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januaryembrs · 8 months

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MAGIC BROWNIE | Eddie Munson x Sunshine!Reader

Description: Sunshine girl accidentally eats one of Eddie’s “Magic Brownies” and he takes care of his baked girlfriend.

Word count: 3.3k

Trigger Warnings: weed obviously, accidental drug usage, quick mention of child neglect when talking about Eddie as a kid not eating enough. Reader gets undressed but no sex (eddie has a horny thought however)

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This was not how he had expected their day to go. She loved baking for him and Wayne, loved making sure her scrawny, lanky boyfriend was fed, and boy could he eat. Wayne swore he had the stomach(s) of a cow. Any food left on his plate? Give it to Eds. Food ready to go out of date? Nope, Eds is already scarfing it down. Weekly food shop was just brought in? Munson is dining like a king before the fridge door is even open.

Maybe it was from when he lived with his dad and he would forget to feed the little, jet black haired boy for days on end and he would have to be given half his teacher’s lunch when they saw how gaunt he was through his mop of curls. Maybe he had yet to adjust to the idea that he would still have food without storing it for winter like a damn bear, either way she never dared to think about her sweet Eds and his kind uncle going hungry on weeks when money was tight.

But when dessert became an option, Eddie’s sweet tooth was in heaven.

They had the house to themselves on Sundays; Wayne was always pulling doubles on a weekend to make up the extra cash, the garage was always busiest then. They already had leftovers from last night to sort them for the evening, so what else better than to cook than a thick tray of rich brownies she’d practised not even a week earlier.

Unbeknownst to her, Eddie had done his own kind of baking.

“Okay, be there for seven,” He said into the corded phone, biting at his nail as he thought. Nodding to himself, before remembering they couldn’t see him, he hummed a goodbye and hung up the phone.

“Who was that?” She asked, emerging from the loo with freshly wet hands, wiping them on her jeans as she tied the pretty little pink apron around her waist again. Watching her lean down to open the oven door, he smiled to himself, handing her the matching oven mitts.

“No one,” He muttered, shamelessly watching her ass as she bent down to pick out the hot tray, “Just got a package to drop off later,”

“What, like to the post office?” She asked, her eyes flicking to him innocently, shoving the pan out for him to smell.

Smiling toothily at her, as if he knew a secret she didn’t, he kissed her forehead sweetly. “Where else would I take a package, sweet girl?” He murmured, before shoving his finger in the centre of the chocolatey goodness with a childish raspberry blown through his cherry lips.

Hissing when his finger met the hot sugar in the centre, he shoved the digit into his mouth with a groan of delight and pain.

“It’s still hot, honey,” She scolded, putting the tray onto the side to assist the frowning boy.

“You’re still hot, baby,” He said, his words distorted by his finger being in the way of his tongue. Pulling it from his mouth, she inspected the spit covered skin carefully, seeing where it raised red slightly.

Giggling at his words, she kissed the tip gently, unaware of the way his eyes seemed to follow the way her mouth pressed to his burn so carefully, feeling his tummy shiver at his girlfriend's pure actions.

“Feel better Eds?” She asked, looking up at him with hopeful eyes, his tongue going dry immediately. His chin bobbed for a second, scrambling for words, before he nodded wordlessly, turning away from her before she could see the way his cheeks blazed a rosy heat of their own.

“Um, I just gotta-” He stammered, heading for his room as she pulled out a sharp knife to cut the slab into segments. His mouth was dry as he dug out the brownies he’d made himself two days prior, though these weren’t as chocolatey as his sweet girlfriend’s and more rammed to high (ha) heavens full of weed.

Did he prefer the taste of hers? Yes, any day of the week she was an amazing cook. Had he burnt the top and left a thick crust whilst somehow managing to undercook the middle? Yes, though he was still at odds with himself just how he’d done so. But were his little gooey creations going to see him and Wayne through two weeks of rent? Absolutely.

Dashing back to the kitchen with the blue tupperware under his arm, he stopped long enough to see her transferring them into some kitchen paper inside her own container, her fingers gentle enough to carve ice let alone handle confectionery.

“I’ll be right back, just gotta take care of some things. How about I swing by Family Video on the way back and rent us The Shining?” He asked, a large, scuffed hand coming up to her face to cup her cheek, brushing away the flour that dusted her eyebrow.

She scrunched up her nose, but kept his doe gaze nevertheless, big, Bambi browns staring down at her, entranced.

“I dunno, Eds. I like those films but they always make me wanna puke afterwards,” She said, lips twisting in disgust, “Plus I get kinda scared when Wayne’s not home anyway, I don’t wanna be thinking of crazy axe wielders. Hawkins is crazy enough as it is,”

Putting the tupperware on the side, next to her pretty pink one, he took her warm cheeks in his grasp and tugged her face closer.

“Which is where I come and hold your hair back and protect you from the intruders, silly girl,” He asked, a kiss going to the tip of her nose, “What does my lady want instead then? Gremlins?” Another to her forehead, “The Lost Boys?” There goes another to her chin of all places, “Labyrinth? Come on, I know you have the hots for Bowie as a Goblin King ya’ little freak,” He blew a raspberry on the apple of her cheek, a big wet kiss following it.

Giggling some more and shoving him away, rubbing her face on her shoulder, “How about E.T?” She asked, her hands coming to rest on his wrists.

He stilled, eyes wide with his own grimace. “E.T? Now that’s a scary movie,” He said, watching his girlfriend roll her eyes and smirk, “I’m serious. That wrinkly mother fucker gave me nightmares, with his extendable neck and his weird eyes and shit-”

“Alright, alright, Labyrinth it is.” She conceded, leaning on her toes to kiss him sweetly on the mouth, “I’ll still need you to hold my hand all night, alright Goblin King?” She asked, watching his cheeks flush as she leaned in closer to him, “Movie night rules, unfortunately,”

He couldn’t remember if he’d said anything, just that his mouth had moved in some kind of agreeing motion, his eyes trained on the way she licked her pretty lips as she leaned in for another kiss. Two years together and she still had his heart hammering away behind his ribcage whenever she kissed him.

He barely remembered getting in his van with the package, its hot pink lip staring at him from the passenger seat, the thought of her shampoo smell invading his nose whenever she got so close he could see each individual pigment in her eye. He barely remembered dropping it off, other than taking the money and wishing his customer a good evening, “I know I will be,” He said under his breath, flooring it to Family Video.

“One Goblin King and empty hand at your request, fair maiden,” Eddie said, practically tumbling through the door, his van all but ditched in the driveway. Looking around for his sweet girlfriend, he furrowed his brow when he heard not even a peep in response. Usually she would be bouncing over to him with a kiss ready on her lips made just for him, maybe even a bowl of warm, buttery popcorn if he was really lucky.

But nothing.

Twitching the curtains, he made sure her car was in the drive, and just as he’d thought, she’d not left. So where in hell's gates was she?

“Baby?” He called through the small trailer, his panic starting to set in. Surely an intruder would have taken jewellery or money, not a whole woman for christ sakes. Maybe it was the past few years with the Lab being shut down for its dangerous radiation, or the talk of the Russian’s invading their little town, or even that Summer kids went missing from their friend’s pool party, he didn’t know. She was probably just waiting behind the door to jump out at him, or some dumb trick like that. She probably was just in his bedroom getting changed or something like that.

He had never moved through the little hallway so fast, hating how quiet it was.

His heart dropped when he saw his tiny room empty. His unmade bed that he had never seen looking smart sent him over the edge. Was there a struggle? Had his wardrobe door always open? Of course it was, he was a master of leaving things unfinished. He’d leave a sandwich without filling if he wasn’t always so damn hungry. No, he was being silly. There was nothing off about his room, nothing that screamed kidnap other than the god damn silence- why was it so damn quiet-

Then he heard a creak from the bathroom, and it was like his chest took a xanax. “You in there, honey?” He called, doubling back on himself to stand outside the white door, leaning in closer to hear inside. Hearing still no response, he practically melded with the wood, cheek squished against the cold wall, “Baby?”

Nothing, nothing but slight movement from the other side.

Huffing, he reached for the handle, “I’m gonna come in, alright? I’m just checking you’re okay, I’m not a peeping Tom or anything-“

Their bathroom was tiny, was only there for usage over luxury, but it was cosy. Yet, it couldn’t have prepared Eddie for the odd sight. His girlfriend, seemingly playing with something in her hands, fully clothed in a half filled bath, her denim jeans submerged, socks still on her feet, top floating riding up to her chest with the water pressure.

Staring at the back of her head for a moment, the confusion clear on his face, he looked around for anything that could help explain the odd situation, before his eyes fell back on her.

“You alright, honey?” He asked, approaching her carefully, though it took all of one step to make it to the small, PVC tub. Her head lolled to rest against the wall, and she seemed to have only just noticed him standing there.

“Edsy!” She said, smiling dopily up at him, “I was wondering where you got off to,”

Chuckling unsurely, he rested his hand on top of her head, giving her a gentle stroke. “You alright there, Little Mermaid?”

She snorted, reaching up to show him her hands, “I was just painting my nails, see?” Except all he saw was red marker pen drawn over her fingertips, the nails more akin to a toddler coming home from preschool. Thinking she was kidding, he smirked.

“Beautiful baby-” He stopped himself, the smile dropping in an instant when he finally met her eyes. She went to look away, her hand holding the red crayola pen tightly to continue her artwork, but his hand shot out to grab her chin. “Wait, wait, wait. Look at me,” He swore he had never sounded so serious.

She blinked up at him after a moment, again as if taking a second to compute his order, and looked up at him with droopy lids. Smiling at him sweetly, his gaze locked in on her red corneas, bloodshot and absolutely baked expression.

“Baby, are you high? Did you go under my bed?” He asked seriously, turning her head to the streetlight filtering through the window to get a better look.

“Why would I do that, Eds?” She asked, her words drawling, quieting as she ended her sentence as if she hadn’t the energy to finish. “I just had a couple of the brownies I made and started feeling warm and didn’t wanna be sweaty when you got home-”

Hand flying to stroke his temple, he gently caressed his girlfriend’s face, understanding her issue. He must have taken the wrong fucking box.

“Oh baby, oh my sweet girl. I am so sorry.” Taking her head into his chest, he pressed a kiss to her parting. “I’ve spiked my own girlfriend, new fucking low Munson,”

“-ddie,” Her voice was muffled from his Hellfire shirt, “We gonna watch Jared?”

“Jareth, honey,” He sighed, looking down at his stoned girlfriend with a concealed smile. He felt guiltier than a sinner in church but god was she cute high. “Come on, let’s get you dry,”

Hoisting her out of the tub with his hands under her arms, he got her to take off her jeans and top as he held up a large bath towel as a curtain between the two of them, wanting to give her some level of privacy. Hearing her clothes hit the floor with a heavy thud, he wrapped her body with the big towel, feeling her hands in his hair as he helped her into his room, her feet shuffling obediently.

“Now the movie?” She asked, plopping herself down on the bed, her eyes lazily scanning over his walls of posters as if she wasn’t here three times a week. Digging around in his bottom draw for spare clothes, he tried to hide his snort as she nudged at his butt with her foot. “Eddie, now the movie?”

“Nearly, baby,” He said, handing her a grey shirt and boxers big enough to fit comfily on her. “Gonna get you a bit comfier first, I’ll make you some mac and cheese,”

“But I’m not hungry,” She said, tugging the shirt over her head with a whine, before flopping back, feeling dizzy, “You do the legs for me,”

“Huh?” Eddie asked, blushing when she spread her legs and gestured to him with the boxers in her hand.

“You do the legs, my head feels funny,” She mumbled, spreading her arms out on the bed, fingers digging into the fluffy duvet. He knew it was probably soft under her dulled touch.

Eddie and her had been intimate many times before. Hell, they’d had sex before they’d even reached the one month mark, but having her ask him to take her underwear off, even so innocently, had his face red as a saint.

“Alright, honey. I’m gonna make you feel better, get you some water.” He said, hoping she couldn’t feel how his hands shook as he slipped her underwear down her legs, avoiding looking at her private parts for her dignity’s sake, “And trust me you’ll want something to eat in an hour or two,”

“If you say so, Eds,” She murmured as he gently held her ankle to put her foot through the leg hole, doing the same to the other and pulling them over the meat of her thighs that had his mouth watering. Giving her knee a little kiss (he tried to stop himself, he did) he asked her to sit up a little so he could bring the underwear all the way up.

He couldn’t help give the softness of her stomach a kiss too as he rose to see how she was doing, smiling softly when he saw her sleepy eyes regard him with a little smile of her own.

“Tired?” He near whispered, stroking her warm cheeky with his knuckle gently. She shook her head, blinking harshly when it made her vision blurry.

“No, just feel funny,” She said, grabbing onto his wrist to keep his cool hands on her face, “But good funny. I think. Just funny,”

“How many did you have, baby?” He asked, holding onto her hand as she sat up, watching her head tip slightly at the movement, as if he could tell how heavy every part of her felt. He knew the stages of edible high well; he and Keith had been hooked on them in tenth grade, but his sweet girlfriend knew nothing about any of his ‘Magic Brownies’ he sold, and he’d intended to keep it that way until now.

“Two, I think. I think I had a bite of a third and I started feeling weird so I stopped. I thought I just had a lot of chocolate.” She said, head pressed against his shoulder as he led her to the kitchen, “Eddie, my feet are cold,”

“Oh, shit, your socks,” He cursed, heading towards the sofa. “I’ll fix you up, don’t worry honey,” He said, gently helping her sit down, her body all but dead weight.

She murmured something as he pulled away, and he could only give her hand a peck before he was rushing around, grabbing her things that would make her feel better. Fluffy socks to calm her, make her comfy, water for when her mouth got dry, plain tortilla chips for when she started getting hungry while he’d cook her some real food. He all but scowled at the weed confectionary as he passed it, hating the fact he had unknowingly gotten his girlfriend into such a state.

He took barely five minutes before he gently rolled the socks onto her cold feet, throwing himself back down next to her, her head lolling to look up at him through heavy lids.

“We watch Jared now?” She asked, burrowing her face into his shirt.

“We watch Jared now.” He confirmed, chuckling when he felt her try to press herself even further into him, her nose jabbing into his ribs, “What are you doing?”

“Wanna crawl inside your skin, I’m not close enough out here,” She murmured, and Eddie smiled widely down at her, pressing play on the remote.

“I’m gonna pretend that wasn’t mildly creepy, baby,” He said, his arm wrapping around her to keep her close, feeling her melt into his side, “I got you some water for when your mouth goes cottony,”

“Huh?” She said, though her eyes were zeroed in on the screen, his words a jumble in her ears. Nosing her hair line, he chuckled, kissing the tip of her ear and stroking her arm.

“Nothing, just watch your film, honey,” He said, his words a sugary glaze as he looked down at her zombie-like expression.

He had a lot of ass kissing to do in the morning.

PERMANENT TAG LIST:

@greeneyedblondie44 @liadamerondjarin @pedrosgirlx @andy-rocks @musicartmayheminmyheart @howlerwolfmax @ciarra–mae @lou-la-lou

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x sunshine reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie x reader #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader

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thekingofchungus · 2 years

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in other news, holy damn my boyfie gives me heart eyes

#chatbox #box is in love love #okso ykno those. hoodies. theyre segmented diagonally and kinda crop top length so they only cover the chest i thought of him in one and #hnnnnnnnhhnnhk what a pretty boy #im genuinely so lucky like hes so dreamy and so cute and he looks so cool in so many things im mnngnngnnngh #ACK IM GETTING ALL BLUSHY AGAIN #literally hes so handsome 💗💗💗 man of my dreams #him in anything is so hot #god i love my boyfriend #OH THIS IS TO SAY NOTHING OF WHAT HE SHOWED ME THIS MORNING BY THE BY. h

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nerak-01 · 8 months

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TEASER of "Uncle's Play Date" - uncle!konig x college girl!reader (technically nsfw build up)

(this is just a segment. lemme know if i should scrap or write into a fic! reblogs/comments appreciated!) Yes, I am re-blogging an old piece bc it didn't get any attention. Anyway, enjoy~!

tw: age gap, corruption kink, dom!konig, konig being a perv, no actual sex though

You were an awful liar. This was clear as day when you first started forming heart eyes every time your new step dad, Simon, brought along his close co-worker, Konig. Konig. KONIG. You would get tired of hearing the name the second you get tired of seeing him in gray sweats. He was a man with a haughty physique, and a piercing gaze. It gives you the shivers just thinking about it.

That was the past. You were only a freshman in college at that time, but now, you've returned as a junior. You had two years of life experience, dumb parties, and boy troubles. Surely, you would be able to face Uncle Konig with a straight face. That thought went out of your head the second you saw him.

“Sweetheart? Are you spacing out again?” You blinked rapidly before focusing on Konig once more. You most definitely weren’t staring at his open button up. You were blessed with seeing Konig in a tailored suit the second you got home. He had his sleeves rolled up as he dined with you.

While you were too busy overthinking, Konig had taken the time to properly look at you. Without Ghost around, he could finally stare. Your skirt was tiny showing off your distracting thighs as they strained against your mini-skirt. It was so obvious when you would rub your thighs together, you had to know you were putting on a show for him. What a tease. Your tank top was also doing very little to cover you. Konig would be lying if he said he wasn’t glancing at where your chest was. Maybe you didn’t notice, but your face was still beet red, like always. Ghost had warned Konig of your school girl crush on him, and Konig regrettably swore he would try nothing. Pity, you two were alone in the house together for two days.

“I know it might be a little weird being alone with your uncle, but I promise it’ll be fun.” Konig’s expression was a cool smirk, almost like he knew he had an effect on you. In a way, he did know.

“Y-yeah. It’s not that weird.” You didn’t bother making eye contact with him, instead playing with the food on your plate. You felt hot, and the piercing gaze on your body didn’t help one bit. It was like a wolf sizing up a lamb.

“No need to be shy, Princess, I’ll take good care of you.” Konig smiled at your timidness. It was like the innocence was oozing out of you. He could see right through your “grown up” display. Although he had to admit, he much preferred your longer dresses and larger tops. College had made you a little whore, he’d have to fix that, won’t he?

#konig x reader #konig x you #konig smut #cod smut #ghost cod #konig call of duty #cod konig

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katiexpunk · 30 days

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Caller Number Nine | Pairing Javier Peña x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're a radio host of a popular late-night segment on relationships, advice and more. After a particularly bad night of calls, your final call of the night takes you by surprise.

Warnings: Javier is a flirt. Alcohol/marijuana. Humor/Banter. Flirting. References to infidelity and a man's negative view on his wife's postpartum body (the reader puts them both in their place). Both reader and Javier are lonely. New York. Slightly dom Javier. Biting. Javier gives reader a hickey. Murphy the Cat (this cat is DEA). Bodegas and a wholesome shop owner named Carlos. Some Spanish. TUWOMT call back to Paddington 2 but in a Javier AU. Javier calls the reader a slut once (she likes it). Praise kink. Thigh riding. Use of pet names. Just a hot fuck. Creampie. Unprotected sex. Fingering. Pizza on ranch. Dave Portnoy gets mentioned (iykyk). No use of Y/N, no use of daddy. For immersability, the reader has no major physical descriptions.

W/C: ~6K

A/N: Let's just say this story was inspired by the slutty mustache that has made a triumphant return. I’m also just really into pizza with ranch right now, too, idk. If you need me I’ll be internally freaking out about the fact that there are almost 1,400 of you interested in my silly little stories. Thank you. 🥹🖤

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People suck at listening. You used to, too. But over time, call after call, you have become intimately acquainted with the quiet moments—the pauses between heartbeats, the breaths taken before confessions spill forth, the silence that stretches like a canvas waiting for emotions to color it.

These moments, often overlooked in the noise of daily life, are where you find the truth that guides you through the tangled web of love and relationships you navigate every night on your show.

For you, the quiet is not emptiness but a space brimming with potential. It's in these pauses that you listen most intently, not just to the spoken words but to the ones that tremble on the edge of silence, too shy or too scared to make themselves heard. You have learned that what is not said can be just as important as what is, and you can hear those unspoken fears, dreams, and desires.

Each night, as the clock winds down and the world outside your studio window holds its breath, you lean into the quiet, inviting it into your show. You encourage your callers to do the same—to listen to the quiet within themselves, to the truths they've buried under layers of fear, doubt, or societal expectation. "In the silence," you often say, "you'll find the answers you've been too busy to hear."

Most of the time the callers are open to your feedback, their hearts open and kind.

Most of the time.

Tonight isn’t one of those times.

++++

“Have you ever had Brussels sprouts made for you at midnight by a gorgeous woman in no pants following multiple orgasms? I have, and they’re fucking delicious,” one caller said. It was obvious after minutes of talking to him that he was failing to heed your advice that if he didn’t stop sleeping with women who weren’t his wife, she would likely find out one day and leave him. God, you hope she does.

“I love her, you know? I just don’t find myself that physically attracted to her after she had the baby, it’s not my fault…” another said. Ugh, fuck off, dude. You were quick to shut that one down, to tell him that he was being a boy, to go to the store and buy his wife some goddamn flowers and apologize for being such an asshole.

Like a broken record stuck on repeat, this is how the night continues. One bad call after another, each seeming to echo or outdo the last in its what the fuck factor.

In the dimly lit recording studio, a soft hum of equipment fills the air, punctuated only by the occasional flicker of LED lights on the soundboard. You think briefly about letting out a scream before your last call, surely the foam walls would absorb the sound.

The glow of the computer screen casts a soft light on your face, accentuating the furrow of your brow and the downturn of your lips. You're a picture of frustration, a stark contrast to the empathetic persona that your listeners know and rely on. Each bad call tonight has chipped away at you. You drop your head into your hands and rub your temples for a brief moment before looking up at the clock, its hands inching their way to your liberation.

Just one more call.

The phone lines blink red. Your hand, a little steadier than you feel, reaches out and cues up the next caller, your voice finding strength as it always does when you speak into the void.

“Hi there, caller number nine. You’re on the air with Midnight Confessions. What’s on your heart tonight?”

“Ah shit – oh, uh probably shouldn’t say that on air huh – mm, wasn’t expecting to get through,” the man admits, his tone telling you he’s nervous, and probably a little drunk.

“Guess it’s your lucky night then. And it’s a late-night show, you can curse all you want to. What’s your name?” you ask, trying to ease him into the conversation.

There’s a pause, the kind that tells you the caller is weighing his options on whether he should give you his real name or not. Finally, he exhales softly, his mouth close to the receiver, enough for the exhale to cut through the static.

“I’m Javier. And you are?”

“You can call me the voice of the night,” you reply, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, the first genuine one in hours.

“Didn’t realize I called the crime fighters hotline.”

The joke catches you by surprise and you let out a little laugh.

“Can’t say I’ve gotten that one before,” you respond before eventually giving him your real name. “So tell me, Javier, what would you like to talk about tonight?”

There’s another pause, longer this time, before Javier’s voice returns softer, and you can tell the tone is about to shift.

“This is stupid, I shouldn’t have called. I’m sorry for wasting your time tonight ma’am,” he says, and you can tell he’s seconds away from hanging up.

“Javier, wait –” you say, but he doesn’t respond. The line hasn’t disconnected, so you know he’s still there.

“Listen, I don’t know you – and you don’t have to tell me anything – but I can tell from the tone of your voice that it sounds like you’re carrying quite a bit on your shoulders. It’s brave of you to want to open up about it. Sometimes, talking to a stranger is easier than talking to someone you know,” you say, letting the dead air hang heavy for a second, “let me try to help.” You try not to make a habit out of convincing callers to spill their guts, but something about this call, this man, compels you to.

Javier sighs a sound that carries a world of worry. “I don’t even know where to start. My whole life, I’ve defined myself by my job, and without that, I –” his voice starts to crack, and he stops. You hear the clank of an ice cube against glass, and he continues again, “I realize how alone I am, how I don’t have anyone or anything. I feel like the only company I have these days are the ghosts of a past life.”

You don’t have the full context of his confession, but it hits you deeper than expected, echoing a sentiment that's all too familiar. You think about how most of the time, when you’re not working, you’re either turning to dust on the couch or in the company of fictional men you read about in books.

"Javier," you start, your voice softer, threading through the silence with care, "I understand more than you might think. You're not alone. It might feel that way right now, but I promise you’re not,” you say sweetly.

When he doesn’t say anything, you continue, “Losing a part of our identity, especially one that's been a cornerstone of who we are, is like losing our direction. But it's also an opportunity, a chance to rediscover yourself, to find new aspects of your life that give you meaning and joy."

You pause, giving Javier space, letting your words hopefully seep in to provide some comfort.

“What does that mean – that you understand more than I might think?” he asks, not acknowledging the rest of your statement, a curiosity in his voice.

“It means –” you start. Oh god, here we go. You’re not often like this with your callers, but this feels different. The studio, with its blinking lights and the gentle hum of the machinery, suddenly feels more intimate, as if it's just you and Javier at this moment, connecting through the airwaves.

“When I was little, my mother always knew my things, quirks, you know? Things like the fact that I’m scared of heights, that I get cranky if I don’t eat breakfast, and that I only like ranch dressing on pizza and never salad. It’s all trivial, small little details, but from this, I think I learned that being known is to be loved.

You take a deep breath, and let the silence swallow you whole for a moment before continuing.

“When I say I understand more than you might think, I mean that I’m still one of those people who’s waiting for someone to tell me how much I mean to them, still hoping for someone who will know those things about me, too,” you pause.

“Someone who will hold my hand tightly when I’m on a rooftop so I don’t somehow tumble over the edge, someone who will make sure I eat breakfast, even if it’s just a shitty granola bar, someone who will buy the fancy ranch, even if it only gets used on greasy pizza.”

You hear Javier chuckle through the line.

“Something funny?” you ask, a little confused, slightly embarrassed that this call has somehow reversed the roles and you’re the one spilling your confessions over like a broken yolk into his hand.

“No, no – it’s just ranch on pizza, that’s uh, that’s…disgusting,” he admits, a playful tone to his words, the sadness before seems to be gone, but you know his humor is likely just a mask.

“Excuse me, I’ll have you know ranch on pizza is a classic, and quite delicious. Thousands – no millions – of people like ranch on their pizza, it’s not that weird,” you quip.

“Right,” he rasps, “I’ll take your word for it, sweetheart.” You bite your lower lip and try to ignore the heat that’s risen to your cheeks, the little thrill you feel in your stomach from your banter. You’re quickly brought back to reality when you look at the clock and realize your call time is nearing an end.

“Well, Javier, you're my last call of the night and I’m afraid it’s time to wrap the show up. Is there anything else I can help you with before I let you go?”

“No,” he says, his voice a low rasp, thick like honey, “thanks for saying all of that.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” you say, the smile still on your lips like sugar from cotton candy. You slump back into your chair and the line disconnects.

++++

As the clock ticks past one, the studio lights fall to darkness, leaving only a solitary desk lamp to cast long shadows across the room. You loop the familiar weight of your backpack over your shoulder and put on your headphones.

You lock the studio door, and step into the brisk night air — it’s March, technically Spring, but the remnants of Winter are still holding tight. The city's pulse is tangible, even at this late hour, as you navigate your way to the subway. With only the Eagles in your ear to keep you company, you watch as the Graffiti-streaked walls blur past.

Once off the subway, you think about heading straight home to promptly melt into your mattress, but the rumble in your stomach reminds you that you haven’t eaten since lunch.

Might as well go see Murphy. He’s always happy to see you.

You round around the corner and the bodega lights come into view. The ground beneath you is damp and you’re careful not to step into any puddles as you make your way to the shop. You push open the shop door and the familiar chime of a bell alerts Murphy to your presence.

“Hi Murphy,” you coo, crouching closer to the ground so he can rub up against you. “How’s my favorite boy?” You say, scratching his favorite spot under his chin, feeling the comfort of his soft fur and rhythmic purr. If Murphy had it his way, you’d live at the Bodega, ceasing only to exist to give him love.

Your stomach growls again and you rise, “Gonna get some dinner now, okay Murph?” You walk through the tight aisles, grab a can of tuna as you pass by the canned goods, making your way to the frozen section in the back.

Chicken nuggets it is, you silently tell yourself before grabbing the frozen bag and making your way to the register.

"Hola, Carlos. ¿Cómo va tu noche?" (Hi, Carlos. How’s your night going?)

"Oh, hola.” As much as you’d love to practice your Spanish with Carlos, he needs to practice his English more and you’re more than happy to oblige.

"Good to see you. Listened to your show tonight, what a piece of work some of those people were,” he responds, using his index finger to punch numbers on the cash register.

"Tell me about it. How much do I owe you?"

"$7.50. Murphy says thank you for the donation,” he smiles, holding up the canned Tuna, and like clockwork, Murphy jumps up on the counter and starts assaulting the can with his cheek.

“Like he gave me any choice,” you respond, handing over $10. Carlos gives you your change and you give Murphy a few final loving pats on the head.

“¡Hasta mañana!"

"Buenas noches."

Back in the quiet of your apartment, the microwave fights you, its door refusing to stay closed until you jam it shut with a wooden spoon. With dinner finally spinning inside, you sink onto the couch, the night’s weight lifting off your shoulders. You feel yourself nodding off before the sound of the microwave beeping and the rumble of your stomach wake you up.

Dinner done, you smoke a joint, the smoke curling lazily in the lamplight. Your mind goes fuzzy and you stare up at the ceiling, trying to make shapes out of the popcorn on the ceiling. Your mind drifts to the thought of your last caller and you let your mind wander as you imagine what he might be up to tonight. Is he asleep? Or is he staring up at his ceiling, lost in thoughts as you are?

The only thing you know for certain is that you’re both alone tonight. At least there’s some comfort in knowing you’re not the only one.

The city outside continues its restless murmuring, but your mind goes silent as you fall asleep.

++++

You're grateful to have the next night off. Not like you have plans, but at least you don’t have to show face or wash your hair. Even if you did have to go out in public tonight, it wouldn’t matter — that’s the beauty of New York. You could look like a gutter rat and nobody would give a shit. But still, the freedom of an evening without obligations feels like a luxury, a small pocket of time where the demands of the world fade into the background.

Staring at your nearly empty fridge, its emptiness staring back at you, you sigh. Fuck. And then it hits you, unexpected but undeniable, a craving for pizza. Not just any pizza, but a pie from your favorite local spot, where the crust is always perfectly crisp and the cheese melts in a way that feels like a hug for your taste buds.

Stepping out into the evening rain, you make your way to the pizzeria that’s only a block away. The moment you open the door, a warm wave of garlic, tomato, and baked dough envelops you. The line isn’t long, but it gives you enough time to deliberate over your order, though deep down, you know you’ll end up choosing your usual — a Margherita.

You peek up from your phone and notice the man in front of you at the order counter. Broad shoulders strain against the fabric of his shirt, his tight jeans outlining a figure that speaks of strength. Dark hair and tan skin contrast strikingly under the fluorescent lighting. He orders confidently, his voice smooth, almost familiar. As he’s about to cash out, he adds “Can I get a side of ranch too, please?”

“No problem,” the cashier says, a little too happy to oblige his request. She’s flirting, you don’t know her, but you can tell. When the cashier asks for a name for the order, it confirms what you think you already know.

"Javier." The name hangs in the air, a familiar sound that sends a jolt through you.

It couldn’t possibly be.

The words escape your lips before you have a chance to second-guess it.

“I thought ranch on pizza was disgusting.”

He turns to face you and oh. You might have guessed that he was attractive from his voice, but seeing him is something else entirely. He’s strikingly handsome, with a dark mustache trimmed perfectly above his lip, his jaw stark and chiseled. The corners of his lips turn up in a smirk.

“Shit. Caught red-handed by the crime stopper herself,” he says with a wink.

Okay, so he’s handsome and charming. You’re so fucked.

As Javier steps aside, your gaze lingers for a moment longer before you place your own order. You feel his eyes boring into the back of your head as you do.

“No plans tonight?” He asks, and you shake your head.

“Not really, just this. Might swing by to see my boyfriend on my way home,” you say, noticing the way his expression shifts into disappointment, it’s subtle, but it’s there.

“Oh,” Javier says. He thinks for a second that maybe you were lying last night about understanding what it’s like to be alone.

“Yeah, we’ve got a hot date with a can of tuna,” you respond, smiling as you watch his very visibly confused face, the furrow of his brow. You can tell he’s not quite sure how to respond, the words a tangled knot in his brain, or perhaps conjuring up some weird kinky thoughts about what a date with a can of tuna could entail. He’s not sure he wants to know.

“I’m just messing with you,” you laugh. “He’s a bodega cat up the street, I usually swing by every night after work and I’ve developed a soft spot for the little guy. His name’s Murphy.”

“Wait, Murphy? From Carlos’ shop?” Javier asks, and you’re a little surprised.

“You know Carlos?”

“Yeah, yeah — he’s friends with my father. Great guy,” he adds, nodding to the pizzeria worker who hands him his order. You notice the blush on her cheeks when he says thank you.

You watch intently as the other worker packs up yours, placing two to-go containers of ranch on your box.

You grab your pizza and use your free hand to grab one of the containers of ranch and extend it to Javier. “For you,” you smile as you hold it out to him.

“Eat with me?” He asks, grabbing the ranch from your hand, your skin briefly touching.

How could you say no?

You smile and nod, and follow him through the restaurant. He holds the door open for you and places his hand on your lower back as he guides you out. You feel like a schoolgirl with a crush. He’s just being a gentleman, but something about the touch causes something in your core to run hot, a hint of arousal in its warmth.

In typical New York fashion, you find a relatively clean stoop to sit on. With the pizza boxes open on the step in front of you, the steam wafting in the cool night air, you smile at Javier.

“Are you ready to have your world rocked?” You ask, holding the pizza up long enough for the strings of cheese to disconnect from the box. He does the same.

“After you, Cariño.”

Cariño. So he’s a flirt, too.

You dip your slice into the ranch, a perfect amount clinging to the tip, before you bring it to your lips. The anticipation builds with the scent of garlic and herbs wafting up.

You barely pause to savor the moment before you declare, “Some people say the first bite of pizza is the best, but I disagree.” You dunk it back into the ranch and take another, this time bigger than the first, “The second bite is really where it’s at.” Since when did you become Dave Portnoy?

Javier watches with amusement as you delight over your dinner. “Go on now, after you,” you nod, continuing to work on your pizza like a starving dog. You watch as he delicately dunks his pizza into the ranch, and like a baby bird, takes a small bite. You study his expression, a mix of curiosity and amusement, as he carefully chews. His face gives nothing away, a poker face if you ever saw one, until he finally delivers his verdict, “Can’t say it’s my favorite.”

“What?” you gasp, half in disbelief, half in jest. You playfully nudge him, your hand reaching out to liberate the neglected ranch from his box. “Let me save this from your indifference,” you tease, claiming the ranch for your own. The banter feels easy, much like it did when he called in the other night.

“So tell me, Javier,” he stops you “You can call me Javi,” he says.

“Javi,” you smile, picking at a tomato on your second slice. “What made you want to call in the other night?”

He looks at you as you bring the tomato to your mouth, and lets his gaze linger on your lips. You notice.

“That’s a good question. Um,” he says, taking another bite before continuing, his elbows on his thighs, staring out into the street. “Truthfully, I was a little drunk, and a lot alone. I think I just wanted someone to talk to.”

“I get that,” you acknowledge.

“What? You probably talk to dozens of people every day,” he responds, turning to face you this time.

"False. I listen to dozens of people every day, but I don’t really get to talk. At least, not about things that matter, not truly." He gives you a long look, then nods, understanding etched into his features. He doesn’t pry further.

A comfortable silence settles between you as you both work on finishing your pizzas.

"What about you?" you finally break the silence.

"What about me?" he echoes, a hint of curiosity in his tone.

"I spilled my plans for the night, my glamorous date with Murphy. What's on your agenda?" you ask, leaning forward slightly. His tight bicep muscles press up against your arm.

"This," he gestures broadly to the city around you, wrapped in the open night. Then, with a sheepish grin, he adds, "Well, actually, I was planning to go home and watch Paddington 2."

You laugh hard enough to let out a little snort. He looks at you with affectionate eyes, like you’re the cutest thing he’s seen in a while.

“Paddington 2? Like, the bear movie?” you manage between chuckles.

“Yep. I cried through the entire thing the first time I saw it. It made me want to be a better man.”

“I see, well I’ll have to take your word for it, I’ve never seen it.”

"Do you want to come over and watch it?" he proposes, the question hanging in the air. It’s a bold move, especially since you've only just met, but there’s an earnestness in his invitation that makes you pause, considering.

"Only if we can swing by and say hi to Murphy on the way," you quip, bumping your shoulder against his lightly.

“Deal,” he says with a wink.

++++

As the saying goes, you make plans and god laughs.

It's almost as if you could have, perhaps even should have, anticipated this turn of events.

Paddington 2 might as well have been code for want to come over and fuck?

The energy crackling between you two is undeniable, magnetic. His blend of wit, handsomeness, and confident charm weaves an irresistible allure, drawing you in closer with every word, every glance.

It's one of those rare, electric connections that you read about or see in movies, but seldom experience in real life. Yet here it is, unfolding in real-time, a reminder that sometimes the most memorable moments are those you never see coming. You rarely see yourself as the main character, but tonight you feel like one.

In the narrow stairwell, his hips press firmly against yours, your back against the cold wall, arms pinned above your head. His lips find yours with an intensity that leaves no room for hesitation, a crash of desire against desire. You surrender to the moment, tilting your pelvis into his, a plea for more.

The world around you is a blur; it's just the two of you, enveloped in a haze of passion. His hands, desperate and eager, fumble for his keys—a brief interruption in your heated exchange as he struggles to unlock the door without breaking the heat of your gaze, the connection of your lips only momentarily severed. The anticipation builds with each fumbled attempt, heightening the intensity as you eventually enter his apartment and he has you pressed up against the door.

His lips trail from yours down the razor edge of your jaw, the hallow of your throat, over your collarbones, and down the valley of your still-clothed chest. “Javi,” you moan, and he responds with a groan into your chest. He looks up at you through his gorgeous lashes, “Can I take this off, Cariño?”

“Yes, yeah — shit, yes, please.”

He makes quick work of your shirt and assists it over your head, before returning his lips to your soft skin and working to undo your bra at the same time. “God damn” he mumbles under his breath, and you can’t help but feel the warmth rush to your chest and cheeks, “so pretty.”

You can’t even remember the last time you were touched like this, nonetheless kissed. Your skin erupts in goosebumps as he makes his tongue trail over one of your nipples, the other being teased slightly between his fingers. The sensation causes you to tilt your head back in ecstasy and you let out a soft moan. “Oh, yeah? You like it when I do that, baby?” You nod your head in response. “Use your words.”

“Yes, oh god — feels so good.”

“That’s better.”

You bring both of your hands to the waistband of his denim and pull him in closer to you, close enough to feel his hard cock, desperate to be touched. He brings his hands to grip your hair, baring your throat to him. He forces your legs apart with his knee, shoving it against your core. You begin to slowly grind on the denim.

“Want more?”

“Fuck, yes — ” you whimper with another grind against him. He kisses you again, one hand tightly gripping your hip and the other wrapped in your hair. You cling to him, arms wrapped around his middle until you drop them to find his belt buckle. His lips find yours once more, and he sucks the bottom one into his mouth before biting it and letting go.

He steps back, and you work to remove the rest of your clothing and shoes. You shimmy your pants over your thighs, taking your underwear with you. He thought you were beautiful from the moment he turned around and saw you, but seeing you standing in front of him, chest heaving, bare and perfect just for him, is another story. He slides his pants and underwear off in one go, kicking them off the side along with his boots.

He only gives you a moment to admire his form, cock hard and thick, the tip of it red and weeping, before he surges forward and kisses you with new passion. He licks the seam of your lips before forcing it open with his tongue, swallowing every one of your moans like they’re a gift just for him.

When you both can’t breathe, he pulls back and peppers kiss down your neck once more before he sucks a hickey into your neck, eliciting a breathy moan from you. He smirks against your skin and moves to the expanse of your shoulder, finding a new spot to bite and suck.

He forces his thigh between yours again, pushing the expanse of it right up against your bare pussy. You moan and cling to him, once again riding his thigh. “You gonna come on my thigh, baby?” He questions against your skin, feeling your shoulders shudder from his breath ghosting along your neck. He tightens his grip on your waist and rocks you forward, “Use me. Want to feel you soak me,” he hums, kissing your neck. You’re lost in the haze of your arousal, chasing the friction you so desperately need.

“Answer me, Cariño.”

“Y-yes.” You breathe, tightening your grip on him. You grind against him more, faster, harder. “Want it so bad.” And fuck, you do, you need it so bad but you’re not sure you can get there from just this.

“What do you want, beautiful?” He questions with another bite to your skin. “Do you want to come on my thigh like the good little slut I know you are?” You whine at the filth of his words, the warmth of his praise causing your belly to tighten. He tightens his grip on your hips and guides you faster on his leg, his fingers digging into your skin, hard enough you hope you bruise.

“Show me how pretty you are when you come, Cariño — make a mess of me,” Your body seizes up and you throw your head back and let out a guttural moan. The spot where your pussy rests against his thigh gets wetter. When you tilt your head back up, his eyes are what throws you over the edge. He holds your gaze as he watches you come for him, on him, because of him. “Fuck, that was gorgeous,” he moans, holding you steady as you come down from your orgasm.

“Bed. Now,” he demands, guiding you through the hall and to his bedroom.

You fall back onto the bed, your back hitting the mattress with a small oof, your breasts bouncing with the movement. He holds his heavy cock in hand by the base as he gently strokes himself, and watches as you part your legs wide open for him and finger yourself.

He continues to work himself while staring at your tight, slick hole, dripping just for him. His eyes go impossibly dark as he watches your fingers saw in and out, you’re really quite the sight.

“Shit, Cariño. Look at your little pussy,” his voice in between a whine and a whimper, as he steps forward between your legs and begins to position himself at your entrance. One hand on your knee, the other holding himself, he presses the head of his cock into you, making you moan, his tip alone is a stretch you’re unfamiliar with — it’s intense but good.

He’s not trying to taunt you, not really. “Just wanna make sure you’re nice and ready to take this fat cock,” he says, pressing just the mushroom head in and out of you. The slow drag of it is excruciating, enough for you to let out a plea of please fuck me. “Look so good like this, baby. Can feel you sucking me in, she wants it bad, doesn’t she?”

You nod, “More, Javi. Need to feel you inside of me, please,” you plead, holding your thighs behind your knees, spreading yourself wider for him, giving him full access to your cunt.

“Yeah, okay,” he says, thrusting the full length of him into you, and ohhhhmyfuck.

Your pussy walls flutter and tighten around him, and he lets out a wrecked groan. He draws his hips back and slams that back into you with enough thrust that your tits bounce. His thrusts are hard, but slow, giving you time to adjust to his size. He’s quick to pick up the pace, causing you to sob in pleasure, broken moans leaving your lips as he knocks the wind out of you with each snap of his hips.

He draws himself nearly out, his cock glistening with your slick, and he grabs both of your hips to hold you steady as he fucks into you. “Look at the mess we’re making together, Cariño. So fucking beautiful, you’re taking this cock so well.” You’re starting to realize that he’s a smooth talker both in and out of bed.

You wail as he picks up his speed, panting and grunting, groaning as he watches the thin skin of your pussy stretch around his girth. He releases one of his hands from your hips and brings the pad of his thumb to the swollen clit between your folds, and begins to rub tight circles.

“So tight, baby, little cunt’s trying to make me come, isn’t she?” He groans, his pace slowly slightly, his stomach muscles tightening and his jaw clenched shut.

“Want you to, want you to fill this hole up with all of your come. Want to feel you drip out of me, need to feel you.” Your words spur him on more, and he continues working your clit, his cock thrusting in and out of you, “oh god, please, please, please.” You’re not usually one to beg, but something about him has it pouring out of you.

“Yeah? Want me to fill you up, baby? I will if you come with me,” he says, an intensity, an urgency behind his voice. You’re so close, you think you’ll be able to come with him, but before you have the chance to get there, you watch as he squeezes his eyes shut to try and collect himself, but he’s too close, nearly over the edge of his orgasm. His cock starts to swell and his movements get a little sloppy.

“Come in me, Javi. Want to feel you,” you moan, your voice a seductive whisper, and that does it.

His hips stutter, “Fuck, Cariño,” he groans, his voice a wreck, as he buries himself to the hilt inside of you and starts to throb ropes of his warm spend in you. There’s so much that it spills out of you and down your asscheek.

“Oh such a messy, pretty pussy,” he groans, admiring the way your cunt looks stuffed full of him, the glisten of your release and his on his cock, “Milking me so good.”

“Gonna make you come for me again beautiful,” he says, cock still spearing you, throbbing and pulsing as he collects some of his spend on his fingers and brings it to the needy button between your legs. It doesn’t take much to get you there, and within seconds you’re on the brink of your orgasm.

The warmth that pools in your belly grows and radiates through your limbs until your whole body feels tingly and your vision goes white.

“Oh my god, Javi, I’m coming,” you wail, a blubbering mess of pleasure, until you’re drowning in the sea of your orgasm.

“Can feel you squeezing me, sweet girl,” he groans, both out of pleasure and a little bit of over-stimulation on his already spent cock, “So. Fucking. Pretty. Such a good girl,” he says as he works you through the last of your orgasm. After you come down from your high, he gently pulls out of you, and a little trail of his come follows and spills out onto the sheets below.

“Jesus, Javi. That was something else,” you say, blissed out and thoroughly fucked. You nestle up into his chest like it’s easy, it comes naturally, a movement you don’t even question. He wraps his arm around you and plants a soft kiss on the top of your head in response.

“Can I say something?” He asks, and you look up at him a little worried. Waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“I’d buy the fancy ranch for you.”

END

If you like this, please consider a reblog. <3

Trying a thing where I don't use a tag list to see how it goes. To be notified when I post fics, follow @katiexpunkupdates

END A/N: the line she gives Javier in response to knowing what he means in the first part of the fic is adapted from a poem. I wrote it down, but forgot to name the author. So credit to the author, whoever it is.

#javier peña #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena smut #javier pena narcos #javier pena fanfiction #pedrohub #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #pedrostories #narcos smut #the slutty little mustache has returned

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littlemisskookie · 9 months

Text

Crocodile Tears: Intro

Crocodile Tears: Index Ship: Stoner!Reader | Stoner!BTS Description: You accidentally eat brownies with aphrodisiacs in them. Even worse one of your asshole friends catch you reading smut to cope, and decides to airdrop your collection of your dirtiest fantasies to the rest of the house. Just your luck. Warnings: Dub-Con, Degradation, Humiliation, Dom!BTS, Sub!Reader, Weed (sorry it’s what helps get me in the mood to write these), Dirty Talk, Kink Shaming?, mentions of the reader being into kind of dark/taboo kinks, Jimin is incredibly mean for no reason, Reader is ridiculously horny and is good at weed Word Count: 2,397 A/N: This has now been edited and finalized which means I can get started on the first segment!

You coughed, smoke erupting from between your lips. You feel Jungkook's large hand offering a comforting (arousing) pat on your back, rubbing gently to comfort you out of your coughing fit. Damn, why'd you have to get horny when you were smoking weed? It didn't help that you were surrounded by perhaps the hottest guys on campus. Who would've thought that befriending fellow stoner, Hoseok, over a blunt in a party would lead to introducing you to his other stoner friends? Before you knew it, you guys would hang out regularly, bonding over a bong.

Today wasn't supposed to be any different from those days. You had smoked with these seven plenty of times before. Most of the time it was in Yoongi's studio apartment, practically hot boxing the small space.

Today though you guys were lucky. Namjoon's rich parents were going to be gone on a cruise for two weeks. You guys could smoke carefree in a nice ass mansion and not have to worry about the smell, as Namjoon assured you the maids would take care of it. (They much preferred Namjoon to his parents despite the weed smell assistances, probably because he's so charming. You didn't blame them. Namjoon had that old money charm, the type that would make you not hesitate to do whatever he asked.)

You guys brought bongs, edible gummies, baked goods, weed, pipes, snacks, water bottles, pens and carts- anything a proper stoner hangout would need.

Part of the reason the guys adored you so much was because you had the highest tolerance of any girl they ever met, which was very contradictory to first glance. You could outsmoke any man you met, and could brag you had never greened out despite the amount of weed you'd smoke once challenged. You could simply keep going, you were a beast, this was your talent. You were proud to say you had outsmoked each and every man in this room, earning their respect and the privilege of joining their smoking group. You weren't going to argue. You've never gotten so much free weed and attention from hot guys in your life. You were used to the attention it would bring you now for the most part. Cute girl who smokes weed? It's stoner boy kryptonite, basically your super power.

Except against one. There was one guy that definitely wasn't the most respectful to you, treating you like he barely even liked you, but for some reason you didn't find yourself minding. You don't think you'd mind it from any of these guys, but as it was, your stoner powers gave you a leg up on these guys. Most of them wouldn't dare think about disrespecting a deity like you.

That didn't mean you didn't have your moments of coughing, though. Usually you were better and holding it down nowadays, but it was a bigger hit than you were anticipating.

Jungkook pulled the bong back, face in front of yours to examine your expression. "You ok?" he asked. You look up at him, eyes locking. He's got that hooded eyes, hazy look in the eye that looked so similar to "fuck me" eyes. You didn't want to assume, though. Too many times guys told you it looked like you were giving them fuck me eyes when in reality out were simply stoned.

"I'm good," you assured, trying not to think about how good his lip ring looked. Shit, you were probably staring at it right now. You quickly turn away, feeling flushed, reaching for the plate of brownies you had pulled from the kitchen. "God, I'm having insane cravings right now, though!"

"Wait, Y/N, where'd you get those brownies?" Jin inquired, squinting down at your plate.

"In the kitchen. Namjoon said I could help myself to whatever food's there." You paused after scarfing down another bite. "Oh no, do these have more weed in them? I mean I think I'll be fine, but shit."

Jin's mouth dropped open. "Uh, no... not weed."

Your brows furrowed as you stared back at him. "What is it, then? Did you put fentanyl in brownies, Jin?!"

"God, no! Not fentanyl... aphrodisiacs," Jin sheepishly admitted.

"What the fuck, man, why'd you bring sex brownies to the party?" Yoongi laughed. "Trying to start an orgy or something?"

"No! Me and Y/N were just joking about it last time we hung out and were talking about those chocolates on tik tok that make you horny. She was like what if we all took one and saw what happened? I decided to make some myself and brought them. I didn't know Y/N was going to end up eating half of them herself!" Jin explained hurriedly, eyes glancing to you quickly for help.

"So you were trying to start an orgy!" Yoongi accused.

You bursted out laughing. "Well, that explains a lot. At least I can't overdose on aphrodisiacs. Teaches me not to let my munchies get the best of me." You turn to Jungkook, biting your lip at the sight of him. These sex brownies were really doing something to you. You're all giggly, though, from the weed. "Munch. Munchies. Do you think munches get munchies?"

"Y/N definitely seems high enough," Namjoon laughs. "Sorry you're just going to be stuck with the brownies... effects. You sure you'll be ok?"

You wave your hand dismissively. "I'll be fineeee. I'm basically horny most of the time anyways, this will be no different."

"TMI," Hoseok jokes, rolling his eyes.

You were fine.

For all of, like, ten minutes.

Once an hour had passed, you were practically wanting to jump out of your skin. You found your mind wandering off, you were biting your lips far more often than usual, your eyes weren't just blazed stupor, but full on fuck me eyes. You found yourself staring intently at your guy friends. Jimin's thick lips wrapping around a blunt, letting smoke pour out. The way he was staring back at you, almost suspicious. God, he'd probably be disgusted if we knew what sort of thoughts you were having about him. He always acted a bit disgusted by you. You eyes flitted away to his best friend next to him. Taehyung's hands gripping around the bong, elegant fingers wrapping around it, veins tracing along the middle. You wondered if he'd choke you if you asked. Wait stop. You try to keep your high mind from wandering off to dirty places and focus on what's in front of you. Jungkook's tattooed fingers as he rolled up a joint for you, doing so with such delicacy and precision. He was so careful, and was definitely the best at rolling. You sucked at it, and were grateful that Jungkook's attentive personality made him volunteer to be your personal roller. Without thinking, you bring your fingers up to your mouth, chewing on your thumbnail as you stare at Jungkook with a certain intensity.

It was Taehyung who spoke to you first. "Y/N, you good? You looking kinda zoned out, there."

You snapped out of it, hand flying away from your mouth. "Huh? Oh, sorry, I was just thinking."

"Your joint's done," Jungkook said, tatted hand offering it up to you.

"Thank you, Kookie," you grin, tussling his hair in front of you. Fuck, you wanted to grip it while his head was between your legs. You reach back, clearing your throat. "It's kind of hot in here, actually. I think I'll go to the balcony."

You hope they don't read too much into your need of absence, but who were you kidding. You were obvious.

You leaned against the railing of the balcony, enjoying the fresh air. You lit up the joint and inhale the smoke, opening your phone to distract yourself. With smut. Hey, horny brain has a one track mind? You pull up your fanfiction recommendation blog, mainly used to store your favorites and save for later, for times like these. You scroll past the stories, each depraved tag and recollection of the smut's materials not seeming like enough.

You clicked on the third story, entrenched in the words as you try to imagine the scene before you. The weed made your mind hazy. You didn't know how much time you had spent out here reading porn. The joint was already halfway finished.

You didn’t even notice the balcony door being open and shut behind you, finding yourself too engrossed in the words on your screen. Perhaps if you were sober, you’d have felt his presence behind you, eyes peering over your shoulder.

"What's sex pollen?"

You practically jumped out of your skin, squealing at the feeling of hot air against your ear. You spun around, lower back soon pressed against the railing as your space was invaded, to see Jimin, his red tinged eyes meeting yours. The one man here not impressed with your surprisingly high tolerance. Maybe because he of all people knew about deceiving appearances. He leaned in closer, far closer to you than he had ever been in the time you’ve spent with him and his friends. His chest was a mere few inches in front of yours, hands clasped against the railing beside yours, trapping you. The aphrodisiacs weren’t helping you, and you were feeling a certain type of way about having a handsome man so close to you.

"Jimin! What're you doing here?" Your heart pounded erratically in your chest, the anxiety overwhelming you at being caught.

"You've been out here for a while, the guys were getting worried about you," Jimin explained. A devious smirk formed on his lips. "Guess I should explain to them you're fine, just out here basically reading porn."

"I-I'm not-"

"Oh? What's sex pollen, then?" Jimin grabbed your phone, your reflexes too slow to stop him. He wore a shit eating grin as he watched your eyes flit between your phone and his face, unable to even process the beginning of your defeat. You were completely defenseless and stunned, not sure how to understand how he had beaten you so swiftly, or why he was particularly smug about it. You don't think he's ever smiled at you before, whether out of kindness or humor. This smile lacked both. This was a grin of enjoyment at the sight of you fussing and at his mercy. "Explain, Y/N."

You gulped. "I-It's just this like… trope.”

“Trope?” His thumb slides up the screen, the sentences scrolling by. “Seems pretty scandalous compared to your typical romance tropes. I don’t think I’ve heard of this one, before.”

“It’s more of a fanfiction trope than an actual literature trope…”

“Oh? How’s it work, then? What’s so appealing about it?” Jimin’s amused expression was in stark juxtaposition to your flushed, embarrassed one.

“U-Um… it’s w-when the person gets affected by this pollen or something in general that makes them all... needy. And they need someone to take care of it for them."

“Take care of it how?”

You huffed, irritated with his teasing. “What do you think? You already know. It’s called sex pollen for a reason, quit teasing me.”

"Oh?" Jimin quirked up a brow, obviously pleased with your embarrassment and stammering. His hand came up to your throat, and there was a hitch in your breath. "But it’s so fun.”

“No it’s n-not-“ It was hard to keep your sentences structured well as Jimin tilted your head back, hand sliding further up to your jaw, making you lean back. Adrenaline pumped through you has your anxieties increased, all to aware of you dangling halfway off the railing at this height.

“This trope of yours sounds very familiar. Taking aphrodisiacs, familiar.” His chuckle was taunting in your ear, his soft breath noticeable in the night air. “Hoping for something to happen, Y/N?”

"No, I-"

"Did you do it on purpose, sweetheart? Wanted one of us to take care of you? Put you out of your mercy and fuck you cause you need it so badly?"

You gasped at his words, his hand gripping your jaw, forcing you to look at him. Your back was still arched against the railing, and both of your hands clasped around Jimin's arm for support, afraid of both falling back and falling into him. His muscles felt so firm underneath your fingertips , and you tried not to think about how much you had missed the feeling of digits on your throat. Jimin's eyes flit over to your screen, going back to scroll through the stories you saved. He could probably feel your heartbeat against his fingerprints quicken as he delved deeper into your trove of dark and twisted fantasies. "Fuck, this is some really nasty shit, Y/N. You're into some depraved shit. Alpha/Omega? CNC? Step-siblings? Always knew you were a pervert. Bet you've thought about us gang banging you before, huh?"

His canines gleam in the dim light, taunting you. Your wide eyes met his with terror, and you whimpered in his hold.

"Fuck, Jimin, please please please don't tell them-" you pleaded.

"But how can I keep this to myself?" In horror, you watched his devious fingers tap against your phone screen, airdropping your blog of fanfiction collections to the rest of the house. He let you go, allowing you to catch your breath as he backed away from you. Fishing out his own phone, he accepted the request. He waved your own screen in front of your face, taunting you with your own powerlessness. You grab it from him, staring in horror as you see that three people accepted the airdrop. Fuck. It wasn't like you could even pretend it wasn't you, your name was attatched. The worst part is you didn't even know who accepted it, the names only being "iPhone".

You stared up at Jimin in horror, only to see his sadistic grin as he scrolls through your personal porn stash. "Don't worry, I'll make all your dirty fantasies come true," Jimin chuckled. "I’ll be a bit busy for now, though. Have to catch up on some light reading. Besides,” he turned towards the door, looking back to you with devious excitement. “You’re a big girl, I’ll let you take care of this by yourself.”

He left you alone on that balcony, gawking and trembling, wondering just what would happen if you were to step back in that house.

#bts smut #jungkook smut #Jimin smut #taehyung smut #v smut #bts fanfiction #bts #bang tan #jungkook fanfiction #Jimin fanfiction #taehyung fanfiction #Yoongi smut #Namjoon smut #suga smut #Agust d #rm smut #Jin smut #Seokjin smut

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andy-wm · 6 months

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I have thoughts about the Watch with Jimin livestream...

How do i love thee? Let me count the ways...

I did in fact do some counting. I counted Jimin's blink rate during the almost two minutes he watched JK recording the back-up vocals for Letter to Army. And yes, it was a labour of love, especially since I don't enjoy numbers... they're tricksy squirmy little gremlins that do sneaky things like divide themslves in two, or become imaginary.

But for the sake of science and Jikookery, I counted how many times - and when - Jimin blinked during this sequence.

Overall, nothing unusual to report. The average number of times a person blinks in a minute is approximately 15. In the 1m55s of video I captured, Jimin blinked 33 times. Unremarkable.

Except...

The pattern of how much he blinked changed markedly depending on who was on screen.

When Jmin was watching himself, he blinked far more than when he was watching JK. Frequent blinking can be a sign of stress, and there were a number of other clues too, that Jimin wasn't all that comfortable watching himself: giggling, hiding his face, selfconsciously flicking his hair, playing with his hands etc etc.

When JK was on screen Jimin sat still, his gaze fixed on JK. Often his mouth fell open just a little, his lips parted as though he was entranced. In fact, during the first 20 seconds of the footage when he's leaning forward staring intently at JK, he only blinks 4 times.

And that's a clue to another factor at play here...

There's a phenomenon in the psychology of attraction called a COPULATORY GAZE. When someone stares intently at a person they find attractive, that's what it's called.

It's a COPULATORY GAZE.

So it's not just a minor fascination he has going on, or a bit of focused admiration.

Translated to the coloquial, I guess you could call it EYE FUCKING.

Yes, eye fucking is a scientific phenomenon.

But wait, there's more...

Towards the end of this segment of Watch With Jimin, when JK is done recording and he and Jimin are on screen together, something happens to our dear Jiminie on the livestream.

It involves a bit of eye fucking and lip licking (licking, tongue movement, swallowing, all necessary to deal with the saliva that accumulates in your mouth when you're aroused.) Yes, it seems our boy has a visceral response watching the doco, particularly when JK plays around with him on screen.

JK says he's going to feature in Jimin's concert, and he then moves towards Jimin and says (you can't make this stuff up istg) "I will do this behind you." Right, he's just talking about singing the back up vocals.

Jimin is absolutely transfixed though. He swallows with some difficulty. His chest is visibly rising and falling. He's breathing hard and I'm sure that's not all.

Now realistically we've seen them flirt and tease each other so many times that what they're doing in that studio isn't even worth mentioning. And we know Jimin pushes JK's buttons on screen far more than this, apparently just for fun. So why is this little te-ta-te getting Jimin all hot and bothered (because there's no question, that is what's happening).

There's only one thing i can think of.

It's because he's watching it on screen.

I cannot think of ANY other reason that this lukewarm bit of playfulness would make him literally breathless.

And ya know, because i'm a dirty boy with a wild imagination, this leads me to think of all those times they've flirted onscreen...

Does Jimin go home and watch Bangtan TV clips and get all shook up?

Is he bookmarking all the YT complilations of him and JK doing questionable things, and using them for his own nefarious purposes?

I don't even want to think about the footage that gets deleted, the stuff that's too risque to put in a Bangtan Bomb. I picture Jimin scooping it up off the cutting room floor and stuffing down his shirt to smuggle home.

And what about all the on-stage shenanigans at concerts? Kitty Gang Jimin comes to mind immediately.

Does he search for fancams - from LY Hong Kong maybe - and use them to cam his fan in the privacy of his bedroom?

Ok, I've reached that invisble line.... I'm going to stop RIGHT HERE.

You can decide for yourselves whether our mochi has a lil bit of an exhibitionist streak - whether the thought of doing questionable things in public with his buff boytoy revs his engine.

I'll leave you with this nugget of barely suppressed lust, and I'm not just talking about the goings-on on stage. The whole vibe of this concert is feral. I am forever sorry to have missed this one...

(The two women in the bottom right corner are amost as entertaining as the boys imo... pretty sure one of them drops their army bomb haha...)

#jeon jungguk #park jimin #jikook #kookmin #국민 #jungkook #true love #copulatory gaze #kitty gang jimin #Letter to Army #Jungkook vocals #watch with jimin #jimin documentary #jimin weverse live

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roo-bastmoon · 11 months

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IN-DEPTH ANALYSIS OF THE CULT'S DYNAMICS

Disclaimers: Sensitive topics are discussed below the cut; please do not incite drama, speak hate, or engage in bullying. I am not a mental health professional; I make no claims of expertise (in anything). This is a collection of my thoughts about what is currently happening on the Taekook side of ARMY, in the hopes that it may help us as a community respond more effectively to the toxic parts of our fandom. If you click below this cut, you are assuming responsibility for your own behavior and agreeing to engage with my blog respectfully, or you will be blocked.

THE NARRATIVES AT WORK

I submit that shipping Taekook is both an evolving conspiracy theory and a living cult.

There are various narratives within this subgroup, but in general, to ship Taekook, one must believe Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook are in a closeted gay romantic relationship.

One also likely believes that their company (both BigHit and Hybe) and everyone around them have always actively hid their gay relationship.

Initially, Taekook (the “real” gay couple) was being hidden by Jikook (the “fake” gay couple) because Jikook was somehow more popular in Korea and therefore considered to be more profitable.

And this was the main narrative for years. It got Jimin dragged and hated online and in real life, to the point there was even a credible shooting threat at a concert.

Now, the narrative is being modified in light of the video footage revealed this week involving Taehyung and Jennie.

If Taekookers accept at all that Jennie and Tae were indeed photographed holding hands in Paris this week, then they likely believe both their companies are using this as a PR Relationship stunt to hide their real gay relationships before military service and comeback projects.

This belief includes:

1) assuming Taehyung and Jennie are not being honest;

2) believing Taehyung and Jungkook have no agency or power within their own companies; and,

3) all of their members and managers are also in on this nefarious plot.

Whether they believe Taennie is just cosplayers in an orchestrated smear campaign, or two actual idols in a PR Relationship, regardless, a large segment of this subgroup still believe that Jimin is the company favorite who gets special treatment.

Therefore, things that should be Taekook’s (such as songs and subunits and couple-like interactions) are instead given to the company’s king of fan service, to the point where Jimin “assaults” Jungkook with “unwanted” attention and physical contact.

THE LOGICAL FALLACIES

As amazingly popular as our Korean It Boy is, I have serious doubts about Jimin being the “company favorite” ever since Hybe took over two years ago.

As the “company favorite,” I’d love it if he got more lines in group songs, or was allowed to film as many music videos as he wanted, or could be given more than 10 days of promotion time for a project he spent a year working on. It would be stellar if the “company favorite” had in-ears that worked correctly during live broadcasts, or was invited onto IU’s show, or could host streaming parties or sell exclusive merch. To say nothing of the “company favorite” getting far more reality show appearances and magazine interviews and a Disney documentary with behind the scenes footage! Heck, I’d settle for his songs not being split on Spotify, his views not being culled on YouTube, and maybe just one congratulatory statement to the press or even just a CAKE celebrating his historic Hot 100 #1.

At least Jimin was “allowed” to include a hidden track with Jungkook (that wasn’t advertised or available to stream, so not fan service) and he was allowed to queer code his Like Crazy music video. So I believe he has some agency and say over his projects. I’m not sure he’s entirely understood or appreciated by his company—frankly, I think his potential was underestimated—but I don’t claim he’s a victim. Victim narratives play into cult dynamics.

But I digressed. I was talking about logical fallacies.

Let’s entertain the idea that for more YEARS, Jungkook and Taehyung have been horribly abused by their management and forced to hide their relationship.

They never thought to address this issue when they were renewing their contracts?

Also, what’s up with all the footage during RUN episodes when they are standing together, or on the same team, or hugging and cuddling, or leaning their heads on each other’s shoulders and legs?

Why were they allowed to flirt and dance and do skinship on stage—and all that stuff even made it into official footage?

Now let’s entertain the idea that Taennie is a PR Relationship.

So… two rival companies, just coming out of a bitter failed deal around a music industry monopoly, are now working together to make people believe Jennie and Tae are dating?

Even though idols LOSE popularity and company stocks take a DIVE when couples are revealed?

So Taennie is the strategy to promote solo albums and upcoming projects?? And both companies’ PR teams say “We can’t confirm it as it is their personal lives.” So no PR statement is the PR strategy??

We know it’s bullshit. It makes about as much sense as Hillary Clinton running a child sex trafficking ring out of the basement of a pizza parlor that doesn't have a basement.

But many in the cult believe it’s Absolute Truth.

The question is why?

The answer is in the dynamics at play here.

CULT DYNAMICS

It starts with a MISINFORMATION CAMPAIGN.

Baby ARMY get curious about BTS, hop on YouTube or TikTok, and are bombarded by the algorithm that claims Taekook is real.

Unless they go searching for original content (which takes up dozens and dozens of hours to sift through and much of which sits behind a paywall), they will not have much to contradict these claims.

Most older ARMY are understandably so sick and tired of the ship discourse that they don’t go into Taekook spaces and duke it out in the comments. Plus, content creators know that Taekook content gets hits and likes, which translates into passive income, so they keep making it.

See this video where a cult leader shows you she made over $109,000 in a year just from her Taekook edits:

So in the din of all this nonsense and noise, it’s up to Baby ARMY to seek out other voices, other input, to form an opinion. They have to be proactive. And sadly, a large segment of the population lacks critical thinking skills and do not WANT to seek facts.

We live in a very busy, post-fact world, where “credible messengers” (i.e., someone you know and trust) tell you their opinions. Then you try those opinions on for size, and they eventually become your opinions. It’s faster, it’s easier, and…

It lets you be part of the IN-GROUP. Next thing you know, you're part of a group chat with 400 indoctrinated members, spitting conspiracies like gospel truths.

In today’s globalized, fast-paced, hyper digital world, most people cannot tell you the names of their neighbors or local butcher or even their state’s politicians, let alone what all they stand for. But they can tell you how the Kardashians feel about organic salad in a plastic bowl, or what Trump believes about election results.

There’s a lack of real-world relationships that tether people to a shared reality.

And yet, there is a human need for Tribe.

A cult uses that instinct for TRIBE by constantly re-enforcing the notion that People Out There don’t understand, aren’t very nice, will even persecute you for knowing the truth.

But People In Here, the IN-GROUP, they appreciate you, they are reasonable and open-minded, they will be there for you when everyone else turns their backs on you and puts you down.

All you have to do to belong to the IN-GROUP is subscribe to these CONSPIRACY THEORIES.

First, you should think about becoming Anti-Establishment.

You cannot trust the Authority (company, government, scientists, whatever). The Authority is corrupt and will lie to you because it wants something from you (money, votes, microchips in the vaccines, whatever).

Do not trust what your eyes show you and what your ears hear. Believe your in-group. Be loyal to your found family. Your found family is SPECIAL.

Second, you need to begin to wake up to the Signs and Wonders.

Once you’re willing to see the truth, suddenly there are all these hints. All these little “Q-drops” of information. Like Taekook touching face moles during a song. Or seeing slowed-down, edited videos of facial expressions that look like evidence of jealousy. Or maybe hidden meanings behind tattoos of tigers and green mics. Or making a secret handshake or symbol with their fingers. These Signs and Wonders are FOR YOU.

*Now, I’m inclined to give Taekookers a bit of a break on queer couple coding because, culturally speaking, similar clothing and jewelry are couple-coded in Korea. And there are just as many if not MORE theories about Jikook using similar black and white clothing, matching jewelry, related tattoos, using special numbers in songs and timestamps, and even changing up lyrics as secret messages.

The issue here is that Jikook ACTUALLY DOES SOME OF THOSE THINGS. They actually deliberately type out specific numbers on some of their social media messages. They actually have dressed in the exact same outfits or worn each other’s clothes. They actually have changed up lyrics and sung them to each other.

Even so, any reasonable Jikooker will say “all of this is suspicious as hell, but not proof.” Like when Jungkook says his J tattoo stands for Jungkook—the placement over the M is suspicious, yes—but all sane Jikookers accept that Jungkook has spoken about that tattoo and he did not say it was for Jimin. We don't sit around calling Jungkook a liar just because we preferred our theory.

Taekookers, however, want what Jikook have so badly, even as they scorn it for merely being fan service.

Half the time the hints they claim are completely made up.

They see sandal footprints in the sand, and their leaders say it’s proof that Jungkook went on a secret beach date with Taehyung. Even though Taehyung went out with a friend and his parents that night.

Taekookers will see a photo of shoes all neatly lined up and say it’s a secret ski date with Hobi. Even though Jimin owns the exact same pair of shoes and there were no photos or accounts of them ever being at a ski lodge the day after Jin went into service.

Taekookers will swear they hear Jungkook’s voice off camera during Taehyung’s vlog and insist he was hiding in the trunk of the car during the drive to film. As if JK would hide in the trunk for hours instead of just… go in a different car that didn't have a camera??

All of these Signs and Wonders require a huge leap to arrive at the conclusion that Taekook is a romantic couple.

Meanwhile, evidence of Jikook spending birthdays together and couple holidays together and going on trips alone together and having integrated families and inner circles (stylists, tattoo artist, boxing coach) are ALL fan service. Every single person is in on the conspiracy.

Yes, even when JK’s mom screams “I love you!” to Jimin and makes her son eat seaweed soup on Jimin’s birthday, (JK was clearly FORCED to make up that story) it has to be fan service.

And when Jimin’s dad posts a photo of JK’s old dog on JK’s birthday (a birthday where Jimin visited him in the middle of working on his album, but Taehyung did not even though he wasn't working on anything), it's fan service. And when Mr. Park hosts a give-away event at his café where JK’s music is playing and cap and photo are proudly displayed next to JImin? Absolute fan service; he’s a money-hungry, attention-hungry cad, don’t you know? Even the charity he and his son do are fan service!

But JK went bowling with Wooga, so, Taekook are married. (Legally married. Not in Korea. But you know. They ARE married. Coming up on their third anniversary already!)

It’s all there, if you’re just willing to see the Signs and Wonders. And believe your cult leaders when there's nothing to see or wonder about at all.

Third and perhaps most important, is the Star-Crossed Lovers angle. The VICTIM CARD.

You see, it’s not bad enough that openly gay couples face pure hell in conservative countries anyway—losing their jobs, their families, sometimes their will to live because the stigma can be so bad. But on top of all that, for years and years, Taekook have been forced apart.

They’ve been just tortured by Jimin’s attention-whoring greedy nature, and made to endure fabricated fan service skinship!

(When Tae and JK look happy to be around Jimin, it’s just because they are professionals and such good actors!). Darn that Park Jimin, the abuser and sexual predator!!

And after so long being forced to hide, now in solo era, poor abused victimized Taekook can be loud. So loud. So very loud and wild and free!!

After all, during the Vegas concert, Jungkook sat on Taehyung’s lap!! He's NEVER sat on any other BTS members' lap (except for all of them).

And when Jungkook came online and said “Keep being jealous, I’ll keep holding Jiminie!” and that Jimin was HIS! Then fans kept asking him about Taehyung, so he also said Taehyung was his. It was totally his own organic idea (except for how it wasn't).

When fans kept pestering Jungkook during his camping VLive about Taehyung, he said he was forced to admit that Taehyung was attractive, he’d never seen a man so attractive! (FORCED to admit it! So romantic!)

Meanwhile, as all this shakes down, there’s this scandal in the press that Jimin didn’t pay his insurance premiums because his mail was omitted by the company. News of this dropped EXACTLY the moment his first OST With You came out, and he went totally quiet.

And then, Jungkook also went quiet for a while too. He deleted all his previous Insta photos that were personal and changed the layout to be totally professional. He went to the White House. He did a collab. He partied for JitB. He went on a Meat Tour of Korea. He did a concert with his members. He headlined World Cup. But mostly he was getting quieter and quieter.

Eventually Jungkook deleted the app entirely. Sometimes he stayed in his home for six days at a time. He stopped working out or going into Hybe; he started drinking whiskey. And nowadays he doesn’t even want to look at the comments on lives. Not because he was sick of the Taekookers or anything, but because “the company is forcing them to hide!”

Of course.

And all throughout 2022, Taehyung and Jungkook are paired up for things, and Tae's talking about a fortune teller saying he and Jungkook were “fire and water.” And rather than be taken as cute moments between friends, these are just VERY LOUD SIGNS AND WONDERS.

Then there are leaks online of all these photos that involved Tae and Jennie.

And thus begins tons of lives where he mentions Jungkook.

I'm not saying Kim Taehyung had an agenda to throw fans off the scent of his actual relationship, but I'm also not NOT saying that.

Whatever his motivations, the cult interpreted this as a direct message for Taekookers to keep the faith!

And indeed, Taekook do hang out—sometimes openly. (Sometimes where there’s press that make them hold up signs while cameras are going off—but that’s not for work, that’s a date, because the security team there wasn’t Hybe’s, and it was a friend’s premiere.) Sometimes quietly, where they share photos of hanging out afterwards.

But it cannot be just two friends hanging out. It’s Signs and Wonders!! SO LOUD!! SO FREE!!

So many reveals—mostly coming from Taehyung, but Jungkook doesn’t often deny them. And it’s mostly Taehyung stroking Jungkook’s hair or laying his head on Jungkook’s thigh or whatever—but Jungkook doesn’t stop him. And Jimin seems totally unbothered by all of it, which is strange because it sort of debunks years of his efforts at fan service.

Yet, clearly THIS cannot be fan service or misdirection.

It can’t just be friends playing games, or a TikTok made for work. It can’t be recording someone without their informed consent for attention. It can’t be going to a concert with other members and sitting in separate rows as friends. Or going to a musical or movie to support friends. Unlike all the things Jungkook has done with Jimin, this has to be Real Love!!

So just to recap:

When the cult had no evidence of Taekook hanging out, they were a private couple.

When the cult had ever-increasing evidence of Taekook hanging out, they were being loud.

When the cult had evidence that Jikook hang out outside of work, that was just fan service.

When the cult had no evidence that Jikook hang out outside of work, that was just fan service getting exposed.

When the cult has evidence that Taehyung has a girlfriend, that’s a punishment.

MARTYRDOM

You see, Jungkook and Taehyung would go on WeLives without permission, remember? And Taehyung set up a dual live chat on Insta and JK didn't seem that into it but he was persuaded. Then they giggled and couldn’t find much to talk about for ten minutes. And Taehyung said he would take full responsibility for it.

And the cult now believes that “taking responsibility” means pretending to be in a heterosexual relationship. Even their insider sasaeng accounts predicted it!

Never mind how mad all of this seems. And it would be one thing if just one or two ideas were far-fetched, like looking at a pair of shoes and making assumptions. But all of it is far-fetched.

Facts do not matter. Because you cannot trust the Authority. You can only trust the In-Group.

And the In-Group sees Signs and Wonders. So the In-Group knows the Real Truth.

The In-Group DECIDES TOGETHER what is real.

They can make entirely fake edits; cosplay; post false witness statements; harass models, coworkers, brands, businesses… they can hire trucks to circle the building with loud speakers, protesting and shouting their truth!!

And anyone who doesn’t believe the Real Truth is a Fake Taekooker.

No disbelievers allowed. Get out of the tribe. Only the faithful can stay in the Tribe.

Right now, you might be asking yourself: Why would you stay in a tribe like this??

Because the dynamic is ever-evolving, which is titillating, and participants get a sense of power, because they are able to help craft the narratives—by being so smart as to see the truth where others are blind sheep—so they can bond over how unique they are.

Plus… TAEKOOK NEEDS THEM.

The boys absolutely depend on their support. You see, Taekookers are the real HEROES here.

They understand the boys like normal people never could. If you know you know, and they are steadfast against any and all lies presented as evidence. They are loyal.

The whole world is against their baby bear and baby bunny!! They are the boys Only Defense. Just take a look at this video of their rallying cry:

If you've got martyrs, you've also got... CRUSADERS.

Yikes, right?

So, here are millions of fans who were lied to, misled, misinformed… They developed relationships over time with people who also believe this misinformation… They get a sense of power in crafting their own reality, in which the objects of their affection are victims and they are the heroes… And the only way to prove themselves worthy of the group is to stalwartly ignore anything that contradicts these narratives.

This is a literal, textbook cult.

Cults use deception, isolation, peer pressure, group-think, and suppression of critical thought. To varying degrees, all Taekook spaces do this too. (And yes, other ships and solos and mantis ALSO rely on these tactics. But I've never seen anything quite so open or pervasive in ARMY like the Taekook cult tactics.)

I feel I should make one thing should be made clear: a LOT of people sincerely believe in Taekook.

But there are also a lot of Taekook content creators who sincerely believe in the money they make off people believing in Taekook.

Like all cults, at the end of the day, it's a scam.

Now there’s evidence of a real relationship, and of course anyone who has invested time and money in Taekook is going to be pushing back—hard.

So how do we navigate this chaos?

Well, most cults end in one of two ways: an FBI raid, or everyone drinks the Kool-Aid and dies.

But more often than not, cults don’t really end so much as fizzle out over years.

Plenty of cults are still alive and well despite amble debunking (Scientology, Q-Anon, Illuminati, flat-Earthers, Larries—what they believe doesn’t really matter; it’s how they believe that makes them a cult.)

Cults are a bit like hydras—you cut off one head, three stronger ones pop back up.

They won't stop. They have to BE STOPPED.

HOW TO DEPROGRAM A CULT

Well, back in the 70s, in the early days of deprogramming, the only thing that was effective was to separate the individual from access to the cult (by kidnapping if you had to), then bombard them non-stop with facts (using imprisonment or restraints if you had to) and eventually they are coerced into re-integration. But none of that is humane or legal by today’s standards.

It also leads to relapses.

Really the only way to deprogram cult conditioning is for a mental health professional to slowly and methodically discredit the cult leader(s) and gently present contradictions.

(How can Jungkook really be in a relationship with Taehyung if he’s always mentioning Jimin? How can Jimin be hurting Taehyung and yet they are on FaceTime for hours, trading fan art and watching tv shows? Why would the two most rich and famous pop stars in the world need a publicity stunt?)

And even then, the cult member has to be sort of able to question things for themselves, and it just helps to have other supportive people echoing their own questioning sentiments back to them.

It can take YEARS until a cult member reaches the breaking point and begins to listen to Out-Group ideas. (On average, five years, to be exact.)

And then they may begin a journey of self-expression, where they openly voice doubts or complaints against cult narratives. They may even engage in transference, jumping off the Taekook ship and onto another (the need for tribe is very real). This is an extremely vulnerable stage and should not be taken advantage of.

At this critical moment when someone is tittering on the fence, trying to figure out what reality is, you need to REWARD THE BEHAVIOR YOU WANT.

You want them to question. You want them to express their grief and doubts. You want them to look for real sources of information.

This is NOT the time to kick someone when they are down, or look for “gotcha” moments to shame them publicly.

If you see a Taekooker wondering if they’ve been lied to this whole time—they HAVE. And that is abuse. And abuse victims need to be handled with care.

I know that Taekookers have dragged Jimin to hell and back for years so I’m not about to preach love and acceptance.

But it’s also fair to say that Taekookers have been gas-lit and realizing that can be traumatic.

Wounded animals are dangerous. A traumatized human lashes out. And you know who the prime target always is. They are already starting to take it to Jimin directly.

I strongly recommend you take a very cautious approach if you engage with them right now. Especially if you’re thinking about arguing with them.

People who defend Jimin or Jikook end up doxxed, suspended, harassed--and someday, I fear a wounded cult member will get physically violent.

Be especially careful because plenty of big accounts are closeted Taekookers. Here's a thread exposing some "mystery cult" members:

THE MOST EFFECTIVE RESPONSE

I normally don’t try to police people or preach too much, but I’m going to give you some unsolicited advice if you managed to read all this:

Don’t go into Taekook tags or spaces. Don’t debate them. Don’t talk trash about them or the members. Don’t slam-dunk or spike the ball with snarky words or memes. Don’t give them a taste of their own medicine. Don’t be cruel.

First of all, don’t do any of that because Jimin and Jungkook would be mortified by it.

But second of all, don’t do it because it just makes them dig in harder; it adds weeks or months to the deprogramming timeline.

The goal is to get the cult out of ARMY fandom. Because they thrive on a victim/hero complex, attacking them reinforces cult dynamics.

I believe there is a better approach.

First, you can and should go Gray Rock whenever possible.

Starve them of oxygen. Don’t acknowledge them. If you do, be generic in your responses—boringly bland, detachedly polite. Ignore them completely; their hot takes do not matter.

Block and report if warranted, but never engage. On some level, they really want to be persecuted for their beliefs. It's why they keep coming into Jikook spaces looking for a fight.

But their beliefs are so ridiculous that they aren’t worth our time. Instead, direct your focus on what you want, which is to promote and celebrate Bangtan.

Second, you can provide what’s called a Graceful Exit.

It doesn’t always work if they know that’s what you’re doing, but it is perhaps the most effective technique, especially if they are already questioning the cult narrative.

You see, a shamed human being gets defensive, doubles down, won’t listen. But a human being offered a Graceful Exit Out of a Bad Place gets to reinvent themselves in a way that allows them some dignity while they change direction.

A Graceful Exit has a few components to it:

“Hello, Taekooker. I also saw a lot of misleading content when I was a baby ARMY. The algorithm feeds you Taekook content almost immediately. Then you make online friends, and they all believe in Taekook. Suddenly everyone is telling you really complicated theories about how Taekook is being hidden. Once you believe that, you have to also believe that Taekook are lying by omission, that Jimin and the members are also lying, that the company executives and translators and managers and staff are all lying, that Korean ARMY is lying, that fellow I-ARMY is lying… and that’s a lot of people spreading a lie for no real gain. Now that you have some evidence that Tae is happily in a relationship with someone else, it’s only natural to question your beliefs, because YES, Taehyung and Jungkook absolutely love each other. But are they IN love? NO. For my part, I trust Taehyung. I love and support Taehyung. I don’t spread the idea that he or Jungkook engage in fake relationships. If you support them, then you’ll accept what they are showing you. When you’re ready to stop shipping Taekook, ARMY will be ready to welcome you back. We can stream together and vote together and help our boys achieve their dreams. We can watch their content and go to concerts together and enjoy fan-works. But what we can’t do is make up really complex stories around BTS’ reality. Our place as fans is to appreciate their music, and let them live their own lives in their own way. It’s time to let go of old ideas, and embrace the new things they share with us.”

This tactic allows the cult member to feel sympathy for being human. It provides understanding that they’ve been deceived. It appeals to their higher nature and love for the objects of their affection. And reassures them they could have a place in a bigger tribe if they let go of the in-group.

It invites them in, instead of calls them out.

Now, you guys might not be willing to do that. Especially considering the hate trains and rape jokes and death threats they gave Jimin for years. Believe me, I get it. I GET IT.

So if you see someone spewing vitriol, now is not the time to call them in. Now is the time to block and report.

However, if I take out my anger on them, it’s serving my own feelings.

And I’m here to serve Jimin, Jungkook, and BTS, not my own need to be right.

So I believe the best way to do that is to Gray Rock the Die-hards and provide a Graceful Exit for the Questioners.

Many cult members are not going to believe in Taennie unless Kim Taehyung makes an announcement directly--and even then, he’ll have to do it in such an emphatic way that they buy what he sells.

So we should accept that the cult is going to be around for a long, long time. Conserve your energy, my dears.

But for the ones who just got fooled but don't intend any harm, we can either hope they let go of their own volition, or we can try to make room for them as part of true ARMY.

What we shouldn’t do is get down in the mud and start slinging. Everyone loses ground that way.

THIS WAS THE LONGEST EVER POST; I AM SORRY!

But these have been my thoughts over the last few days. I’m okay if you want to comment, but I would like to ask that you DO NOT reblog to tag Taekook and that you don’t weaponize this post by spreading it around specifically where it could cause drama.

Drama is the exact opposite of my intention.

My desire is to provide some better understanding around how cults work and how to disband them.

In conclusion: Keep it classy. Ignore assholes. Be gentle with people recovering from gas-lighting. Stay true to the principles of BTS and ARMY. Apobangpo.

Love, Roo

#jimin #jungkook #jikook

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yuri-is-online · 2 months

Note

Hey, remember the soulmate au by tiyoin(?) I recently read your post abt idia and Leona reacting to yuu being their mates, but I wanna take it a step further since I saw idias line abt the family curse (this has yandere implications so if it's not your cup of tea please feel free to just ignore, nothing is outright mentioned tho)

What if yuu has a family curse similar to the aishi family in yandere simulator? (It's been years since I touched the game so if the lore changed I'm basing it off of 2018 ish lore, just with my own twist) basically yes, yuu CAN feel emotions, they're just muted and barely there. Given the right conditions (like falling in love or spending time with friends) and/or antidepressants they'll basically be like any other person, without them it's like a less severe version of the aishi women pre-falling in love

So, afab ppl born in yuus family, once falling in love, start losing their sanities and adopt yandere like behavior (stalking, increasing rage and jealousy, willingness to murder, etc) unfortunately this means they usually die young (20s or 30s) how quickly/young they die is based on their willpower (resisting the urges) and when/if they fall in love (so someone falling in love for the first time in their 40s and having insane willpower, caving in 20 years later in their 60s has more luck than a 16 year old falling in love and caving in almost immediately). Unfortunately everyone is a carrier, men carry the gene and can pass it to their daughters, but it only presents in the women/afab ppl, so transfems won't be affected but transmascs will.

What if yuu fell in love already (in their own world) and has just been doing a really REALLY good job at Resisting The Urges™️. Like, sometimes they slip up and cave in to anger or get ridiculously jealous, but they try their hardest to tamp down the feelings. Yuu has sworn off falling in love (again) and has given up their dream of having a big family bc of the curse, they're even distancing themselves from their object of affection in an attempt to "be normal again" at the cost of their own sanity.

So yuu gets transported to twst, and without their darling, they have the chance to be normal again, assuming they can get past the initial panic frenzy. Then the soul bond is revealed and they just go "nope. Not this shit again" and spouts cryptic messages about a family curse and swearing off love. I'm pretty sure most of the boys would feel a bit hurt by that lmao

This is mostly made for idia since his segment is what sparked the idea in the first place, but which characters from most to least likely do you think would try to pursue mc and figure out the truth to leave them alone and try to move on? I personally can't see someone like kalim giving up on both but I think the octatrio would try to look for the truth but be 50/50 on pursuing yuu or dropping them like a hot potato. Idia I think would try to relate to yuu and try to pursue them, but I think he'd probably be a bit put off once yuu starts dropping hints about the curse (he's a weeb so it won't take long for him and maybe Ortho to put 2+2 together and figure out the curse)

tiyon's soulmate au can be found here, their first post inspired some asks, which led to my own soulbound au the rules of which can be found here. Please support tiyon and interact with their soulmate au! They're a very creative blog and deserve the attention~ give them some reblogs!

so. uh. I got this ask when I first woke up and 1) very happy to hear from you Rose, always lovely to get a new ask and 2) yandere? sim? has lore? I did not think people actually played the game? help. i've fallen and misplaced my life alert. As a rule I don't really write for a Yuu who is just x character from y game/anime (it is in my rules) so while I was at work realizing I might be old I was trying to think of a way to do this that wasn't just yan sim (I wanted something properly gn) and I think I've got something? I am currently beating away the desire to info dump on you about the myth of Sigurd and Brunhilde (i could scream about that for hours oh god oh please i have written an actual au for that but efkjbekjrgbjrthnytrh) So here is the basic idea:

Yuu ran afoul of a witch in their world and was appropriately cursed. Given the myth I was inspired by I don't think Yuu did anything bad, but they still made the witch mad so they got cursed to lose all reason should they ever fall in love.

"You will be thine own destruction!" Cackles the witch and Yuu, who is actually normal unlike trey this person takes a deep breath and resigns themselves to researching a way to minimize the effects and maybe break it? They don't know they thought magic was fake until they thought they were just doing a favor for someone but turns out they pissed off Baba fucking Yaga.

They start to isolate themselves since they notice the curse starting to eat at them when they are around anyone the love; they consider going back to the witch and asking for further clarification but they can't seem to find them anywhere so they take some deep breaths and do their best to just be normal.

When they end up in Twisted Wonderland, and start feeling... weird. And it only gets worse when Crowley speculates that they might have been brought to Twisted Wonderland because they posses a soulbond.

And Yuu immediately freaks out because they don't want to kill anyone.

Now as for your question for who would try to pursue Yuu vs just leave them... well I don't really like writing un reciprocated feelings so I hesitate to say any of the cast would drop Yuu. In my au it isn't possible for soulbonds to not be reciprocated, and they are already sort of seen as a curse by mages so this... complication might not be normal but it isn't unexpected if that makes sense. Which would probably make Yuu swearing off love hurt even worse.

Kalim wouldn't want to abandon Yuu. Not ever, no matter how much of a danger they could be to him. Hell, he's willing to forgive people who are trying to poison him on the off chance they might regret it. But he is the heir of House Al-Asim, and I could see his dad paying someone to take Yuu out to keep his son safe. Something Jamil sees coming from a mile away and has to just keep quiet about. Something I can see Jamil feeling bad about, he might not like Kalim but you didn't ask for anything that happened to you. And yet the Asim's took your life from you anyway.

Have to disagree about the octatrio just a bit. Floyd would be into this. And so would Jade. But especially Floyd, oh hee hee ha ha his soul mate wants to kill him? Say less he is on his way to get his ass eat beat with an engagement ring in hand. Both he and Jade would be a little disappointed when the curse is broken and you aren't actively trying to kill him anymore... maybe you could try and poison him huh? Like old times?

I wrote 20 paper pages of soulbond au stuff for Azul so I will try to be brief here but... I don't think this situation would be one that made him try to break the bond. He has... complicated feelings about soulbonds already. If anything I could see him thinking he deserves this.

Now Idia. He's complicated. Pre-overblot he has given up on the concept of breaking his own curse, and I could see him feeling the same way about yours. Ortho on the other hand... even before he gets his soul he wants to help. After the overblot I can see Idia pursuing Yuu determined to find the truth and save them. Not that he wouldn't interact with them before that, he's a bit nihilistic so I can see him just making a bunch of jokes about the situation or promising to let Yuu kill him "after this next round." Or just straight up asking them to when he has to hit pity in one of his gachas. It's just cringe enough that it snaps Yuu out of the curse fog for long enough for the two of them to be normal around each other. And by normal I mean incredibly awkward

Anyway that's all I've got. Thank you for the ask ♡

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #soulbound au #no clue what to call this version of ayuu uh #tw yandere #yandere twst #bonus idea: there was a magicless version of the twst boy in Yuu's world they had been dating and ended up killing due to the curse before #they realized what the witch meant #so yuu already knows that said boy is their soulmate they've held his heart in their hands before #literally c:

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voiceofsword · 1 year

Photo

many thoughts about rinne working multiple jobs to get niki his first t dose (and all t doses after that)

more about hc under the cut

i think rinne knows from the get-go that niki's trans; when niki takes him in and everything, niki doesn't really have to tell him. niki obviously makes it known that he's a boy and doesn't make a big deal out of being trans but def feels a bit weird about his body developing at all since his it’s around that age that he begins going through puberty. he would already id as a boy by the time his family is doing their cooking show segments but it’s probably at the point where he’s so young his gender is pretty ambiguous anyway. we don’t know for sure if his parents leave right before hot limit flashbacks or even earlier but i think they’re just very disconnected from how niki feels about himself and probably still see him as that child.

niki doesn’t go out of his way to voice concerns or any possible dysphoria he might experience, either; he doesn’t ask for help because that seems like too much trouble and his parents are already sending him money for food, isn't that enough? niki’s parents wouldn’t be particularly Unsupportive but they're obviously not there With Him or providing money for the T so i think they are just misinformed.

rinne gets good at reading niki pretty early on so to him it's obvious something is up..they dislike him being an idol far more than him being a guy. i like thinking about young rinne busting his ass w part time jobs to get food for them but as he starts making more he surprises niki with like. first dose of t from underground means, and from then onwards it becomes routine for them to do his t-shot together — a year or two into them living together. rinne probably has more experience with gender/identity stuff on account of it being implied that his hometown is far more accepting of gay marriage than the city, but he obviously doesn’t have knowledge of modern medicine so, when he says he spent a lot of time at libraries learning about modern society, i’d like to think he also spent time looking into how he could help niki feel more comfortable with himself.

and to this day i think they still do niki’s shots together bc idk its very intimate. and they've both gotten used to it and although they don't struggle to juggle food and the hormones anymore it's still smth they look forward to

#enstars #niki shiina #rinne amagi #mine #mimthinks

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gosmigenergy · 3 months

Text

WAKE UP CALL

( Will ‘Ironhead’ Miller x F!Reader )

Summary: Will invited you on one of his work trips but when you wake up early and can’t get back to sleep, you find a perfect use of your time.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Hand job, no use of Y/N.

Word Count: 1.5k

You didn’t know how long you’d been awake.

It surprised you when you roused, knowing that you and Will were definitely still up at midnight after managing to commander the motel’s hot tub, the couple of other patrons nowhere to be seen.

He still slept peacefully beside you and you hated him for it.

When you opened your eyes, the room was dark and gradually the colour shifted to a shade of blue as the sun began to rise. You tried to find ways of entertaining yourself, your phone was charging on the opposite side of the room and you refused leave the warm cocoon of the bed. Stretching over to your bedside table, you found the remote yet the television showed nothing other than those weird shopping segments and kids cartoons.

So you switched it off and tried to go back to sleep.

Except you couldn’t.

You hear every noise from outside, the birds in the trees, that couple that have checked out so ridiculously early you can only question why. Then you try to reposition yourself, rolling left and right, tangling yourself into the sheets before sticking a leg out into the cool air. Finally, you just accept it, lay on your back and open your eyes, making shapes as you gazed at the whipped cream plastered ceiling.

It took a while for the sun to come through the slit of the curtains.

Sighing, your head lulled to the side.

The orange ray cut along the carpet and crept up the bed before perfectly framing Will’s profile like he’d fallen straight from heaven. His short hair was fluffy around the edges from last night’s escapades, his bottom lip peeking underneath his lightening whiskers. The fragment of light captured every sharp angle from his square jaw to the tip of his nose, his eyelashes casting the softest of shadows.

“Bunny…”

You blinked in disbelief, his mouth barely moved.

“I can feel you staring.”

“Sorry,” your voice was meek.

“Go back to sleep.”

“I tried.”

“Then put on the tv.”

“There’s nothing on.”

He grunted gently, already letting sleep take him.

If he was looking at you, he’d see the faint pout and doe eyed expression but it didn’t last when he lazily threw an arm up, gesturing you to come. Smiling, you crawl to his open chest and entangle your limbs around him, tucking one leg between his. Placing your head on his shoulder, he folds his arm over your back, his hand drawing down your arm until your fingers met.

This was a better time than ever to truly take him in.

You bring his hand millimetres from your face, take note of the length of the lines and try to remember their meanings. His fingers twitch as you drag a single fingertip over the central crease before you press your palm to his and assess the size difference. You cradle his wrist in both hands following the firm muscles in his arm to inspect the eagle tattoo that decorates it.

You were happy to see him using balm you got him, one produced with honey that made the ink shine as if it was freshly done.

Draping his arm over your stomach, you roll further into his body and nuzzle into the crook of his neck, the hairs on his jawline scratching your forehead. Breathing him in, you can smell his natural scent, the one you can never quite describe. Your hand comes to his chest, rising and falling with the rhythm of his breathing.

Stretching your arm out, you graze his shoulder on the opposite side before following his collar bone. You leisurely stroke down the middle and circle round to trace the lightly formed six pack of his torso.

That’s when you feel the change of texture.

When it came to the boys and their scars, you never questioned them but this one on Will always surprised you. For a man who has been on the field as many times as him, he hasn’t got a scratch on him which means whatever happened here underneath your fingertips was… you never liked to think.

You continued to rub his chest until you heard the sigh slip past his lips.

It was the only encouragement you needed to go lower.

You brushed over the hairs underneath his navel before swooping from one hip to the other, fingertips skimming over his well defined ‘v’. His flaccid cock grows, swelling in anticipation of your touch but you make him wait, teasing the inside of his thigh. Cupping his balls, you gently massage them, a ragged breath escaping him as he becomes fully erect.

Your legs wrapped tighter around his as you softly roll your hips, the heat building in your belly and pooling in between your folds with the friction.

With a delicate touch, you stroke his cock to the tip, coating your fingertips with his precum before you start to play. You focus on there, it’s heat scorching through your skin as you circle up and down it’s domed shape.

His heartbeat was quickening, the sounds of his increasing breaths clear in your ears, the bob of his Adam’s Apple as he swallowed.

Mentally, he was cursing you.

The offer of his embrace was meant to send you back to sleep, maybe he should have completely engulfed you, pinned you into position so you had no other choice. Though how could he complain?

All his other trips out of state were so similar, they blurred into one. Guided tours around bases that all had the same square foot, matching tables and chairs, everything clean to the point the room looks untouched. Offers to hang out with new recruits, to spend time talking to vets, to go for drinks. Dinner alone, settling into yet another white walled motel room with thin curtains and itchy sheets, his own hand his only company.

Your hand was much better.

Taking your hand away briefly, you lick the palm with your saliva before returning it back to his cock. His heavy weight jerks, the muscles of his abdomen straining as he stops himself from cumming there and then.

You pick your head up a little, glancing at his scrunched expression and noticing how he hadn’t opened his eyes because you both knew if he did, he was fucking screwed. Returning to his shoulder, you press a kiss to his skin before starting to pump him unhurriedly.

His body relaxes as he allows the pleasure to take over, each new movement of your hand spreading that initial warmth throughout. It brought a pink hue to his cheeks, sent a gravelled moan to his mouth from deep within, buried his fingers into the flesh of your stomach. The energy you once had in your hips dies out and you lay still with nothing but your hand moving, picking up the pace.

This wasn’t about the two of you reaching your release, it was solely about him.

His arm around your frame moves, his hand coming from your shoulder, moving the angle of your wrist. He chases the sensation, raising his hips and closes in on you, his cock now pressed in the middle of your stomachs.

The temperature between you was stifling, made even more paramount when he tucked your face under his chin. Sweat clung to his chest, his breath hot as it fell over your shoulder causing the hairs to stand up on the back of your neck.

You pulled your focus to the head of his cock, flattening your palm against the top, rubbing as you slithered your other hand from underneath you. Contorting your body, you reach for his balls and squeeze before kneading him. He shuddered, the spark travelling up his spine yet he refused to cum. You begin to jerk his length again, other hand still on his balls and turn up the tempo.

The air hisses through his gritted teeth then he groans.

Your tongue flicks over your lips, glossing them with moisture and he can see them behind his eyelids as you bring them to his ear.

“Cum for me, baby.”

Hot seed shots over your stomach and smothers your hand as he finds his release, his body going rigid. The hold he has around your frame grows tighter, the honeyed moan loud over the squelching as more of his cum paints your skin.

You sigh as your slick palm falls from his hard cock, the grip on his balls loosening.

He takes his time to catch his breath, chest heaving, when you feel him slowly unravel himself from you. Rolling onto his back, his expression softens, the smile on his face forcing the dimple into his cheek.

“I have to say, that’s the best wake up call I’ve ever had.”

Finally, he opens his eyes, glancing at his coated abdomen, a smear where your hand came into contact. Then he looked at you as you inspected the mess he’d made over your body, drops of creamy liquid landing on your breasts.

You fix your gaze to his as you consider a retort but then you see how those baby blues almost sparkle under heavy lids and one never comes.

#triple frontier #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier smut #triple frontier x reader #will ironhead miller #will miller x reader #will miller x you #smut #valentines fic

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thesupreme316 · 9 months

Note

hi i don’t request stuff so bare with me how would aew boys react to you having a big return like Kris Statlander ex: you lost your title and left and you come back and win the title again sorry if this makes no sense i’m not good at requesting 🫶🏼😢

yall gotta stop apologizing for being CREATIVE CUTIES

AEW Stars React to: You Returning and Winning Your Title Back (Fem!Reader)

Pairings: Hook x Fem!Reader, Ricky Starks X Fem!Reader, Dante Martin X Fem!Reader, Darius Martin X Fem!Reader, Eddie Kingston X Fem!Reader, MJF X Fem!Reader, Christian Cage X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.1K

Supreme Speaks: thank you to anon for requesting (yall keep em coming), sorry that this took me so long (shit happening). But please enjoy this and p.s you are loved and appreciated

Warnings: not proofread, my regular react wrestlers, GIFS AINT MINE

Taglist: @hooks-martin @wwenhlimagines @sheinthatfandom @hookerforhook @triscillal @cassiesworldsworld @eddie-kingstons-wifey

Backstory:

Either you were injured and surrendered your title (you never lost it technically) or you lost it in a fluke to your opponent (just do whatcha want)

For months you spent away from the company, trying to gain your strength and feeling back

But now, you were back and better than ever

And you were owed a rematch

Right when the so-called champion called out for an open challenge, you were the first to answer that call that night

To your surprise, the whole arena rose to their feet and loudly cheered you on when hearing your theme (ex. Kris Statlander and or AJ Lee)

And after the match was over, you stood tall with your title high above your head again as the crowd again screamed loudly

(Or you can skip this and have a great segment like Trent with Sue’s van)

The entire moment/match went viral

However, they weren’t the only ones happy to see you tho

Hook

Mans had no idea that you were here

Was stunned into silence; with a big ass smile on his face

You were picked up into a hug by him; would definitely whisper sweet things into your ear or skin

“I’m so happy to see you back”

I think this will encourage him to try to win back his title quicker

Hook is the type of person (whether you're his best friend or girlfriend) to take this return personally as it is a start of a new era for you

Wants to celebrate with you in private ;)

HE WOULD ALSO WEAR YOUR MERCH TO SHOW HIS SUPPORT

Ricky Starks

OOOOOO THIS MAN IS SO COCKY RIGHT NOW

I also think he would be that person who would almost spoil your return out of excitement

You thought he was arrogant after he won the Owen Hart tournament? PUH-LA-ESE

Would reference you in his promos

“I’m a part of the winning team. I mean have you seen my hot ass champion of a girlfriend (or best friend; whatever you prefer)?”

Would book a photoshoot just for you to show off your championships

Defs would make you guys match in outfits and would get you in a storyline with him

I def see you as his manager/valet (IMAGINE THE (eventual) HEEL HEAT)

You two would take over AEW as the new IT couple or duo

Darius Martin

Tbh, it gives him kind of a nostalgic feeling when he returned during the tag team battle royal

He would be so incredibly happy for you

Would keep up with all your appearances and matches afterward

“I am the president of the Y/N protection squad *poses with lads*”

Genuinely hopes that everything goes well for you

Will do your signature move to show his support for you

Also, expect a celebratory dinner or movie night

But don’t get it twisted this man is mad at you for not telling him about your return

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME? I was just joking when I was gonna carry the cutout of you to the ring”

He was in fact not kidding (he was just a lil goofy)

Dante Martin

THE BABY

With him on the shelf, he is emotional for you

“That was amazing! The crowd really went wild for you!”

Has multiple emotions tbh; happy, anxious, a little sad

Wishes he could really celebrate with you

I also think because of the fact he has been out of action for a while, he’s dreaming of a return like yours; especially with a championship in his mind

I think he would be a little sad because you’re gonna be busy as hell

“I’m gonna miss the off days with just us two.”

To which you promised to drag him all around to wherever you were wrestling

He didn’t have a choice

Eddie Kingston

“THATS RIGHT DAWG!! YALL SEE THIS SHIT?”

Makes a post about you on Instagram

He’s genuinely happy about the two of you being champions at the same time

Will brag to everyone backstage

“YOU SEE THAT BRYAN? I HAVE FRIENDS THAT ARE CHAMPIONS, SORRY YOU CAN’T SAY THE SAME!”

Eddie, just like how I always say, is a very emotional person (even though he doesn’t wanna show it)

But he will make sure that you know how proud he is; even if he gives you a shoulder tackle

I also think Eddie sees every win as a win for the whole crew

Like Darius, he is upset that you didn’t tell him about your return but it made him excited about wrestling again

MJF

THIS MOTHERFUCKER PART 496792466

Would make a backhanded compliment about you

“Although it wasn’t as epic or spontaneous or memorable as my return last year, congrats to Y/N Y/L/N for making her return to the ring! BAY BAY”

After some choice words, he updates his Twitter again

“I reviewed my tweet after Y/N confronted me (with dice, a wooden spoon, and a lighter) I realize that I made some errors. I meant CONGRATULATIONS TO THE WONDERFUL AND ABOVE AVERAGE GENERATIONAL TALENT Y/N Y/L/N!”

Will ask you to shout him out occasionally (imagine having a friendship like him and Adam Cole)

No but for real, he’s happy for you

I think this man would shower you with gifts in private so you can fully get the MJF experience

Will bring you up in interviews; especially about people he can kind of give props to (his words not mine)

Christian Cage

THIS MAN IS MY SUGAR DADDY AND-

I feel like this man would be very proud of you

Would not dare hold your championship as you threaten him about that

But he would announce himself with your title in the same sentence (ex below)

“I AM THE TNT CHAMPION AND I am the significant other/best friend of the AEW Women’s Champion! Therefore, you all should respect me!”

Definitely would tell Luchasaurus to protect you as well

Loves how confident you became since winning

Also remember how I said he’s a sugar daddy?

Mans would buy you anything just for holding the championship at one point it almost becomes an accessory

Even if you didn’t have a championship, Christian would splurge on you just because

YOU DESERVE IT BIATCH

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watermelonsugacry · 1 year

Note

wondering if request are still open for since 2010 series if so I have to wonder if bandmate!yn and harry ever had some more risky or slightly steamy moment together on stage during one direction days. Like maybe when they all sitting together and yn sits right next to harry and discretely puts her hand on his neck to pull his hair while he’s singing?

Ok so whenever this would happen, 8 out of 10 times it would be Harry initiating it bc we all know how touchy-feely he is. And there are honestly too many moments like this of the two of them to keep track of but here are a few of them!

On the band’s last tour, Liam, Niall and Louis are all having a chat on stage about how much of a good audience everyone has been and pointing out some funny signs that caught their attention.

But what fans are really focused on is the other two band members off to the side of the stage.

Harry stands so close to YN that his chest is practically pressing into her shoulder, leaning down to talk into her ear from all the noise around them. He then points to a sign somewhere among the crowd. Fans watch as her face turns confused, her lip scrunching up as she can't see what he's seeing.

Harry puts a large hand on the back of her neck, talking against the skin of her ear as he extends his arm to fully point out the mysterious sign. The fans in the stands are shaking as they record the intimate-looking behavior of their favorite shipped duo. Even more so when YN finally puts a hand above her eyes to block the blinding stage lights and her shoulders are moving as she laughs, finally spotting the sign that reads: 1D you make me Horan-y.

As she goes to speak in his right ear to comment, he quickly moves his head the other way for her to speak into his left. Fans have noticed how much the two tend to shift their heads in that way but they are certainly not complaining because when the video is paused just right, it looks like the two are going in for a kiss.

...

On their Take Me Home Tour, there's no denying how much fun the fans have when the band begins their segment of the show where they answer fan-asked questions--especially with how much YN and Harry drift towards one another.

Once Liam's read a question asking the band what Disney character they would like to be, he turns his attention to Harry first.

"I'd be Mufasa."

She puts a hand on her hip while the other lazily holds the microphone to her mouth, "Well he's quite hot. M'not ashamed to say it."

YN cheekily shrugs as the fans around the arena scream out from her comment. All the boys laugh along and she curiously looks at how Harry chuckles while swiping his thumb over Liam's forehead. She's quickly shaking her head, patting Harry on the shoulder, and mouthing to him that that's the wrong character.

He smirks and quickly floats closer over to her while the rest of the band discusses their answers. The fans erupt in screams at the sight of him putting a hand on her hip, pulling her to his chest as he leans down to speak into her ear. The audience can probably guess what he's explaining to her but they mainly focus on the way his fingers spread themselves over her hip, the way his pinky mindlessly loops under her belt loop and how his index finger barely grazes over the top of her jeans and to the slightly exposed skin of her back.

After he's finished explaining the sexual act, Harry pulls back and repeats his actions of brushing his thumb over her forehead and mouthing the word Simba.

The crowd lets out excited, high-pitched screams at the sight of him letting out a boyish giggle when YN's jaw drops and her eyes go wide. She quickly recovers though when she beckons him back to her, leaning up in the balls of her feet to cheekily tell him, "Oh, so that's what that's called. Never knew it had a name."

While Harry forces himself to laugh instead of scowl at the thought of his secret crush being with another guy, YN answers the question by saying that she'd like to be one of the mermaids from Peter Pan.

...

On the Where We Are Tour, fans in the pit push and shove their way over to the right side of the stage to get the best view they can of YN and Harry sitting side by side on the risen platforms in the middle of the catwalk.

It's well known that every show the two are constantly talking with one another, barely holding their microphones to their lips just in time to not miss their singing parts.

Almost every show has Harry or YN pulling out each other's earpieces, leaning in so close (often times a little too close) to speak into one another ears.

This time is the others except that YN was a little more touchy than usual. YN isn't a huge fan of physical touch but to the public eye, she had to be for various photo shoots, meeting various celebrities constantly, and hugging, high-fiving and kissing multiple fans. When it came to the other boys on stage, there was always an occasional water fight, roughhousing in the green rooms before having to get dressed in their outfits for the show, and the constant hair pulling, face picking and arm slapping.

Yet today, Harry notices the subtle touches she's been giving more than unusual: a hand on his hip as she maneuvers around him as they depart down the stage when singing Midnight Memories, leaning her head on his shoulder briefly during Kiss You, and a squeeze to his wrist during their trip down the catwalk for Why Don't We Go There.

This show seems like any other when fans see the way that as soon as the two band members are seated and give a couple of initial waves to the fans, YN is scooting up close to Harry and pulling out his earpiece.

"Your hair is getting long innit?" She says over Niall introducing the next song.

Harry leans his head back a bit to say into her ear, "Gemma said it needed a trim already."

"No, not yet," She shakes her head with a fond smile. "I like how curly s'getting."

And Harry just has to sit and soak in her compliment as she lifts her microphone to her lips to sing her intro to Don't Forget Where You Belong.

When Harry's solo comes on, YN doesn't really know what comes over her but she reaches out to brush her fingers along his overgrown ringlets. He gives her a glance with a quick raise of his brows before turning his attention back to the crowd. He's only assuming that it might have been an impulse action on her part and it'll have her pulling her hand back to her lap the next second; but she doesn't stop.

YN gently moves her hand to the back of his neck and before she even realizes what she's doing, her fingers card up the base of his scalp all the while Harry's trying to keep his eyes from fluttering closed. It's such an intimate, gentle act that he might combust altogether. Especially when she does a small, playful tug to his hair.

...

On the band’s last show of their last tour, everyone takes a moment to give hugs to one another and to say that YN and Harry took center stage is an understatement.

She naturally wraps her arms over the tops of his broad shoulders and digs her teary face into the crook of his neck. Harry leans down to wrap his arms around the bottom of her back and pulls her flush to his chest. The two stay in their embrace for a minute longer than when they hugged their other band members but they honestly didn't care. Their management team can't say shit when YN pulls back, cupping his cheeks and shaking her head with a teary-eyed smile.

He gives her her favorite dimpled smile and gives a pat to her hip--a little too low that his hand is basically on the top of her bum--before joining up with the rest of their band members in a group hug.

...

And of course there are some other quick moments that never get passed fans:

On their Where We Are Tour when moving past one another on stage, YN doesn't think twice about leaning forward and Harry puts his arms above his head as he slides behind her, trying desperately not to think about the way her bum brushed up against his pelvis.

On the same tour when all six of them are seated side by side on the step of the stage's catwalk when Harry sings his solo for Little Things, the two of them turn their heads to look at each other at the same time without thinking. Given their close proximity, YN can't help her eyes linger down to his lips before quickly turning away.

During a performance for Drag Me Down on their last tour, while YN sings the chorus, she takes a hold of her microphone stand as she lowers herself down with a sultry sway of her hips. All the while Harry has a hard time keeping his eyes forwards and not on his bandmate next to him.

SINCE 2010 masterlist

taglist:

@wobblymug @be-with-me-so-happily @ashtongivesmebutterflies @kiwiskiwiskiwi @darlingdesire @obsesseddd @hopefulwastelandcreation @cacapeepee @breezie-b00 @harrysfolklore @theekyliepage @sunshinemoonsposts @nervousspiderling @tbslonelyhes @tenaciousperfectionunknown @harrystylesrecs @certified-nalayak @itsjustsel @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @gviosca @behindmygreyeyes @twobluejeans @allisonxmcu @theemeraldbutterfly @jean-love @marvellover-sam @b-reads-things @reveriehs @rach2602 @thurhomish @perrypughstyles @luvonstyles @mxltifxnd0m @teamspideyman @c00chiemonster @juiceboxrry @s8tellite @folklorehrry @illicithallways @claramllera @eunoiaax @hoya122 @nichmedder @sleutherclaw @gloriousmoneyrascalbiscuit @harianaswhore @teawithcyb0rgs @vrittivsanghavi @vc55bughead @futuristiccroissantlampsludge @onecrazydirectioner @valluvsu @itsgabbysblog @awkwardbisexuall @rosehel @sucker4angstt @isalove @diorchives @mrshiddlestyles02 @fdl305

#missed writing little blurbs like this #harry x 1dbandmember!reader #since 2010 series #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles x you #one direction #harry styles and reader #harry styles and y/n #harry styles and you #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles writing #harry styles fic

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assortedseaglass · 4 months

Text

🌟Christingle | Yuletide🌟

Billy Taylor x Reader

Summary: Billy gets flustered when you help with make Christmas decorations for the Halcyon.

Content: Drabble, Fluff

Yuletide Masterlist

Not for the first time that day, Billy Taylor swore under his breath.

“Sodding oranges,”

It seemed a waste to Billy; George getting all these oranges just so the hotel could use them as decoration. It was a waste too, that his afternoon was spent cutting them into slices while the other bell boys were down the pub. But Christmas was the Halcyon’s busiest period and his mother needed him to help wherever he could.

He hissed suddenly, sucking his thumb between his lips. “Bloody hell,”

A small giggle came from the kitchen door and Billy stood up at once, always ready to be of service.

“Everything alright?” Silhouetted by the corridor’s harsh light, you stood watching Billy, a friendly smile on your face. The white apron of your maids’ uniform was bunched between your hands, holding something in great quantities that you didn’t have enough hands for.

Billy rubbed the back of his neck. Ever since you’d started at the Halcyon, you’d made Billy nervous. With your bright smiles, shared glances during Skinner’s inspections and gentle demeanour, Billy couldn’t help but be enamoured by you.

“Yeah, oh yeah, fine.” He nodded and sat back down, pulling the front of his jacket straight and trying not to fluster as you pulled a wooden stool up to his workstation.

He wasn’t a complete stranger to girls. He’d danced with a few occasionally, and attempted to flirt at the pub, but as far as everyday interactions went, Billy’s experience was almost nil. Pretty young women came to the Halcyon all the time, under the watchful eyes of their mothers and husbands. But they either looked down on him, as one of “the staff”, or he was admonished by Garland or his mother as he watched a skirted bottom shimmy away for just a moment too long.

When you’d arrived, he was excited and terrified in equal measure. A pretty girl to talk to who wouldn’t pretend he was invisible and, even better, to work alongside in close quarters. A pretty girl who, most likely, already had a young man and wouldn’t think twice about daft, green, forgetful Billy Taylor.

With a clatter, you emptied the contents of your bunched apron onto the table. Jars and jars of cloves.

“For the Christingles,” you said, answering his glance at them. “Forgot to take a basket to the pantry.” You leant over him, the skin of your wrist brushing his, and took a few oranges from his pile. Billy flushed pink and glanced back at his work slicing the fruit. You didn’t notice. “It’s a waste, isn’t it?”

Billy looked up at you, smiling. “You’re telling me! I’d never even tried an orange until a year ago and here we are cutting them up for decorations.” Billy said, watching as you began adorning your orange with cloves. When you were done, you tied a red ribbon around it’s centre and curled the ends with the blade of a paring knife. You set it down next to you and took another orange in hand. Billy watched as, instead of decorating it, you began peeling it and placed a segment in your mouth.

Through your mouthful you asked, “What have they got you making then, Billy?”

“Garlands for staff kitchen. Not even for the guests. Bloody hell!” He dropped the knife and orange and sucked his thumb.

In an instant, you took his hand in yours. “D’you cut yerself?” Your mouth was still full of orange segments.

“Nah, no,” Billy coughed. “It’s the juice. I’ve a cut on my thumb and the juice keeps irritating it.”

“Over here,” you stood up, not letting go of his hand, and pulled him over to the sink. Running the faucet, you checked its temperature, “not too hot, not too cold,” and placed his hand underneath it.

Billy sighed in relief as the acidic sting dissipated.

“Tell you what, Billy,” you began patting his hand dry. “Why don’t you do the Christingles, and I’ll do the garland? The cloves won’t irritate your hands then.”

Billy was about to voice his agreement when you lifted his hand to your mouth and kissed his thumb. “All better!”

“Blimey.” He stood stock still as you walked back to the table and swapped his tray of orange slices for your jar of cloves. Coughing awkwardly and once more straightening his uniform, Billy made his way to sit beside you, a little closer than last time.

He took up the cloves and began piercing the skin of the orange. As he did, the sweet oil of the fruit filled the air. You inhaled deeply beside him.

“I wish they were cheaper,” you said with a smile. “I’d eat them everyday if I could.” You popped another segment into your mouth and Billy chuckled.

“You better hurry up and finish eating before cook catches you.”

“He won’t miss one orange.”

“No,” Billy finished another Christingle. “I’ll leave the ribbons to you. But I worry you won’t be able to stop yourself.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” you nudged him playfully. “I’ve already stashed one in my coat for later. Open up.”

“You what?”

“Open up!” You were holding an orange segment before his mouth, waiting expectantly for him to do as you asked. Hot nervousness prickled the back of his neck and in between his legs. Tentatively, he opened his mouth and the sweet, acidic taste of the lemon set his taste buds ablaze.

“Thanks,” he swallowed hard. “Can feed myself though.”

You laughed and peeled off another segment, popping it in your own mouth. “I know,” you blushed a little. “Just thought you wouldn’t get the juice in your cut again, that’s all.”

“Oh right,” Billy laughed that time, a little unsure of himself. “Thanks.”

“S’alright.”

An uncomfortable sort of silence fell between the two of you as you worked. You finished your orange and got back to slicing the others ready for drying. Billy worked through a jar of cloves and onto the next as he prepared the fragrant Christingles.

“Sorry if that was inappropr-”

“What are you doing Christmas Ev-”

You spoke at the same time. “You first,” said Billy.

You shifted in your chair and blushed again. A glimmer of pride shone in Billy’s chest.

“I’m sorry if that was inappropriate, Billy. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“No, no,” Billy hurried to reassure you. In truth, it was both inappropriate and uncomfortable, but Billy found he didn’t mind at all. “It was helpful.”

You nodded with a small smile and cut another slice of orange. “And you Billy, what were you saying?”

“Oh, erm. Just, just what are you doing on Christmas Eve? Family plans..” his question trailed off awkwardly. Hopefully.

“Nothing really, probably just help mum get the veg rea-”

“DoyouwanttogotothecarolserviceatSaintPaul’swithme?” It came out as one, wild word. Billy took a deep breath and readied himself to ask again when he was interrupted.

“Yes.”

He blinked in shock. “You what?”

“Yeah, I’ll go with you.”

“Oh, right, ok,” Billy began picking up and putting down various things on the table. Oranges, ribbon, clove jars, knives, entirely unsure of what to do. “Right, brilliant.”

The usual suspects: @arcielee @targaryenrealnessdarling @theoneeyedprince @ewanmitchellcrumbs @ellrond @cyeco13 @babyblue711 @exitpursuedbyavulcan @humanpurposes @myfandomprompts @barbieaemond @anjelicawrites

#ewan mitchell #billy taylor #the halcyon #ewan mitchell x reader #billy taylor x reader #hilde's twelve days of christmas

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