands over the plush of your thighs.

“What does it look like? I’m helping you out since you asked for me.” It’s in the way the way he says it, self assured that he’s all you’ll need. Ultimately, your body can’t deny what it wants. Your arousal pooling between your legs in self defeat and embarrassment.

Yamato allows his palm to sit snug against the sheet that separates him from your warmth, digging the flat of his hand against your clit. “I can feel how wet you are through the sheet, you needed me this bad?” Your words die in your throat as you look at him dumbfounded, taking advantage of your disoriented state he strips the sheet off your body.

Your mouth is left gaping, he wastes no time taking as he wants. Licking and nipping the skin of your neck with sharp canines. The pad of his finger teases your entrance before it eases in with the help of your arousal. He smothers you in his lust, stroking that spot within you that always seemed out of reach.

It’s not soon that you’re mewling for another of his lithe digits to be knuckle deep inside you. “Patience sweetness, it’s my job to take care of you.” He’s so reassuring, sending a surge of warmth throughout your body that makes you melt like putty in his pretty hands. Sliding his ring finger inside next to his middle, he scissors you wide open.

“So wet from thinking about me, you hear that baby?” Listening to his voice centers you, drawing heed to the squelching noise of your throbbing cunt. Your legs lay flat apart as he pounds your pussy, bruising the entrance with speed alone.

You’re so close he can feel it, your inside pulsing and gripping his fingers like you don’t want them out of you. That’s when he rips them out, leaving you clenching on nothing. “Do you want to feel really good?” He asks while licking his fingers like a mutt in heat, enamored by the taste and scent of you.

He’s stripped you to the point you’d do anything for him. So, obediently you nod and mumble out a yes. “When you feel good, don’t hold back on me.” Yamato drags his thumb down your folds till he finds your clit, lightly circling the pad of his finger on top of it. He leaves feather like kisses on the insides of your thighs, sucking the skin as he gets closer to your heat.

His own cunt throbs hearing your airy sighs and breathy moans, licking your entrance to collect his due. “You taste even better than you smell,” he says against your lower lips, sliding his long tongue past the tight ring of muscle.

It feels like fucking heaven, his thumb rhythmically rolling your bud as his tongue devours your insides. All you can do is allow your pleasure to wreak havoc against your vocal cords as you lose yourself to his touch. “Bet you could never make yourself feel this good, huh?” It’s condescending but it’s pussy clenching, and you best be sure he felt it against his wet tongue.

“Only you Yama, please don’t stop,” you’d do anything to forever feel like this. So small within his warm hands that bring you a burning feeling in your lower gut. He tongues your clit, applying heavy pressure while opting to curl two fingers against your g-spot. You can see the sheen of spit and slick against his face while he makes out with your pussy. It’s downright depraved how he consumes you with his hands and mouth alone.

He finally gets what he wants, watching you clench and throb around his fingers in a hot sweat while your orgasm licks at you. Yamato thrums the pads against your insides flicking his tongue against your swollen bud. “Give it to me baby, let me know how good you feel,” and that’s all it took. His soothing voice coaxing you to your climax. It hit you like a bag of bricks, making you twitch against him as you ride it out.

A string of curses leave you as the pressure in your cunt dissipates. You cling onto his wrist to stop the overstimulation consuming you, but he can still feel the way your walls hammer against him. “So pretty when you cum.” It’s small but it’s enough to bring you back, reaching out for him to take care of you like he always does. This time with the added intimacy.

“You should let me watch you more often,” he says softly while holding you against his chest. The fact you allowed him to see you like this was astounding, therefore he would hold you for as long as you needed. Aftercare was no problem to him.

“You are such a damn vouyer,” you joke as you snuggle deeper into his chest. Yamato laughs a little at the joke, but he couldn’t help feeling it may just have been true.

Enjoy? Reblog & click here 2 see more!

#I need him in ways that are concerning and it shows in how I wrote him #i havent wrote in 3 months #sorry if this is rough #this better show up in the tags #yamato #yamato x reader #yamato x y/n #yamato x you #yamato smut #one piece x reader #one piece smut

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the-hem · 1 year

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"Ordinary People." From the Tejo-Bindu Upanishad. "A drop of glory."

108. This great science of Shankara should never be explained to any ordinary person, to an atheist or to a faithless, ill-behaved or evil-minded person.

109. It should be, after due examination, given to the high-souled ones whose minds are purified with devotion to their gurus. It should be taught for a year and a half.

110. Leaving off thoroughly and entirely the practice recommended by the (other) Upanishads, one should study the Tejobindu Upanishad always with delight.

111. By once studying it, he becomes one with Brahman. Thus ends the sixth chapter.

Heaven is not for everyone because the science needed to understand and attain to it is not for everyone. About this the Upanishads are quite direct, "do not suffer an idiot to learn about salvation."

Why is this? Shouldn't heaven be a welcoming place to everyone? And why wouldn't it be?

The problem isn't with heaven it's with us. We like to half-learn this, and paraphrase that. Christianity is a good example, but all religions do it-

in between Moses reaching the outskirts of the Holy Land at the end of his life, achieving God's and Israel's praise at the end of the Torah, and the arrival of the Christ, Saul of Tarsus began teaching people you could murder a man on a cross and upsy daisy, enter the Kingdom of God.

Saul of Tarsus's flawed understanding of the Torah and warping of fables about a carpenter's son created a blood-thirsty, savage zealot that we are still contending with today.

The Decree says "Thou shalt not kill." The Torah says "do not spill blood upon the earth." It also says God abhors violence and is willing to wipe us out if we can't learn how to curb it.

The Torah lists numerous ways to forgive and forget, move on, become new and improved, none of them involve magic, murder, eating flesh, or witnessing to others. It mentions the afterlife not once.

Saul of Tarsus had a thoroughly incomplete understanding of religion and the world has paid dearly for it.

The facts: Saint Mark who authored the First Gospel positively despised Saul of Tarsus. He wrote his Gospel in 70, two years after Saul's death in 68.

Jesus did not speak of Saul's coming, Saul did not speak of the virgin birth, the Declaration of Peace on Earth by the Angels, he did not explain Baptism in the Holy Ghost, did not mention one miracle, one parable, or elucidate upon one aspect of beatitude- the end of suffering- as Christ did.

Saul did not know Jesus as well as he said, not even close.

Yet, we call Saul the Father of Christianity and a man of God, and this has to stop because it was not true. Saul of Tarsus, AKA St. Paul, was a god on the ground, a dirt cheap imitation of the real thing, the Christ, the Son of Man.

Billions of persons have suffered because of the cruelty inherent to the ways Saul said to wage a ministry. When Jesus came, He put an end to every last one of them, too.

This is why the Upanishads, the Quran, the Gospels, the Torah must be taught by exceptionally learned persons to others so the Knowledge in the Utmost, how to attain to the sleeve of God reaches the ordinary person and benefits, rather than distracts or harms.

Human beings are just too susceptible to superstition and we are too eager to flock to the pens of losers with podiums and platforms trying to buy our ticket to a better place from them, and verily they do not even know the way.

And thus also ends the Upanishad, which says to study it and study it alone for a year and a half if heaven on earth is what you really want.

Since we are just now passing the halfway mark for our first time pass through all 108, we won't do that but instead will cling to the hope the others will be sufficient to help us do the job of achieving all that.

I searched through the Upanishad and my comments jic there was something in there that could be of use, and at the beginning I found this:

1. PARAM-DHYANA (the supreme meditation) should be upon Tejo-bindu (the seed or source of spiritual light), which is the Atma of the universe, which is seated in the heart, which is of the size of an atom,which pertains to Shiva "Great Kindness", which is quiescent and which is gross and subtle, as also above these qualities.

2. That alone should be the Dhyana of the Munis "the paying of attention by all minds" as well as of men, which is full of pains, which is difficult to meditate on, which is difficult to perceive, which is the emancipated one, which is decayless and which is difficult to attain. 3. One whose food is moderate, whose anger has been controlled, who has given up all love for society, who has subdued his passions, who has overcome all pairs (heat and cold etc.), who has given up his egoism, who does not bless anyone nor take anything from others.

4. And also who goes where they naturally ought not to go and naturally would not go where they like to go – such persons also obtain bliss, knowledge, truth.

This doesn't sound as difficult as the Upanishad claims, and it is probably right...

Next: The Varaha Upanishad, "The Exploration of the Mysteries of the Wild Boar."

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noteguk · 3 years

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pretty in pink | kth | m

— summary; in which you try to rekindle your sex life with a devilish plan and a very sexy, very pink set of langerie.

— contents and warnings; smut, a bit of fluff, marriage au, taehyung x reader, mischievous use of lingerie, dirty talk, dom!tae x sub!reader, pretty heavy dom/sub themes, constant use of the word “sir”, begging, Tae has a big dick, cock worship, blowjob, deepthroat, cum eating, fingering, hair pulling, a bit of praise, degradation (use of slut/cockslut), but also use of pet names (honey, love, baby, doll…), mentions of cum play, spanking, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, orgasm control/denial, overstimulation, impreg kink if you squint, being nasty in the name of love

— words; 6,4k

— author’s note; homies… this is basically one long smut scene. There are like 3 paragraphs of context. Brain empty no excuse.

Requested by anon! Requests are currently closed.

By the time that Taehyung got home, you had pretty much forgotten you had a plan in the first place.

He removed his shoes after closing the door behind him, his coat hanging over his forearm and an expression of exhaustion plastered all over his face. “Hi, honey,” he called, only slightly aware of your silhouette coming out of the kitchen and into the living room. “How was your day?”

Now, you see, your day had two main parts. The first (the usual one), was the part that started as soon as your husband left home for work, and you made your unceremonious walk towards the kitchen table, where you proceeded to work yourself. A few years back, you had managed to score an amazing job in the tech industry which allowed you to work mostly from home, and get a great salary while you’re at it — one downside, though, was that things started to get a bit lonely as your husband’s hours increased.

You knew that Taehyung wasn’t doing it on purpose: he was working hard for a promotion, one that could considerably improve your living situation, and you wouldn’t shoot his plans down like that. But it was a bit disheartening to see him leaving so early and getting home so late, sometimes only after you had already gone to bed. And, besides the emotional void growing inside of you, there was also the sexual one you needed to take care of.

Which leads you to the second part of your day. The scheming one.

You and Taehyung used to have an extremely active sex life, practically fucking like rabbits throughout your dating, engagement, and marriage phases. But now things had started to cool down — really, no one’s fault: Taehyung was too tired most days and you felt too moody — and you had started to grow a bit desperate. It wasn’t as if the two of you never had sex anymore, it was just mostly a very vanilla, very boring, once-every-weekend-maybe kind of thing.

All that being said, it’s understandable why you had started to construct a plan to rekindle that old, dying-out flame of yours. You didn’t want to do anything crazy — regardless of how interesting the idea of handcuffing your husband was, you didn’t think the best approach would be to scare him away from the get-go — so you eventually settled for a few things he particularly liked from back in the dating days.

(You felt so old thinking that.)

Number one: baby pink lingerie, the lacy kind. You didn’t know what kind of intense reaction it unleashed in your husband’s primal brain, but you knew that those were his favorites, and that Taehyung never stopped until he could take them off you. For that special occasion, you had even gone out and bought yourself a new set, matched with some semi-transparent thigh high socks that you also knew he loved. Cover all that up with a loose satin robe (the same color, of course), and you were ready to go.

Number two: a healthy amount of roleplay, matched with absolute submission from your part. Now, that’s where the money was: even if, by some curse placed on him by working countless hours in a corporate, hyper-capitalist job, Taehyung didn’t react to your very sexy, very skimpy set of new lingerie, you knew that would get a reaction out of him. It was exactly the dynamic the two of you liked the most, and you still remembered exactly how to push his buttons.

It was a perfect plan.

Only, you forgot about it.

“It was fine, finally finished coding that page after a bazillion years,” you responded, placing your mug on the coffee table before throwing yourself on the couch. The signs of old age were approaching: your back hurt so much that you could only think about sleeping for the next ten hours. “And yours?”

Taehyung hadn’t really looked at you yet, instead fighting to hang his coat next to the door. “It was good, actually. My boss told me he has some good news to tell me tomorrow.”

Your eyes lit up. “You’re getting that promotion?”

He sighed. “Maybe, I don’t know. I don’t wanna get any expectations, you know my boss. Maybe he’ll just give me a new stapl— What the hell do you have on?”

You paused, looking down at yourself. Oh. Yeah. You had forgotten about that. Or, rather, you forgot about the second part of your plan — because your very pink, very exposed underwear was staring you right in the face.

Still, you managed to keep yourself composed. “It’s new, do you like it?” You smiled, pulling your satin robe to the side. It exposed your breasts, made Taehyung clench his jaw at the sight. You needed to snap into submissive mode soon enough if you wanted that to work, but you also needed a few seconds to center yourself. “Baby?”

You watched as your husband blinked his way back into reality, taking a hesitant step towards you. You wanted to laugh: Taehyung was looking at you like there was a tiger in his living room, and he was trying to find out the best possible approach to deal with it.

And that was the perfect time to strike.

You pouted, hand slithering down to the level of your waist so you could untie the loose knot of the robe. “You don’t like it, sir?” The innocent inflection of your voice made his eyes snap up at yours, something dark starting to swim on the bottom of his irises. He was catching the drift. “I bought it just for you.” The robe was pushed to the side, presenting him with the glorious view of your panties; those socks that made him want to bury his face between your thighs. Taehyung took another step in your direction. “If you want, I can change into something else.”

Just like magic, Taehyung’s expression of exhaustion had been casted away, replaced by one of sheer, unshakable lust. Your breath almost got stuck in your throat as he placed his hands inside the pockets of his pants and took a few silent steps towards the couch. “Don’t change it,” he spoke up. His voice was deep and velvety, shot straight down to your core. “You look beautiful, love.”

You smiled as he sat down next to you. “Thank you, sir.”

“Of course.” Taehyung’s large hand cupped your cheek, and you leaned into his warm touch. His calm disposition was a threatening thing, it got you on edge as his gaze trailed down to your lips; your breasts; your thighs. He hummed. “Want my doll to look pretty for me.”

“Yes, sir,” you said promptly. His eyes were back on yours in no time, thumb caressing your bottom lip. “Can you kiss me, sir?”

His hand brushed down your face, moving onto your neck. Taehyung was thinking of what to do to you, and you were kind enough to wait. “Does my baby want a kiss?” He asked and you nodded. “Very well. Sit on my lap, love.”

You could barely contain your excitement as you followed his order, one leg moving over his thighs so you could straddle him. Taehyung sighed in content as you sat on his erection, which only made the arousal between your legs grow.

“My girl is beautiful, isn’t she?” He mumbled to himself, hands swiftly pulling your robe down your shoulders. A cold breeze embraced your body as the discarded piece of clothing fell somewhere on the floor. “But so, so quick to misbehave.”

Your heartbeat quickened. “I didn’t misbehave, sir.”

“You did, love,” Taehyung spoke slowly, as if he was talking to a child. His movements were tender when he pushed your hair away from your face, but you knew there was wickedness hiding in those still waters. “You are trying to provoke me.”

“I’m not,” you lied.

“You are.” His hands placed themselves on your waist, pulling your body closer to his. They were a bit firmer than before, spreading goosebumps through your skin as they slithered down your lower back, palming your ass cheeks. “You put this on because you wanted me to fuck you, baby. Don’t lie to me now.”

Your hand started playing with his tie, eyes following the movement of your fingers so you could avoid his penetrative gaze. “Sorry, sir.”

His finger found the underside of your chin, pushing it up. You couldn’t escape those eyes, he wouldn’t allow you to. “Why are you apologizing?” He asked calmly. His other hand was still firm on your ass, squeezing the flesh. “I’m not mad. I just find it funny.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Funny?” You echoed.

“Yes, doll,” Taehyung said. “Funny the lengths you go to just because you want my cock.”

Heat exploded on your cheeks at his dirty words, your own speech getting stuck in your throat. You were in trouble, and it was exactly what you had been looking for.

“Hm? Not gonna say anything?” He egged you on, leaning his head to the side. You wanted to touch him, to kiss him, but you knew that things would follow his own pace. “My baby’s so horny for cock she’s not gonna even answer me?”

His words were suffocating you, earning a timid roll of your hips against his hard member. Your underwear was absolutely soaked and you could barely think straight. “I want you, sir,” was what you managed to get out.

“I know,” Taehyung said, his tone so nonchalant, so passive. His knuckles brushed tenderly against your cheek, a sly smirk curling up on his lips. “My pretty little slut just wants to get fucked so bad, doesn’t she?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

He hummed, the corners of his lips moving down in disapproval. “Yes…?”

“Yes, sir,” you were quick to correct yourself, hands slithering up his shoulders and behind his neck. It was electrifying how Taehyung managed to get you so worked up so quickly, his unbothered stare burning holes on your skin. You felt so small like that, and you knew he was getting high on the power play. Some things never change. “Sorry, sir.”

“Mhm.” Taehyung didn’t grant you forgiveness so fast, instead leaning back on the couch and analyzing your demeanor. “I don’t know if you deserve my cock, though.”

You blinked, not hesitating for a second. “I do deserve it, sir.”

He scoffed, both of his hands back on your waist. His palms were heavy and warm against your skin, and you could not hold back the thought of having his fingers moving in and out of you. No matter how many times Taehyung touched you, his hands were just so big that he got you seeing stars in no time, filling you up and reaching deep inside you in ways that your own fingers never could. “Show me, then.” His firm voice broke your reveries, digits pressing down on your naked flesh. “You can kiss me now.”

Obedient, you leaned in and trapped his mouth in yours. It was a different world when Taehyung was in that headspace — often, he would kiss you so eagerly, so hungry for more, but, now, his mouth was barely following yours; a disinterested hum melting past his throat, silently daring you to try harder, to show him that you were worth his time. You dug your fingers in his soft hair and placed your tongue inside his mouth, trying to be the best you could be for him and, yet, it seemed as if he was deadset on giving you the bare minimum reaction.

At the same time, you still felt the effects of that kiss, your body heating up as you moaned against his mouth. Taehyung’s hands had traveled downwards and were now tugging at your panties, pulling them up and burying them between your asschecks. It made your back arch; there was a slight pressure on your clit that got you grinding down on his cock. He sighed at that, sucking on your tongue as one of his hands slithered beneath your panties, harshly groping your ass.

You swore he was just about to get into it when he decided to pull away. Slightly breathless and completely overwhelmed, you could only watch as Taehyung tilted his head to the side and, just as nonchalant as before, asked, “What do we say, doll?”

Lucky you, you knew the answer to that question. “Thank you, sir.”

“Very well.” He caressed your cheek once more, eyes trapped on the swell of your lips. Taehyung’s mind was flickering through the details of you — your breasts, your thighs, the perfect weight of your center against his — as he slowly figured out what he wanted to do to you. At last, he made up his mind. “On your knees.”

To move away from his embrace seemed to be a medieval sort of torture, but you did as he told you. You were on your knees in no time, the harsh wooden floor hurting your flesh when you looked up at him, expectant.

Taehyung leaned forward, trapping your chin between his fingers. “So pretty, aren’t you, doll?” He asked, voice velvety and slow. “Wanna be good for me?”

You nodded, eager to please him.

With a deep exhale, he moved back, spreading his arms over the couch’s back. “Good. Take my cock out,” he commanded. You stared up at him for a second too long, waiting to see if that was a test. It was a bit suspicious, after all: he used to tease you for far longer than that before even allowing you to touch him. And, because Taehyung knew you very well, he caught your trail of thought quickly enough. “Isn’t that what you wanted? Go on.”

“Thank you, sir,” you said, just to be sure, and took your hands to his pants. Taehyung had chosen one of his most beautiful suits to work that day, and the dark grey shade did not conceal his erection in the slightest.

The smallest of things got you waiting for more: the sound of his pants being pulled down, apparently so loud in that silent living room; the gradual rise and fall of his chest; the wet mark on his underwear and the straining of his hard, leaking cock against the fabric. It was a good kind of anticipation, for you loved when Taehyung got you on the edge like that, unsure of what would follow, of how he would treat you.

Truth was: you loved being good for him, loved treating him as well as you could. Above all, you loved when he praised you for it, all warm touches and kind regards. But also, you adored when he made you work for those praises, glancing down at you like you were bothering him, like you couldn’t do anything right, not even pleasure him.

His cock was out soon after, heavy in your hands. Taehyung managed to control his demeanor rather well, but you could see that he was extremely turned on: tip reddened and covered in his precum, his length fully hard and throbbing as you gave him a small, tentative pump.

“Spit on it,” he said. “Come on, you know better than to touch me dry.”

You nodded, doing as he told you. A big glob of saliva dripped down onto his member, which you used to help with your movements. Saliva wasn’t lube, that’s true, but it did manage to calm down his attitude for a bit.

Being married meant that you had grown extremely used to each other’s bodies and, just like Taehyung knew your weak spots like the back of his hand, you knew his. Soon enough, you had your tongue trailing the underside of his cock, placing a special pressure on his frenulum. Taehyung inhaled sharply, hands digging to the sofa cushions as you lethargically continued your actions, swirling your tongue around his sensitive tip and tasting his precum.

“In your mouth,” he ordered, “now.”

Eager to please him, your lips wrapped around his crown and you gradually began sinking down on him. Taehyung was thick, always gave you a hard time as you slowly grew used to his size inside your mouth; a strangled moan perishing in your throat as you took him in. Above you, the man groaned in satisfaction, one of his large hands resting on the back of your head.

“Move.”

You agreed with a whimper, closing your eyes as your mouth moved up and down on his member, cheeks hollowing every time you sucked him. Taehyung got you just the way that he liked: so small beneath him, with your doll-like eyes looking up at him through a thin curtain of your tears. He always thought you looked so pretty with his cock inside your mouth, your perfect lips and tongue making him lose his mind.

“Fuck. Such a good cockslut.” He raised his hips just enough to reach deeper inside your throat, making you gag around him. The sound was beautiful to his ears, turned into a much more heavenly symphony when it quickly morphed into a muffled moan. Taehyung loved watching you struggle with his size, it made him want to break you apart. “You like my cock, baby?”

You nodded, but it seemed like it wasn’t enough. Taehyung tugged in your hair, signaling that he wanted you to remove your mouth from him. He needed to hear you say it, and you were beyond happy to oblige. “I love it, sir,” you told him, your voice a bit groggy from your previous act. “So much. It’s so huge.”

“Suck it harder, then.” His own voice was a bit airy, not so rough around the edges. He must’ve been close. “Show me how much you love it.”

This time, just a simple nod from your part satisfied him, for he allowed your mouth to wrap around his cock once again. Without hesitation, you did as he told you to, sucking his cock harder, taking it deeper than you were before. Your new approach was a gift from god, it appeared, because it took you no time to have Taehyung’s animosity meeting away.

“That’s it, that’s my dirty girl,” he praised, fingers intertwined in your hair. You could feel his big cock throbbing inside your mouth, releasing precum. It was just a matter of time before he spilled himself inside your mouth. “Gonna make me cum like a good slut.”

You moaned around him, one hand moving down to play with his balls. Taehyung hissed at the sensation, throwing his head back and groaning something you couldn’t quite grasp. There were beautiful droplets of sweat accumulating just above his white collar — it was almost humiliating how naked you felt when compared to his dressed, composed self — and this thick neck seemed to be calling for you, wishing that you’d place hot, messy kisses all over it. But you couldn’t do it just yet, not when he was about to cum down your throat.

Taehyung’s breath hitched and you instantly knew that he was just there. A couple more seconds and your theory was proven right: he grunted as his hot cum filled your mouth, a vague rising of his hips making his tip hit the back of your throat. “Fuck,” he cursed. “Don’t swallow yet.”

Oh he was in that mood, it seemed.

Apparently your plan had worked better than expected, because it had been a long time since Taehyung didn’t ask you to swallow his cum right away. As much as he adored when you did that, he also loved seeing his cum on you — splattered on your abdomen, on your tits, on your ass; maybe running between your pussy lips after he was done fucking you or, in that case, in your mouth. You didn’t quite understand the appeal that it had, but who were you to judge?

You removed his cock from your mouth soon after, filled with expectation as he shifted above you, leaning in closer. You blinked up at him as his hand found the underside of your jaw.

“Let me see.” Taehyung pulled on your chin and you quickly got your cue, opening your mouth. A flash of lust shimmered inside his eyes at the sight of his cum inside your mouth, the corner of his lips being tugged upwards into a satisfied smirk. “Perfect. Swallow now.” He closed your mouth.

Once again, you did as he commanded. “Thank you, sir,” you said. The discomfort between your legs was growing at a fast progression, monopolizing your mind — you had already been so good to your husband, did everything that he told you to, and now your own arousal was getting the best of you. You shifted around on the ground, your knees still hurting a bit. “Sir, please…”

Taehyung hummed, caressing your cheek. “What is it?”

“I'm so horny, I wanna cum,” you whined.

“Is that so?” Taehyung questioned, thumb caressing your bottom lip. It was a bit swollen after you had blown him, made him want to bite it. Instead, he leaned back against the couch. “Stand up.”

You fumbled as you got up to your feet, unsure of what to do next. Luckily, you didn’t have to think about it for long, because Taehyung soon gripped you by the hips and pulled you closer to him, your shins knocking on the sofa. His fingers were surprisingly tender as they slowly navigated towards your pussy, pulling the dainty pink fabric aside. “Love the color,” he mumbled as if he was talking to himself. You were just about to thank him, but your words were ripped out of you when his finger sunk between your folds. “Look at my girl. Got this wet just by sucking my cock, baby?” He looked up at you. You felt dizzy under his intense gaze, barely nodding in return. He smiled. “How dirty.”

You wanted to touch him, to find support on his broad shoulders, but you didn’t know if you were allowed to. Instead, you merely gasped as Taehyung started toying with your sensitive entrance, feeling as if your legs would fail you at any time. “Sir, please,” you pleaded once more, “I need you.”

He hummed, one finger slowly entering you. You practically melted as Taehyung added a second one right away, curling them up in the way you loved so much. “Yes, darling, I heard you.” But it didn’t seem like he did, for his hungry gaze was trapped on the sinking of his digits inside your tight hole. You were so on edge that you could cum just like that; a few desperate whimpers already dripping from your lips as he continued his movements. Your sounds seemed to drag him back to reality, though, for he was soon removing them from your pussy, ignoring your frustrated cries. “Go to the bedroom.” His eyes snapped up at you. “You better be naked in bed when I get there.”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

If you didn’t know Taehyung as well as you did, perhaps that command would’ve taken the worries off your shoulders. However, the thing was: when your husband was in that headspace, you could never really predict what would come from it. Just because he had sent you to the bedroom, it didn’t mean that he would suddenly become pliant and adamant to fulfill your every need — if anything, it meant that he had enough energy and discipline to spare. If he wanted to fuck you straight away (like you had begged him to), he would’ve just taken you on the couch, like he had done countless times before. No, the fact that he was sending you — alone — to the bedroom was probably not such a good sign.

When you entered the suite, you started removing your bra, then your panties and, finally, the thigh high socks. You felt yourself become more and more uneasy as you laid down bare on the bed, feeling as small shock waves of anticipation ran through your body. Every time you heard a noise coming from somewhere else in the apartment, your heart missed a beat.

Taehyung liked to make those moments as dragged-out as possible. He got some sick kick out of it, you guessed, probably made him feel like a predator stalking its prey, playing with its food. He liked to leave you wondering what he would do to you, and you couldn’t say you were bothered by it either.

At last, when you thought that your heart was about to jump out of your chest, he walked into the bedroom, his slender fingers loosening his silk tie. It was a stark contrast how dressed Taehyung still was — everything still in place, with only the zipper of his pants still opened. He looked absolutely composed, his dark eyes following the curves of your body as he gradually approached you.

“Beautiful,” he complimented, sitting down next to you. The bed dipped under his weight, making your breasts bounce slightly. His gaze fell over them and he hummed, one hand tenderly squeezing the flesh. You gasped at the sensation, which ripped a small chuckle out of him. “And so sensitive.”

You didn’t know if it was the best moment to speak up, so you didn’t. Instead, you waited as Taehyung’s hand gradually made its way up your chest, towards your neck and, finally, to your cheek. There, it stayed for a moment, his thumb caressing your bottom lip. He really enjoyed doing that, it seemed. “Open up for me,” he requested. And so you did, lips parting so two of his fingers could enter your mouth. Taehyung pressed down on your tongue, making you release a small whimper, before allowing you to suck on his fingers. “That’s it. What do we say?”

“Thank you, sir,” you struggled to speak against his fingers.

“That’s right.” Taehyung removed his digits from your mouth, lowering them until they were pressed against your clit. You moaned and raised your hips under the random surge of pleasure, but his other hand soon met the skin of your inner thigh, making you stand still. “Shhh, shhh,” he shushed you, “don’t move now.”

Your breath caught in your throat as he slowly slid between your folds. The pressure was light, barely teasing your sensitive entrance before going back up to play with your clit.

“So fucking soaked for me, doll,” Taehyung groaned, tracing small circles on your sensitive spot. Your eyes fluttered shut and your mouth opened a little, allowing a small sob to fall from it. “Such an eager little pussy.”

“S-Sir,” you gasped, fingers digging to the pristine white sheets of your bed. You had just changed them, and now they were bearing witness to your sinful acts. “I want you.”

Taehyung hummed, apparently distracted with the sensation of your slickness covering him. “You have me, darling.”

“N-Not your fingers,” you said. “Want your cock, please.”

The moment he stopped his movements, you realized you had fucked up. Taehyung made a clicking sound with his tongue that shot straight through your chest, quickening your heartbeat. “You’re so spoiled.” He removed his hand from your heat and you didn’t even find the force within you to complain about it. Not when he was looking at you with such a mixture of disappointment and frustration. “You tell me you want to cum, and then that my fingers aren’t good enough for you?”

“Sorry, sir,” you rushed to say, a frail veil of tears shimmering in your eyes. You felt like you had been edged for hours, even if that wasn’t the case. The sexual tension was just too high, leaving you so worked up that it hurt. And there was also an extra level of desperation knowing that your release wasn't exactly your decision at that moment. “Please, I need it so bad.”

Taehyung scrutinized your face for a moment, watching the quick beating of your eyelashes and the thin layer of sweat that covered your skin. He felt a familiar sense of power washing over him, watching intently for every sign of pleading eagerness that covered your features. You looked so beautiful, he thought, so meek and polite under him. You had been so good, after all, there was no need to postpone your pain any further.

But he would. For just a tiny bit longer.

Taehyung breathed out. “You’re lucky I’m feeling nice. Turn around.” He slapped the inside of your thigh, a smirk blossoming at the corners of his pink lips as he watched you yelp in surprise. Still, you obeyed him once again, turning until you were on your stomach. “Hands and knees. Ass up. And don’t look behind you.”

After you had positioned yourself, Taehyung started undressing. You could only hear the shuffling of his clothes as he gradually removed them — taking his sweet time as his eyes lingered on your form. He could see that you were still so absolutely soaked for him, the glistening of your pussy making his cock throb inside his underwear. He would tease you a bit further if he, himself, had it in him to wait a bit longer. However, at that moment, there was nothing that Taehyung wanted more than to be buried deep inside your cunt.

You bounced up and down on the bed as he kneeled on it, hands on your hips tugging you towards him. You whined when you felt the pressure of his hard cock between your ass cheeks, your pussy clenching around nothing. Still, you waited for him to make the first move, since your latest attempt at asking for more had earned you a scolding from his part.

And, apparently, not only that. All air ran out of your lungs when you felt Taehyung’s hand collapsing against the skin of your ass once, twice, until you were crying out. “Sir, wait—“

“Quiet,” he reprimanded. “You’re always misbehaving. Can you take your punishment now? Or are you going to keep complaining?”

That was his way of asking for your consent to keep going, you realized, and you promptly gave it to him. “Y-Yes, sir.”

Another slap against your ass was what you recieved, this time on the other side. Taehyung’s palm was heavy on your skin, and you relished in the pain it left behind; your hands holding onto the pillows for any sort of grounding. “Good. Maybe this will teach you not to be so fucking spoiled,” he growled, hitting you once more. Your body jumped forwards a bit, legs weak beneath you. “Stand still.”

You tried your best to do so, enduring a few more spanks until Taehyung had deemed it sufficient. If you had been wet before, now you were completely drenched, every nerve on your body standing alert to the smallest of touches. So much in fact that, when he leaned in to place a kiss against your shoulder, you cried out at the feeling of his cock moving between your ass cheeks.

“Pretty.” His hand caressed the sensitive skin where he had hit you before. You flinched under his touch, but liked the stinging pain that came along with it. “Gonna fuck you now, love.”

You could’ve sobbed in relief. “Yes, yes, please, sir.”

Taehyung leaned back slowly, one hand curling around the base of his cock so he could guide himself inside you. His crown slid between your folds once, twice, making you whimper as it accidentally hit your clit. The sounds of your wetness were shameful, filling the room as he pressed himself against your opening. You sighed and whimpered at the feeling, for a moment thinking that your thighs would give out beneath you. Instead, Taehyung held you up as his cock gradually plunged inside you, stretching you wide.

There hadn’t been as much preparation as you’d like, but the small rush of pain was a welcomed one. You moaned out his name as his big cock continued to sink inside you, feeling every inch of it as it filled you up. Taehyung was fucking huge and, even after so long by his side, you had never truly grown used to it.

You gasped when he entered you completely, his hands giving a last pull on your hips to make sure that he couldn’t go any deeper. “S-So much,” you stuttered.

He scoffed. “Isn’t this what you wanted? Now fucking take it.” Taehyung angled his hips back, sliding his cock out of your heat until only his tip was inside. He came slamming back in, sinking into your velvety walls like they were made for him to fuck. “Pussy’s so fucking tight, it’s just pulling me in. Dripping down my cock, fuck.”

And you could only moan out at his filthy words, brain turning into a chaotic mess as he started drilling in and out of you. At that point, you had been so worked up that you could only focus on the amazing sensation of his cock fucking you open, so big and heavy inside you.

From what you could hear, Taehyung wasn’t much different. His controlling attitude had started to wash away as his high started to approach; the room filled with the low grunts and moans that came from his throat. He was holding onto you so tightly that you thought he was going to break you in half, his thrusts deep, fast and precise. Really, it was shameful how close you already were, walls tightening around his length as your legs started to shake.

“S-So good, sir, your cock feels so good,” you moaned out, lost in bliss. “I’m c-close.”

“Cum all over my cock, baby,” Taehyung grunted. “Come on, be good for me.”

You nodded, clenching your jaw as you felt your pleasure rising at a thundering speed. Taehyung wasn’t planning on slowing down either, his cock hitting deep inside your pussy and making your eyes roll back.

“Fuck, oh my—“ you cursed out, but could not finish your sentence. Your orgasm washed over you like an avalanche, whitening out your thoughts as your walls clenched around him; loud moans and whimpers of his name falling in a jumbled mess between your lips. “T-Tae…”

The lack of his preferred title seemed to be lost on him, since Taehyung was also approaching his own climax. “So fucking wet. So tight and warm for me. Perfect little cunt,” he was talking to himself at this point, letting his thoughts flow out of his mouth with no apparent direction. “Wanna cum inside your pussy, doll. Fill you up so good.”

You whined out at his words. You were still holding onto the pillows, trying to find any sort of foundation to fight against the sensitivity that was growing inside you. “P-Please, yes.”

Taehyung growled at your words, pushing his body forward until he was squeezing you against the bed. The new angle made his cock hit different spots inside your cunt, a newfound wave of euphoria starting to buzz inside you. “Want that?” His voice was a rough moan against your ear, his breath kissing your skin in dense, hot clouds. “Gonna take my cum like a good slut?”

“Yes, sir,” you said, “I want it so bad.”

“Yeah? Wanna give you a baby, gonna look so fucking pretty for me.” Taehyung’s words hit you like a ton of bricks, making you clench around his cock. You had never realized that you wanted him to say that, especially in a context like that, but it made you melt instantly. And because he knew you so well, he rapidly noticed the way your body responded to it. “You like that?”

You nodded. “Y-Yes.”

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” he moaned, placing a sloppy kiss against your neck. You could feel Taehyung throbbing inside you, signaling that he was close. “So fucking perfect. I love you so much.”

“L-Love you too,” you said back.

Taehyung sighed at your words, a last moan reverberating in his chest before he was spilling himself inside of you. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned at the feeling, getting utterly lost in the way that your walls milked his cock clean, taking everything that he gave you. “Fuck, that’s it.”

With a final, shuddering breath, Taehyung collapsed against you, placing a bunch of kisses on your shoulders. You giggled at the random softness of his actions, feeling as his cock slipped out of you. He rolled around until he was falling backwards on the bed, a final puff of air exploding upon his lips.

“Well, damn.” Taehyung laughed. You could only do the same, pushing your body closer to his. “Why don’t we do this more often?”

You rested your head on his chest. “Because adult life fucking sucks, that’s why.”

“Fair enough.” He sighed. One of his arms wrapped around your waist and he pulled you close, kissing the top of your head. A fond smile curled up on your lips. “Was I too rough?”

“Just a bit, but I liked it.” You angled your head up to look at him. Taehyung took his cue to kiss your lips instead. “Can you get something to clean me up?”

He clicked his tongue. “I’m feeling pretty lazy right now. Besides…” he trailed off, “Kinda like you like this.”

You rolled your eyes, but the teasing nature of your tone gave your faux-annoyance away. “I figured,” you said. “Wanna talk about the baby situation?”

Taehyung’s face swiftly grew serious. He apparently discovered a new source of energy, because, within a second, he was pushing you off and bolting out of bed. “Suddenly I need to find a towel.”

And you could only laugh because, as it has been proven, you were kind of a mastermind when it came to making evil plans. If Taehyung needed another one to get him talking, you wouldn’t mind elaborating it.

You wouldn’t mind at all.

#bts smut #taehyung smut #bts #kim taehyung #x you #x reader #reader insert #bts x you #bts x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung x reader #smut #pwp #marriage au

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natsukitakama · 3 years

Text

Headcanon : From friend to boyfriend

Author note : I’ve got nothing to say I’m fucking loser just enjoy it ♡ For my page setting I got the inspire from two blogs @/tokrev-roses and @/Tokyo-fukushu (go to see them they’re incredible they make such a wonderful jobs ♡ and if you guys saw it well I didn’t mention you because I didn’t want to bother you 👉🏻👈🏻) I didn’t know if it would work but I tried.

Warning : Swearing - mention of fight - child it might be dangerous to be a thug so don’t do it I guess ?

Masterlist

Manjiro Sano - 佐野 ( さの ) 万次郎

I can see him dating his childhood friend, I mean the man actually likes them protecting them ? He would even get extra attention if he is dating you so why don’t give it a shot ?

Obviously your relationship didn’t start like this (I mean not entirely)

You were living quite close to him I mean like on his neighborhood and one day you just saw him walking around probably getting back from school. A lollipop in his mouth, his hand behind his head the little boy was walking as if he was ruling the city (he might but you haven’t known yet), as a child you were kinda curious to know him since he seemed to be around your own age.

So you walked to start a conversation with him, as expected the little boy was pretty chill about everything so it was easy to talk with. You two talks about everything and anything at the same time until the little boy’s tummy was yelling for foods, laughing at his state you decided to buy him something since he was your very first friends.

After asking him what he wanted you moved into a Konbini

That you discover that his favourite was Taiyaki and Dorayki

You two started to hang on frequently (every day to be honest, each time he saw you leaving school he either ran into you or yelled to go home with him). People sorting to think that you two were in love with each other even though you both claimed that you were friends (even part of the same crew).

You even started to go into the same martial class as Baji, knowing it was his grandfather ruling everything, so you could spend more time with your new friends and get to know him more.

He never failed to amaze you, and took great pleasure of doing so many techniques just to see you getting all impressed.

He also enjoys seeing you working hard to do the same techniques he does previously

Two buddies.

That was your label for a long time until you started to notice your own reaction around him.

It was pretty silly at first. When he was too close to you, you felt your cheeks coloured in red. When he was smiling at you you couldn’t help but smile at him too, you discovered you were weak for his pouty face. Also whenever he was touching you (brushing his hand at yours or even touching like when he is taking your wrist to look at him so he would pout to have his precious Dorayaki he was craving for).

Honestly you just thought that you were starting to be a fan or something which was a little bit embarrassing.

But nothing to be worried about

Then, You’ve started to feel that it was maybe more than just a friendship or at least you were loving him more than you should.

You realized one day that you were in love with him, when he decided to kick your bullies’ ass without telling you. Like you once told him about those teenagers who were bullied you and that you’ll work even more harder so you could kick their ass. But it wasn’t on Mikey’s taste like all he heard was « Y/N is in danger I must protect them » and so did he. He walked into your school looking for those bastards.

Once he found them it was already over for them, he quickly kicked them off and as expected they weren’t as strong as they thought they were just in groups. What he didn’t expect, was you looking at him beating the shit out of your bullies.

The way he was beating each of them, how he was easily taking them down, the way he was fighting for you to protect you. It was the last thing you needed to fall deeply in love with him.

Even if he was still a little boy, his aura was quite something from behind (though he is quite small) he looked like an adult. A true leader.

You couldn’t think more about it because he turns in head into your direction raising his brow « what are you doing ? Let’s go I’m hungry y/n » he then smiled at you.

During your walk into the closest Konbini he was acting as if he didn’t previously fight against teenagers while still being well a little boy. You two were as usual talking about everything and anything until you found the shop, then he proceed to whine about not having money to buy Taiyaki or Dorayki.

Since you couldn’t refuse anything at him when he was all pouting you proceeded to buy his favourite foods

But being the young baby you were you didn’t understand that all the feelings you were feeling, how you cheeks tend to be red around him, how nervous you were when you walked together, how worried you were sometimes when you saw him his covering with some bloods (even though you knew it wasn’t his).

It took you one year to actually understand that you fell in love with him, and that you might screw your relationship because of that.

In fact when you finally aged up to go into junior high school, you started to have other friends than Mikey (it doesn’t mean you didn’t talk to him anymore quite the contrary). And those friends were particularly interested on one thing « crush ».

You’ve never heard about crush before, I mean you were aware of the attraction between two people but as a child you weren’t interested in him especially since your close friends (Mikey for exemple) didn’t give a damn about it, so you did the same.

Talking with those new friends made you realized that you had a crush on your best friends

Things started to get weird between you two

Cause whenever Mikey was around too and a little bit too close to you, you started to freak out afraid that he might discover your secret. So you tried your best to be a little bit distant with him

Which honestly broke his little heart, he kept wondering « why Y/N isn’t walking with me anymore ? » Why aren’t we sharing foods anymore »

It didn’t help that he started to really miss you, and was craving for well, attention from you

He never realized it but he was craving for your praise or approval. Like whenever you were sipping over him being so cool, he couldn’t help but to flex his chest with a smirk looking at Draken (as if he didn’t give a shit about your praise)

Also he was starting to feel a little bit nervous ? Everytime you were riding his bike and put your hand around his chest or waist for support he couldn’t help but feel nervous and relax at the same time.

One time when you were daydreaming as Mike was driving you home after school, you nuzzled your head on the crook on his neck. Smelling his smell, and his warmth you were starting to feel sleepy. You didn’t notice it, but when you put your head on his neck he started to shiver, his ears were a little bit red too, his heart was beating like hell.

He didn’t expect you to get so comfortable around him, but was he concerned ? Absolutely not, he even enjoyed it knowing you were so good with him

But then it happens, he started to dream about you. Every night he didn’t spend on thinking about his brother and what he could do to protect him, prevent his death, his night was decimated to you.

One time you two were driving together talking about everything, on other time you two were sharing some foods on the beach his hand around your waist as you were putting your head on his shoulder.

He even once dreamt about you two kissing, like you were on a picnic date together he did some funny face to make you laugh and just feel it. He wanted to kiss you, and being the blunt guy he is he just put his hand on your cheeks and then kiss you. To his surprise you hug him as one of your hand moved to his hair so you could kiss him more.

He woke up that night his face all read, his index on his lips (as if he could still taste your lips on his).

Those dreamt kept coming again and again

So he knew something was wrong so he talked to Draken who just looked at him as is he was dumbest man of the world « Mikey you’re just in love with Y/n »

What do you mean just in love ? He was the god damn leader of a gang, he was Mikey the invicible and yet he falls in love.

How he wishes his brother was still here to help him

Because he didn’t any idea how to handle this ?

The real issue according to Draken was to know if you were interest in such relationships especially since you two know each other since you were a child. They were a probability according to him that you weren’t interested on him but according to his sister Emma they were a high probability that you were in fact into him. She couldn’t prove it though.

It took him so many days until one day he had enough, he just wanted to talk about it so he could dream peacefully. No one knows about his « weird » dream and honestly he couldn’t take the risk of Draken knowing about it he wouldn’t see the end of it

So one day he just drives into your school and was waiting for you, to be sure that you won’t avoid him pretending of not seeing him. He parks right into of the gate and was making so noise with his bike. Everything so you would notice him.

Of course you saw him, and since he looked straight into your eyes, you knew you will go home with him (not that it bothers you quite contrary but it was starting to be more and more difficult to keep a straight face around him)

So you didn’t try to escape or anything afraid he might be sad or worst angry against you, and you moved behind him on his bike so he could drive you.

Much to your surprise, he wasn’t driving you home, in fact he was driving into that forest where he kissed you in his dream (something told him he must go here to succeed so). Which was starting to confuse you like where were you going ?

Knowing when he got something in mind you couldn’t fight you just decided to wait until he would park to confront him about it.

But again you couldn’t manage to say anything, as soon as he parked his bike he was already walking into that spot the one he saw in his dream to confess. So you had no choice but to follow him knowing you couldn’t get home until he decided so

When you two reached the spot Mikey was looking for, he finally turned into your direction looking right at you.

He looked very serious, he got that face you know ? The one he got when he was ruling a Toman’s meeting. You got Mikey the invisible in front of you, and even if you were used to see him leading you still were surprised (and a little bit scared) when you were confronting the leader and not your childhood friends.

Unconsciously you gulped which Mikey noticed and couldn’t help but chuckled a little bit

« You know it’s not funny to make fun of me Mikey »

« You’re just too tensed it’s funny »

« No it’s not *sigh* you’re just so serious right now what’s happening ? »

« Are you afraid of me y/n ? »

« Uh ? What are you talking about of course not »

« Then why are you avoiding me so much ? »

« I-I’m not I just »

« Don’t lie to me Y/N »

« I’m not I swear I’m not avoiding you Mikey I just got so many things in mind I-i’m sorry if I hurt you in anyway » (of course you couldn't just straightly tell him that you weren't seeing him as much as before because your heart decided to beat like a damn drummer each time you were closed to him)

« Well that’s good then »

« Good ? »

« Yeah I couldn’t scare the person I love it wouldn’t make sense »

« (…) Wait what ? »

Your heart was beating so hard against your chest, you’re face was all read you didn’t even notice you high-pitched voice.

All you notice was Mikey holding his stomach with both of his hands, laughing so loudly tears rolling on his chest, his smile was so big.

Damn, I wish I could see him more like this was all you could think at that moment

When he finally calmed himself he just looked at you smiling and proceed to repeat himself « You hear me y/n I’m in love with you »

Before you could even realized, you ran into his chest holding him for dear life. As Mikey didn’t expect you to literally jump into his arm he couldn’t managed to catch and to keep his balance at the same time, so you just ended up laying on the floor, you on the top of him. He didn’t mind though, having you close to him relax him more than he could realize.

As you were mumbling something against his chest, he didn’t have any choice but to stand up a little bit while holding you so you two could be face to face. He then asks you to repeat yourself so he could hear you two.

« I love you too Mikey »

« *chuckle* Guess we’re dating each other now »

He didn’t kiss you that but he promised himself to do things like his dream, he wasn’t worried anymore he got you by his side.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers headcanon #tokyo revengers x reader #Mikey x reader #Mikey tokyo x reader #Manjiro Sano x reader #Manjiro sano #Manjiro Mikey Sano #sano manjiro #sano manjiro x reader #sano Headcanon #Mikey headcanon #tokyo revengers Mikey #Mikey #tokyo revengers manjiro sano #Mikey tokyo revengers

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sandbees · 3 years

Text

A few about the Great Seven interacting with Twisted Wonderland characters VIA Yuu. 👀 I only have one word summary; Chaos.

Who would meet the Great Seven first? Obviously the first years (along with Ortho and Grim). They’re Yuu’s best friends after all.

Actually, it was Friday, the last day of the week. And coincidentally, that night would be a special night at the House of Mouse. Ariel and her sisters would be performing that night.

Mickey told Yuu that that they could invite anyone to watch the performance. So Yuu went to get special permission to take their friends along with them.

After kidnapping Ortho After Yuu gathers everyone, they explain that they’re going out to see a special performance at their workplace.

Keep in mind that no one knows exactly what Yuu’s new job was except Grim and Crowley. So naturally everyone was in on it and curious. (Only Grim knows about Yuu meeting the Great Seven though)

Ace: So where do you work at?

Yuu: I work at a club.

Epel: ...As in a strip club or a book club?

Yuu: Wtf Epel? It’s like a club but no alcohol. It’s technically a restaurant but they have live shows and put on a lot of performances so-

Deuce: Oh! That’s cool, we get to see it together!

Yuu: Actually I’m not going to be with you guys. I’m on duty that day so I’ll be waiting tables. But I’ll join during break.

Ace: Really? Bummer.

Ortho: Aw, I wanted to hang out with you too! But it will be fun nonetheless. :D

Yuu tells them to wait downstairs as they go upstairs to get everything ready.

They are low-key nervous, because the House of Mouse isn’t...exactly normal by Twisted Wonderland standards.

Meanwhile, Grim was telling the first years about Yuu’s experiences there.

Grim: You know, the House of Mouse is really popular, I’ve heard about a lot of customers Yuu has met.

Deuce: This job must have been hard...I’m glad Yuu got it though!

Grim: Yeah, they pay them 5,000 madol! Isn’t that great?!

Sebek: 5,000 madol?! That’s a lot more than being a waiter.

Ace: In a week? I mean having a salary of 5,000 is pretty impressive.

Grim: Hehe, it’s actually 5,000 a day.

First Years: WHAT?!

Jack: To be able to pay that much...the owner must be wealthy.

Epel: Yuu lucked out!

When Yuu comes down, the first years are asking a billion questions.

How did you find a job with such a high pay??? Is the work good?? Is your boss nice to you?? Explain everything-

Yuu assured them that their job is just waiting a bunch of tables, and that they’re payed well because the place is very popular.

Anyways, Yuu tells them that they’re going now and leads them upstairs.

“Shouldn’t we be going to the hall of mirrors-?” “It won’t work.”

The group kind of loses their mind as Yuu casually pushes Ace into their mirror, Grim follows behind.

“Come on, or do I have to push you through the mirror like I did with Ace?”

Safe to say is that they go through the mirror and are greeted with a very lavish dressing room.

“Wait woah this isn’t Mickey’s dressing room.”

Yuu finds a note and read it out loud. Apparently Mickey moved the mirror to a new room so they could have privacy. Anything in the room is for their use.

“I’m going to cry. He’s so nICE I DON’T DESERVE THIS-“

Yuu is pretty happy with this arrangement, actually. They also begin to explain the club’s shtick to their friends.

“So this is basically a club for entertainment with live shows and also cartoons on the screen. Oh, and sometimes a cat named Pete tries to sabotage the show so he can kick everyone out and make this his club.” “Isn’t that illegal-“ “Not if there’s no police.”

So anyways Yuu leads them outside and they run into Goofy.

Sebek: Is that-?

Yuu: Hi Goofy, I’m bringing my friends to a table for the show-

Goofy: Yuu! There you are! You’re needed at table 14.

Yuu: What? But my shift hasn’t started-

Goofy: Reservations from Hades himself.

Yuu: Oh shit, ok yeah I’ll be there as soon as possible-

Ortho: Hades? As in the God of the Underworld?

Yuu: Yes, I’ll explain later, more importantly let’s go find you a table.

Ace: I think not telling us you actually met one of the GREAT SEVEN!

Yuu: I did tell you; and you didn’t believe me.

Everyone is vibrating in nervousness and excitement. Especially Ortho. I mean, this is the GREAT SEVEN we’re talking about!

Yuu decides to introduce them to Hades. But surprise surprise, it’s all of the Great Seven!

Yuu’s first year friends are going to pass out from shock. Oof.

With some inquiry, Yuu explains to the Great Seven that the friends they brought were from Twisted Wonderland.

Let’s just say that the First Years got invited to sit at their table. (Sebek is quaking at the idea of sitting with the Witch of Thorns)

So while Yuu leaves to start work (not after taking all of their orders first, of course), the Great Seven begin asking the first years + Grim questions.

The first years are expectantly tense, but they loosen up.

Ursula and Jafar are a little disappointed that no one from their dorm is present, but they seem to easily forget that after Yuu tells them that they know people from their respective dorms anyways.

Yuu also gives them a little more information they found about their respective dorms, so that they don’t feel...left out? (Satisfied is a better word for it)

Ursula pets Grim and Jafar feeds him crackers. Grim does not complain, he’s fine. He becomes more compliant as his tuna arrives.

And some of the other’s thoughts? Well...

The Queen of Hearts almost blew up in anger at Ace and Deuce. They are idiots that do nOT KNOW THE PROPER WAY TO SPEAK TO THEIR SUPERIORS AND THEY HAVE BROKEN AT LEAST 359 RULES ALREADY-

But somehow, the Queen of Hearts warms up to the idiotic duo. She sees them as...annoying children she has to babysit but they’re also really adorable that she can’t stay mad at them forever. Plus, Deuce is trying and Ace has these wonderful card tricks that would make her Jester cry.

So at first, she does not approve, but as the night progresses she does. 8/10 would meet the ADeuce combo again.

Scar and Jack...hm. Well, I don’t think they’d get along of Scar’s sense of morality and justice of the past was brought up. However, the villains all agreed to not bring up their villainous past because they didn’t want to scare away Yuu/make them wary and distrustful of them. Same goes for the first years.

Anyways, Scar is impressed at how buff Jack is. He isn’t surprised though - he expected residents of his dorm to be powerful. Scar lays down some well deserved praise and Jack eats it up with a tail wag. Jack also talks about his dorm and what the dorm represents. Scar’s ego rises 100x and Scar becomes somewhat...egotistical. Well, maybe not like in a “I’m shoving my ego in your face” type of ego but in a “This pleases me and I will treat you kinder” ego.

Basically, Scar opens up a little more to Jack as the night progresses. Like a mentor/student bond.

The Evil Queen and Epel...well, the Evil Queen was quite picky with how Epel was acting. Yes, he had the proper posture but really, he was using the wrong forks to eat that particular kind of food. She expected better from someone who came from her dorm. So she ended up chastising him and scolding him for being “improper”. Like Vil.

She was shocked to say when Epel accidentally snapped back at her, before returning to his more “princely” persona. Ah, so the child had more than meets the eye. She tried a different approach, as in trying to ease Epel into talking to her. Certainly, Epel was much more headstrong and willful than that naive Snow White.

So, the Evil Queen and Epel have a rocky start, but by the end of the show.

Hades and Ortho...well, that’s a combo you never see everyday. But I think Hades would basically adopt Ortho. As in suddenly he gets father vibes from the kid. He’s also particularly interested in his own dorm, and asks Ortho about it. Ortho’s pretty chatty with Hades, and is happy to tell Hades about his dorm! He also asks a few questions himself; which Hades happily obliged to.

...and then it turns into Ortho talking about Idia and how wonderful he is. And Hades is like, “damn, this kid has a wonderful big brother. How come my younger siblings act like shit to me-“

So Hades silently swore to the River of Styx to keep this child safe, and Ortho had a fun time interacting with Hades!

Sebek and Maleficent...well, it could have been worse.

Poor Sebek was tense and tight lipped for most of the night. He really wanted to make a good impression on Malleus’ grandmother. (I don’t think Sebek has met Maleficent yet so-)

Maleficent was patient, however. She knew Fae kind were raised to think of Maleficent as a high authority figure that should be treated with upmost respect. Unlike the other kingdoms; the Valley of Thorns praised Maleficent like a goddess. She didn’t blame Sebek for acting like he was.

So she started with baby steps. Talking about how wonderful it was to meet her grandson’s bodyguard, how Malleus must have grown to be a strong magician, how she wished she had stayed to know more about her grandson.

Actually, the breaking point between the tense atmosphere between the two was Malleus. Sebek opens up a little more as he continues to talk to Maleficent.

At the end of the night, they’ve only talked about Malleus, but Maleficent was content with that. After all, keeping up with what her grandson was doing was more than enough.

By the end of the night, the First Years enjoyed the special performance and their time with the Great Seven. Things went well especially when Yuu came to join during their break.

So when it was time to go, everyone had happily said their goodbyes as they were ready to return.

“Oh, before I forget...Yuu, I have almost completed the portals for the others so do expect one of us to pop in soon.” “Oh, ok!” “...THEY MIGHT VISIT US?!”

Everyone is low key excited to meet again though.

So, the first years go through the mirror and stay at Ramshackle, chatting away at their time at the House of Mouse.

_=_

Yeah, this was a looonngg write, I’m actually going to do the rest of the TW cast in another post. I hope you enjoyed this one! :)

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blindbeta · 3 years

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Blind / Low Vision Person’s Review of “Blind” by Rachel DeWoskin and Why Writers Should Not Underestimate the Benefits of a Sensitivity Reader

[Content warnings: spoilers for the book. Ableism. Brief mention of an accident involving eye trauma. Mentions of suicide. Stereotypes about blind people. Also this review, because I focused on the portrayal of blindness, comes across negatively. Please know that I have no hate for the author and might even read another book she wrote. However, I did not like the way this book portrayed blindness and, as difficult as it is, I wanted to be honest in my review.]

I struggled with the title, and I’m not even sure benefits is the appropriate word. What I want to convey here is not Brought to You By Big Sensitivity Reader Company vibes, but more This Book Was Not Good and It Needed a Sensitivity Reader Very Badly vibes.

Blind is about Emma Silver, a high school student who goes blind in a traumatic accident. Here is a good summary and review by a blind person. I listened to the audiobook, which was narrated well. I’ll start by saying this will only be a review of the portrayal of blindness — I’ll try to leave my other opinions out just to keep things focused.

Unfortunately, focusing on just blindness means that it will not make this review more positive, because this book is about a blind girl recovering from going blind. In a way that is both inauthentic and swerves well out of the author’s lane. I say that because, as I hope will become apparent, this book consists of main character Emma being sad about being blind for the majority of the book. The book doesn’t simply have a character who goes blind. That is the main character’s entire arc.

This is a long review. However, I believe it will be invaluable for my readers and anyone who is interested in writing a blind character. Because this book passes most of my minimum standards for writing blind characters and was still lacking due to many factors, including stereotypes. I included many sub-headings so you can find specific topics easily.

Helpful Links

I include these links in the review. I’ll list them here for easy finding.

Here are two reviews of the book by blind readers: one and two.

Here is a video of the author talking about some of research she did for the book.

Here is my post Things I Want to See More Of / Less Of.

Here is my post about writing a blind character adjusting to being blind and being all sad about it when you aren’t blind yourself.

And finally, here is the post I shared that lists misconceptions about blind people.

The Author

The author, Rachel Dewoskin, is not blind. I did as much research as I could, but even if I hadn’t done so before reading the book, it was obvious she wasn’t blind herself. There are too many inaccuracies and offensive moments. This becomes a problem not because her MC was blind, but because she told a blind person’s story and used tropes in ways I think would be better off written by a blind person. If I’m going to read a story like this, I don’t want to read it from the perspective of a person who isn’t blind. When I get into the details of what went wrong, I hope you’ll see why.

Did the author do her research? Yes. The author met with blind people, clearly researched assistive technology and cane skills, and even taught herself contracted Braille. She talks a little about it in this video.

In fact, I wanted to say I am so impressed and grateful this author immersed herself in things like Braille and cane skills. None of my followers have shared that they went to a Lighthouse For the Blind or taught themselves to read Braille or spoken so passionately about why they loved it.

But sometimes research falls short. Or it is simply not enough.

That’s why I’m writing this review. For you writers writing blind characters when you aren’t blind. Because while the author clearly had good intentions, while the author clearly did her research and put in the time to learn and listen in ways I don’t think many of my followers have yet — the book was not authentic enough for me.

This book needed several sensitivity readers. If it had any, I would be surprised.

The Cover

The audiobook seems to have Braille on the cover, but I can’t tell if it is accessible or simply a picture of Braille. The cover features the word Blind in white print on a black background, with what seems to be Braille in rainbow colors that also spell out the title. I’ll reserve judgment here, since I don’t know the answer. If the Braille is tactile, then the cover is fantastic.

In the video I linked, the author seems to be holding the hardcover edition of the book with Braille on the cover. I can’t tell if the Braille is actually tactile or not.

What I Liked About the Book

I wanted to list a few things I liked about the book.

1. The main character is Jewish.

2. Emma has a large family full of well-developed characters and realistic portrayals of various ages. Everyone reacts uniquely to her blindness and I thought these characters were all used well. The scenes with Emma and her older sisters as well as the scenes with her mom were really great.

3. Emma gets therapy for her trauma. She also gets training to use a cane. These are annoyingly rare in stories.

4. As I said, the author clearly did her research. This is obvious when reading the book and In everything I found when researching the author after I finished it. I want to give the author praise here. I thought her explanations of technology Emma uses were the most accurate I have seen so far, both in books and when doing sensitivity reads.

What I Didn’t Like

I will start with this: Emma, after a year of learning to use her cane, is still using a cane inside her own house. After a year. This is not realistic, nor does it seem comfortable at all to use a cane in one’s own home. I don’t know anyone who does this and according to the other reviews, I am not the only one who was surprised by this.

Basically, this story would be okay with some inaccuracies. That’s to be expected. The real issue I had with this book was that it uses tropes the blind community generally hates and that the book is literally about !!! a character going blind and adapting. That’s the story. If you remove the blindness and the trauma, the story falls apart.

The author told a story that was not hers to tell and she did so badly.

If you are confused about why I dislike this, please read this post called Writing Blind Characters Accepting Being Blind When You Aren’t Blind Yourself.

What Did The Author Do Badly?

Trauma and Blindness

The story starts when main character, Emma, goes blind after a fireworks accident. Not only is this cliché, but it also tics one of my boxes in my Things I Want To See Less of post. This author wrote about a character going blind due to a traumatic accident. Link to the post.

In telling a story that was not hers to tell, here are some harmful things in the book:

The author does not do a good job of separating Emma’s trauma from her blindness. To be fair, this is difficult and most people don’t know to go about doing so with purpose. There are a lot of times in the book where the fact that Emma is traumatized leads to her saying a lot of terrible things about blindness and blind people that are never corrected or contradicted in the story. Again, if you are not sure why this is a problem, read the link I shared to my post.

Here are a few times this issue came up:

-Emma develops a habit of rocking, which myself and many reviewers know to attribute to trauma, but it isn’t clear if the author thinks blind people rock, as the stereotype indicates. Is Emma rocking as a trauma response or because she is blind? The book doesn’t make it clear. This is a time where authors need to be clear.

-Emma assumed she will never get a job, be kissed, get married, etc, after going blind.

-Emma yells about being ruined due to her blindness. The first two hours of the audiobook consist of Emma complaining about being blind. She mentions never being able to get a job a few times, assuming she won’t be able to work. While blind people do struggle with employment, this is due to discrimination, lack of transportation, lack of accommodations, lack of community support, and other systemic issues.

-Emma calls herself disfigured.

-Emma states she wanted to die. In another part of the book, when a background character we never met, Claire, completed suicide, Emma wonders if she was so focused on Claire because she wondered if she wanted to kill herself too.

-On the subject of the character, Claire, Emma states: “How easy would being gay be compared to being blind?”

This is especially damaging because some people are blind and gay. It also isn’t fair for Emma to compare them and the systemic issues that are faced by blind people and gay people. Emma not only trivializes homophobia, but also decides being blind is worse. For Emma, being blind is the worst thing ever, which is very isolating to read.

There are times where the fact that Emma is traumatized was not only grouped in with her blindness, but where the author used trauma to write ideas about blindness that are ultimately harmful.

This book, if readers of the blog want to read it, should be a lesson on why separating trauma from blindness is important. Whether that means making clear distinctions in the narrative itself or just not writing about a character going blind after a traumatic accident.

Let’s continue the overall things done badly.

Stereotypes and Tropes About Blind People

1. Rocking —

I have already mentioned the rocking thing above, but to reiterate here, not all blind people rock to orient themselves.

2. Touching Faces —

Emma and another blind character literally feel each other’s faces, one of the most hated tropes for blind people. In another scene, Emma feels another character’s face without asking.

3. Where Are the Audio Descriptions? —

Emma compares her life to a horror movie she couldn’t watch. This is a subtle reinforcement of the idea that blind people don’t watch films or television. The book makes no mention of audio descriptions. I suppose Emma and all the other blind characters simply don’t watch films or shows anymore.

4. Supposedly Fake Service Dogs —

Emma gets a dog that is specifically said to not be a guide dog. Emma brings this dog to restaurants and to school. Emma explains that she can get away with bringing her dog because no one wants to tell the blind kid no. This was, as you may be able to imagine, frustrating to read. Plenty of blind people have been denied access to transportation and buildings with a guide dog that is supposed to be able to travel freely. Emma’s blindness would absolutely not be a big help to her in bringing her dog places where it is not allowed. In showing Emma getting away with bringing her dog into restaurants when he is explicitly not a service dog, the author is contributing to a huge myth that prevents actual service dogs from traveling freely. Yes, this is only a book and it probably isn’t falling into the hands of someone powerful — however, it has probably been picked up by a business owner, a driver for public transport, a teacher, etc.

5. Avoiding words like see and look —

Emma avoids words like see and look. She also gets angry at her friends for using such words. At one point, Emma’s friend says something and Emma snaps, “I can’t see”. This prompts her friend to, according to Emma, never make that mistake again. Toward the end of the book, Emma is still avoiding such words.

Here is a list of misconceptions about blind people. Look at #6.

Here is another review of this book that also touches on this issue. The reviewer states: “The strange thing is that I’ve never known any blind person avoiding the use of words like “see” or “look.” Again, I’d hate for sighted people to read this book and think that blind folk all avoid words with visual associations; in fact, the only blind friends I talk to moan about sighted people avoiding the use of such visual words because they think we’ll be offended!”

6. All Blind People Are Apparently Totally Blind —

At one point in the story, Emma attends a school for the blind. Another character, who I think was Emma’s mother, says that the campus is beautiful. Emma makes this remark: “Why bother making a school for the blind beautiful? It’s lost on everyone anyway.”

Wow, Emma, that was rude. This is another example of where Emma’s pain and anger cause issues for readers. If they take this at face value, they may think that blind people don’t notice or appreciate beauty. More importantly, they might also assume, like Emma, that all blind people can’t see. As I have stated many times on this blog, most blind people have residual vision. Not everyone is totally blind. This is why, like beautiful grounds, schools for the blind also have things like stairs with high contrast.

7. Subtle Use of the Idea That People With Low Vision Should Rather Strain Themselves Than Be Blind —

This one was less obvious for me. However, once I thought about it again, I understood what I was reading in this character. There’s a rather outgoing character named Seb whose personality is very refreshing in this story. Seb attends the school for the blind with Emma. Seb has low vision.

So Seb wants to get a job. Remember how Emma was afraid she wouldn’t be able to get a job now that she is blind?

Instead of showing Seb getting a job to prove that idea wrong, he knows he has to conveniently not mention being blind when he applies, showing up in sunglasses and without a cane. The book states he worries he wouldn’t be able to fill out the application.

Here is what the book states:

[Quote] “He got hired without telling any of the guys who ran the place that he wasn’t sighted; I know because he had confided in me and Dee the week before that he wanted the job—if friend worked there and said they had an opening—but Seb was worried he wouldn’t be able to fill out the application. So he showed up one night before closing time, wearing sunglasses and not carrying a cane, and asked all casually if he could grab and application and bring it back the next day.

And he spent all night filling it and brought it back the next day. He didn’t mention that he was blind or that the application had taken six hours to finish with the help of his sighted brother.” [End quote]

Seb has no obligation to reveal any personal information to them. If he wants to fill out the application on his own time, in a way in which he feels comfortable, that is fine. However, the book implies he thought he would not be hired if they knew he was blind. Rather than talk about the employment discrimination that is such a huge problem for blind people, the book decides to skip over this. And rather than address Emma’s fear-based expectation that she will never get a job, presumably because she doesn’t think blind people can do anything, the book ignores it.

Seb getting a job, especially in this way, does absolutely nothing to assuage Emma’s fears. Or challenge any possible low expectations the readers may have.

Seb fills out the application by himself and it takes six hours. Six. Hours. His brother also helps him eventually and it still takes that long. No one I know, even with intense internalized ableism, would sit there for six hours doing something like that.

Seb should be using a magnifying device or a scanner app. There is tons of technology out there for people with low vision and the author chose to include absolutely none of it in the book. Instead, she chose to show a character struggling for six hours without exploring his reasons for doing so. Does he do this because of internalized ableism? If yes, how can the same character tell Emma the school will get rid of her “Poor Blind Kid bullshit”?

Now, in some families and some cultures, it would be more appropriate for a family member to help. However, the author tells us nothing more about Seb’s culture, his family life, or his motivations. I assume he did not ask for his brother’s help until later, because I can’t fathom why having a family member help from the start would take six hours.

Why is a character doing this in a story that is supposed to be about adjusting to blindness? Clinging to his remaining vision instead of using a few adaptive tools to make things easier on his eyes hardly makes him a good role model for Emma. Why is a character modeling independence in this specific way? In a way that tells Emma that it is better to struggle with a little vision than to be totally blind?

This is reinforced when Emma says some kids, including Seb, pass well. This is something that cannot be given nuance unless it is written by someone who experienced it. Otherwise, the story shows Emma over and over again that being blind is bad. Undesirable. Which is ableist.

Do people struggle with this? Absolutely. Did the author write it well? No.

And Here Are a Few Things That Could Have Been Done Better

In this section, I wanted to go over things I thought could have been done better. They aren’t necessarily harmful, but I wanted to mention them.

Sunglasses

The main character wears sunglasses when she goes out. This is likely because she has a scar she feels self-conscious about, but this is still a big stereotype that the author could have taken more care with.

O&M Issues

So Emma has someone come around to teach her orientation and mobility, which was nice. The author put in her research here as well. However, the instructor leaves after a time, which seems odd. Rather than work with her around her schools or other locations, he decides she has learned all the basics. I received O&M training until university.

Now Let’s Examine The Blind Characters vs Tropes

In this section, I want to go over the biggest tropes in the stories structure, the number of blind characters, and what I normally advise to get around these issues. We’ll see how this advice compares to how the book turned out.

So, the things to look out for are:

-tokenism

-blind characters going blind through trauma

-blind characters being sad about being blind

Examining Tokenism

Emma is not the only blind character. The blind characters include: Emma, Sebastian, Dee, and Annabelle. I normally say to have one other blind character at minimum. The book meets that requirement.

Examining Blind Characters Going Blind Through Trauma

I also normally suggest avoiding characters going blind through trauma, especially main characters. If the writer would like to go ahead with this, I normally suggest 2 or 3 other blind characters who didn’t go blind through trauma. With 2 as the minimum. I admit, I prefer the main character not to be the one going blind through trauma, simply because the main character has so much power in the perception of the reader.

Let us examine each character.

Emma - went blind through a traumatic fireworks accident

Sebastian- unknown

Dee - unknown

Annabelle- went blind through Retinitis Pigmentosa

On the topic of Dee and Seb, Emma does mention they may have better hearing, which she claims you only have if you lose your sight before the age of ten. We can guess that Dee and Seb both went blind in early childhood or were born blind, but we aren’t sure. What I want here is explicit confirmation that other characters didn’t go blind through accidents. We only get that with Annabelle and her RP.

Not only that, but the other blind characters are not in the novel as much. Annabelle only shows up at the end, seemingly as a way for Emma to help another recently blind person to show how she has developed. Seb and Dee are only in a few chapters, mostly as flashbacks. They don’t get much backstory or development either.

However, it fills my minimum requirements, so I’ll let it pass.

Examining Blind Characters Being Sad About Being Blind

This is literally Emma throughout the entire book. Until the last few chapters.

Annabelle has a similar, shorter arc, although she is only 9 at the time. Annabelle comes in near the end of the book.

It is normal for people to need an adjustment period, particularly if they are young. However, to have the entire book consist of Emma being sad and having trauma focused mostly on her blindness is not something I’m okay with. Especially because, as I wrote in this post, it can leave non-blind readers with a very negative impression of blindness. Again, why would I want to read about this arc from an author who isn’t blind? Why make the entire book about adjusting to blindness?

Anyway, then we have Seb and Dee.

There characters were refreshing in this story, which is mostly Emma being sad and angry.

Dee doesn’t seem to be sad, but we don’t know much about her. She does seem well adjusted and laidback. She and Seb go skiing, so that’s something.

Sebastian gets a little more attention in the story. He does tell Emma the school for the blind will knock the “BPK bullshit” or “Poor Blind Kid bullshit” right out of her. I thought it was funny. Sebastian also has a big personality and interests outside of moping about being blind. He enjoys skiing and, according to Emma, he would have no problem with presenting on the Lighthouse For the Blind in front of people who aren’t blind, unlike Emma, who struggles with calling attention to her blindness. Which I can understand, what with the awkward questions her sighted classmates give her.

However, Seb also has an issue with hiding or fighting against his low vision in some parts of the story. If Sebastian were the main character, I could understand some of the things he does. However, this does not go well at all with Emma’s arc.

Anyway, Seb and Dee don’t get nearly enough time in the book for me to feel 100% comfortable using them as exceptions.

How Would a Sensitivity Reader Help?

If I were doing a sensitivity read for this book, I would suggest including more about Seb and Dee and the school for the blind. I would have explained that the way the story sidelines them shows Emma is not okay associating with her blind friends. I would have asked for more backstory, more contrast between them and the main character, and possibly a few more blind characters Emma met at the school for the blind.

If the writer was insistent on having Emma go blind in an accident, I would have suggested reducing the time she spent depressed and shifting the focus from her blindness to her traumatic accident. I would have had the author work harder to separate the two, even if it took Emma a while to do so. I would have also suggested reducing Emma’s remarks or have them called out. For example, her comments about not being able to get a job or beautiful schools being lost on blind people. Sebastian would have been excellent in this role.

I would have worked with her to either get rid of or subvert the list of stereotypes. Most of them are easy fixes.

I would have told her blind people don’t use canes in their houses. I would have given suggestions for assistive technology for Seb to use. I would have helped her with the section on trauma and blindness, reducing or erasing a lot of the issues I included there. I would have suggested giving Emma an arc that isn’t entirely about adjusting to blindness, even if her story starts with going blind.

I probably would have seemed nicer about my feedback because the author still had opportunity to make changes.

The author could have done more research on stereotypes and cane usage, but I think there is an important lesson here about the benefits of sensitivity readers.

In the end, a sensitivity reader would have fixed most of the problems in this story, despite the amount of research the author did. Research cannot always teach you everything and that is where a sensually or authenticity reader comes in. Moreover, there is a certain respect in involving communities you are representing. In paying them in money or exposure. In listening to their voices and respecting what they say. If the author was willing to learn Braille and sit with blind people to learn about canes and technology, why did she stop at getting sensitivity readers? Why does it feel like she didn’t want to include the blind community in any meaningful way?

I hope this helps someone.

-BlindBeta

#blind person reviews a review tag #book talk ; let’s review published books #review #blind representation #blind #blind characters #writing blind characters #trauma narrative #stereotypes #blind tropes #eye trauma #ableism

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1kook · 4 years

Text

netflix & chill

summary If you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality. warnings grinding, 2 seconds of sub kook, oral (f), cum eating, vanilla but [ passionate ], unprotected sex, dirty talk tags use of the oldest trick in the book (“your hands are sooo big”), shy oblivious AND gentleman jk? pick a struggle, brief ment of app developer kook, evil and conniving oc wc 10.2k !! wow!!

will I ever write a serious jk fic? NO. this entire thing was based off this pic of jungkook which i’ve said before that i would print out in sepia filter and crumple and stuff in a drawer n then tell my kids 35 years from now was a long lost lover i met on a cruise to the bahamas and never saw again ty to mia more @daechwlta for being there during my brief crisis over this fic 🥺

When Namjoon had first not so subtly mentioned the idea of setting you up on a date, it was with a faux air of disinterest that you had masterfully pried the details out of him. Namjoon has a friend, he said, a friend who was kinda sorta attached to his hip. And while Namjoon loved the kid, he also thought this friend could use some social interaction outside of Namjoon.

Now you and Namjoon weren’t exactly the most conventional of friends for him to be proposing blind dates to you at whim. He was your senior at school, your mentor in your scholarship program, an educated man studying for his masters. So when he’d first uttered the words you were immediately on the fence. Sure, the two of you knew each other well and probably got along better than most mentor-mentee pairings among your year, but you doubt Namjoon knew enough of your tastes to offer you up for a blind date.

According to Namjoon, his friend was a kid in the same year as you, making him not so much as a kid as he was your classmate. You brushed it off at first, spewing some bullshit excuse that you’d rather focus on your studies, and how dating was a distraction to your education, as if you hadn’t spent the weekend prior binge watching some Spanish novella while you dutifully ignored your essay.

The second time Namjoon mentions it you agree on the spot. Life on campus could only be interesting for so long, so you might as well make the best of it and go on as many stupid dates as possible.

Namjoon is over the moon.

He tells you he’ll pass your phone number on over to that friend of his—“Jeon Jungkook”—and promises you you won’t regret this because his friend was amazing, really. And for Namjoon to sing his praises for just any underclassmen was unheard of. In fact, besides you, you don’t think Namjoon knows many other students younger than him, and if he did, you hardly doubt he would regard them so highly.

So he gives his friend your number, and so ends your weekly meeting with your mentor. You only realize on the walk back to your dorm that you forgot to ask him about some club at school, the whole goal of this week’s meeting, but by then you don’t really care, the whole conversation fading into the background.

In fact, you forget about the whole ordeal until Friday night rolls around and you’re once again, binge watching another novella on your laptop, when your phone suddenly vibrates.

You were by no means a loser at school, a friendless nobody, but you were also not the outgoing, school-spirited student on the front page of your school’s website, and thus had nearly every app that could produce a notification on your phone muted, every text thread silenced. The only notifications and messages you allowed were from your email and from your roommate, and considering the fact Doyeon was face down in a puddle of her own mid-semester tears right across from you, it was probably your email.

Much to your surprises, it isn’t that “Monday’s Class is CANCELLED” email you were hoping for, but instead some unknown number in a text notification. You roll your eyes, click it open thinking it’s a reminder from some store or from some guy claiming to be from your bank, only to pause at the words written inside the little grey bubble.

hey its jungkook!!! joon gave me your number to I guess ask you on a date soo are you free tmrw night??

The excessive punctuation reminds you a little bit of your kid sister back home and the dorky emails she’ll send you from time to time. It’s with that memory and a smile on your face, that you’re suddenly reminded of what exactly this message is saying. “Oh shit,” you mumble, moving to sit up and reread the text. Doyeon complaining loudly in the background has you reading it twice more before you understand it, and by then there’s a fluttery feeling in your chest.

You were by no means easily swayed by people, but this guy had received praise from Kim Namjoon of all people, so he definitely had some prestige to his name. He doesn’t seem overbearing from this one text he’d sent, but he also didn’t seem completely disinterested.

You try to match his nonchalant energy, letting him know you were in fact free and down to meet him, just to let you know more details.

You won’t lie, there’s a giddy feeling bubbling within you at the prospect of getting all dolled up, hitting the town, pawning a free meal off some unsuspecting college soul, and maybe even hitting it off. It’s been a while since you’ve dated, sue you.

Jeon Jungkook’s response crushes those dreams as well as hurdles you straight into a nightmare.

cool!! was thinking i could cook for us at my place, drink a little wine, maybe Netflix and chill a little bit??

You are blown away by the absolute gall of this man, to butter you up by painting a pretty picture only to reduce you to a mere booty call. The fact he had felt confident enough to say all that within the same sentence blows your mind.

Did this Jeon Jungkook, who you had no idea of what he looked like, who had no idea of what you looked like, seriously just invite you over for some quote unquote Netflix and chill?

Who, in the ever living hell, was this guy who so sleazily invited women over to fuck with no qualms about who they were?

You’re offended that Namjoon would set you up like this, pawn you off to such a greasy friend. But then again, you guess not everyone knows their friends thoroughly, because this Jeon Jungkook flirtatiously inviting your over for some sex sounds nothing like the golden boy Kim Namjoon had raved about earlier this week. You click your phone off, tapping the device against your lips as you ponder how to best rip this jerk to shreds via text.

It’s amidst Doyeon cursing out her statistics teacher that an idea hits you.

Tomorrow was Saturday night, and as far as you knew, you really didn’t have anything else going on for you anyway. You’d take Jeon Jungkook’s offer, let him cook you a free meal and drink some of his wine. He mentioned having his own place, and vaguely you remember Namjoon saying he lived alone, hence his introverted tendencies, so you could slip in and out without doing that walk of shame through a boy’s dorm hall.

Not that there would be anything to feel shameful about. In fact, if you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality.

Ha! That would certainly teach the asshole not to use his poor, unsuspecting friends to reel in nice girls like you into one night stands.

You could practically feel the devil horns begging to poke out of your skull, the forked tail wiggling behind you, as you click your phone back on and text Jeon Jungkook a great!! what’s your address :)

——

Saturday morning and afternoon are as boring as they usually are. You do a little homework, and spend thirty minutes filling Doyeon in on your master plan, which she eats up and even gives you some pointers—“and then you can be like, ‘you sick freak, as if I’d let you near this 5-star, Michelin reviewed, Gordon Ramsey approved coochie’ and throw the whole plate at his head!”—before getting ready for your little date at Jeon Jungkook’s.

You try hard to look good, harder than you would have if he hadn’t offended you by reducing you to a booty call, and Doyeon helps. She does your eyebrows all nice and natural, dusts the thinnest shin of liquid highlighter across the high points of your face, the whole shebang until you’re looking like a sexy, glowing goddess. You shimmy into a pretty dress, nothing too fancy nor too casual, and even pull on those strappy sandals you’d bought on sale last winter before blowing a kiss to Doyeon and meeting your Uber downstairs.

You don’t quite remember what the reason behind Jeon Jungkook living in such a swanky neighborhood a few minutes from campus was, if it was from a job you vaguely recall Namjoon mentioning, or if it was just purely hereditary, but his place is nice. It’s a connected townhouse, something you’d expect a newly wed couple to live in and not some douchebag third year.

Worse comes to worse, you get banned from this rich neighborhood after humiliating one of its residents in his own home, not that you’d ever make it big enough to live here anyway.

You’d texted Namjoon sometime that morning to let him know you were meeting his friend, an ominous text with an even more ominous smiley face attached to it. But it seems Namjoon is easily blinded by underclassmen he trusts, if Jeon Jungkook’s assholish feats and your own suspicious behavior is anything to go by, because he texts you back a polite have fun! he’s a little shy, so it might take a while for the ball to start rolling hahahaha.

Shy my ass, you think closing the door of your Uber behind you. You double check the address that had been texted to you, walking up to the neat townhouse and knocking against the polished door.

It’s a little chilly, and you hope finding an Uber is easier later tonight when you make your grand escape. It’s between these thoughts that the door swings open, revealing the most handsome man you’ve ever met.

He’s attractive, disgustingly so, with dark hair and light brown tips to contrast, tickling his cheekbones. His dark eyes are round and imploring as they meet yours, gaze almost innocent and doe like as he takes you in. He’s got this soft, blue turtleneck on, and it looks like it should be a seasonal sweater reserved for the holidays but he pulls it off nicely on this premature spring night. His pretty pink lips move, and it takes you a second to realize he’s talking.

“___?” He says, and his voice is deep, yet soft in its own unique way. You nod, like a stupid bobble head, because your throat constricted the moment this beautiful angel opened the door. “It’s cold outside, come in!” He urges you, out stretching his palm to make sure you don’t trip over the slight step up the door as he brings you into his home.

“Hi,” he exhales when you’re finally inside, standing a little too close to you in his small entryway.

“Hi,” you finally choke out, a little dazed by how handsome he is, and the sudden realization that you’re supposed to throw your glass of wine at him tonight because he’s a douchebag dawns on you. You blink yourself out of your stupor, taking a step back and gesturing towards your sandal clad feet.

“Oh!” Jeon Jungkook exclaims at the sudden realization. “I forgot to set out a pair of slippers for you,” he sheepishly admits, before he excuses himself to go get some. There’s a tiny ottoman pushed against the wall, beneath a long mirror, that you take a seat on it, carefully unstrapping your sandals.

All the while, you’re deep in thought.

It makes sense that someone like Jeon Jungkook was so forward in inviting you over for sex during your first interaction. Realistically speaking, the guy had it all. He lived alone in a swanky townhouse in a wealthy neighborhood (you finally remember Namjoon saying he did some app developing for major companies—yeah, still in college but already making it big because he was that good), and looked like the blueprint for the perfect man, someone who’d impress your parents. On top of that, the man was was a 21st century Adonis. You hadn’t missed the flash of ink on his knuckles, or the way his jeans had hugged his legs.

He’s making his way back now, inspecting the slippers in his hands, and you don’t miss the way the jeans are pulled taut around his thighs in particular.

Yeah, he definitely knew his way around a woman’s body, there was no way he couldn’t have.

You slip your feet into the slippers he places before you, wiggling your toes around, before glancing back at Jungkook. He smiles warmly, a little beauty mark beneath his lip making itself known. He takes your hand, pulls you up onto your feet, and begins guiding you down the hall and to what you assume is the kitchen.

“I didn’t know what you liked, and I figured asking you three hours before you came over would be too awkward,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. He glances at you again, and upon seeing your inquisitive stare, quickly turns away with flushed cheeks.

Oh this man knew the game, and he knew it well.

Jeon Jungkook still thinks he can play that cute campus boy being set up by his senior card now, after he’d shown you his true colors last night via text. But he has a big storm coming. As much as you could admit he was good to look at, you would not be fooled by some pretty face and tasty food. No, you came here with one goal and one goal only, and that was to give Jeon Jungkook a piece of his own two-faced medicine before running off to tattle to Namjoon.

You reach the kitchen and the heavenly smell of Alfredo sauce swarms your nostrils. “I… I’m still new to cooking, so I hope you don’t mind some Alfredo pasta,” he admits, shy smile adorning his features as he avoids your gaze once again to toy with the dish towel by the sink.

You creep closer to the counter, where two meticulously presented ceramic plates sit beside a wine bottle, and the glands in your mouth suddenly go into overdrive in their rush to make you salivate, and you choke out an overly eager, “it looks amazing!” before you know it.

Okay, you came here with two goals.

——

Jungkook carries the two bowls in his big hands to the dining room beside the kitchen, and you follow behind with the bottle of wine and two glasses as you set the table together. The utensils are already there, but Jungkook runs back into the kitchen anyway to return with some fancy cloth napkins for the two of you.

Just as you're tugging a chair out to sit, Jungkook beats you to it. “Ah, let me,” he smiles, and your heart thunders nervously in your chest as you return the expression, brushing your hands beneath you before sitting down and letting him push you in. Jungkook takes his own seat in front of you, and before you can dig in he calls out to seemingly nobody, “Alexa, dim the dining room lights.”

The overhead lights dim, and with their overbearing glow gone, you can finally appreciate the battery powered candles snuggled neatly into a little bowl on the table between you two. You ooh appreciatively, and Jungkook looks proud of himself.

Then, he says, “Alexa, play…Date Night Playlist.”

You blink, and a soft piano tune begins filtering through a speaker he’s hidden somewhere in the room. Even with the fake candles being your main source of light, the flush on Jungkook’s cheeks is evident as he gestures towards you to eat.

You won’t lie. Jeon Jungkook was extremely endearing.

This much becomes evident the further you get into the meal. As small talk devolves into full fledged conversations and story telling, his shy demeanor slipping away but still sticking to the edges of his personality, you begin to have a more difficult time connecting this Jungkook to the one who had less than 24 hours ago asked you to come over and “Netflix and chill” with him.

But the more you speak, the more distant that image begins to feel. For one, Jungkook does put on a fairly reserved aura for you, telling you about his job but refusing to brag about it even when you egg him on. He has no qualms gassing up his friends, Namjoon in particular, who Jungkook claims is his role model for some unknown reason, given the fact they are neither in the same major nor in any of the same clubs. They’re friends, point blank period, but Namjoon is very obviously a star in Jungkook’s eyes.

Additionally, he’s quite embarrassed to admit why Namjoon had been so set on getting Jungkook to date, but eventually tells you it’s because Jungkook’s last girlfriend had been during your freshman year—two whole years ago! It makes you wonder what he’d been doing since then, if he’d used the time to fully invest in his work or if he’d been mingling around, unbeknownst to his friends, which would explain the flirtatious offer that landed you here.

Still, a part of you refuses to believe last night’s Jungkook and tonight’s Jungkook were one in the same, and if they were, what had made this shy man so unabashedly invite you over for some sex. Was this act all a ploy? Or maybe, was he purposefully trying to ward you away by coming off as a gentleman now that he’d seen your face and wasn’t interested in you anymore?

Apparently it’s neither of the two, and you don’t realize this until you finish your meal and make your way into his living room to finally get down to the long awaited Netflix and chilling. It’s only when you sit down on the couch, smack dab in the middle, because at this point, you’re not gonna throw your wine at Jeon Jungkook like you planned, he was too nice. And if this niceness was an act to get in your panties, you didn’t care at this point. He was hot, achingly so, and at least you’d get a good fuck out of it.

But as you said, apparently not. Because Jeon Jungkook sees you purposefully take up the entire middle of the couch, sultry eyes staring him down, and decides to sit flush against the armrest, somehow leaving a good foot between the two of you, despite the fact you’re sitting next to each other.

Your brain can’t work fast enough to comprehend the situation, before he’s asking you what you want to watch. “Um,” you say, pointedly staring at him and not the screen. “Tr-Transformers?”

The way Jungkook’s eyes light up is insane, already round eyes nearly popping out of their sockets as he eagerly rushes to select it from whatever streaming service he has, probably not even Netflix, all the while chattering on about how much he loves that series, and is so glad you do too.

The whole time, you’re struck by the oddness of his casual tone, the way he’s overly invested in the 20th Century Fox opening, and how he’s very carefully avoiding intruding in on your personal space.

The last point in particular has you wanting to pull your hair out, because you want Jeon Jungkook intruding in on your personal space. You want him pressed so tightly against you you can’t breathe, you can’t move, until you’re drowning in him as he finally lives up to his promise of some Netflix and chill, because you want him, and you want him so. very. bad.

“Oh, I forgot the popcorn!” Jungkook exclaims, and you jump at the sudden volume of his voice, because he’d been pretty silent as he avidly watched the first few minutes of the movie. “Sorry,” he chuckles, and his leg brushes against yours as he shuffles between you and the coffee table on his way out. You vaguely hear the popping of the popcorn in the kitchen, but you’re too distracted by your suddenly overwhelming thoughts.

Okay, one thing was for sure, and that was that Jeon Jungkook definitely had no fucking idea what the phrase Netflix and chill meant, because the way he’d zeroed in on the movie and the popcorn, and not you, was unheard of on such invitations. You deduce he probably heard it somewhere, and, now understanding the true nature of Jungkook’s sweet and shy personality, made no such perverted connection to the phrase.

Which meant he most definitely did not demean you to a mere booty call, like you’d deluded yourself into believing, someone he could hump and dump with no regrets, before calling Namjoon up to thank him. Which meant he’d had no ulterior motives in meeting you tonight, just planning to get to know you at the suggestion of his friend, and had—unbeknownst to him—successfully wooed you thus far.

Which was great! If you turned a blind eye to the evil, conniving plans you’d made without even meeting the guy, and the subsequent flood of self-inflicted disapproval when you realized Jeon Jungkook was a sweetheart who definitely did not deserve having a glass of wine thrown at his face after making you a home cooked meal and giving you the full Olive Garden experience, with his dimmed lights and candlelit dinner and piano music on the background.

Yeah. Perfectly fine.

The only problem now was that you had become so dangerously smitten with the man that you wanted to sleep with him. You wanted that Netflix and chill, needed it like it was the last slot in a daycare class and you were a soccer mom of five wanting to get at least one kid out of the house for the summer for the sake of her own sanity. You were desperate.

No, you scold yourself. This was fine, this was good, this was perfectly okay. If anything, this just further made you enamored with Jungkook, because it proved how gentlemanly he was by not trying to sleep with you on the first date.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to, the devil on your shoulder crooned.

The microwave in the kitchen stops, and you hear the sound of cabinets opening as Jungkook pours the popcorn into a bowl. On screen, the main character is meeting a bunch of giant cars-turned-robots, you don’t fucking know.

But the devil was right.

Jungkook hadn’t offered to sleep with you, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to. Furthermore, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be seduced into wanting to, your evil brain suggested, and the hope that had slithered it’s way into your chest from the very moment Jungkook had opened the door, took that fact and ran with it.

“What’d I miss?” Jungkook says when he returns, popcorn bowl in hand.

“Oh, um, he was with the car,” you offer, trying to stop the nefarious smirk from slipping onto your features. Jungkook laughs, cute and airy as he shuffles past you.

He’s too absorbed in the screen, not looking as he sits down, closer than last time until his thigh brushes yours and he jerks back in embarrassment. “Oh, sorry,” he flounders, goes to move away but you act fast.

You grab onto his upper arm with both of yours like an octopus, keeping him flush to you as you gaze up at him with wide eyes. “No, it’s okay,” you rush to assure him, loosening your hold as he tentatively relaxes beside you. You glance down at the popcorn bowl in his hand, swiping a piece to pop between your lips. “It’s easier for us this way,” you say, and you’re pulling that straight out of your ass, because you hate popcorn and have literally zero desire for it and wouldn’t have reached for it anyway if you weren’t trying to convince him this was all for popcorn sharing purposes.

Jungkook’s eyes briefly flicker down to where you’re munching on that popcorn, your lips, before he’s quickly averting his gaze. “Ah, y-yeah,” he agrees, and though he tries to relax back into the couch, you can still feel the tension of his muscles as he settles beside you.

With his eyes no longer trained on you, you snuggle closer into his side resting your cheek against the soft material covering his shoulder, finally letting that devious smirk slip onto your face. You keep yourself close to Jungkook, loving the way his warmth permeates the thick sweater he’s wearing, even if he’s still overly into the movie. You know he’s seen it before, because he keeps telling you random tidbits like, “they use this in the next movie!” Or “he ends up becoming really important in the sixth movie,” and you want to listen to this endearing nerd’s commentary, you really do, but once your brain is stuck on horny, it is stuck on horny.

He doesn’t even eat a lot of popcorn, setting it down not ten minutes later onto the coffee table. You release him as he moves forward, but quickly latch onto him again when he sits back down.

Much to your surprise, Jungkook is way more relaxed then, shrugging you off to rest his hand on the couch behind you, and you inwardly squeal at the prospect of getting to cuddle up to his body, and not just his arm. You cuddle in close to him, leaving your slippers on the ground as you tuck your legs up onto the couch cushions.

Jungkook is so warm and firm, and you know it’s your horny brain speaking, but you swear you feel a tight set of abs underneath the palm you rest on his stomach, and you give an experimental brush over the area. His heart picks up, you hear it by where your head is leaning against his chest, and you tilt your head up to give him a curious glance. His cheeks are red, and he doesn’t look at you even though you know he sees you, so you decide to kick things up a notch.

You sigh loudly, peeling yourself away from him to properly level him with a pout. “Jungkook, aren’t you hot in this?” You ask, pinching the wooly material between two fingers and pulling it from his skin. Jungkook finally looks away from the screen, nibbling his lower lip as he takes in your quizzical expression.

“Um, only a little… but it’s fine!” He rushes to say, and you recall from your conversations over dinner that Jungkook doesn’t much like people fussing over him, so you quickly change gears.

You press a hand against your cheek, the same one that had been resting against his shoulder earlier. “Oh, well… it’s really itchy,” you announce, and his eyes widen, one hand absentmindedly reaching to clutch the material at his chest. “It’s making me really itchy,” you emphasize, and part of you feels bad for taking advantage of his caring nature, but this is all for the greater good, you convince yourself. “Do you mind taking it off?”

“I, uh, yeah,” he agrees, reaching for the hem of his sweater before carefully peeling it off. When he pulls it over his head, you can’t help the triumphant grin that overtakes your face, though you quickly mask it when he finally frees himself from the material. “Better?” He says once he’s clad in only a plain black shirt.

“Mm, much,” you sigh, and nearly soak your panties then and there when a tattooed sleeve comes into view. “Woah!” You exclaim, snatching his wrists up to examine his skin. “What’s this?” You marvel, tracing every inch of delicious skin with your predatory gaze. Jungkook huffs out a laugh, and you glance up to watch as he rubs the back of his neck in that same embarrassed way he’d done multiple times throughout your night together.

“My tattoos,” he says, and then seems to realize the simplicity of his statement and rushes to add to it, “I hope you don’t mind?”

You hum, shifting onto your knees to face him as you continue tracing over a huge tiger lily by his forearm. “Why would I? It’s your body,” you say, and watch the nervous glance melt off his face as he regards you with something new. Something akin to wonder as he lets you trace over more of his ink, nodding along to your words.

“Yeah… yeah!” He agrees, and you grin at his sudden zeal. He chuckles, physically relaxing beneath your touch, and it’s probably the most relaxed he’s been all night as you continue rubbing your hands over every tattoo on his skin, and then purposefully focusing on the ones near his bicep. “Sorry, ‘m just used to people pushing off their own opinions about them onto me,” he explains, and for a moment, the horniness that had been fueling you all night fades away, and you let your hands trail down, past his wrist, until you’re sandwiching his hand between yours.

“Fuck what anyone else thinks,” you tell him, eyes hard as you imagine anyone imposing their stupid thoughts on Jungkook, who was too good for this world. “If you think they’re cool, then they're the coolest thing in the world.”

He smiles at you, and you’ve seen this smile about a million times tonight—when you first came in, when you talked about yourself at dinner, when you mentioned this stupid movie—but it has something swelling in your chest. Something too intimate for a first date, so you quickly move to repress it.

Glancing down at his hand in yours, littered with smaller tattoos across his knuckles, your brain whirls into action. Bringing it up between the two of you, you turn his hand over to line your palms up. “Wow, your hands are so big,” you sigh, slowly reverting back to dirty thoughts as you twist yours and Jungkook’s hands this way and that. He snorts, bends the tips of his fingers over yours just to hear you ooooh again.

“Yeah, they’re pretty big,” he agrees, completely ignoring the film playing on the screen, which is a huge win in your eyes considering how deeply he’d been watching it earlier.

Finally, you see an opening and pounce.

“Well, that means something else is pretty big too,” you murmur, chancing a glance up at his face. His face is the perfect definition of composed, and you can tell when exactly he processes your words because those little pink lips part in surprise, red slowly filling the apples of his cheeks. You let go of his palm, letting it slide between your fingers until it falls limp beside him.

Jungkook watches you with wide eyes, as you raise yourself up onto your knees. “Jungkook?” You mumble, giving him no warning before you’re throwing a leg across his lap, knees pressed into the couch on either side of his thighs.

“Y-Yes?” He stutters, brown hair falling away from his face as he stares up at you. You flash him a sweet smile, and you can tell it relaxes him because his fists unclench beside him.

“You’re a really nice boy,” you sigh, and when you’ve scooted your knees a little closer to his ridiculously thin waist, you finally let yourself sit. You find yourself right before his crotch, which he desperately tries to hide as he shifts around, but can’t with you on top of him. You let your hands flutter to rest at his shoulders, and he gulps. “You’re so sweet and cute,” you add, relish in the flush that climbs up to his ears. “But I’m a little sad you invited me over to Netflix and chill, but won’t do just that,” you pout, a finger tangling itself in a soft strand at the back of his head.

“Huh?” He stutters, eyes nearly bulging out when you wiggle around again. “I-I’m sorry?” He huffs, and when you move too close to his crotch, where his jeans are slowly growing more and more strained, he panics and reaches a hand out to steady your waist.

You feign confusion, flashing him another pout as you duck closer until your noses bump against each other. “You know what it means, don’t you, Jungkook?” You inquire, eyes falling dangerously lidded as you swallow up every inch of his appearances.

He stutters, hands moving up and down as if he doesn’t know where to put them anymore. But you know exactly where Jungkook can put those hands, and you waste no time catching his wrists in your hands to guide him towards your hips. “No?” He breathes, fingers flexing against you, and you smile sweetly at him.

“It means,” you purr, shifting forward until you’re flush against where you need him most. You can barely contain the whimper that climbs out of your throat when you finally feel the rough material of his jeans against your panties. “It means you wanna fuck, Jungkook,” you exhale, tossing your head back as your body basks in the slight reprieve, the way Jungkook squirms beneath you aiding greatly in providing that sensation you craved.

“It’s nothing more than an excuse,” you huff, placing a hand on the back of his neck to steady yourself. At your touch, Jungkook jolts, thighs jumping beneath you and you stifle another groan when the zipper of his jeans prods against your core. “For you to fuck my brains out while some s-stupid movie plays in the background.”

You’re not sure when, but sometime during that last explanation your hands had fully delved into the thick tresses of Jungkook’s hair. You give an experimental tug, and poor Jungkook, so lost in all that you’re telling him, lolls his head back for you easily until the long expanse of his neck is available, soft creamy skin yours for the taking.

You pounce, kissing the skin gently at first, before sprinkling in a handful of nibbles. He’s sensitive, devastatingly so, as he gasps at a particular suck. You suction your lips on the spot below his ear, carefully biting down on the skin as he unravels beneath you. “Will you do it, Jungkookie?” You murmur against the shell of his ear,

He nods eagerly, and his fingers hurt where he’s pressed them deep into your waist, like he’s trying to brand you as his with his mere strength alone. “Y-Yes,” he exhales, hips jerking when you swipe your tongue over the pretty mark you’d left on his perfect skin.

You smother your smirk against his neck, grinding down on him once again. “Yes what?” You tease, and let his strong hands roll you against him afterwards.

“Yes, I-I’ll…” he stumbles, eyes dazed as he watches you through hooded lids. You raise a brow at him, shifting in his lap. It’s enough to kickstart him back up, and he’s biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. “I’ll fuck you, I’ll fuck you just like you want,” he rambles. He surprises you when he begins rutting up against you, so animalistic and uncontrolled, nothing like the sweet Jungkook that had indulged you over dinner. “I’ll make you come, p-promise,” he rasps.

You smirk down at him, hoping he doesn’t see the metaphorical horns sticking out of your head the further he falls into your trap. Before he can say anything else, you surge forward, slotting your mouths together for the first time that night.

It’s no surprise that Jungkook kisses just like he speaks, carefully like he’s afraid one hard press of his lips will ward you off. His lips are smooth, a fact you’d hyper-fixated on all night as he spoke, but before you can ponder on that any further, something hot and wet is prodding at your lower lip.

The gasp you barely manage to contain ends up escaping anyway when Jungkook’s hand comes up to cup the side of your face, tilting your head to the side as his tongue slithers into your mouth. You become obsessed with the way he touches you, every bit the gentlemen he’d been all night, fingers just barely pressing into your cheek like he doesn’t want to mess up your makeup. His other hand, snuggly wrapped around your waist, pulls you tighter against him until your chests are pressed together.

And that tongue. That tongue of his that leaves no room for argument, quickly shutting down any attempts of yours to overtake him. He’s graceful about it too, one nudge enough to convince you he’s got this, he’ll take care of you. You whimper, a sound Jungkook swallows before he’s biting down on your lower lip.

When he pulls away, his lips are red and glossy, and you wonder if yours are too. “Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he sighs, gazing at you like he can’t believe you’re there in front of him.

Before you can say anything else, he’s burying his face in the crook of your neck to brush kisses over your skin. “Let me eat you out,” he begs, but his voice is so silky and smooth that it doesn’t sound so much as a plea as much as it does a suggestion. He licks a stripe up your neck, and you jump in his hold.

It’s at this moment where the sudden realization hits you, the feeling of having the reins yanked out of your hands. You so vividly controlled every aspect of Jungkook just a few moments ago, when you’d had your own mouth on his neck, and carefully coaxed him into some sex.

But it seems Jeon Jungkook isn’t as soft or as pliable as you had dubbed him to be, and if the way he’s begun subtly rolling your hips into his crotch is any sign, he certainly wasn’t the submissive type either. Which leaves you wondering, exactly what type of person was Jungkook in bed?

Well, you had all night to figure that out.

“Hey,” he whines suddenly, ripping you out of your thoughts. You glance down at him, registering the bored set of his eyes and the unimpressed quirk of his lips. “Pay attention to me.”

You blink, lips twitching. You can barely muffle the giggle that tears itself from your throat, leaning your forehead on his shoulder as your body shakes at his suddenly childish words. Jungkook chuckles too, as if suddenly realizing how out of place his own statement was. “Sorry,” he smiles, cheeks pleasantly rosy and you can’t even stop yourself from kissing him silly.

Jungkook, bless his heart, let’s you rain down a good three kisses on him before he’s pushing you down on the couch beside him. There’s still a slight gleam in his eyes, but the rest of his face schools itself into a hungry expression as he drinks in your body laid out before him. “Let me eat you out?” He asks again, voice but a soft whisper.

You nod, heart beating loudly in your chest as he shuffles down until he can press a kiss to the tops of your thighs. He hasn’t even done anything that intense yet, but you already feel the muscles in your leg ready to spasm just from his proximity.

He’s mouthing at your skin, nudging your legs apart, and you, usually so confident in your sexuality, can’t find the courage to look at him as he so lovingly carries out his ministrations.

As if sensing your sudden bout of shyness (you! shy! Doyeon was gonna tease you about this for the rest of your life once you recapped this for her), he places a soft kiss just below where the hem of your dress begins, before pulling back and uttering, “this okay?”

You hum in response, face warm from just imagining how good he must look down there, peppering your skin with kisses. Your heart nearly rips itself out of your chest when a strong set of fingers wraps around your wrist suddenly, sliding over and around your hand until he’s tangled them with yours.

At this, you nearly break your neck trying to look at him, only to be met with an amused smile. Jungkook gives your hand a squeeze, and you barely get to appreciate the schoolgirl flood of emotions in your chest, when suddenly his free hand comes out of left field, cupping the back of your knee to push your legs further apart, before gliding across the expanse of your thigh to push your dress up.

If Jungkook holding your hand was enough to make your heart skip a beat, Jungkook pressing a chaste kiss to your panty-clad mound was enough to send you into cardiac arrest. Your leg twitches at the sudden touch, a gasp catching in your throat at the delicate path he kisses over your panties, until he’s flicking his tongue over your clit. “Oh,” you moan, and against your better judgment, your free hand is tangling itself in his silky strands.

Jungkook smirks, what sounds like a tiny chuckle muffled as he continues mouthing along your sex, until your panties are soaked both from your arousal and his saliva. Your little thong stares him in the face, and he groans at the sight, glancing up at you with those wide eyes of his like you’re his entire world. “Can I?”

Jungkook gives your clit one final kiss, before he lets go of your hand, and you can’t help the whine that leaves you upon the lost contact. Jungkook eats it up, pressing a kiss turned smile against your knee as he tugs your underwear down. It coils up as it goes, until he’s pulling a tightly twisted maroon thong off your ankles, and tossing it off somewhere behind him.

If his mouth felt good through your panties, it feels even better without. You mewl when he brushes his lips over your clit, plush lips working your sensitive bundle of nerves, sly tongue occasionally creeping out to toy with you further. “Jungkook,” you cry out, back arching. He licks and slurps likes he’s a starved man, and you're the first meal he’s ever had. You want to sob from how good it feels, his tongue flicking over your bud like he just can’t get enough.

He pulls away to catch your gaze, doesn’t let it go as he runs a lone finger over your slit, coating the digit in your own arousal, before carefully plunging it into your warm, wet heat. “Is this good?” He rasps out, watching your facial expressions carefully as he wiggles his finger deeper into your core, his other hand wrapped around your thigh to keep you still. You moan, feeling like a boneless heap of organs beneath this insanely handsome man who can’t keep his hands off your quivering pussy.

His fingers don’t let up, slowly pulling out before plunging back in. The room fills with disgustingly wet sounds, but that fact drifts to the back of your head the faster his fingers go. Your eyes roll into your head, your body twitching with each press of his fingers.

“Is it good, pretty?” He repeats, and since you’re not looking at him anymore, the sudden lick against your clit has your back arching and your thighs quivering with surprise. “Tell me it’s good, ___,” Jungkook croons, and you nod in a hurry.

“It’s good!” You cry, moaning loudly when he slips another finger into you, scissoring the two inside of you. “It’s so good, Jungkook—y-you’re so good,” you moan, and nearly cry actual tears when he curls his fingers inside of you, pressing down against the most sensitive spot within you.

Jungkook doesn’t let up, continues licking and slurping against your sensitive bud, even when your orgasm hits and you’re begging him to stop. He doesn’t let you go until he feels the warmth coat his fingers, feels the wetness begging to seep out of your plugged pussy. He lets you go then, only to move closer to your hole and replace his fingers with his mouth. There, he carefully catches and collects the cum that trickles out, mouth warm against your trembling body.

Your body quivers with each long drag of his tongue over your sensitive cunt, and you’re about to ask him to stop, when he finally pulls away and pushes himself over you, arms caging you in as he stares down at your withered form. “Kiss,” you manage to gasp out, and Jungkook raises an eyebrow in question. “Kiss me,” you repeat, and then, thoughtfully, “please.”

Jungkook complies, leans down to connect your mouths in a sweet kiss. You’re blinded by the delicacy of it all, that you in no way see coming the sudden substance that slides down your throat from his own. You choke at the sudden intrusion, belatedly realizing it’s your cum he’s pushing down your throat, the cum he didn’t swallow.

“That’s it, pretty,” Jungkook croons, licking up the residual come that hadn’t made it into your mouth. “See how you taste for me. Isn’t it sweet?” He murmurs, pushing his tongue into your mouth as if he regretted not saving any for himself. It’s the first time you’ve had your own pleasure in your mouth, so you’re not exactly sure how to feel. What you do feel is the overwhelming surge of arousal at seeing Jungkook rave about it and lap it up inside your own mouth.

He kisses you for a few moments, mouth moving languidly along yours. One hand reaches down to rub soothingly at your inner thigh, like he’s coaxing the feeling back into your body after lulling you into one of the most heavenly orgasms of your entire life. You whimper when he bites down on your lower lip, like you’re still too sensitive to reciprocate, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. He lets you go, licks over where he’d bitten like an apology.

After a few minutes of just this, of feeling like the most cherished girl in the entire world, Jungkook finally pulls away and levels you with a dashing smile. “All good?” He asks, hands still trailing up your waist until they’re framing the swell of your breasts, where he gently circles your nipple.

You nod, dazedly staring up at him and it’s at this exact moment that you realize there’s something stiff poking at your hip. You glance down, and Jungkook glances down with you, until you’re both staring at the hard on he’s hiding beneath his jeans. Jungkook chuckles, low and dark by your ear as he experimentally presses it against you.

Before you can stop yourself, your hand is untangling itself from around his shoulders and slithering down his front. You cup his erection, his shaky exhale giving you the courage to toy with his belt buckle until it’s undone and you're battling with the button on his jeans instead. You put up a good fight, but in the end the angle is too tight for you to properly undo it, and Jungkook brushes your hands away with a soft kiss to your lips.

He pushes himself off you, and you’re immediately craving the warm press of his body against yours the second he’s gone. “Get that dress off for me, pretty girl,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head, rendering you completely speechless as you gawk at his body. Jungkook glances down at you as he goes to undo his pants, a shapely brow raising in your direction and a soft quirk of his lips gesturing for you to do as you’re told.

You spur into action, wiggling the dress up and over your breasts until you’re pulling it over your head and letting it drop beside you on the floor. You’re just in time to see Jungkook push his jeans down his hips, a classic black Calvin Klein underwear band glaring back at you.

The chance to marvel at Jungkook’s thin waist framed by that tight underwear is gone as quickly as it came, and you’re greeted with an even more mouthwatering sight when he pushes the elastic band down, and that big cock you had alluded to springs out of its confines. You groan, subconsciously rolling your hips into the air as you take in the sight of his cock, mushroom tip swollen and flushed. There’s a thick vein that runs along the underside of it, one you only see when Jungkook grasps his dick in his hand and tugs upward like this isn’t his true form, and he can get bigger.

“Ready?” He asks, biting down on his lip as he continues to stroke himself. You nod, wiggling closer to him until the backs of your thighs rest on top of his, knees knocking against his waist. He grants you one more of those kind smiles, before he’s leaning down to press a hand beside your head, the other lining himself up with your soaked entrance.

Running his cock over your folds one last time, collecting as much of your cum as he can, he brushes a kiss against your cheekbone before he’s pushing in. You moan, throwing your hands around his neck as he pierces through the initial ring of muscle surrounding your warm heat. “Holy shit,” you choke, mouth dropped open as you pant like a dog against his shoulder. “J-Jungkook,” you cry, legs tightening around his waist the closer his body presses against yours.

Once he’s at the hilt, pelvis flush against you, you can’t help the series of whines and mewls that escape your lips from being so comfortably filled to the brim.

To your surprise, Jungkook is the first to speak. “Fuck,” he groans, breath hot against your ear. He sounds fucked out, once silky voice raspy with need as he grinds his hips against you tentatively. “This is what you wanted, isn't it?” He huffs, both hands coming down to wrap around your waist, your back arching under the wonderful hands that find themselves squeezing every inch of your back in an effort to pull you closer.

His mouth brushes against yours from this new position, and Jungkook puckers his lips, tongue coming out to lick at your bottom lip. You nearly cry when he finally pulls his hips away, relieves his cock from your tight heat before surging back in. “Wanted this from the moment you walked in, didn’t you, sweetheart?” Jungkook grunts, repeats the same motion until he’s picked up a steady pace of pushing and pulling, each roll of his hips sending a shock of ecstasy crawling up your spine.

You nod, eyes screwed shut as pleasure warms every inch of your body. It’s even worse to not see, because every sound and every touch is magnified tenfold, until you’re drowning in sensations. Jungkook’s choked groans, the slide of his hips, they all become too much too quickly and you’re choking back a sob.

“Fuck,” he groans, glancing down at your withered form like an animal as he picks up his pace. His hold on you tightens, never letting your body move away from him and he begins jack hammering in his thrusts, swallowing your cries with his lips. “Had me thinking you were a nice girl,” he huffs, and you wonder if he knows how tightly he’s holding you, how this grip will most likely leave you with fingerprint bruises tomorrow morning. But then again, you don’t care. All you care about is Jungkook’s voice and his body, guiding you toward completion. “But all you wanted was a quick fuck.”

You steel yourself to look at him again, and when your eyes finally open and focus, you’re wishing you hadn’t because Jungkook looks so hot over you. His pretty eyes, the ones that had led you into a false sense of comfort throughout the night and tricked you into believing he would be easy to bend to your every whim, are hard now. “Isn’t that right, doll?” He spits, and you whine when he punctuates this question with a particularly brutal thrust of his hips. His balls slap against your ass, and you squirm beneath him as you begin to feel the beginnings of an orgasm build in your core.

“I-I thought—“ you stammer, tone pitched from the way he jostles you with every thrust he gives. “Y-You wanted that,” you weekly defend, canting your hips down in a feeble attempt to progress this along.

He snorts, captures your lips in a rushed kiss where he wastes no time snaking his tongue inside your mouth. His saliva trickles into your mouth, and you whine as he purposefully lets it happen, pulls away just the slightest to pucker his lips and let a thick trail of spit fall straight into your open mouth. Satisfied with his little stunt, he rams his cock against you once more.

“If you wanted a quick fuck,” he says, nearly loses himself in your pussy, “you came to the wrong guy, sweetheart.”

You’re too caught up in the nice drag of his cock against your pussy, the tip of his cock stopping him from ever pulling out completely, that it takes you a second to process his words. “H-Huh?” You choke, teary eyes flickering across his face wildly as if the answer will be right in plain sight.

But all you’re met with is the soft pull of his lips as he flashes you a smirk, pearly white teeth tugging at the pink flesh, as he levels you with a glare of his own. Before you can question him further, he’s letting go of your waist to hike your knees into the crook of his elbows, his pouty lips growing further away as he leans back.

This shift has his cock nudging up, rubbing against the hood of your clit where a bundle of nerves he’d only briefly brushed before sits. You shriek in pleasure, writhing beneath him as the sudden sensation hits you full force. “Jungkook!” You sob, his hips slowing to a grind as he watches your face crumble beneath him.

“You like that?” He murmurs, rutting his hips against you shallowly. The change of pace, the rabid piston of his hips slowing to this, has your body melting into his touch. You barely manage a nod, eyes fluttering open and shut as his hips move sensually against you.

His cock brushes against that sensitive spot with each roll of his hips, and you’re a mewling, puddle of emotion by the third thrust. “Pretty girl,” he hums, letting go of one leg to place a hand above your mound, thumb circling your clit until you’re trembling beneath him. “Did you think I would fuck you and kick you out?” He husks, watching your body like he’s a lion and you’re his prey.

Your brain is far from comprehending anything at this point, reduced to a mere mass of nothingness as he continues moving against you, fingers rubbing your clit in all the right ways.

“Well, you were wrong about that, doll,” he huffs, and you’re blessed with the sight of his head lolling back as he loses himself in the tight grip of your pussy, skin glistening with sweat, trailing from behind his ear and over his neck, until you’re watching a pearl roll over his collarbones. “I don’t do that,” he informs you, and he pinches your clit between two fingers, hard enough that you almost miss his next words as you moan. “No, baby, I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he spits, and you whimper at his words. Finally, he lets go of your knees, right as you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm and you moan out in protest as he ducks down to cage you between his arms again.

“Please,” you beg, voice hoarse as his hips slowly return to their pace from before. He’s still not pulling out as much, keeping his thrusts shallow as he kisses a trail up your neck and over your jaw.

“Gonna fuck you so good, you don’t ever want to leave, pretty,” he says, kisses the corner of your mouth as his hips pick up pace. You wanna cry, feeling so warm and cherished in his arms, his voice telling you how good you’re doing as the coil in your stomach tightens and tightens until you’re begging him for more. “Do you want that?”

“Yes! Yes!” You sob, rolling your hips against his like a madman as you chase your high.

Jungkook hums, smile smushed against your lips as he watches you desperately writhing beneath him. “Yeah? You want that?” You nod, mewls swallowed by his kisses. “Then cum for me, pretty girl.”

You whimper, just as he bucks into you once more, and suddenly you’re falling apart. It starts in your lower back, the ecstasy climbing it’s way through your body until you’re quivering and sobbing in his embrace, muffling your sounds against his shoulder. The muscles in your entire body tighten painfully, until suddenly a wave of contentment washes over you, and you’re too weak to even hold onto him anymore, arms flopping back onto the couch cushions beneath you.

The whole time, Jungkook mutters encouragement against your jaw, keeps his thrusts short but quick, guiding you through your orgasm. When you’re done, he presses an open mouthed kiss beneath your ear, pulling away to look at your boneless frame beneath him.

A few pistons of his hips later, and Jungkook is coming inside of you, cum coating your walls as he hammers his way through his orgasm. He pulls out when he’s done, and you instantly feel your mixed arousal drip out between your thighs.

Woozy from the wine and the two orgasms, you fall asleep soon after.

——

“Good morning,” you murmur, standing at the doorway leading into the kitchen, an area you’d only been able to find after stumbling around the upstairs of the house in confusion.

Jungkook whirls around, wide eyes taking in your appearance. You clutch at the hem of the big t-shirt you’d pulled on, the only article of clothing you saw that was thrown over a chair in a bedroom you didn’t dare snoop around. “Morning,” he exhales, calculating gaze never leaving you as you tiptoe over to him by the counter.

He doesn’t say more, spluttering into action when you peek over his shoulder to see what he’s up to. “What’re you making?” You inquire, and his hands begin fidgeting with the knife.

“Oh, um,” he stutters, and perhaps he’s overly aware of your presence so close beside him, because he suddenly doesn’t remember how he’s supposed to cut an avocado. Cute, you think. “Just, um, toast with avocado spread…”

You hum. After a moment, it seems Jungkook is able to quell his nerves, and he carefully slices the avocado open, spreading its innards across the toast. He hands you the first piece, which you take after masking your own surprise, and soon after he’s turning away from the counter as the two of you eat in silence.

After a few thoughtful munches of bread, you speak. “Thanks for carrying me to bed,” you say, refusing to look at him.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, almost a little too fast and you barely bite down a grin as he rambles on. “Wasn’t gonna leave you on the couch, especially not when you were so tired after… ah, yeah.”

It’s the reserved way he carries himself that gives you the balls to look at him. His ears are flushed adorably red, like when you were at dinner last night talking about his job, and all you wanna do is pinch his cheeks. “Yeah,” you agree, and then add with an air of faux shyness, “you were really cool last night.”

It’s the little devil in you begging to jump out, curious to see how far you can push Jungkook before he shifts into that suave version of himself from last night, and you would feel bad had the corner of his lips not tilted up in amusement.

He chokes out a laugh, mutters a “yeah?” and you don’t stop yourself when you jump into his arms and kiss that avocado spread right off his lips.

——

On Tuesday afternoon, Kim Namjoon is in the midst of delivering another sermon-like speech on the importance of utilizing your student ID when visiting any of the Starbucks within a two mile radius of your school, when you spot a chestnut head of hair from the corner of your eye.

“Sorry, Joon! My ride's here!” You yelp, shoving your notebook into your bag as you stumble over yourself in your haste to leave.

Namjoon blinks. “Huh? I thought you lived on campus?”

You nod, that giddy feeling starting up in your chest as he comes closer to where you and Namjoon have taken up residence on a table in the commons for your weekly meeting, and by the time he reaches the table Namjoon is still in the midst of questioning you.

“Jungkook,” You say, all dreamily and dazed, and you know this because Doyeon caught you with this same exact look on your face after he dropped you off at the dorms Sunday afternoon.

Namjoon startles. “What the f—“

“Hi,” Jungkook beams, leans down to brush a kiss against your cheek, which only serves to make you even more ditzy and dumb in the face of this handsome man. “Oh, hey, hyung.”

“What’re you doi—“

“All set?” Jungkook asks you, completely ignoring whatever his beloved senior was saying in favor of taking your bag off your shoulders. You nod, have to swallow a giggle down when he takes your hand in his. “Bye, hyung.”

“Bye, Joon!” You barely remember to throw over your shoulder, too busy wrapping yourself around Jungkook’s arm to hear Namjoon blabber in shock.

“Kids these days,” he huffs.

[ part 2 ; hulu & woohoo ]

#jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #goldenclosetnet #ksmutclub #jjk smut #bts smut #mine

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notnctu · 4 years

Text

through the lens ❀ l.jn

❀ lee jeno x fem!reader ❀ genre - slow burn, smut/mature content, fluff (romance?), slight angst ❀ details - photographer!jeno, model!reader, college!au, shy!jeno but he aint shy in bed, strangers to fuckers!au ❀ word count - 8k (this is the longest thing ive ever written) ❀ warnings - nude modeling, swearing, oral (f/receiving), some sweet love makin’ ❀ brief synopsis - jeno asks you to model for his internship project, but little did you know, it was going to be a nude photo shoot.

❝ jeno was too shy to hold eye contact, but he stared at you endlessly through the lens. ❞

❀ a/n - hihihi this is author doie❀ ! im bad at writing smut so pls dont hate me ah ha lol i tried my best i also dont model/do professional photography so really apologize if i butcher any terms lmaoo the only thing i am is that im in college and im shy

Jeno had applied to almost a hundred internships and almost close to none returned with an offer, even after a whole month of waiting. He absolutely needed to start building his portfolio before the beginning of his senior year of college. The embarrassment of possibly graduating without any experience loomed over the desperate boy.

Photography had been more than a hobby to him, to the point where he wanted to take it seriously. His parents weren’t the most supportive of an Arts major, but that couldn’t stop him. Jeno saw the best through a camera lens. He had a special eye for beautiful moments and the impressing urge to capture it forever.

It was too late to change his major, if he wanted to graduate with all of his friends. If he wanted to be successful, he had to act on it now.

The swoosh! of a new email startled the sleeping boy. He stared at the brightly lit screen, reading the words over and over again to make sure it was real. Jeno was so enthralled with excitement that he scrambled out of bed to wake up his roommate, Jaemin.

He shook him so violently that the sheets fell from Jaemin’s warm body. “Dude! I got an internship!” He spoke with incredible glee, a wide smile couldn’t leave his face.

Jaemin groaned and had to hold Jeno by the shoulders to halt the boy from causing the room to spin. “Why--What is going on?” He dazely rubbed his tired eyes to blink at his giddy roommate.

The screen blinded Jaemin as it was shoved too closely to adjust. “Whoa--,” he pushed it away and shut his eyes, “--repeat what you just said one more time.” Jaemin held a finger up and Jeno grabbed it, jumping onto his best friend’s bed.

“I got an internship. Someone got back to me.” Jaemin returned the same excitement the moment he processed his words. He shot up in bed and hugged his friend tightly.

“Wo-w, dude! Congratulations!” The two boys hurried on their feet to cheer together. There was no concern for the rest of their housemates, only celebration that roared throughout the entire night.

Truthfully, Jeno had no recollection of applying to this studio. It could have been a random link on a job scouting website, but he couldn’t be more grateful. An internship was long overdue and Jeno had been itching to get some recognition for his craft.

“Hello, I’m Lee Jeno.” He bowed slightly at the receptionist, who had a stern stare that made him feel vulnerable. The first thing he noted about the office: white and minimalistic.

Jeno’s specialty was landscape photography. His aesthetics consisted of black and white filters, city lights, dark mood lighting, and background commotion. He enjoyed capturing chaos the most, a scene where more than one thing was happening. The only reason being that there was more to look at.

“Nice to meet you. The name is Lee Taemin, but you can call me what you please.” A young, lean man strolled his way towards Jeno with a wide grin and his hand for him to shake. Taemin was slightly shorter than him, but his stylish, expensive boots made up for his height. He had to be only a maximum of five years older than Jeno as Taemin appeared relatively youthful.

Taemin’s firm grip pulled Jeno along inside the studio. A small gasp escaped from Jeno which earned robust laughter from the older man. “I hope you can break out of your shell soon. There is no room for timidness around here, Mister Lee.”

“Please, you can call me Jeno.” He smiled, quite awkwardly at the beautiful man.

The tall glass windows, the concrete, gray floor, the white doors that lined the hallway, had to be all too predictable. Jeno envisioned this is what high class must look like. It was the pristine, bright feeling and the smell of vanilla that lingered distastefully. There was chatter behind the closed doors --- mainly directing, and high praises.

The only off-put was that photographers worked behind closed doors. From the few studios he has visited previously, photographers often worked in open spaces due to lighting fractures or the ability to roam more freely.

“I’m actually very ecstatic you signed up for the internship, since you do seem a bit on the younger side.” Taemin gestured toward the sofa in the middle of his massive office. Jeno sat across from him. Water was already placed on the glass coffee table that separated the two. A laptop was opened to face Taemin.

Jeno slyly rubbed the condensation from his palms on his jeans. Taemin’s stare bore deep into the shy boy, who had to break eye contact from time to time. “I know.” Jeno chuckled nervously, “thank you for getting back to me. I was really hoping to gain work experience through mentorship.”

Taemin nodded at everything Jeno was saying. His face being completely expressionless. Jeno sipped his water to regain moisture in his dry throat. Taemin was more intimidating than he was anticipating. “Sounds great. Happy to have you here. It might be a small business, but the experience is worth investing in. Every photographer who has come in and out of my building has found their forte. Let’s say, it’s eye opening.”

“That’s exactly what I was looking for actually.” As scared as he was of this mysterious man, he really enjoyed the comfort the environment radiated.

Taemin leaned forward and squinted at the screen. “I noticed in the portfolio you sent that you don’t have any portraits or any people, in general, in your photos. Do you have any works with people? Since this is a studio of fine art nude photography.”

Nude. Jeno practically choked on the last remaining spit he gathered. Taemin acknowledged the boy’s shocked reaction and tilted his head curiously, “you did know that I specialize in contemporary fine art nude photography, right?” Unfortunately, Jeno did not.

Jeno cleared his throat, “yes, of course. I wanted to challenge myself.” He had to lie, there was no other way to cover up his disbelief. This internship was the only hope left for him to gain something. Though, even the thought of shooting a naked body made him anxious.

He hated how timid he was. His friends and family say otherwise, mainly for the reason that Jeno automatically lit up behind a camera. In all honesty, he hid behind it. It was the only safe place that Jeno knew what he was doing. However when it came to real life situations without it, he lacked the confidence to be himself.

As ironic as it was, he hated being seen. He liked to be the background character in his own life, because the main character took too much of a toll. It could also be his deafening insecurities and lack of self esteem, but Jeno didn’t mind not being the center of attention.

“You like a challenge?” It was more of a statement rather than a question. Jeno caught a glimpse of the twinkle in Taemin’s dark eyes. “Then for your first task, I want you to show me that you can take on this role.”

Jeno scrambled for his phone to jot down notes. “Send me an emotional portfolio, model of your choice. They could be a friend of yours that you feel comfortable seeing naked. It must include a variation of headshots, full body, and body details. It must also be raw and unedited photos. I want to see if you have the eye for the art to capture these types of images.”

“When would you like it by?” He stammered, completely winded at the sudden project that unloaded on top of him.

“Next Friday, and you’ll present it to me here in person. Feel free to use this studio if you don’t have a place of your own with equipment. All you need to do is book a room with the front desk. Any other questions?” The sound of the laptop shutting caused Jeno to look up at the brilliance in front of him. He needed Taemin to help him succeed.

“Why do you take nude photography?”

Taemin was unable to stop the laughter that erupted into the room. “I don’t run a pimp business or sell soft core porn, if that’s why you’re staring at me so funnily. What I make is an art masterpiece, it has nothing to do with physical features or desires. It’s the pure emotion that clothing distracts from. Clothing conforms the model into an aesthetic, and while that works for editorials, it won’t be a consistent thing here.”

Jeno nodded understandingly. Overwhelmed and lost at words. He was unsure what he had gotten himself into. Where was he going to find a model on such short notice on such lewd conditions? He was really going to need to step out of his comfortable zone, in his photography and social skills.

Taemin stood up and extended his hand once more. “I take pride in my art, so I hope you, too, start finding that in your own.”

Jaemin held his stomach from the endless laughter, tears welling up in his eyes. “Nud-Nude photography? And you didn’t know?”

“Jaemin, keep it down.” Jeno whispered and cautiously peered around at the few people flooding into the small lecture hall. “I don’t want everyone in our club to misunderstand and think I’m some creep.”

His best friend straightened up in his seat and placed his hand on Jeno's slumped shoulder, “first of all, you’re a complete idiot for not researching. Secondly, it’s an art form. If you really got yourself a shady, rated R internship, I would’ve told you to drop it instantly.”

His spirits were slightly lifted, but he was still struggling with who he should ask to model for him. As much as he’s already seen of Jaemin, being his roommate, he honestly would rather leave the rest to imagination. Jeno wasn’t purposefully searching the room for a candidate, but he could not stop his eyes from drifting.

He spotted the most attractive side profile that sat two rows below him. He shook his head to make sure he was seeing her correctly. Peering around, he looked for another possible face to shoot. But oh god, how she caught his eye every time she even slightly moved.

You smiled happily with your friends by your side as your club’s executive board members introduced this year’s goals and events to attend. It had to be the smallest amount of alcohol still running in your system that caused you to giggle every time guys tried to turn around and hit on you.

“Why don’t you focus on our club members instead?” You smirked at the smug older boy, who had poorly attempted to grab your attention. “I think this information is important to you. These events could help you develop your social skills to be much better.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but your girl friends scoffed by your side.

He got up in disbelief and quickly walked out of the room. There was a brief pause at the sudden movement, but the announcement carried on per usual.

Jeno impatiently waited for the club meeting to finally be over, so he could talk to you. The longer it dragged, the more his confidence was subsiding. “I’m heading to study, wanna come with?” Jaemin poked at Jeno’s knee.

“Yeah, but you can go ahead first. I need to talk to someone.” His voice was shaky and his throat went so dry. Jeno’s shifty eyes scanned the room, hoping no one saw how nervous he was acting.

Jaemin’s eyebrows lifted suspiciously, “who? I didn’t even know you talked to anyone who came today. Donghyuck and Renjun aren’t here---”

“--her, Jaemin... her. I’m going to ask her to model for me.” Jeno motioned his head. His heart beating faster at seeing a small grin appear on your face from a comment someone made.

Jaemin hummed, “good luck with that, bud. I’ve got two shoulders for you to cry on after.” The extra hint of sarcasm only made Jeno sweat nervously. He was seriously doubting his decision, but it wouldn’t be a challenge if he didn’t do it. He knew he’d regret it more if he didn’t just ask you.

Once the meeting was dismissed, you wanted to get out of the room before the heavy rush into the hallways. Unfortunately, a few frat guys pulled you into their conversation and chatted up a storm. Your friends played into their foolery, but you stopped paying attention when they asked for your numbers.

There was a faint tap on your shoulder and you turned to see who the culprit was. You didn’t seem to know him, because you would’ve remembered such a demeanor. His eyes were glued to the floor behind you and his shaky hands ran through his brown locks. His shyness was quite endearing, yet alarming since you weren’t sure why exactly he had approached you.

“Yes?” You asked curiously.

The moment Jeno heard your delicate cadence, he melted like a popsicle left out in the sun. He peered up, but quickly reverted his eyes to the white tiles when he noticed how beautifully you stared at him.

He counted his breathing to calm his rapid heart beat. He cleared his throat to introduce himself, “I’m Jeno. I’m a third year Arts major, um-- I was just--- I know we don’t know each other. I wanted to ask, uh-” Jeno was horrified at how he stammered over his own words. His cheeks burned with a red glow, and if he couldn’t look you in the eye before, he definitely couldn’t now.

“Hey, see you later.” One of the bulky frat guys called and you waved back weakly.

A guy who had been chasing you endlessly scoffed at the pitiful sight and smirked at you, “see you at my house tonight? Been missing you in my bed lately.”

“Thought you would’ve guessed the reason why I stopped coming around.” Jeno heard the sting in your remarks and the disbelief in the male.

You honestly could have left, Jeno knew that. But you stayed and waited patiently for him to finish. Jeno could tell how strong you were just by your intimidating aura that practically suffocated him by standing in close proximity to you.

You sighed and reached to grab your jacket on the folded seat, “look, Jeno. It’s nice to meet you and all, but I gotta get going.”

Shockingly, the shy boy reached out to stop you by your fingertips. His touch lingered before he dropped your hand quickly. “I’m sorry. Are you free this Monday?”

“Uh, that depends. If you’re asking me on a date, then I’m busy.” Rolling your eyes, you weren’t sure why you still stayed to listen to what this random stranger had to say. If it were anyone else, you would’ve walked away the moment he asked if you were free. However, you acknowledged his timidness and the courage he must have mustered up to approach you.

Jeno shook his head violently, completely in shambles from that type of misunderstanding. “Not a date. I need someone to model for my portfolio photos that my internship assigned. It’s actually very important to me because it’s the first internship that responded back to me when I had applied to so many a whole month ago. Basically, I really need this and you because I think you’d be perfect to take pictures of. Oh-- wow! That sounded very bad --- uh --- what I meant is that your facial proportions are perfect and---”

“I’m free Monday.” You cut off his endless ramble and gestured toward his phone. He handed it to you without any hesitation and you typed in your number. “Text me the time, place and what I should wear.”

“Oh actually, it’s a nude photoshoot.” Your eyes doubled in size, completely offended by that statement.

Jeno felt the sudden shift in the air and brought his hands up to block himself, “to be more clear, it’s a contemporary fine art nude photography studio. The pictures are pieces of art and to be seen as that only. I have no intentions or ulterior motive to sleep with you, see you naked or sell, leak your nudes for the profit of your body. But, I understand if you no longer want to do it because it sounds super strange now that I am explaining it.”

Your shoulders relaxed and the fist that formed unraveled. You exhaled deeply, “I’ll do it. We can talk more about it on Monday and I get to leave on my own accord if I don’t feel comfortable. We work on my conditions.” Picking up Jeno’s chin, he was absolutely petrified at the forced eye contact and your incredible, powerful gaze. He was mesmerized by the fire in your eyes, and if he stared any longer, he could’ve lost himself in them.

“Of course.” With that, you dropped his face and left without another look back. Jeno looked down at his phone and the new contact name, (Y/N). It had slipped his mind to even ask what your name was and he slapped his face in utter stupidity. “Do better, Lee Jeno.” It was a remainder to himself to, hopefully, be better the next time you two speak.

Monday, 3:03 PM.

Jeno paced back and forth in the brightly, lit white room. He was trying to find any blinds or curtains to cover the tall windows of the high rise building. It should not be too much of a problem, the extra lighting was a positive. Jeno was only worried for your comfort of the openness.

There was a soft knock before Jeno practically tripped to open the door. His breath hitched at the sight of your bare face. This time, you were the vulnerable one. Jeno only saw purity, yet impressed at how your tired eyes still managed to bid him a soft smile. He admired your uneven complexion, and the sparse moles that dotted your skin.

“Okay, so you want to see me naked now or later?” Filled with jokes, your voice was light and airy this afternoon. There was a bit of a contrast from the first time you two met. Softer, enchanting, almost ghostly.

Everything in the room was white. The mattress on the floor had a white comforter and white sheets. The backdrop. The walls. The hardwood floor. The only color was the blue sky that the tall windows let in.

“Here’s a robe. You can change in the bathroom.” Jeno scratched the back of his neck and his eyes wandered everywhere, but your’s.

“Would you be okay with me just taking off my clothes in here?” You saw the light tint of pink cover his face, and spread to his ears. You examined more of the shy boy’s embarrassed face, finally getting a really good look at him. Jeno was very attractive, and you could only imagine how beautiful he must look if he fully faced you.

Jeno fiddled with his camera strap, “only if you are okay with that.” Clearing his throat, he stood next to the window to give you some privacy. “I’ll go over what I plan on doing. I’m going to take photos of your face details, parts of your body, full body, and portraits. You can lay down on the bed and I’ll direct you in poses. Have you modeled before?”

He was scanning the bustling city below his feet. Cars zoomed quickly and crowds of tiny people flooded the streets. He brought his camera up to his face, not being able to resist the urge to capture such a thrilling sight.

“If Instagram counts, then yeah. Professional model gig would be a no. Nude photography is a definite no, unless we are talking about being filmed during sex.” Jeno chuckled, while also holding the camera steady and stealing a few moments to keep for himself.

For a strange reason, being naked for a non-sensual reason felt even more vulnerable. Laying on the soft fabric, you felt oddly exposed and slightly more reserved. You’ve had countless strangers see you naked. Men were sexually desiring to see a sexy picture. You were always lusted after, but this feeling of nakedness was special.

“Are you ready?” Jeno gulped, finally setting the camera down.

You hummed cheerfully. Your heart was leaping out of your chest as the boy shifted slowly to face you. As he turned, you noticed he had his eyes sealed shut, which caused a small laugh to erupt. “Jeno, you have my permission to open your eyes and to look at me.”

Holy shit, he was trembling with an inexplicable fear. The camera was slipping from his sweaty hands. His mouth was as dry as the desert. Jeno’s pounding heart was loud in his ears.

Jeno has seen his past girlfriends laying naked in bed, but this situation was too different. When he saw you laying there in absolutely nothing, he was overwhelmed, yet astounded at how graceful you appeared.

There was no exchange of words and no exchange of eye contact. He towered over your lying figure and shakily brought the camera to his eyes. He selfishly wanted to capture your elegance. Through the lens, he saw all of you: the curve in your eyelid, your curled eyelashes, the small mole next to your soft lips, the sharp color of your eyes, the way your hair frames your face.

This was the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. You were comparable to the arts found in popular museums. Your body lines were enticing and an impressive shape. Your breasts pooled on your chest, the round nude nipple in the centers. Your details had to be sculpted by gods, who took their sweet time making you. You were a true masterpiece.

Confused, Jeno felt a huge mixture of emotions. Was he aroused? Was he infatuated? Did he just fall in love with a complete stranger? He recognized the same thrilled feelings he felt taking landscape photos. With each click, he grew more excited with how beautiful the photos were turning out.

“Sit up and rest your chin on your left hand. Lean your weight on your right leg.” Jeno’s direction was clear and firm. There was no evidence of a smaller tone he usually spoke in. Sitting up, you placed your elbow on your upper thigh to steady your chin. Jeno had already gotten down to floor level to you.

Without the camera that separated you two, it had to be the first time he faced you completely in such close proximity. There was so much to admire about Jeno. He remained concentrated on his craft, but it was actually very sexy to see his dedication. It was almost like he was a whole new person, like all the shyness drifted away.

Jeno couldn’t take his eyes off of you. It wasn’t simply your beauty that amazed him. Your confidence made everything easy. There was something about your blank stares, when he asked for an emotion, you portrayed it perfectly.

“Can we talk while you shoot?” Your sudden voice startled the photographer. He lowered his camera and his gaze automatically wandered off behind you, which didn’t go unnoticed. He nodded after a short pause and the shutter noises continued.

“Why did you choose me as your model?”

Jeno peeled away from the device, “because you’re you.” He didn’t even know what that statement meant. It wasn’t like he knew you before the first time he asked you to model for him.

The corners of your lips dipped down, drawing an evident frown. Click. Jeno loved that image especially. It was a simple way to get real, authentic facial expressions. He marveled at the photo, but registered the reason behind it. “I wanted to ask you the second I saw you. I just knew that I wanted you.”

“But you don’t know me.”

Jeno looked through the lens once again, welcoming a full view of your stunning attributes. He spoke in a low voice, “then, let me know you.” Click.

It would be the biggest lie to say that you weren’t aroused by Jeno at the moment. He was cool, without trying to be. He really did shine when he had a camera to work with, like a star to a dark night. While he had a distinct demeanor off the bat, you enjoyed unraveling the rest of him. He was, also, the first man you met that didn’t seem sexually driven by a naked woman in his presence.

You had to resist every urge to push the camera away and share the few seconds of his entire gaze before it wandered away. You wanted to rock his world, he was so innocent and beautiful. You wished to wreak havoc on him, have him show you how much he wanted you.

You anticipated an awkward photoshoot, but Jeno made you feel safe and comfortable. He made sure to adjust the temperature when goosebumps rose on your arms and when your nipples became painfully hard. He never touched you or came too much into your personal space. He always asked for your permission.

Nude modeling was a new experience for you, but you were surprised at how much you liked it. or how much you liked Jeno taking your photos. He sat next to you on the bed when you put on your articles of clothing and panned through several shots to satisfy your curiosity.

Leaning close, your head ducked to see the photos. A gasp escaped your lips when you saw just the first few. “Is that really me?” The pictures made you feel an abundance of emotions, you felt what they reflected. Sadness, melancholy, happiness, confidence. You didn’t know images had that much power to make you feel that, especially photos of you.

Jeno nodded, smiling so wide that his eyes turned to moon crescents. He was so in love with the results. He found respect for Taemin’s craft and he was right, he might’ve found a new forte to experiment with. “I can send you the photos digitally too, if you want them.”

“Maybe I’ll print them out, frame them, and gift it to every horrid man who has tried to flirt their way to my body since they want to see it so fucking bad.”

Jeno peered over and saw the tiny glimpse of pain in your orbs, “why would you give horrible people what they want?”

“So they can finally shut up and leave me alone. Plus, this is art and if I tell them it’s actually me, maybe it’ll change their minds to start treating me like it.”

He held his palm up and almost immediately, your fingers filled the spaces between his. “I’m going to need you to start treating yourself as fine art.”

“Keep taking more photos of me and I just might start thinking I’m Mona Lisa.” Your laughters blended nicely into each other. There was mutual mental acknowledgement of the happiness you were both feeling.

Jeno never let go of your hand, and there was a short moment of comforting silence where you two sat in each other’s existence. You were the one to break it, “are you doing anything after this?”

He shook his head. “Well then, you’re mine for the rest of the night. We’re going to pretend we’ve been close friends since first year and eat take-out on my bed because that’s what I need at the moment.”

“I know you respect my body and see this as an art form, but I’m genuinely surprised that you didn’t feel aroused at the slightest.”

Jeno didn’t even realize how much time had already passed being you. You two ate and chatted as if you’ve known each other forever, as if the friendship wasn’t established several hours ago. It felt safe and right, like you two belonged in each other’s existence and nowhere else mattered.

He felt warm inside from your hearty laughter and courage, like he was watching a painting come to life or a photo in movement. You were smitten over how endearing and complex he was. He was more than what meets the eye and that alone drew you towards him.

“Okay, I’ll admit,” Jeno paused to watch your reaction, “in the most respectable way, I was somewhat turned on. But! Before you trail blaze me for being just like every disgusting male in your life, I genuinely didn’t have any sexual thoughts during the photoshoot. That was all professional and it will continue to be like that.”

Getting up from your bed, your mind was working at lightspeed to process his confession. Jeno was fast to pick up someone’s personality, what stood out and what was kept hidden. He knew quicker than anyone else that you were not someone to offend because you were a strong, straight forward woman.

His personality breakdown went like this: you knew what you like, you knew you were going to get what you want, you enjoyed flirty banter (with people of your choice), you weren’t afraid to be blunt, or kick someone’s ass. You carried yourself with confidence that graced your every step, which makes anyone attracted to you instantly. Bold, confident, sexy had to be what came to mind whenever he thought about you.

Nonetheless, he really liked you as a person. He could pat himself on the back all day long for just approaching you, but he knew the real reason as to how this all happened. It was you saying yes to a stranger’s odd photoshoot. You made him the luckiest man in the world.

“Continue? Are you looking for excuses to keep seeing me?” You smirked and Jeno’s voice grew small.

“I--- uh, well,” there goes the nervous stammering, “I know the conditions were a one time thing, so I understand if you don’t want to do it again.” As the night had progressed, Jeno gradually began to hold eye contact and actually looked at you directly without the help of seeing you through a lens. This was the first time he broke it.

“Hey now, I’m messing with you, Jeno.” He had been sitting on your floor, at the end of your bed. You crawled on your elbows to reach him, and to hold his chin to face you again. Deja vu. “I’d love to get naked for you again, and again, and.. as many times as you want me to.”

He stared at you with his mouth hung open in disbelief. His eyes scanned your beautiful face to see your lips pull back into a mischievous smile. Gulping, he swallowed every ounce of courage he had left. “You don’t have to say it like that.” He tried to remove your grip, but it latched onto his hand.

“You’re finally looking me in the eye, sweet thing. I don’t think you realize how much I had been wanting that from you.” You caressed his cheek, rubbing small circles on his texture.

“What else do you want from me?” His implication sounded suggestive, even if his curiosity was innocent.

Your hot breath brushed against Jeno’s lips. “I can show you.”

Jeno, the one and only college guy who has seen your naked body in a non-sexual context. Jeno, the shy, sweet boy who appreciated and recognized you as a form of art. Jeno, the talented and skillful photographer, who consistently made sure you felt comfortable. Jeno, the only person in the world who you’d model nude for. Jeno, the dazzling character behind the camera who you wanted more than anyone else you’ve ever met. Lee Jeno.

He seemed like he was inching closer, already tilting his head to fit your’s. You smiled to yourself, seeing that your words were received well. Diving in, your lips swam together fervently.

The poor boy found himself lost in your enchanting, alluring gaze. He let the trance consume him, selfishly kissing the art he admired so dearly. A small part of him felt the guilt and confusion that began to rise. He wasn’t sure why he suddenly wished to feel your lips on his neck, or run his hands across your hot skin. He swore these thoughts were not present earlier.

A small pop! and Jeno held your shoulder to pull away. “I’m sorry, did I do something?” You asked, honestly concerned that you were taking more than you deserved. The least you desired was to hurt Jeno, who had been nothing but nice and sweet.

“(Y/N),” you could listen to your name roll off his tongue all day, “I feel somewhat guilty. I don’t want things to be misunderstood.”

“Which would be?”

“I don’t want you to think I coerced you into being my model just because I had intentions to sleep with you.” Jeno was already gathering his things, but you hopped off your bed and placed a hand on his chest. “Because that’s what it’s starting to look like at the moment.”

“Was that something you did though? Did you have those intentions?” Your stare bore right through him. The warmth of your hand relaxed his racing heart.

“Never, (Y/N), I would never do that to someone.” Your hand traveled down to grab his belongings and tossed it back onto the ground.

He silently watched as you took off your pants, and stood in front of him in your underwear. “Then, we’re fine. I know your intentions have always been pure. But truthfully, Jeno, seeing you focused while you worked sparked something in me. You don’t understand how aroused I got and how badly I wanted you to fuck me on that bed.” His hand trailed up your exposed thighs, finally touching your softness. “You’re the one guy I wanted first, and it’s been a long time since I’ve felt that.”

“I-- I don’t know what to say.” His cheeks revealed how embarrassed he was, but his dark, lustful eyes were telling a different story.

A smirk fell upon your face, “then don’t say anything.”

Jeno devoured you, inhaling the light hint of vanilla that still lingered. He hoisted you onto your mattress and kissed you like his life depended on it. His antsy hands roamed your free range, exploring, holding, gripping the parts he marveled over. Small moans from the back of your throat encouraged him to continue.

No one has ever kissed you with the amount of passion Jeno did. It was gentle, with enough vigor to cause your panties to dampen. It wasn’t sloppy, where previous guys had a problem of missing your mouth entirely and slobbered your chin.

His lips worshiped you, highlighting your good sides. Flashes of the photoshoot popped into Jeno’s head as he left purple marks on the places he loved capturing the most. He pushed up your shirt, exposing your chest to him again. His tongue circled around your hard nipple as he made sure to give the same amount of attention to each one.

Jeno knew he was too shy to hold your intense stare, but getting to know you during and after the photoshoot, he could see the softness in your gaze. He was, now, able to see all of you. The sight of you through the camera was addicting enough, so finally taking you all in was more than satisfying.

Your hands ran through his hair as he kissed down your torso. His thumbs hooked the waistband of your underwear, and peeled it off your body. You gasped as the cold air from your apartment grazed against your exposed figure.

Jeno paused to admire your glistening pussy, “would it be okay if you let me make love to you?”

Your heart burned, not out of embarrassment, but at how he still managed to ask you for your permission in the sweetest way. You rested your weight on your elbows, “no one has done that before, would it actually make me want to fall in love with you?”

“It wouldn’t be too bad. I have a lot of love to give and you look like a person who deserves all of it anyways.” Jeno’s finger ran over your wet slit and rubbed your clit slowly.

Your moans filled the room as the electric jolted throughout your veins. The wetness grew, seeping out of you like a waterfall. Jeno dropped down to his knees, and lifted your legs on his broad shoulders.

“Are you usually this wet, baby?”

Chuckling, you smiled at his bold choice in using pet names, “Just for you.”

He hummed, chiming at how he liked your answer. Spreading you open, his tongue met with your swollen bud that begged for his licks.

His tongue darted side to side, up and down and in result, your back arched in pleasure and a darkness clouded your mind. His name and mindless profanities streamlined their way out of you as Jeno ate you out in such a precisely delicious way.

Grabbing a fist full of hair, you pulled him closer, even if there was no more space to fill. Looking down, you two exchanged glances before he thrusted a finger into you. Your hips bucked harder as he eased in another one.

Jeno curled his fingers in search of your sweet spot and found it when a deep moan escaped your throat. His fingertips rubbed and pressed into your plush flesh, causing you to practically scream and squirm in his mouth.

He suckled your clit and fingered you simultaneously and quickly. The pleasure was overflowing and you released his hair to grip your sheets below you. Your legs shook and trembled as he had no caution to stop.

“Please, I’m going to--” you could barely talk due to your face contouring to the splurge of pleasure every single time Jeno rubbed your spot. “--to explode.”

He had to take back what he thought earlier in the day. This was the most beautiful sight he’s ever laid eyes on. The whole scene played like from one of his favorite films. It felt like he was giving his photos life. Your body twisted and turned, accentuating the curves of your lines.

Jeno had become painfully hard against the fabric of his jeans, but seeing you fall apart because of his minimal movements exhilarated him. “P-Please, don’t stop.” A breathy moan followed suit and your thighs tried to press themselves together. Jeno didn’t allow it, his free hand hooked underneath your left thigh to pull one side away from his cheeks.

Your high gradually grew so tall that it all eventually came cascading down. Your legs shook violently and sat up from the euphoria that took over you. Jeno prolonged your buzz and you screamed loudly, having to bite down on your fingers to stop yourself from angering your neighbors.

Jeno drank you up, letting your wetness cover his chin and drip down his knuckles. He pulled away, at last, and you took deep breaths to control your heavy breathing. It was like Jeno knocked the wind completely out of you.

He stood up and you saw the outline of his hard bulge straining itself through his jeans. The next scene was quite animalistic. You, still embodying your high, sat on your knees and unzipped his pants with your needy hands.

“Now, it’s your turn to get nude for me.” You whispered, tauntingly. Jeno groaned when you reached down and gently pulled him out. He stepped out of his clothing, all of it. His shirt was lost in the corner and his bottoms were scattered over your floor. Mirroring his actions, you took off your last piece of cloth.

Jeno was built. Though his biceps did not go unnoticed during the photoshoot, you were surprised at the lines of muscle that sketched his body. It made your mouth water, seeing his extremely hard dick stand against his toned abs. His red tip fell just below his navel. Jeno only kept getting better as the night continued on.

Pulling him closer, his hand found their way to the back of your head as you aligned your mouth to the wetness that spilled from his tip. “I want to make you feel good.” Jeno’s hoarse voice made your knees weak.

Peering up, you batted your eyelashes at him fondly. “Just a little taste?” You begged, having to hold his shaft with both of your hands because of his thickness. Your tongue was already stuck out, your hot breath causing the tiniest bit of sensation for him.

He nodded and his eyes were trained on you. He didn’t want to miss any second of your kitty licks. You flattened your tongue against his warmth, dragging it up to the top. The saltiness hit your palette as you swirled around his redness. “Oh--” Jeno threw his head back and bit his lip, “--lay on the bed now.”

You smiled sweetly and gave his member a quick kiss before reaching for a condom in your drawer. Jeno climbed onto your bed and situated the rubber comfortably. You laid on your back and he was fast to pull your legs around his waist.

He lined himself at your entrance and eased his tip in slowly. Squirming, you craved him to fill you up to the brim. He leaned down to kiss you, letting your tongue lap with his. It’s your hands with the mind of their own when they flew automatically to hold his face whenever you wanted to deepen the kiss. Then, Jeno stretched himself all the way in and he caught your gasp with his lips. He groaned, feeling the mess he created merely minutes ago.

His hips moved so easily with your wetness, but he went slow. Dragging out each pull and then, pushing himself back in roughly. “Jeno!” Your body jolted up the bed each time. His body fell over yours to hold you intimately, letting you bury your face into his neck. Your lips latched themselves onto his sensitive skin, painting a purple sunset.

Jeno’s arms snaked underneath your thighs as he pressed them to your chest, folding you almost into a ball. Your mouth hung open as he fucked you harder, rougher, deeper yet keeping the tempo rhythmically slow. At this point, you could feel his hits in your gut. Your weak hands gripped loosely around his strong wrists that held your legs down. “You’re pussy is so tight and holy shit---, you keep getting more beautiful.”

A familiar burning sensation set in your chest as you saw how concentrated his face had become. You were so fucked out that you could barely speak, “you—” his hips mercilessly slammed into you powerfully, enacting a low moan every time he reached your sweet spot. “—keep surprising me.” His actions came to a halt and he stared deeply into your soul.

You whined, wiggling your hips for any friction. He held them down into the mattress, knowing his grip was strong enough to leave a mark. “I told you, I was going to make love to you tonight.”

“I’ve already fallen for you.” You said breathlessly, tracing the side of his face and pecking his lips softly.

“You don’t understand what you’re doing to me by saying those things.” He whispered and pushed his entire shaft to fill you to your brim.

You yelped his name and gripped his shoulders, but he wasn’t done yet. “Show me how badly you wanted me the first time you saw me.” Jeno blinked at you in slight shock.

As he continued to hold the deep gaze, he kept pushing his dick further and further into you. He was balls deep, almost impossible to keep going. He fucked you without the need to pull out, just burying his cock deeper into your wet pussy. You exclaimed, moaned, cussed at every push. Holding the stare was more than enough to lose yourself all over him again.

Jeno was drunk with the image of your fucked out expression and every time the mixture of pleasure and pressure caused your eyebrows to crease and mouth to open release sensual sound. He had been trying his best not to come undone, to fixate another climax for you.

The feeling of you wrapping tighter and tighter around him drove him insane. “Give it to me, please.” Your muffled plead called for his release, but he could feel that you were close to your second.

Jeno sat up on his knees and pulled you into his arms where your thighs fell over his. You groaned at the empty feeling, though it was quickly replaced with a gratifying moan when he inserted himself again. Your arms dangled around his neck, foreheads touching intimately.

The fucking eye contact again, how could you get enough of it? You giggled, amused at how different Jeno was when he eventually opened up. He wrapped his strong arms around your back and thrusted his hips up into you. The way this man made you squirm, scream, and shake were nothing you’ve experienced before.

He smirked, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek when he went rampage on your pussy. “Not laughing now, are you?”

You whined in pleasure, brushing your fallen strands of hair out of his face. “Shut up before I make you.”

“Then I’d rather keep going.” Kissing up his jawline, you lead your way to his pout. His kisses intoxicated you with his passion and madness, like the most intense part of a symphony, or when the bass drops after a long build up in a song.

Jeno sped up, ramming up into your slick pussy over and over again. He even brought your hips down to match him, guiding you down as he went up. The headboard was knocked against the wall, your windows steamed up, cries of pleasure from the both of you created the ambiance, the smell of sex filled your lungs. Jeno reached between your bodies to furiously rub your clit to where it felt almost raw. It all sent you into the clouds, the familiar queasiness settled in your lower half.

Your eyes rolled back and your back arched, having to pull away from the desirous kiss with Jeno. “I’m cumming!” You announced before the tension unraveled, causing you to see absolute white. The second wave was much more uncontrollable, Jeno felt you squeezing radically around his dick as he tried to fuck you faster to prolong the feeling.

Your legs shook around his and your upper body went limp with pleasure. You reached the peak of the mountain and it came crumbling down underneath your toes. It was catastrophically enthralling, to the point where you physically felt something leave your body.

“Oh shit..” Jeno stopped his motions at the sight of you squirting over his lap. He pampered your torso with fluttering kisses, hoping to calm your spastic body. “...baby, are you okay?” He asked with a bit of concern of how lack of life you seemed.

This man just gave you the best climax in your whole life and he asked if you were okay? Regaining your senses, you sighed a small yes to reassure him that he didn’t actually murder you. Hopping off, you pulled the condom that restricted him.

He hissed when you cupped his balls in your palm. “Cum, my sweet thing.” You purred and Jeno’s hand pumped his member aggressively. You leaned in to help, sucking the tip and flicking your tongue over his slit.

His other hand gripped your neck, causing you to drip on your sheets. Jeno was panting and with every tug, it became louder. He seemed so desperate to release that it made you smile to be the reason behind it. “Can you lay down,” A grunt followed his question, “please.” He huffed.

“Because you asked nicely.” Smirking, your back hit the sheets and you opened your legs to give Jeno a view. He situated himself above your stomach, as he fucked his tight grip.

“I’m cumming---” He couldn’t look any more amazing. With a final moan, the white streaks streamed out in short sequences. It landed across your abdomen, over your nipple, and pooled around your belly button.

Bringing himself back to reality, Jeno stepped back to marvel you, his masterpiece. The white streaks coated your purple skin and your chest rose fast to catch your reality. Gazing upon your naked body, he was utterly infatuated with all of you. He was so in love with the sight of you that not a single photo could capture the beauty that you were.

Jeno pondered the thought of how merely a day changed a small part of him. You were life changing, addicting, an incomparable character that he felt like he’s known forever, and now, couldn’t live without. It was the taste of your juices on his lips, your sweet melodic music that was your voice, your daring smile that enticed him to never peel away from you. It was simply you.

He leaned down to rub his knuckles against your cheek, planting a lovingly peck on your forehead. “I’ll go start the water for you.”

Jeno anticipated the reaction of his mentor. He found himself at the same scene he was when he was first given the task. Taemin sat across from him, hunched forward to analyze his new set of photos on his laptop. Raw, unedited photos of you, your body, your details.

The hum of the air conditioning droned on, driving him mad. Jeno needed one reaction, but Taemin had been silent and expressionless for the past ten minutes. Whenever he did move, it was to click through to the next picture.

Suddenly, he shut it closed and stood right up. Jeno, panicked, did the same. Taemin stuck his hand out and Jeno hesitantly grabbed it, incredibly unsettled and unable to read the older man.

Taemin received it firmly, giving Jeno a good handshake. “Welcome abroad, Lee Jeno. I expect even more great things from you.”

Jeno registered his delightful mood switch and he was fast to follow up, “my photos, --- you --- like them?”

Taemin nodded generously, patting Jeno on his shoulder. Taemin reached up to tap his own eyelids. “What you can see, is very special, kid. You’re an artist and I’m here to recognize that for you. It seems to me, you can do more than take pictures of sidewalks.”

Jeno smiled happily, his eyes disappearing from joy. He couldn’t wait to tell you about it.

The rest of the week, leading up to Jeno’s appointment, had felt nothing short of blissful moments together. You and Jeno spent almost every waking minute together without the cost of your friends’ time. He walked you to your classes, some even being across the campus from his own. You accompanied him for meals, even sitting in his lectures to just be with him.

There were no words that established what you two had become to each other. Jeno wasn’t looking for that anyways, in fact, he somewhat liked the ambiguity. If only he could tell you how making love to you made him begin to actually fall for you.

You were never one to hold a serious relationship, but you found a small want for that festering in Jeno. It was hard to admit to yourself, but Jeno saw you for all that you were. He truly saw you, whether it had been through a lens or through his own eyes. He captured your rawness and you were able to find vulnerability around him.

He ran to you, where you sat in the lobby waiting for him to finish his meeting. Peering up from your phone, you noticed the beaming smile on the boy’s face. You couldn’t hold back your own grin, seeing him apparent with so much joy. “I’m guessing good things?”

“I got it, (Y/N)!” He jumped into your arms and you laughed at the sudden affection. “He loved my photos.”

“I didn’t doubt it for one second. You’re an artist, Jeno. You create masterpieces that make even someone like me, feel like art.”

Jeno hugged you closer to his chest, giving you a tiny squeeze. Pulling away to face you, his eyes examined your outstanding grace. You knew what he was already going to say, but simply wanted to hear him say it. “That’s because you are art.”

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todoscript · 4 years

Text

Work of Art

pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader genre: smut. word count: 3.6k+ warnings: 18+. shibari. bondage. submissive bakugou. dominant reader. begging. praising. bakugou being a little bit of a brat?

anonymous requested: okay but what abt.. submissive bakugo👉👈 him being all bratty and shuts up when you deny him—

author’s note: ohhh boyyyy... submissive bakugou really got me writing more than 3k’s worth of filth haha, but i hope you enjoy! shoutout to my gals, rosie ( @shoutogepi ) & val ( @shoutodoki ) for indulging with me during our talks about sub bnha boys

“Hmm, I don’t see why you’re so against this,” your voice sounds out, and Bakugou immediately perceives the saccharine dripping upon every word, a lilt of a smile dancing on your colored lips, painted in a vivid rosy red pigment that only enhances your seduction. Despite how sweet you sound, he knows that underneath that layer of sugar lies a venom waiting to intoxicate him—ensnare his reasoning and leave him utterly vulnerable to your mischief. As in this moment, you embody every characteristic akin to a vixen, enveloped in the lacy fabric of your black lingerie.

Bakugou sits before you bound to a chair with an intricate network of cordage twined across his naked skin. The patterns and shapes knotted together contrast stunningly against his expanse of hard muscle—reminiscent of paint on canvas. And you tonight are the artist.

“You look so pretty, like a beautiful piece of art…” you say languidly. Each syllable uttered is drawn out in alluring breaths that somehow makes him feel hazy. He grits his teeth at how much that extra flair in your voice affects him, eyebrows narrowing tightly as he fidgets in his seat. His arms and wrists ache from just a simple wriggle, your meticulous work granting him no chance to get free.

“Ah-ah, you’re not gonna get out of this one,” you tease. Right as he opens his mouth for a snappy retort, the words are swooped from under him when your hands begin to trace his naked skin—starting from his thigh, up to his abs, and then landing to his chest, where you make a point to taunt him by dancing your fingertips there before bending down to meet his eyes. Your ruby red lips curve impishly at what you reduced him to. “You can try as much as you like, but I’ve tied the ropes this way so you can’t get free~ Don’t want you to spoil the fun after all,” you sing. Fully aware of your boyfriend’s strength built upon many years of arduous hero training alongside that powerful quirk of his, you made sure Pro Hero Ground Zero would not turn the tables on you in his haste for pleasure tonight.

Thus, his usual brash exterior dwindles in the face of your ministrations when you play with the rope a bit more. When he notices your eyes descend to his angry red cock that stands firm amid the knotwork surrounding it, his impatience builds. Bakugou wets his lips, finally ushering some words out from his dry throat.

“Fuck… Stop stalling already…” he tells you, voice borderline on a plea, but his remaining pride pushes the inflection back in hopes it resembles even a lick of his regular gruff tone. Your hums in reply don’t entail much, other than the fact you’re still prolonging his needs.

“Stalling? Who said I was stalling?” You feign ignorance before deciding to take a seat on him, straddling his thighs. “I just want to admire my work of art a bit more… I did a pretty good job—” your hand suddenly comes to his cock, fingers coaxing its hardness that makes his breath hitch, “don’t you think?”

For once, Bakugou’s scrounging for words at the sudden contact. He’s not used to being so speechless when it comes to passion in the bedroom with you. If anything—moaning and yelling aside—he regards himself the more vocal one between the two of you, his dirty talk and crude language a routine he always enacted to get you hot, bothered, and oh so ready for him. However, the shibari ropes braided across his body press a button that spurs him to be so… submissive.

God, him and “submissive” do not belong in the same sentence.

He thinks this, and yet the aesthetic arrangement on his skin emphasizes his sensuality and vulnerability, and it somehow makes arousal wholly envelop his cock.

“Well?” You bring him back to the situation at hand by thumbing over the slit of his length, slick with his pre-cum. The touch causes a groan to slip past his lips. “I asked you a question, Katsuki.” You stroke his length up and down for every word, stopping right at the end and leaving his cock weeping for more of your touch, strained by the rope.

“Ah, f-fuck—” He internally curses himself for the stutter. Glancing at you, he heeds the smirk that still hangs proudly on your red lips.

Boy, does he itch to wipe it off your face with bruising kisses and have wanton moans singing from them when he pounds you into the bed. To his dismay, however, that itch remains unreachable thanks to your painstakingly elaborate composition. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, this shibari shit you performed on him was executed with great attention to detail for him to be left so aroused and unable to break free in this damn chair. But would he ever say this to you out loud? Hell no. So he settles for defiance instead.

Bakugou looks you straight in the eye with a smug expression plastered on his face. “Hah, is this supposed to impress me? Seems like a bunch of amateur work to me, babe,” he scoffs boldly, earning a raised brow from you at his attitude despite the position he’s in. Perhaps he needs a reminder that no matter how much he squirms, he isn’t getting a sliver of authority tonight.

“Is that so?” You jab, finger looping around the cordage tied across his collarbones to pull him forward in his chair. His face is so close to yours; he can feel your breath on his lips and smell the enticing fragrance of your perfume. It’s an off-beat mix of rose and jasmine that gets his blood pumping from just a whiff. “I don’t think you truly understand the position you’re in right now, Suki,” you muse sensually, lips tugging back into a smirk that has him second-guessing his actions, “I just need to remind you then.”

At that, your hand immediately falls to his cock, stout and weepy with pre-cum, capturing Bakugou’s attention. He groans wantonly while you stroke it. Dropping to your knees, you watch as your ministrations evoke bliss into his cock from below. You can tell without even glancing at him that he’s biting his tongue to suppress his obscene noises. However, the increasing volume in his voice betrays him.

“Agh, fucking goddd—” he drawls beneath his breath when you decide to pick up the pace with your hand, applying the right amount of pressure that had his walls slowly cracking in front of you. The strain on his body from the ropes heightens his lust. Bakugou tugs on the restraints in the fit of pleasure building inside him.

“Hm well look at that. You were so bold before, but now look at you—” Your other hand goes to fondle his balls, the extra sensation making him buck in his seat, “a hard, aching mess at my touch, isn’t that right?”

“Ugh, if you—fuck—think I’m going to give in— Haaahhh...” His words are a jumbled mess. Bakugou leans against his seat, tossing his head back while involuntarily rocking his hips into your hand.

“What was that? Couldn’t hear you over your moaning and groaning,” you mock, watching his brows knit together at the lust consuming his being. His panting comes out ragged while he gasps for air, thighs flexing at the fire coursing through his body that teeters on a tightrope. However, before he can reach his high, the sensations are ripped away when you quickly remove your digits from him, recognizing his imminent release.

Bakugou shoots his eyes open. A sharp shift in his seat has the chair’s legs scraping against the floor. “What the hell?!” he growls, practically snarling the words out. There’s a wave of anger heard in his tone that you don’t take a liking to. You wag your finger.

“That’s no way to talk, Katsuki.”

“I don’t give a fuck! I was so damn close to cumming! Why the hell did you stop?!” Bakugou yells vehemently with a pierce in his red eyes. You run your hands on his thighs as you lean up to return the look.

“Y’know if you’re going to act like this—act like a brat—I might as well just leave you here and not let you cum at all tonight, hm?” you threaten, and the notion brings his temper to an immediate silence. The idea of you keeping him bound to this chair while his cock cries for release is enough to diminish his poise. He sinks in his seat submissively when you inch closer, eyeing the bright red of your painted lips that curls salaciously with each word you utter to him.

“But if you behave, sit here obediently, and continue looking all pretty for me, I might let you cum. How’s that sound?” you offer.

He bites his lip. It’s like he’s making a deal with a succubus right now, that damn voice of yours coaxing him.

“F-Fine…” he manages to answer. You smile at his compliance before placing a kiss on his cheek. You’re granted a glimpse of the faint, red imprint left on his skin thanks to your lipstick when you detach from him. Almost as if you’ve marked him as yours.

“Good boy.” The praise sends a shiver down his spine as you whisper it into his ear. He watches you descend onto your knees again, gazing at his cock like you’re about to pounce. And god, does he wish you would just do it already, but instead, you choose to prolong him some more and glance at him.

“Now… what do you want me to do to you?”

Really? Did you have to ask this? Bakugou furrows his brows at how you play cloy. “Argh, you already know—”

“I want to hear it from you though,” you interject, leaning forward and running a finger along a prominent vein on the side. His pretty cock twitches at your touch. “Use your words and tell me all the things you want me to do to you, ’Suki.”

Before he can bite his tongue, his mind is already one step ahead of him, blurting out his thoughts shamelessly. “God, I want to be in your mouth. I want you to suck my dick and let me cum in your throat. And then I want you to get up here, ride me to oblivion, and let me paint your pussy so fucking white. Please please please—” He adds in his pleas for good measure, the desire to climax overpowering his pride in the heat of the moment that feeds your ego.

The word “please” has never sounded so dulcet coming out of that usually vulgar mouth of his. Who knew Bakugou Katsuki was capable of begging so well? It’d be an absolute shame not to reward him for his good behavior.

You lick your lips. “There, that wasn’t too hard, was it?” Then you begin acting on his wishes, your tongue making contact with his hard cock, gradually running up the side until you reach the head. Swirling against the tip causes a growl to bellow from his throat, jerking forward when you wrap your lips around the entire head. He watches with lidded eyes as your lipstick begins smearing across his dick, sucking him in like that.

His moans sound frenzied the more his cock inches into your warm cavern. The sounds encourage you to eagerly bob your head up and down his length with your spit collecting in the back of your throat. You adore the way his cock feels in your mouth, so heavy and thick, and especially love the fact that your controlled pace has your man reeling with pleasure, finally letting his unabashed whimpers out. You savor every little sound like it’s your favorite song on repeat, which it might as well be from how slick gathers at your cunt listening to them.

“Shit! Baby, please don’t fucking stop!” he begs, head tossed behind him as you moan your response into his dick, picking up speed. Your hand pumps his shaft a few more times until you bring it down to your panties to move the material aside and rub your clit. The contact sends a tingle through your body that urges you to bottom his cock into your mouth. Feeling your wetness enveloping his cock gratifies every nerve in his body until it ultimately leaves him undone.

”Agh! Sh-Shit—!” he curses, his climax peaking as his white cum spurts inside your throat. You make sure to swallow every last drop, tasting his delicious cream on your tongue as you detach from him with a lewd pop.

Bakugou is still catching his breath by the time you happily wipe your mouth of your excess spit and any lingering drops of his delectable seed, his chest heaving in and out with the red rope flexing at his every movement. A haze clouds his vision from the intensity of his orgasm, but he’s at least able to see you standing before him—lipstick now messy but that mischief in your eyes persisting.

“Sukiiii~ You’re absolutely gorgeous like this—tied up, sweaty, and gasping for air just because of me,” you praise.

“B-Baby…” Bakugou’s tone somehow rings higher than usual. Your eyebrows perk up, the wetness at your core saturating through your panties hearing the shameless little whine.

“Kiss me… please…”

Well, since you asked so nicely…

You straddle his thighs and bring your lips to his own, letting him taste the bittersweetness of his cum from your tongues fervently melding against each other. Soon the makeout session comes to a halt with a quick peck on his lips. He peers into your glimmering expression with an insatiable need, struggling in his bonds as his cock hardens once more at your proximity—skin so warm against him. But your lingerie still obscures him from your real treasures. He wants to rip it off you already.

“Can I get out this damn thing yet?” he asks, quiet yet impatient. You shake your head.

“’Fraid not, Katsuki, I still need to ‘ride you to oblivion,’ remember?” you quote him.

Crap. He does. And surprisingly, there are no objections when you remind him. His silence amid your established authority doesn’t go unnoticed by you as you grin devilishly at how pliant he’s become throughout the night.

As if you’ve read his mind, your hand finds the clasp fastened on your back. “Since you’ve been such a good boy for me—” a simple flick of your wrist undoes the grip holding your bra together, “I’ll reward you for the rest of the night.” On cue, the skimpy garment glides down your shoulders.

Tossing the bra into the void of the bedroom, you can’t help the giggle that bubbles from your lips at Bakugou’s widened eyes aimed at your tits bared before him. He absentmindedly shifts in a vain attempt to lift his hands and grab your mounds, forgetting the rope bound on his arms behind his back prevents him from touching your soft, naked skin.

“Aw, you want to touch my tits?” you chide. Bakugou grunts in response, and you’re amused by the way he turns his head bashfully as if you miss the subtle blush dusting his cheeks. Such a cute little act.

Cupping your hand under his jaw brings his attention back to you. You nudge him so he faces you again, not allowing his eyes to gander anywhere else but on your own.

“I’ll let you do a little bit more than touch…” Your thumb lightly brushes his lower lip, pulling it down ever so slightly, and he realizes what you want him to do.

And boy, is he eager to abide by your desires.

Opening his mouth, he doesn’t hesitate to latch onto your right nipple immediately, tongue poking out around the bud. You hum in content at how passionately he licks and sucks, petting the back of his head and brushing your fingers through his soft blonde hair to encourage him along.

“Ooooh… That’s it Suki… You’re doing so well, sucking on my nipple like that,” you moan as Bakugou moves over to your left breast, giving its twin the same amount of attention. He groans between licks, flattening his tongue and drawing out the sound erotically against your skin. It spurs you to grind your clothed pussy on his erection, earning you his hisses between tugging your nub into his mouth.

In the meantime, your other hand, not caressing his locks, stumbles upon your wetness seeping past your intimates, practically soaking through onto his dick. A few strokes of your fingertips beneath your panties gathers your gossamer-like slick that interlaces your digits together in a web. You tear Bakugou off your bud to hover your glossy fingers in front of him. Right away, he begins diligently licking away at the slippery sheen, moans lewdly vibrating deep in his throat with each swipe of his tongue.

“How do I taste?”

“So fucking good. Shit, I want more,” he says. You grin, flattered by his enthusiasm to devour more of your essence. However, you’d have to put that on hold for another time.

“Hm, not tonight, I’m afraid. I need you inside me right this second.” Your words have pure anticipation sparking through his body. He stares attentively as you lift yourself over the head of his cock, aligning his length into your soaked hole, panties pushed to the side.

“Arghhh…” Bakugou hisses between gritted teeth when the first inch enters, fists clenched around nothing at how tightly you’re squeezing him. Your whimpers accompany him as you adjust to his well-endowed size, a pleasant burn seizing you. Heat sprouts in your abdomen the more you descend on Bakugou’s firm, aching cock, eventually bottoming out with a long sigh.

“Fucking hell, you’re so damn fucking tight—”

If your mouth feels good, then your pussy is practically heaven, inducing him in hot, tight bliss when you start bouncing up and down.

“Ah, Suki, your cock is so big… so hard…Mmph, I love how it fills me up!” you sing, arms wound around his neck, tits pressing against his chest. Having to sit back with nothing to leverage him amid your silky walls pressing around his cock, bursts of mini-explosions crackle in his palms. A musky scent of burnt caramel suddenly invades your senses, making your cunt clench tighter. Bakugou curses at how you hug his length.

“Fuck! Baby, I want you to ride my cock faster! Make me cum so damn hard that I feel it for weeks!”

Even when taking on a submissive role, Bakugou’s dirty talk never ceases to rile you up. You nod in reply, thighs flexed while your tempo on his cock increases to the point where it ensnares both of you in the throes of pleasure. Unable to do much except allow you to work yourself on and off him, he settles for leaning in and capturing your lips, which you respond to earnestly by parting your mouth to let your tongues dance again. A few particular hard drops later cause him to detach himself from you to groan out loudly.

The echo of your skins making firm contact against each other fogs his thoughts. His eyes are half-lidded when they gaze at you. You giggle at his expression—shrouded in pure bliss from his blanketed red eyes to his tongue peeking out of his lips. Caressing his jawline, you tilt his head up.

“Whose good boy are you?” you ask. It takes a second for him to answer.

“Y-Yours…”

You pry on, not letting up for even a second in your bouncing, “Who made you a pretty work of art tonight?”

“You! Fuck, you did!” he cries out, head tossed to the side that grants you access to the beautiful expanse of his neck. Your mouth finds his skin, kisses ascending until you reach the junction below his cut jawline as he continues reeling at the sensations building inside him.

“That’s right, Suki. So good, so obedient. I think it’s time I let you cum, yeah? Let you fill my little hole up with all your creamy white goodness…”

Your pace escalates quickly, not granting a relief of pause until you both begin arriving on the cusp of release.

“Fuckfuckfuck!! C-Cumming—!” Bakugou yells out, your grappling walls milking his twitching cock that surges into his climax. As promised, his cum coats your insides wholly white, stuffing you to the brim that has the heat inside you lurching. It’s right after the apex of his pleasure that your pussy spasms around him, body trembling, and toes curled as you peak into your high. He licks at your nipple arched in front of his face while your cries fill the space of the room.

By the time the two of you settle down in the aftermath of your euphorias, you’re both sweaty, panting messes. Bakugou more so as his head rests against your shoulder, allowing you to pet his hair between your fingers and comfort the tremors still racking through him.

“You did so so well, Katsuki. I’m very proud of you.” You lay a sweet kiss on his temple. Your praises manage to elicit a content hum from his lips while he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. Before you can get up and remove the tight ropes still lining his upper body, Bakugou suddenly lifts his head and meets your eyes, a tired yet devious expression painted on his face.

“Next time, we should tie you up in these things.”

#bnha x reader #bnha smut #bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha imagine #bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo smut #bakugou katsuki smut

1K notes · View notes

keigoslovebird · 4 years

Text

Next Chapter

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader

Warnings: Manga spoilers!! Pregnancy and references to pregnancy, you have a child (obvi), aged up characters, breeding kink, negative self image (on Toshi’s part), references to alcohol, self deprecating language, very fluffy Daddy Toshi shenanigans

Genre: Fluff, smut

Word count: 8.3k

Author’s note: I had so much fun writing soft husband Toshi, if it isn’t obvious by the word count. I just want to rub his soft belly and tell him how much I love him. Hopefully you enjoy this as much as I did writing it!

Note: Flashbacks indicated by italics

Wakatoshi Ushijima has always been a man of few emotions and even fewer words, with just one thing on his mind—volleyball.

Since he was a young child, he has always slept, eaten, breathed volleyball. Nothing came close to his fiery, burning passion for the sport, not that he had the time to care about anything else.

That all changed when he retired from professional volleyball at the ripe young age of thirty-one, the years of wear and tear on his body finally catching up to him. He knew it was time when the pain in his joints was so severe he could no longer keep up with his much younger teammates. It was a difficult, emotional decision, but he ultimately viewed it as passing the torch to the next generation of volleyball players.

The announcement of Wakatoshi’s retirement was met with great sadness from the sports community at the loss of such a talented, renowned player, but he left behind an exceptional legacy marked by achievements and historic wins.

His final game with the Schweiden Adlers concluded in a symbolic victory, this chapter of his life drawing to a close the same way it began—with Wakatoshi as an indisputable champion. Every player, coach, and audience member rose from their seats, clapping and screaming words of encouragement. Each of his teammates got on their knees, lowering themselves to press their foreheads into the floor of the stadium, bowing in an ultimate show of respect. The sight of his peers, his coaches, the entire auditorium giving him such an impassioned send off made a heavy lump form in his throat that refused to go away, no matter how many times he tried to swallow it down. Tears pricked at his eyes but he didn’t want to cry, not in front of all of these people.

The dam broke when you sprinted across the court, wrapping yourself around him in a bone crushing hug.

“You did so well Toshi. I am so proud of you,” you praised through choked sobs, pressing your tear-stained face into his neck. Your watery eyes and trembling smile shattered whatever willpower he had, his own tears streaming down his face like a waterfall. All those late night practices away from you, the excruciating injuries, the heartbreaking losses, all led up to this moment. This was the last time the Super Ace would step foot on a volleyball court as a professional player, but all good things must come to an end.

The screaming and clapping was so loud you could barely hear his quiet, trembling whisper of, “I love you.”

----

It took him awhile to adjust to what one would call a “normal” life, one that didn’t include daily flights from country to country or backbreaking practices that lasted from sunup to sundown. Sure he still went to the gym and practiced with the volleyball net strung up in your backyard, but it was nothing like his grueling schedule when he was a pro athlete. To make matters worse, the blinders he wore his entire life that blocked out anything but volleyball prevented him from finding any real hobbies of his own. This meant for the first few months, your husband followed you around the house like a lost puppy, just wanting to be a part of whatever you were doing.

You would be cooking dinner, some soup simmering on the stove, when Wakatoshi’s massive form would come up from behind you to shyly peek over your shoulder.

“What’re you doing?” he wondered, resting his head in the crook of your neck.

You could feel a smile tugging at your lips at how cute he was being, getting used to domestic life, something you never really got to experience until now. Before, you would often be sleeping when he came home at night, and still be asleep when he left in the morning. “I’m just cooking, do you want to help me?” you asked, holding a knife out to him to cut some vegetables. He nodded silently as he took the knife from you.

His chopping skills left much to be desired, but what could you really expect from a man who only ever held a volleyball?

Another time you were sitting on the couch, scrolling through Twitter on your phone. You could feel your husband staring so intensely you were afraid he’d pop a blood vessel in his head.

Looking up at him, you cleared your throat and asked, “Did you need something, Toshi?” You set your phone down and gave him a questioning look, hoping to solve whatever was troubling him.

He was pensive for a moment, his eyebrows scrunching as he figured out what he was trying to say. “No, I just… There’s nothing to do,” he answered finally.

You nearly burst out laughing at his concern for simply being bored, but you held it in. “Of course there’s something to do!” you exclaimed, “You can go on a walk, read a book, watch TV, or even just take a nap.”

His head tilted quizzically, unsure of what you were suggesting. “A… nap? Why would I sleep? It’s the middle of the afternoon,” he questioned, sounding like you had proposed he eat sand and not to take a quick snooze.

You chuckled and walked over to the chair he was sitting in, plopping yourself down into his lap. “Sometimes people sleep in the middle of the day because they’re tired, or just because they want to,” you clarified, “We can go take a nap right now if you would like.”

Suddenly Wakatoshi stood up, causing you to squeak in surprise, his arms securely carrying you bridal style.

“W-what’re you doing!?” you squealed, panicked by your sudden lack of solid ground, slightly struggling in arms.

He tilted his head again, reminiscent of a pet confused by its master’s orders. “We’re going to take a nap together, yes? I’m taking you to our room,” he said, jerking his head in the direction of your shared bedroom.

You stopped squirming once you took in his words, your belly fluttering with affection. Sighing happily, you snuggled your face against his chest, giving him a simple “mhm” in response.

That day Wakatoshi took his first nap since he was six years old and to this day, he still swears he’s never had a more restful, peaceful sleep in his life.

Those instances happened less and less often as he figured out ways to occupy his time that didn’t involve volleyball.

You adopted a dog, a commitment you didn’t want to make in the past due to both of your busy schedules, but your lives became a lot less hectic after Wakatoshi’s retirement. Your husband made it a daily ritual to take your puppy Leo out on a morning run, both of them returning tired and sweaty before promptly passing out for an hour. He took up a job at the local university to help coach their men’s volleyball team, deciding to try it out when the requests to lend his wisdom and skills kept coming in. Although, his favorite pastime now consists of him standing outside on the patio, beer in hand as he sweats over the flames of his fancy silver grill.

But perhaps the most significant change in your lives came in the form of your son, Hidetoshi.

Much like your refusal to commit to taking care of a dog, neither of you wanted to have kids while your lifestyle was so unfit to raise a child. You didn’t mind making those compromises for your husband, having known the path he would take since you started dating in high school. Frankly, you didn’t mind not having children at all, so it surprised you when he was the one to broach the subject.

“What if we did?” he inquired under the darkness of your bedroom.

You turned over to face him, reaching up to gently stroke his cheek. “What if we did what, my love?” you murmured.

His eyes flitted across your face with an uncharacteristic nervousness. “What if we decided to have a child?” The shock on your face made his stomach churn uncomfortably and he almost regretted saying anything at all, but his fears quickly vanished as your expression melted into a soft smile.

“We’d have to talk about it more but I’d love to have your children, Wakatoshi Ushijima.”

You had a deep, lengthy conversation about your wants, needs, plans for the future, and whether or not a kid would fit into them. Once all of your cards were on the table you decided to start trying to get pregnant, a mission that your husband took very seriously.

Even as a teenager Wakatoshi’s sex drive wasn’t very high, and his frequent absence and exhaustion in his adult life made it somewhat difficult for you to have sex often. You made up for it where you could, having phone sex and masturbating together over FaceTime, once you convinced him to do it. When he was bewildered as to why you would suggest such a salacious act, you explained you were a grown woman with needs and if he wasn’t there to take care of them, he’d have to help you in other ways. Once he realized how serious you were, he agreed.

But your husband as a young adult and your husband post-retirement are almost two completely different people in regards to sex. He has seemingly unlimited reserves of stamina, built up over years of rigorous, intense training, and he no longer had an outlet to expend them. So, his new outlet to test his endurance became you and your body.

He began fucking you every chance he got with the vigor and gusto of a hormonal teenager, seeking to make up for lost time. He asked for sex at all hours of the day, waking you up in the middle of the night with the insistent prodding of his arousal and lazily thrusting between your thighs in the early hours of the morning before you had to leave for work. He fucked you in every room in your house and on every surface—on the dining room table, in the shower, on the living room floor, and even on your back patio when you both got a little too drunk on some cheap rose.

You welcomed Wakatoshi’s insatiable hunger with open arms, unable to resist your strong, ridiculously handsome husband, but that, coupled with his seemingly limitless stamina, spelled trouble for your muscles and pelvis. In the first year after his departure from professional sports you had to call in sick to work seven times, too tired to function, too bruised to look presentable, and too sore to walk to the bathroom. At first he felt guilty for fucking you out of commission, but the way you begged him so sweetly to pound your needy, gushing cunt deeper, harder, faster and how you whimpered with delight when he bit bruises down your throat, he didn’t feel that bad. A baser, more primal part of Wakatoshi’s brain purred at his marks covering our body and relished in the way you limped. You were just too tempting, too irresistible not to ravage you every chance he got.

After you agreed to start trying for a baby, your partner’s already voracious sexual appetite became downright menacing now that he had a goal to strive for.

“Gonna breed you, gonna fill you so full with my cum and knock you up,” he grunted as he battered into your sore, dripping hole, your body folded in half in a mating press.

“P-please Toshi! Ah~ please,” you babbled, nonsensical and uncertain what you were even asking for. He had been fucking you for so long everything was muddled into a singular dreamy, intangible haze of pleasure and ecstasy.

Wakatoshi gave your clit a slap, hard enough to make you cry out. “Please what? Please breed you like a bitch in heat? Please stuff you full with my cum?” He leaned down to wrap his fingers around your throat, squeezing with enough force to make your head swim and forcing you to look into his wild olive eyes. “Well, what is it?” he demanded.

“W-want you to b-ah! Want you to breed mee,” you slurred, too drunk on the delicious feeling of his cock dragging against your pulsing walls to form a more coherent sentence.

His thrusts grew sloppy and uncoordinated with his impending orgasm. “G-gonna give you what you want, you cock hungry slut, I’m—” He came with a choked, shuddering groan, his warm cum flooding your awaiting womb.

You were both basking in the afterglow, exhausted and soaked in sweat and your combined fluids, when you noticed the furious blush spreading across your husband’s cheeks. “I apologize for what I said during sex. I… I don’t know what came over me,” he confessed, giving your shoulder a remorseful squeeze.

Giggling, you leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “Don’t be sorry. I really enjoyed it,” you proclaimed, “I love it when you get rough with me.”

Trying to get you pregnant gave your husband a new goal to strive for and he has never been one to do anything with less than his all.

Thanks to your husband’s dedicated efforts, you got pregnant six months after you started trying, to your shared elation and delight. Those two little lines filled you with as much excitement as they made you anxious, but as long as Wakatoshi was by your side, everything would be okay.

Seeing your little bundle of joy in a 3D ultrasound changed you, changed Wakatoshi forever. Up until then you had only seen him as a colorless little blur on a computer screen, but getting to watch his precious face scrunch and his chubby legs kick reminded you that he was a real living being. The late night sprints to the bathroom, horrible morning sickness, and miserably aching back were all worth it when you were able to hold Hidetoshi for the first time. With his olive eyes, brown hair and chubby cheeks, he was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen and to this day he still is.

Taking after his father from the start, Hidetoshi was a happy baby that rarely fussed or cried, not that you complained. He slept soundly through most nights, so soundly you slept in a chair by his crib for the first month to periodically check he was still breathing, despite your husband’s insistence the baby would be fine. Your mother-in-law had insisted that you and Wakatoshi would be exhausted for the first several months after the birth. Imagine her surprised when you and Wakatoshi looked just as well-rested as usual, better even, since you no longer had to deal with pregnancy. Many people, relatives and strangers alike, were astounded at how charming and polite your son was, even as a newborn. He was happy to just sit and play with his toys as you had lunch, smiling and waving at everyone who passed by.

A man as attractive as your husband with a boy as sweet as your son meant that, much to your irritation, women were tripping over themselves to flirt with him. To make matters worse, Wakatoshi picked up your son alone most days due to your office job preventing you from leaving early enough to go with him. This meant many of the moms at Hidetoshi’s school thought your husband was single and they weren’t shy in their pursuit.

A crowd of women surrounded Wakatoshi as he waited for school to end so your son would come running out with his arms spread wide, confident his daddy would always catch him. Most of the moms simply stared at your husband with dreamy looks in their eyes, attempting to make small talk with him.

One especially bold mother reached out and stroked his bicep, slightly squeezing to get a feel for his muscles. “My my Ushijima, you’re so handsome and strong,” she purred, batting her eyelashes at him.

“My wife thinks so as well,” he grunted as he gently but firmly removed his arm from her grasp.

The woman looked as if he had slapped her across the face and cursed her family. “Y-you’re married? But you don’t even have a wedding ring!” she spluttered, “If you have a wife then where is she everyday?”

“I do have a ring. I just don’t wear it on my finger because I’m afraid of losing it,” he clarified, lightly tugging on the chain around his neck for emphasis, his ring clinking softly against the metal. “I’m happily married to my wife who cannot be here because she is hard at work providing for our family. Do not disrespect my wife or my marriage again or we will have a problem.”

After that the other moms kept their distance, choosing to admire Wakatoshi from afar. It did not, however, stop them from staring with envy on the rare occasion you came with him to pick up your child, glowering at you with an intensity that surely wished you would drop dead. Your husband paid them no mind and neither did you because at the end of the day, you’re the one he chose to marry and have a child with. They can all flirts and look as much as they want, but they’ll never have him like you do.

----

Fast forward to present day, Wakatoshi is seven years into his retirement at the age of thirty-eight and Hidetoshi is now six.

Your husband is an assistant coach part time for the men’s volleyball team at an up and coming university, the rest of his time divided between you and taking care of your son. Hidetoshi just started kindergarten, growing far too fast for your liking. He seems to have gotten a double dose of his father’s genes as he’s already several inches taller than his classmates, though you can tell by the way he smiles and the slope of his nose that he’s yours as well. He’s the perfect combination of both of you—he has Wakatoshi’s tenacity, work ethic, and confidence and your sense of humor, intelligence, and empathy. He continues to amaze you every single day and you nor your husband couldn’t imagine a boy more wonderful than him.

These days your lives are a lot less busy than they were when your husband was still a pro, but sometimes it doesn’t feel that way. With all the playdates, school functions, and parent-teacher conferences combined with your own job, Wakatoshi’s games, and regular house chores, sometimes it feels like you’re right back where you were ten years ago. This time, however, you have your incredible husband and son helping you and you wouldn’t trade your life for anything, no matter how hectic it may be.

Today is Saturday, it’s the weekend, and you’re only awake because of the bright sunlight that’s streaming through your bedroom window and hitting you directly in the face. You rub the sleep out of your eyes with the back of your hand, yawning loudly as you stretch your tired limbs. As soon as you try to get out of bed Wakatoshi’s arm around your waist tightens, pulling you flush against his solid, muscular chest.

“Don’t leave. Don’t need to be anywhere,” he mumbles into his pillow, voice even deeper and raspier with sleep. His legs entangle themselves with your own so you’re completely enveloped in the warm, comforting embrace of your husband.

“Need to start getting ready for the party,” you sigh drowsily, but make no efforts to remove yourself from his sleepy but surprisingly strong clutches.

“Not yet,” he says simply, and that’s when you realize when he’s doing. He’s slowly, lazily grinding his morning wood on the soft curve of your ass. You’re a little more awake now.

“Oh I see what this is about,” you chuckle, wiggling yourself against him teasingly.

He groans quietly under his breath, but you can feel the sound rumble in his chest. “Want you,” he says, still groggy from just barely waking up. His fingers find the hem of your shirt and he slips them underneath it, trailing his digits lightly down your stomach, making you shiver.

“Little man will be up soon,” you halfheartedly protest, but you can feel the warmth pooling between your legs.

“He’s not up yet, we have time.” The movements of his hips become more insistent, more demanding and you have to stifle your mewls behind your hand. Wakatoshi easily maneuvers his hand into the waistband of your panties, making a satisfied hum when he discovers you’re already dripping for him.

You’re still resisting, though it’s weak and feeble. The list of all the preparations you have to make for the barbecue still manage to just barely cut through your sleepy arousal. “We have so much to d—ahh~” You try to sound firm, but it just comes out as a breathy moan when he begins rubbing your swollen clit.

He uses his other hand to push up your shirt that’s actually his shirt, tracing small circles around your nipples with his rough fingertips. You try to push your hips into his hand in hopes to gain more friction, but his arms keep you locked in place.

“No need to rush. Let’s just enjoy this,” he insists, but the finger massaging your bud gets faster, knowing just how to make you whine after all the time he’s had to learn your body. He pinches one of your nipples between two fingers and squeezes with just enough force to make you gasp.

His erection has gotten even harder at the sound of your mewls and whimpers, hot and achingly hard against your ass and your cunt clenches in anticipation. Your slick is dripping out of you in thick, syrupy strings that makes your thighs sticky, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Please Toshi, need you,” you beg, desperate for your husband to stuff you full just as he’s done so many times before.

Wakatoshi doesn’t respond, opting to push his pants and underwear down to his knees and you almost sigh in relief, just needing to satisfy the desire that’s threatening to burn you from the inside out. You’re so hot you feel like you’re burning and you throw the comforter off of you to try to escape the heat. He removes the hand that was in your panties, instead using it to rub his hard length along your slick folds. You’re keening and so so needy, gasping each time the head catches on the tight ring of muscle around your entrance.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he grits out, barely able to control himself.

Your breath is coming in short, uneven pants as you try to sink yourself down onto him. “I love you so much I...”

That’s the moment when he sheaths his entire cock inside you in a singular fluid movement. You let out a strangled moan, relishing in the familiar burning as you stretch to accommodate how thick he is. Your pussy clamps down on him like a vice, molding perfectly around his length.

“It’s like you were made for me, made to take me,” Wakatoshi growls, sending another wave of arousal rippling through your body. He stays still for a moment, breathing deeply because he doesn’t want to cum and have this end so soon.

He starts moving his hips, thrusting slow and deep to reach the spongy spot inside you that makes you scream. The hand on your breast reaches around to grab your throat, stifling your moans into small, stuttering gasps. You whine each time he shoves himself deep inside you, his cock dragging deliciously against your spongy walls.

You stay like that for a while, bodies joined in the most intimate of ways as Wakatoshi moves his hips in leisurely, unhurried strokes. Your body is hot, sweaty, thrumming with the pleasure that’s so overwhelming all you can focus on is the intoxicating feeling of your husband’s cock deep inside you. The tightening in your core signals your impending orgasm, but each time you get close to the edge, it escapes your grasp over and over again. You need him to pound into you faster, harder. You need more.

“Toshi please, I-I need,” you manage to stammer out, but your words are stolen from your throat as he sharply thrusts as deep as he can, the tip of his cock smashing against your cervix with just the right amount of pressure.

“Don’t worry. I know just what you need.”

Wakatoshi is fucking you with so much force that your eyes are rolling back in your head, and all you can hear is the wet slapping sound each time he’s sucked back into your wet heat. He’s close, you can tell by the breathy groans he’s making, but so are you. You clench and spasm around him, growing impossibly tighter and bringing both of you closer to climax. His merciless pounding of your insides just gets faster and rougher, and his other hand moves down to rub your clit in tight, fast circles.

The pleasure that clouds your senses is overwhelming, just dancing on the edge between pleasure and pain and your body can’t take it anymore. Your vision goes white as you cum, cunt clamping down so hard Wakatoshi can barely move. You clamp a hand over your mouth to keep from screaming, your body shaking and trembling as you gush around him. The endless clenching of your muscles practically milks his orgasm out of him, a stifled groan leaving his lips as his thick, hot cum coats your insides. All you can do is moan softly in appreciation, too incoherent to say anything else.

Your husband presses a kiss to your sweaty neck. “Are you okay?” he asks, taking in the sight of your limp, spent body.

You haven’t caught your breath yet and your lips won’t form proper words, so you make the only noise you can, “Mmfmm.”

You whine as he slowly pulls out his softening length with an audible pop, sensitive cunt spasming at the slightest stimulation. He untangles himself from you and you want to reach out for him, but you’re too boneless to even attempt to do anything yet.

As Wakatoshi gets out of bed to get a warm washcloth, you hear the familiar sound of little footsteps making their way towards your room and you shoot up in bed, fully alert. You quickly pull the covers over your body, just in time for Hidetoshi to come bounding in.

“G’morning Mama! Where’s Daddy?” he wonders, his little head poking around the corner.

Your husband comes out of the bathroom, now fully dressed and washcloth in hand. “I’m right here, Hidetoshi.” The boy runs straight towards his father who picks him up effortlessly, swinging him around in the air as he squeals with delight. “Did you sleep well?”

Hide bobs his head enthusiastically, “Mhm! I had a dream I was a professional volleyball player just like you.”

Your loud, exaggerated sigh draws both sets of olive eyes to you, but you train your gaze on your husband. “Have you been putting ideas in his head?”

Wakatoshi shakes his head no, but the child in his arms pipes up first, “Daddy has been showing me videos of his old matches from when he was with the Schwimmy Addles.” Your husband makes a noise of surprise, a guilty look on his face now that he’s been found out.

“You two are going to be my undoing, I swear,” you chuckle as you flop back into the fluffy pillows.

Hide squirms in his father’s arms, reaching out to you, but the man recognizes the warning look in your eyes and tightens his arms around him. “We should let Mama finish waking up first. Why don’t we go downstairs and make breakfast?” he asks, tickling his sides.

The boy shrieks with laughter and wriggles even harder in Wakatoshi’s arms. “F-fine Daddy! Stooop it!” Your husband stops his tickling and hoists your son over his shoulder, gently patting his back.

He passes the washcloth to Hide. “Why don’t you give this to your mama? Then we can go have something to eat.”

Hide uses his little arms to hold the cloth out to you and you take it from him, nodding with gratitude. “Thank you sweetie, now go with your daddy.”

Your husband starts walking towards the door as a small, chubby hand waves bye to you and you blow kisses to them as they disappear into the hallway.

Using the washcloth, you clean the mess between your legs and muster the monumental effort it takes to get out of bed. You begrudgingly walk over to your dresser to put on clean pajamas and brush your hair so you’re presentable for a meal with your family. The sound of the fire alarm going off has you racing downstairs to the kitchen where Wakatoshi and your son should be.

As you slide into the kitchen and almost fall on the slippery hardwood in your haste, you realize your panic was for nothing. There’s a pan on the stove, grey smoke billowing out of it. Upon further inspection you discern that it’s eggs, you think, that are simultaneously under and overcooked. The guilty parties are sitting at the kitchen table a few feet away, a jug of milk and a couple of boxes of cereal surrounding them. Hide is shoveling spoonfuls of Cheerios into his mouth as your husband eats his own breakfast, only slightly neater in his approach.

“So… you tried to cook?” you ask, quirking an eyebrow at the large man chewing his Wheat Chex. He looks over at you and nods, mouth full with milk and cereal. “I’m guessing it didn’t go very well, judging by all the smoke,” you say slowly. Your husband simply shakes his head no, unbothered by the fact that he nearly gave you a heart attack.

Deciding it’s not worth the argument or the work to make a proper breakfast, you sit down next to Hide and pour yourself a bowl of Cheerios. He smiles at you, mouth open and full of disgusting half-chewed food, but you still return his beaming grin and ruffle his hair. The both of them are troublemakers in their own ways, but they’re your troublemakers nonetheless.

After you’ve all eaten breakfast, you lay a notepad in front of them that has a list of all the things you have to do before your guests arrive for the barbecue.

You’re standing between them, pointing at each task on the list. “I still have to sweep and vacuum the house, Toshi you need to go to the store and buy all the food, and Hide you need to pick up all your toys that are in the backyard. We have a lot to do today and everyone has to do their part, okay?” you urge, looking between the males on either side of you and they both nod emphatically.

With everyone so busy, it’s difficult to find weekends where they’re all available so this get together has been planned for months. You’ll all be seeing friends and loved ones you haven’t seen in a long time, and it’s a team effort to make sure everything is ready for tonight.

----

You finish all of the tasks on time, with an hour to spare thanks to your joint efforts.

Hide is playing in his room while you and your husband get dressed and ready for what will likely be a long night of socializing and entertaining.

As you’re doing your makeup and getting ready for the party, you notice Wakatoshi staring at himself in the mirror, shirtless. His brows are furrowed, a deep frown on his face as he scrutinizes his reflection. He pinches his belly with both hands, scowling at the softness that used to be hard muscle. Tracing a finger along the stretch marks on his stomach and arms, he sighs heavily.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” you ask from the bathroom.

Your husband walks over to lean against the wall behind you, his unreadable expression reflected in the bathroom mirror. He hesitates before answering, “I’ve let myself go.”

You set your mascara down on the counter and spin around to face him. “Wakatoshi, what in the world are you talking about?”

“I just said what. I heard a couple of my players say that I’m not as strong or as fast as I was when I was a professional.”

You loosely wrap your arms around his torso, squeezing gently. “Of course you’re not what you used to be, Toshi.” At the sight of his deepening frown you quickly add, “You’re so busy being a father, husband, and coach you don’t have the time to work out like you used to.” Getting on your tippy toes, you press a kiss to his nose, “And that’s okay.” It’s a rare occasion that he looks this vulnerable. His anxiety and self-consciousness are so clearly written in his features and it makes your heart ache for him.

“It doesn’t bother you that I don’t look like that anymore?” he asks, pointing at the framed photo of his first win with the Japan National Team that hangs on the wall.

“Why would it bother me? This is the body races my son across our backyard, helps me fix our home we bought together, and makes love to me every night. I love you just as much as I did back then, and even more now that we have Hide,” you reassure him and you mean every word of it. Sure he’s not the most romantic of husbands, but he’s your husband and you love him just the way he is, with or without muscles.

A smile tugs at the corners of his lips and he squeezes you even tighter to him. “I know I probably don’t say this as much as I should, but I love you.”

You pepper kisses all over his eyelids, lips and nose. “And I love you more than anything, Wakatoshi. More than you will ever know.”

Your hands lovingly caress his chest that’s softer now, but still sturdy and muscular, and his arms that are not as lean anymore, but are still just as powerful and capable. “For the record, I love how soft you are these days. It’s great cushioning for when we cuddle.”

“Hidetoshi says the same thing,” he recalls, smiling at the thought of your beloved son.

After giving him a knowing look, you go back to putting on your makeup. “See? I told you. That boy is just as smart as his mother.”

It’s nearing five o’clock so Wakatoshi goes to the backyard to start grilling the food for everyone, while you and Hide finish plating the fruits and vegetables you prepared earlier.

You work in comfortable silence until your son turns to you, his eyes shining with unanswered questions. “Hey Mama?”

Putting down the strawberry you were holding, you sit down on the stool next to him and hold his hands in yours. “What’s on your mind, sweetie?”

“Do you not want me to be a volleyball player like Daddy? Is that why you got mad when I told you he showed me the videos?”

You almost break your neck with how fast you shake your head in denial. “Of course not! I wasn’t mad, it’s just…” you start, trying to find a way to phrase your thoughts that he’ll understand. “Daddy’s job was very hard. His body still hurts a lot from all the times he got injured when he played volleyball. And… his job took him away from me and I missed him a whole lot.”

The look on his face is so reminiscent of his father, it’s like young Wakatoshi was frozen in time and plopped into the chair right next to you. With the way his eyebrows are scrunched up and his mouth is downturned as he thinks, he really is the spitting image of your husband. “Did it make you sad?”

Taking a deep breath, you hold your arms out to him so he can climb into your lap. “Sometimes it did. Mostly at night when I was all alone and Daddy was really far away.”

He rests his head against your shoulder, looking up at you. “Do you wish Daddy had a different job?”

You look out the window at your husband who’s starting up the grill, then look back at the sweet, round face of your boy. “No, I don’t. Daddy’s job was really important to him and it made him so happy that I grew to love it too, even if it made me sad sometimes.”

He sits up in your lap, thinking hard about what you said as he plays with your necklace. “Does Daddy still wish he could do it?”

“Probably, but it’s okay. If he hadn’t stopped, we wouldn’t have you, and you make our lives so much brighter and happier. Your Daddy and I love you so much, you couldn’t even imagine it.”

He spreads his arms out as far as he can. “This much?”

You shake your head. “Nope. Even more.”

“Wow, that’s a lot.” Hide’s eyes are wide with surprise, mouth slightly agape as he tries to imagine something so large and vast.

Laughing, you press a kiss to his head. “It sure is a lot, baby. Now why don’t we finish putting out all the food so we can go see what Daddy’s doing?”

Your son leaps out of your lap to grab handfuls of grapes and blueberries from the cartons on the counter, dropping them into the divided sections of the serving platter. “Aren’t you going to help me, Mama?”

You give him a look of mock offense before standing ramrod straight, giving him a mock salute. “As you command, Commander Ushijima.”

You carry both trays of food out to the backyard, not trusting Hide’s ability to hold them upright, while he carries a volleyball in his arms. Wakatoshi turns at the sound of footsteps, a small smile on his face as your son drops the volleyball, barreling straight into his legs with a force that makes the man grunt.

Hide looks up at his father, both arms wrapped around his legs. “Whatcha doing Daddy?” he asks.

Your husband reaches a hand down to ruffle his hair, a slight look of pain in his eyes from the boy slamming into his shins. “I’m just getting ready to start cooking the food for tonight. Do you want to help me?” He bends down to pick him up and Hide quickly hops into his arms, well practiced and effortless with how strong your husband is. The man points to different parts of the grill, explaining what they do, taking care to keep the boy far away from the flames.

Setting the plates down on the table, you inform Wakatoshi, “Hajime and Tooru should be here soon, so should Tobio and Eita. Satori called and said he might be late, something about his luggage getting lost.” At that moment the doorbell rings, signaling your first guests are here. “I’ll get it. You two stay here and get the food on the grill.”

You open the front door, greeted with the familiar faces of Hajime and Tooru. “It’s so nice to see you two! Come on inside, don’t be shy,” stepping aside, you hold your arm out to welcome them into your home.

“Mrs. Ushijima you get more and more beautiful each time I see you,” Tooru teases as you snicker in response.

“I see marriage hasn’t changed you at all, has it?” you question, more so directed at Hajime.

“I tell him people are going to get the wrong idea,” the shorter man replies, sounding exasperated.

You usher them towards the backyard before picking up various soda and beer cans. “Wakatoshi and Hide are both in the back. You two go ahead and keep them company while I bring these out.”

It takes a few trips before you join them in the backyard, handing each adult a can and a juice pouch to Hide, who’s sitting at the picnic table with Tooru while Hajime chats with your husband.

“How old are you now, little man?” the brunette asks.

Hide holds up five fingers plus his thumb as he swings his legs back and forth. “I’m six! I just started kindergarten.”

They both wave at you as you join them, sitting on the other side of the table. Tooru leans in towards you, a hand cupped around his mouth, and you tilt your ear towards him. “He’s so… polite and well-mannered. Are you sure Ushiwaka is the father?” he whispers, narrowing his eyes.

You lightly smack his head, glaring daggers in his direction. “Yes, obviously. Look at them, they’re basically twins.” Tooru looks at the boy sitting next to him then at your husband standing at the grill, then back to your son, then back to your husband. Hand on his chin, he takes in their matching olive eyes and hair and similar expressions, nodding seriously.

“I was just making sure.”

The doorbell rings a couple more times, Tobio and Eita arriving one right after the other. With almost all of your guests present, everyone is drinking and catching up, some casually passing a volleyball back and forth with Hide.

You’re in the middle of telling Tobio that Hidetoshi is too young to be thinking about his future career when the doorbell rings once more, indicating the last of your guests has arrived. You rush inside to get it, not bothering to check who’s there because you already know who it is. Swinging the door open, you pull the man into a tight hug.

“Satori! We’re so glad you made it,” you exclaim, giving his back a few hard slaps.

The redhead pulls away from you, smiling. “I’m so glad I was able to make it in time. The airport lost my luggage, then my parents forgot to leave me a key to their house so I had to wait until a neighbor could let me in. To make matters worse, I got stopped by security when I landed because of this,” he says, holding up a white box with a bow around it.

You quickly grab the box, shaking it to try to hear what’s inside and sniffing it for good measure. “Ooh la la, did you bring us some fancy French chocolates?” you ask. “Actually, don’t tell me, Hide will want to open it.” You hand the box back to him and gesture him to follow you, “Everyone’s in the back so just follow me.”

With Satori in tow, you step onto the back porch and call your son’s name. He hands the ball to Eita before running over, eyes lighting up when he sees the man standing next to you.

“Uncle Tori!” he shouts, launching himself into Satori’s arms.

“Hey there Little Toshi, how you been? Keeping your dad out of trouble?” he asks, hugging the boy tightly.

“I think so! Well… we burnt some eggs this morning and the smoke machines started beeping, but that doesn’t count, right?”

The red-haired man waves his hand dismissively. “Of course it doesn’t. Any crimes committed in the name of breakfast are excused,” he insists. Pulling the box out from behind his back, he offers it to Hide. “I brought you something all the way from France, do you know where France is?”

Hide takes the present from him, “Yeah, it’s in Europe! Daddy showed it to me on a map.” He struggles a bit with the bow before he decides to just rip it off, lifting up the lid.

Satori points to the various chocolates laid on top of wax paper. “This one is filled with something called ‘ganache,’ which is basically just more chocolate, but it’s liquidy. That one over there has caramel, and the one right next to it is a bonbon filled with strawberry jelly. I picked all the best ones just for you.”

The boy smiles, eyes wandering over the chocolates like they’re bars of gold. “Thank you Uncle Tori! I bet they’re really yummy.”

He pats Hide on the head. “I hope you enjoy them lots. Now I gotta go say hi to your daddy, where is he?” Your son points to where Wakatoshi is standing at the grill, a spatula in one hand and a beer in the other as he chats with Tobio. “Thanks Little Toshi,” he says, ruffling his hair.

Satori walks over to your husband, pulling him into a crushing bear hug before he can say anything. “Wakatoshi, it’s been too long! I sure get lonely all the way in France, have you guys ever thought about moving?”

Wakatoshi freezes for a moment before giving in, hugging the man back, though slightly stiff in his movements. “We will not be moving to France. Hidetoshi will be raised here in Japan.”

The redhead releases him, sensing his discomfort. “Well, it was worth a shot. How’s your retirement? You miss being a pro?”

“I do miss it sometimes, but it was necessary to let a better, younger player take my place. I wouldn’t trade a few more years on the court for the life I have now with my wife and my son.”

Satori lets out a loud whistle. “I never thought I would hear the day that Wakatoshi Ushijima would say he cares about anything more than volleyball.”

“Volleyball was my entire life before, but they’re my entire world.”

The shorter man just smiles, silent for a moment before pointing to the apron your husband is wearing. “I didn’t think you’d actually wear that thing, Wakatoshi!” The apron black with bright red lettering that says ‘Wakatoshi: Grill Master,’ with a drawing of a flaming steak next to it.

“It keeps my clothes clean. Why wouldn’t I wear it?” he asks, genuinely curious. The redhead just laughs and shakes his head, patting him on the shoulder.

Your husband finishes grilling the food, much to the excitement and relief of the many hungry men who have been circling him like a hawk. Everyone takes from the piles of meat and vegetables, noticeably happier now that their stomachs are full. You’re all sitting around the picnic table, laughing and enjoying each other’s company.

Hajime recalls a story from when he first signed on as the athletic trainer for the national team. Wakatoshi had approached him after practice, saying he had a serious issue that he wanted someone to take a look at. Concerned for his player’s wellbeing, naturally he took him into the locker room and Wakatoshi took off his shirt. At first, he thought he might’ve stretched one of his ligaments too far or had even torn his rotator cuff muscle. Imagine his surprise when Wakatoshi pointed to an ingrown hair on his back, saying it was inflamed and causing him pain. It was then that Hajime had to explain that he’s not that type of medical professional, and that he should make an appointment with a dermatologist.

The sun starts to set, but with the fun everyone is having they barely notice. The night begins to wind down once Hide yawns, rubbing his eyes tiredly, and it sets off a chain reaction of yawning that reaches every person at the table. Your son starts tugging on your sleeve, informing you he’d like to go to bed. Not wanting to leave him alone in the house and taking note of the exhaustion on everyone’s faces, you politely suggest to end the night early. A chorus of heads bob, indicating their desire to head home and sleep.

All three of you hug and kiss everyone goodbye, waving to them as they drive away. You sigh from exhaustion and head inside to put Hide in bed. You and your husband hold each of his hands and take him to his room, pulling back his covers so he can climb in.

He yawns again and closes his eyes, settling into his bed. “Night night Mama, Daddy. I love you.”

You stroke his cheek lovingly before placing a kiss on his forehead. “Goodnight sweetie, I love you too.”

Your husband comes up from behind you to kiss Hide as well. “Sleep well, Hidetoshi. I love you.”

With your son asleep in his own bed, all you have to do is take off your makeup and brush your teeth before you too can sleep.

You’re in the middle of washing your face when Wakatoshi comes into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

“I enjoyed tonight, I hope you did too,” he says.

You turn around to look at him and smile. “I did, it was amazing to see everyone in one place. It’s been years since we were all able to see each other.” After you finish washing your face, you stretch and yawn loudly, telling your husband, “I’m getting in bed now, join me when you’re done.”

Climbing under the sheets, you nestle yourself into the softness of your bed. You nearly doze off right then, but the shifting of the bed under Wakatoshi’s weight keeps you awake just a bit longer.

He slides in behind you so he can spoon you, an arm slung over your waist.

“Goodnight Toshi, I love you.”

“Goodnight, I love you too.”

Before he falls asleep, Wakatoshi thinks of all the things in his life that led him here, to you, his wonderful wife, and his precious son.

Leaving professional volleyball was one of the hardest decisions he’s ever had to make in his thirty-seven years of living, but the end of that chapter of his life gave him Hidetoshi.

He knows that every moment of uncertainty, suffering, and hardship was worth it because it ultimately led him to you and your son, to this life you’ve built together.

He’d do it all over again a thousand times over if it meant that your beautiful, shining face would be there to greet him in the end.

#ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #ushijima x you #hq smut #hq fanfic #reader insert #hq reader insert #hq imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #ushijima smut #bunny scribbles

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hollyoakhill · 3 years

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do you have any tips on how to write a good oc? I just read your Intruder fic (it was absolutely amazing!!!!! thank u for blessing us all with that masterpiece) and one thing that really stood out to me was how 3-dimensional and well developed the characters were- their different personalities, the way they interacted with eachother, their behavior in relaxed vs stressful situations, all felt so real and genuine. I know it might be a complicated question, but how do you make your ocs feel real?

Aaa thank you, that is such high praise!

I'm not an expert, but I can go into a little detail of how I approach the creation of my characters. At the risk of this becoming lengthy, I'll put it all under the cut. None of these things will be one way of creating a character, so feel free to pick and choose these tips as you see fit!

1. Tropes are your friend!

It might be disheartening to realize that your character may fall into certain archetypes - the Mentor, the Cheerful Protagonist, the Angry Rival, the Silent Hunter, etc, but this is far from a bad thing. By being aware of what sort of archetype your character falls into, you can use it as a starting point to create some truly fun and memorable characters.

2. Consider what your character does

Do they have a job or some kind of duty? What kind of person do they need to be in order to do their job? Are they unemployed, and if they are, how do they choose to spend their time?

I like to think about this a lot because it helps inform a lot of their other interactions. A character who is used to being in action might get antsy in longer periods of quiet, or maybe they might relax entirely.

3. Your OC's Neighbor

Creating a character all by themselves can be rough. Sometimes all they need is a friend. I can confidently tell you that pretty much all of my characters exist because I started with one Main OC who just needed a friend (or enemy). Sometimes, creating one character means you have to create a whole family of them. This is where tropes will be super helpful again because it will save you the time and energy to work on the characters that matter to your narrative.

And hey, sometimes by creating a Neighbor to your Main OC, you open the door to create some of the most fun and memorable characters in your narrative. (Kitfox would not exist without Sunshine, and Frostbite would not exist without Kitfox.)

4. Play dollhouse with them

Just plop 'em in a scene! Any scene will do. Have one character ask a question and force your fresh baby OC to answer it. What do they say? Do they say nothing at all? Force them into a house with an exit guarded by fifty dogs and a shark. Now, toss a meteor in there. How do they respond to this new threat? Do they run for cover or do they perhaps have a loved one to rescue?

Honestly, anything goes. This is by far the most effective way to foster and nurture a new OC's personality. I've written countless scenes of a character in scenes that will never be 'canon' because it's all just a playground for them to grow.

I really can't overstate how useful this method is to me. To get you started out, here are some fun questions I like to start a scene with:

- "How the hell did you get in here?!"

- "Are you... bleeding, sir?"

- "I thought she was with you?"

- "Why would you let him into the restricted zone?"

- "When will the reinforcements arrive?"

- "Did you eat the last donut?"

5. Find your character's voice

This might be the trickiest thing when making a new character. It's something that might emerge as your write them more and get a feel for their personality. It kind of goes back into the point of playing dollhouse with your OC's a bit, to experiment and have some fun with the different ways your character sounds. Do they have a distinct accent, do they speak with clipped tones, are they quite short and stoic or are they loud and brash? How you write their dialogue will affect your character's personality a lot. Perhaps they don't speak at all? How do they communicate with others? This leads into my next point:

6. Find your character's mannerisms

Body language is probably one of the biggest factors in characterization. It's not just what a character says, but it's what they do as they say it. Do they gesticulate wildly, or are they sheepishly fiddling with the hem of their shirt?

"Where is the book?" he commanded, stepping briskly toward his men. His voice resounded in the massive chamber, the vibrations felt under the soles of their boots.

"Where is the book?" she smiled, gently brushing a blond lock from her face. She leaned against the counter with mild disinterest, but with shifty eyes that said that she was looking for something else.

A LOT of writing can be done outside of the quotation marks. Have fun with the things you add in there! Really, there's nobody stopping you.

Non-verbal characters are fun to write because it really makes you consider the way they move and behave around different people. Are they perhaps proficient in sign language or do they use different tools to communicate? Dialogue can sometimes be far more than just two characters speaking, and sometimes an interaction done without a single word uttered can be more powerful than a lengthy sonnet.

7. Pretend they're real

This might be a little silly, and this is definitely where you can choose to ignore it entirely. I like to keep things within the realm of naturalism. It means that these characters I create all have a hint of human, real-world flavor in them, no matter how whimsical or ridiculous they are.

What I mean in this case, are just simple, ordinary quirks that may or may not have any bearing on the narrative at all. Like, I'm talking just human, ordinary, flawed things, like bad habits, illnesses, mistakes, making stupid decisions... anything really. Sometimes this means having your superhero OC ordering pizza takeout because they're always too tired to do the dishes, your honorable paladin having a toy collection habit, or your witty, wisecracking Captain having depression (cough, cough, Kitfox). Does your character need to take meds? Do they have issues focusing on a subject for a long time? Do they have a gambling habit? These are all things that can affect how they interact with others, or how they behave themselves.

A lot of writing tips mention giving your characters a Flaw (hubris, arrogance, overprotectiveness, narcissism, etc.) It's a great writing principle, but it doesn't always work for me, because I feel like they can be too floaty when I still don't fully know how the OC works. That's why I like to work with this particular Human principle. Keep in mind, I'm not saying these things are Bad Things, but rather ordinary, human quirks that we have to deal with on a daily, and so does your OC.

///

Aaaaand I've been going on for a long time hahah. It seems I got a little carried away! Anyway, these are all things I like to think about when writing, and it's in no way peer-reviewed by other authors, so pick and choose these subjects as you see fit! Hope this helps and have fun OC-making!!

#writing

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terubakudan · 3 years

Text

This may be an old article from 3 years ago, but these cultural aspects/observations still apply even today. And though this is strictly a Chinese perspective, a lot of these everyday life bits are observed in Overseas Chinese communities in countries such as The Philippines, Malaysia, Indonesia, etc. as well as countries heavily influenced by Chinese culture like Taiwan, Japan, and Korea.

I've always liked learning about other cultures and making comparisons between how things are done East vs West. Which probably stems from growing up with two cultures and Mom raising me on American movies xD

So the irony is if you asked me how many Chinese, Taiwanese, or Hong Kong actors I know, chances are I know as much as you do xD Like Jackie Chan, Andy Lau, and that's about it. But if you asked me about Western (specifically American and British) actors, then I have a useless brain dump of movie trivia and who was with who in what movie xD

Hmmm, both Taiwan and the Philippines are two distinct cultures but both look up to a certain country and are fascinated by that. In Taiwan's case, Japan and the US for the Philippines. In both cases, this is due to being under the rule of those countries in their history. Taiwan being under Japan for 50 years, and the Philippines being under Spain for 300+ years, followed by periods of American and Japanese rule. To put it simply though:

Taiwan is "mini-Japan with a very Chinese culture".

The Philippines is "former colony of Spain with lots of American influences".

But unlike the author, I've never set foot in any Western country, so my understandings are strictly what I've observed in media, which while it can be accurate, doesn't compare to actually experiencing the culture.

Some further elaboration on most points:

#1 We quite literally use chopsticks for everything. We use it to pick rice, viands, vegetables, fruit, smaller desserts, almost all the food you can think of.

But where do you put your chopsticks when you're not using them? Just put them on top of your bowl or flat on your plate. But do not ever stick them vertically. It's taboo, since it looks like incense sticks, which we use to pray for those who have passed, like our ancestors or during funerary services.

#3 The majority of Asia is obsessed with fair/white skin. In my time at the Philippines, I grew up watching all these Dove Whitening commercials and my classmates often commented on how fair my skin was, how they envied it etc. In Taiwan, girls often say they don't want to 變黑 (biàn hēi) 'become dark'. Japan and Korea too are not innocent of this either (if their beauty/skin products weren't a dead giveaway).

People here at Taiwan often mistake me for being from Hong Kong or Japan (as long as I don't speak Mandarin with my heavy accent xD). A Taiwanese classmate of mine joked that she often gets mistaken for being from Southeast Asia due to having a darker complexion. And while I laughed it off with her at that time, looking back, I now realize she was lowkey being racist. xD

And believe me Filipinas have mentioned literally being told 'your skin is so dark' here in Taiwan, or being given backhanded compliments like 'you're pretty despite having dark skin' and...*facepalms*

My point is, beauty is not exclusive to skin color. People who still think that are assholes.

#5 Not to say we don't have salt and pepper, but yes soy sauce and vinegar are the classic condiments you see on the table, be it at home or at a restaurant.

And if I may add, Taiwanese love their pepper. xD If you ever get to eat at a night market or a smaller "Mom n' Pop-style" restaurant here, some dishes/soups tend to add quite an excessive amount of pepper. Not like anthills, but quite liberally and way more than average. Enough that you see traces of pepper at the bottom of the food paper bag or swirling in your soup. xD

#6 I know this all too well from personal experience. In my years of studying at Taiwan, I always had roommates. 3 in my first school (I graduated high school in the Philippines pre K-12 so I had to make up 2 years of Senior High), followed by 2 in college, with the exception of 1 in freshman year.

My college did offer single person dorms but at around 9000 NTD ($324) per month compared to around 6000 NTD ($216) per semester. Because I wanted to save, the choice was obvious for me xD. But ah, this doesn't mean I don't value personal space, in fact I love having the room to myself, and since both my roomies would go home to their families every weekend, weekends were bliss for me xD

And you don't have to be friends with your roommates (that's an added bonus however), you just have to get along with them. I was quite lucky to have really great roommates all throughout my schooling years.

#9 In the Philippines, we do. Owing mostly to American influences and maybe being predominantly Catholic? xD

#10 *sigh* Chinese parents and parents from similar Asian cultures tend to put too much emphasis on grades, so much that kids could get sent to cram school as early as elementary. This is because what school you get into could literally affect your future job opportunities, and while that's not exclusive to any particular country/culture, I feel it's especially pronounced here in Asia. I'm really lucky my own parents weren't that strict about it. However, if your parents don't point the mistakes out to you, chances are you'll do it yourself, if you're an Asian kid like me anyway. xD It just becomes a habit.

#11 My family is an exception to this. xD We do say 'I love you' directly, but complete with the 'ah eat well ok?', 'don't scrimp on food', 'sleep well' and similar indirect words/actions of affection. We were doing 'Conceal, Don't Feel' before it became popular. xD

#13 I'm kind of confused about this but this has sort have changed over the years in which eye-contact is now more encouraged. But don't stare, especially at elders and authority figures. Sometimes it's just shyness though. xD And I've observed this with my own Taiwanese friend, especially when I'm complaining or ranting to her about something. xD I'm a person who likes to express my opinions strongly, which tends to scare/alienate some of the locals here, as doing so is kind of frowned upon. Thankfully, she does listen and offers her take on things.

#14 Ah this. xD In the Philippines, this is a common greeting known as beso-beso, and I freaked out too when an auntie did that to me. xD Needless to say, Mom lectured me later on what that was. ^^"

#16 Along with #3 another crazy beauty standard. In my view, people always look better with a little meat on them and when they're not horribly thin. Asia still has a loonng way to go with accepting different types of bodies if you ask me. This combined with modern beauty standards has made the pressure for women especially to 'look beautiful' higher than ever.

I know many people love them but please, starving yourself or glorifying eating disorders is never OK just to get this kind of 'ideal' body. I'm not part of the Kpop fandom, but even I think when idols get bullied just for gaining the least bit of weight among other insensitive comments, that's really going too far.

#17 'If you want to make friends, go eat.' <- I couldn't agree more. In the Philippines we have a greeting: 'Kumain ka na ba?' (Have you eaten?) . Similarly in Taiwan, we have 吃飯了沒? (chī fàn le méi), both of these can mean that in the literal sense but are often used as greetings instead. By then which invitation to having lunch/dinner together may or may not follow. Food really is a way for us to socialize and to catch up with what's going on in each other's lives. Not to say we don't have regular outings like going out to the mall, going shopping, etc. but eating together is a huge part of our culture, be it with family or friends.

And while I'm at it, some memes that are way too accurate good to pass up xD

Parents, uncles, aunties alike will fight over the bill xD

Alternatively:

You just space out until your name is called xD

My parents are guilty of the last one. Logic how? xD

#18 True. xD I like giving compliments out to people but I have a hard time accepting them myself, though I've learnt how to accept them much more now than before. We're kind of raised to constantly downplay ourselves so we often say things like 'ah no no' or 'I'm really not that good'. The downside of this of course is that it can come off as somewhat fake. xD

Again from personal experience, that same classmate who made the lowkey racist remark, she was good, she was on the debate team, was a honor student, knew how to mingle with people, but she downplayed herself way too much, while praising me but I honestly thought that she never really meant it from how she treated me. She wanted to keep me around her yet make backhanded compliments at me and she didn't want me socializing with my other classmate who is now my friend. *sigh* It was only after discussing this with one of my roomies did I realize how this 'excessive downplaying' might come off to people like me who more or less grew up with a more 'Westernized' mindset. I'm not saying brag about your achievements but don't be overly humble about them either, which can also be a turn off.

#20 We do tend to be a lot more realistic on how we view things, neither entirely optimistic nor pessimistic. We try to think of things practically and often analyze things on pure logic. A downside of this however, is that Chinese people can be overly practical. Taiwanese for instance don't like to 'find inconveniences' and generally keep to themselves, meaning, they won't help you in your hour of need even when they do have the capabilities. Sounds really harsh I know, but in my 6 years of living in Taiwan, while this doesn't apply to all the people, a lot of them really do only find/talk to you when they need something.

So for some people saying Taiwanese are 'friendly', that's BS xD If you ask me, Filipinos are infinitely more friendly, and again while not all, generally make more of an effort to help you when you need it. I really felt more of a real sense of community during my years growing up in the Philippines compared to Taiwan.

#21 Children do tend to stay with their parents well into college and adulthood, since Chinese families are indeed very family-oriented, in a lot of cases, grandparents often live under the same roof as us as well! And it really does save a lot of money. I see there's a real stigma in the US when it comes to "living with your parents", but that's starting to change especially because of Covid and having more and more people move back in with their parents.

Housing unfortunately is pretty much hella expensive no matter where you go, and Taiwan is no exception. Steep housing prices and the very high cost of raising a child (schooling + buxiban fees, etc.) contribute to a very low birth rate and thus an aging population like Japan. It's not uncommon to see both parents working in Taiwan.

#23 I'm an overthinker myself, but I totally agree with the author that the best is to strike a good balance between these two. Which I guess is why I love drawing or any other related creative attempts, it helps me be more spontaneous or well, creative! I like to remain intellectually or artistically inspired.

#24 Is French high school really like that? xD My friend did watch SKAM France and more or less got a culture shock from what was depicted on the show. I can confirm however that most high schools both in the Philippines and Taiwan require students to wear a uniform, only in college is everybody free to wear casual/civilian clothes.

#26 Ah this is part of our Asian gift-giving etiquette xD We always open gifts later after the event/meeting and in private. Never open them in front of the person who gave it to you or in front of others. This is to prevent any 'shame/embarrassment' that may result both to yourself and to the gift giver. I know this may come off as something weird since some people may want a more honest response or immediate feedback when it comes to gift-giving, but that's just how it is in our culture. You're always free to ask us though (in private) if we liked the gift or not ^^"

#28 I want to say the same goes to drinking, partying, and drugs however xD Those are things which are still frowned upon in our culture. And to be honest, whenever I see those in movies, it does kind of turn me off xD It doesn't mean that we're "uncool" or "boring", we just think that there are much better or healthier ways of "having fun".

#31 Is this true in France?! Man I would kind of prefer that instead of people being on their phones all the time xD This kind of goes with #20 in that Chinese are overly practical or logical, and don't read fiction as much as nonfiction. My Taiwanese friend is an exception though, she's a bibliophile who loves the feel of paper books compared to e-books, and it's a trait of her that I like a lot. Both the Philippines and Taiwan however have a huge fanbase when it comes to manga and anime though.

I'm all for reading outside of "designated reading" at schools especially. Reading fiction improves your vocabulary too, and can be quite fun! It helps you imagine and really invest in a world/story, and if you ask me something that I feel Westerners are better at, they're more in touch with their emotions and creativity, and are thus much more able to write compelling or original stories. Believe me, I've seen a fair amount of Chinese movies that rip off Western movie plotlines xD

#33 Nothing much to add on here..except that since I'm a "weird" person, Mom often jokes that she got the wrong baby from the hospital. xD

#35 True. While I agree with the care and concern that your fellow community can give you, the downside of this is we tend to only hang out with our own people, e.g Chinese with Chinese, Taiwanese with Taiwanese, etc. I've seen too that it's especially hard to make friends in Japan and Korea as a foreigner. Not only is there the language barrier, but the differences in culture too. In a way, Asians can be pretty close-minded on getting to know other cultures or actually making friends with people from other countries. I know this all too well being half-Taiwanese/half-Filipino, being neither "Filipino" enough nor "Taiwanese" enough. xD It's more of people here being too used to what they're comfortable with.

#36 Oh this is something I feel that Chinese students and other students from similar cultures should really improve on. xD How will people respect you if you don't speak your mind?

I felt bad especially for my Spanish teacher in college, granted it was an introductory course (Spanish I and II) but the amount of times that our teacher had to prompt a student to recite/speak even with clear hints already made her (and me too) extremely frustrated. The thing is, these are college students, I personally feel they don't have any reason to be so shy of speaking and technically by not doing so they're slowing the pace of the class too much and a lot of time is wasted.

Unfortunately you can't always be very vocal with your thoughts and opinions in most Asian cultures. I would say strive for that, but at the same time, play your cards well, especially if you're in a workplace setting.

If you made it to the end, thank you for reading and here's a cookie! 🍪 I'm not perfect and there's bound to be something I missed so please let me know if you spotted anything wrong. Feedback/questions are very much welcome and please feel free to share about your country/culture's differences or similarities!

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