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starbandit · 2 months

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Mr. Rockstar (J.J.K)

Preview: Your black sequined set hugged your body perfectly from what he could see, your appearance alone made his mouth water. If anyone was coming home with him, it would be you.

contains - rockstar!Jungkook, chubby reader, riding, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex, nipple play, mentions of alcohol, non established relationship MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

word count - 2.5k/ unedited

These shows usually went the same way, a dimly lit club with stuffy air and screaming girls. Jungkook loved the attention, what twenty something year old boy wouldn’t? They would always fawn over the dark sleeve of tattoos that lined his arm while he stood at the bar after his set, boys and girls alike.

The lights beat down on Jungkook, the sweat dripping down his face as he sang into the mic. He couldn’t wait to get off stage, get a drink at the bar, and get back to the hotel. Maybe he would get lucky and take someone home, but based on how his night was already, he had his doubts.

That was, until a black sparkle caught his eye. A smirk painted his face as his eyes traced over the person dancing in the front row. Your black sequined set hugged your body perfectly from what he could see, your appearance alone made his mouth water. If anyone was coming home with him, it would be you.

Once his set ended, he stripped in the changing room, opting for a shirt that wasn’t drenched in his own sweat. He freshened up before leaving, going back out on the club floor to search for you. He spotted you at the bar, giggling with a friend with a drink in your hand.

He stepped to an open spot next to you, flagging down the bartender with a kind smile. Your head turned to look at him and Jungkook could swear you took his breath away.

“Could I buy you a drink?” He leaned down to ask in your ear. His breath tickled the sensitive skin, a shiver running down your spine.

“Hm, usually I’ll play hard to get, but you’re cute, and I want another drink,” You giggled, placing your hand on his chest. “I’ll let you buy me a drink.”

Jungkook smirked at you, watching as you told the bartender what you wanted, followed by him sliding his card into his hand. He turned back to you, admiring the outfit you had picked for the night. The way your arms fell at your sides, the soft skin slightly red from the rough plastic. He wanted to admire the outfit in better lighting, to watch how your curves moved as you slid off your pants, the supple skin that was gently hanging over the top of your pants being freed, the way your breasts would fall as you took off your top.

He was snapped out of his thoughts as you giggled, moving slightly closer to him in the growing crowd. “So, Mr. Rockstar, did you buy me this drink out of the kindness in your heart or were you hoping for something more?” You spoke over the loud music that the DJ had started playing

“To be honest, I was hoping to get you out of that outfit tonight. As amazing as it is, I’d much rather see what you look like without it.” He chuckled and took a sip of his drink.

You smiled up at him. “I might have to take you up on that offer, how about we dance a bit and then you can take me home?” You set your, now finished, drink down on the bar before grabbing Jungkook's hand to pull him to the dance floor.

The two of you danced for a bit, which had turned into mostly sloppy grinding. The sloppy grinding turned into a hot kiss, and Jungkook had to hold himself back from taking you right there on the dance floor.

“Let’s take this somewhere else,” He suggested, pulling you out of the dance floor and towards the double doors next to the stage. He smiled at security and pulled you through, to a much quieter area.

Your tipsy giggles filled the space as Jungkook pulled you towards the back, collecting his personal belongings and texting his manager. As much as he wanted to fuck you backstage, the amount of cameras and people made him slightly anxious.

He led you to a big van with blacked out windows. The driver continued to stare forward as the two of you stumbled in, taking a seat on the long bench in the back.

“Hm… I know you’re hot but are you sure this isn’t a kidnapping?” You let out a nervous giggle as Jungkook brushed your hair out of the way to suck a mark on your neck. The cold metal of his lip ring against your skin made you jump slightly. Your worries flew out of the window as he gently bit down on the skin and immediately soothed the area with a soft lick. The whimper that was torn from your throat was almost embarrassing. Almost.

It didn’t take long to arrive at the hotel, a quick drive full of hot touches and messy giggling. Jungkook tugged you to his room, barely even looking as he scanned the keycard and pushed into the room. He grunted as he pulled away, flopping to sit on the edge of the plush bed in the center of the room. He spread his legs, the tight fabric of his jeans outlining the definition in his thighs and the bulge growing in his pants. You watched as the muscles in his arms rippled as he leaned back to rest on his hands.

“Let me see the outfit,” He bit his lip, the piercing sat in his lip getting caught between his teeth. “Give me a twirl, baby girl.”

You blushed, giving Jungkook a slow turn. His eyes scanned you, how the black fabric sat over your rolls, how the fabric sat tight against your skin. He eyed the stretch marks on the backs of your arms, wondering just where else you had them. Surely they lined your thighs and ass, maybe you even had some on your stomach. His mouth was watering at the thought, he couldn’t wait to feel them under his fingers, under his lips.

“God,” He groaned, his hand moving to rub at his cock through his jeans. “I love it, but I wanna rip it off you.”

You smiled at him, moving closer to straddle him. You moved his hand before sitting down, placing it on your ass as you took a seat. He got the message, gripping and rolling your hips forward as soon as you got settled. You ducked your head down, placing soft kisses to the skin of his neck. Soft whines flew from his throat, egging you on.

You sighed against his throat as his hands unclasped the tight, corset-like material of your top. The material was starting to irritate your skin, leaving lines and slightly red areas where it was the tightest. Jungkook ran his fingers over the sensitive skin, gently teasing the area. He sat back, eyes lowering to admire your body.

He let out a groan as his hands reached up, gently squeezing your breasts. His thumbs flicked over your nipples, causing your eyes to roll back for a second. He dipped down, taking one of the hardened buds into his mouth. He looked up at you, eyes hooded and pupils blown, while he gently played with your other boob. You whimpered and let your hands fall to his hair, brushing the long locks out of his eyes before gripping the strands at the crown of his head.

His eyes fluttered closed as he let out a small hum, pulling away with a little pop to pay attention to your other breast. You gripped the locks harder, pulling him away when he began to rut up against you. His mouth fell open in a whimper and he bit his lip as you smirked at him.

“Getting a little desperate, are we?” You teased lightly, wiggling a little on his lap.

“Baby, I am going to fucking ruin you.” He growled. Your heart began to race as he wrapped his arms around you and flipped you onto your back, now hovering over you. “Not so tough now, are you?”

You hummed lightly and nodded. “I’ll let you do whatever you want to me, Mr. Rockstar.” You smirked up at him, letting out a little moan as you dragged your hands over the curves of your body.

His hands moved down to your pants in record time, unbuttoning the material and pulling them down, exposing the soft flesh. Jungkook could feel himself growing impossibly harder, soaking a wet spot on the front of his underwear, at the sight. Your supple thighs, the gentle pudge of your belly, god he was weak.

He dipped down, lips making contact with your stomach, kissing down, down, down. His tongue peeked out and gave teasing licks over the stretch marks on your tummy, humming as he pushed your thighs apart. Jungkook could feel his mouth watering as he stared at your skimpy underwear, the fabric soaked.

“Well, these aren’t doing you any good, now are they?” He hooked a finger under the thin fabric and snapped the waist band. “Why don’t I get rid of them for you?”

You gasped as he completely tore the fabric off your body and threw it, giving you no time to react before he dipped down and began feverishly licking at your pussy. A broken moan left your lips and you dug your hands into his hair. The heat of his tongue was just right, hitting every spot perfectly.

You glanced down, catching a glimpse of his eyes. He was staring up at you, eyes dark and glossy. He moaned against you, digging his face deeper into you. His hands gripped your hips, fingertips digging into the skin. You whimpered as you pulled his hair and dropped your head into the pillows. Sin, he was pure sin.

Jungkook continued to eat you out, tongue working absolute miracles on your clit. He was alternating between flicking the sensitive bud and sucking, bringing you close to the edge before switching, leaving just enough time in between to leave you wobbling a few steps back from orgasm. Two tattooed fingers made their way to your entrance, sinking in and immediately finding the spot that makes your vision go black.

His tongue and fingers moved in time together, creating a beautiful symphony of wet sounds and moans. Your orgasm was quickly reapproaching, a fire was lit in your belly and there was no stopping it.

“O-oh fuck- fuck,” You whimpered as your thighs began to shake, hand tightening in Jungkooks locks. You pulled him impossibly closer, thighs squeezing around his head as your orgasm took over. The warmth spread down to your toes, and through your body as you rode it out on his tongue and fingers, hips twitching in search of friction.

Jungkook removed his fingers and quickly placed them in his mouth, cleaning any remaining traces of you from them, before ditching his pants. You watched in awe as his cock bounced, tip glistening with precum and ruby red. He wrapped his hand around it, head falling back to expose his perfect neck as he gave himself a few tugs.

As soon as he crawled back onto the bed, you wasted no time in jumping on top of him. You needed him. You let out a loud groan in unison as you sunk down on him. His cock sat so perfectly inside of you, so warm and hitting every spot perfectly.

You gave him no time to adjust, instead rocking your hips back and forth in a steady motion. Your hands found their way to his chest, fingers gripping the soft material of his t-shirt as you bounced on him. Whimpers sounded around the room, and you weren’t sure if they were from you or Jungkook.

“Take it off,” You pulled at his shirt. “Please, get it off.” You balled the fabric up and began trying to tug it over his head. Jungkook assisted you, working feverishly to get the shirt off. Once the fabric was finally ditched, you couldn't help but admire the man beneath you.

Colorful tattoos decorated his skin, leading to a broad and muscular chest, down to a set of chiseled abs. You groaned and leaned back slightly, gripping Jungkook's thighs as you rocked your hips faster, milking more noises from him. The muscles contracted under your fingers as he rocked up to meet your movements.

Jungkook's hands trailed all over your body, touching and squeezing every inch of exposed skin that he could get his hands on. “I’m fucking obsessed with you.” He grunted out, fingers finding purchase on your hips, gripping the flesh.

You whined in response, your rhythm beginning to slow as you grew tired. Your fingers found their way to his nipples, gently rolling the buds between your fingers. You couldn’t help but smirk at the shiver that snuck its way through his entire body as you played with the sensitive buds.

“Come here,” Jungkook wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. You collapsed forward and caught him in a sloppy kiss. You gasped as he adjusted, placing his feet flat on the bed and began bucking his hips up into you at a fast pace. His hips made contact with your ass with every thrust, a loud smacking noise echoing throughout the room.

You moaned into his mouth with every movement, your tongues sloppily meeting in the middle and caressing each other in the most sinful way. You sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, giving a slight nibble as you pulled away to catch your breath.

You were getting close again, the fire was burning low in your belly and beginning to spread down to your hips. Jungkooks pace was speeding up and getting sloppy, leading you to believe he was in the same boat.

“Gonna, ah fuck-” He groaned. “Gonna fuckin’ fill you up so good.” He dug his nails into your back and wrapped his lips around your collarbone. He sucked a dark purple mark into the skin, giving it a quick bite before pulling off. His hips bucked into you at the perfect angle, stroking your walls just right.

“Fuck, I’m close.” You whimpered, your hands gripping around to find something, anything, to hold on to. You tightened around Jungkook, your ears ringing and vision going black as you released.

A moan ripped through Jungkook as he pressed up one final time, painting your walls with thick, hot, ropes. He gently pushed through both of your releases, hugging your body tight as you both took deep breaths and tried to come down. A thick coat of sweat covered both of you.

You sat back up, his now softening cock still nestled deep in you, and ran a hand through your hair. You glance back down at Jungkook, who is resting beautifully against the plush hotel pillows. His cheeks are flushed, lips pink and swollen, and his eyes are closed. You allow yourself to bask in the moment, silence covering the hotel room.

Jungkook breaks the silence first. “So, after our shower, you wanna grab some dinner?” He cracked an eye open to peak up at you. “My treat.”

“Okay, Mr. Rockstar.” You giggled. “I’ll meet you in there,”

Jungkook watched as you stood up and sauntered off towards the bathroom, hips swaying as you walked. He bit his lip as he watched, and couldn’t seem to get up fast enough when you turned around and beckoned him over.

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook one shot #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts one shot #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #my writing #text #this has also been sitting in my drafts for months #literally started this last year

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flemingsfreckles · 2 months

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Perfect To Me (18+)

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Preview: Jessie notices you acting differently, when she learns why, she’s determined to help.

Warnings: body image issues, self deprecation, self consciousness, some self hatred, SMUT (18+), somewhat controlling Jessie, mirror sex, edging, fingering (r receiving), mentions of strap on sex,

WC: 3.0k

Today had just been one of those days, you woke up and felt wrong. It started when you went into the bathroom, seeing two large pimples bright red on your face. Then when you changed you couldn’t help but notice every little detail wrong with your body, stretch marks, scars, blemishes, all of it, you hated it. You tried to get dressed, everything feeling too tight on your body caused you to spiral even further.

Jessie was quick to notice you were off, that morning opting to wear a sweatshirt and pants despite the warm weather. She then noticed at training the way you hurried off to the bathroom to change, unlike normal. She noticed you were frustrated at practice, having a rough day overall it seemed. On the way home you didn’t say anything, silently watching out the window, thinking about everything that went wrong.

“What’s going on in that little head of yours?” She questions you as she throws the car in park in the driveway.

“Don’t want to talk about it.” You dismiss her concerns for you.

Her hand comes over the console and finds its way to your thigh. “Babe, talk to me. You’ve been quiet all day, I’m worried about you.”

You loved Jessie, she had been a perfect girlfriend for the past year, but she was insistent. She always wanted to talk things through, it got on your nerves, sometimes you had to sit in self loathing first. “I feel like shit about myself Jessie! I’m bloated, nothing fits, everything is too tight, everything seems wrong, everyone else is running around with their toned stomachs and perfect legs, I have stretch marks, I have acne, I hate myself.”

“Hey!” Jessie snaps. “You’re not allowed to speak about my girlfriend like that!”

“I can talk about her however the fuck I want to, I hate myself, I hate myself, I hate myself.” You taunt Jessie as you unbuckled and closed the door hard behind you.

Jessie follows you in the house. She lets you be for the next few hours, keeping her distance knowing you just needed some time alone to work through your feelings. And you worked through those feelings, as best you could, still not loving your body, still annoyed at the way everything fit, but better than you were this morning.

Your uncomfortable feelings with your body fade slightly as the day goes on, you start to forget what a terrible start to your morning you had. You knew you were overreacting, feeling just overwhelmed with the day, you took it out on yourself, you always did. What you didn’t know was Jessie hadn’t forgotten the way you had moved away from the mirror at home, the way she saw you staring for too long at your thighs and stomach, the way you closed yourself in the bathroom at home and at work to change. She was determined to make you feel better, even if you had already done it for yourself.

Which is how she ended up feeling you up as the two of you attempted to watch a movie. The movie is quickly forgotten as she pulls you up onto her lap to straddle her. Her hands on your waist, pulling you into her, encouraging your grinding motion. Your hands run through her curls as your lips slide against each other.

She reaches for your shirt, you nod hard against her, letting her know it was okay to pull it up and over your head. Your self conscious feeling comes back slightly as Jessie’s eyes make their way across your body. She then slides her finger tips into the waistband of your pants.

“Can I?”

“Just touch me already Jess, don’t take them off.” You think you’re being subtle, just hoping she’ll think you’re desperate enough for her touch that she shouldn’t bother taking off your pants. It’s less that you’re desperate and more you didnt feel like being completely naked.

“Okay babe.” Her hand slides past your waistband and pushes aside your panties. “Fuck.” She whispers as she feels the arousal between your lips.

“Please Jess.” Maybe you actually were desperate for her touch. She brings her fingers up to your clit, beginning to play with it exactly how she knew to. Jessie would usually tease a bit, giving you soft touches, moving away for a moment, slowing down, but today she was doing all the right things. It was as if she was trying to get you off as quickly as possible. You ground down onto her fingers, increasing the friction and pleasure.

“Fuck Jessie.”

“You feel so good on my fingers baby.” She groans into you and your grip on her hair tightens.

“Babe I’m not going to last long if you keep doing that.”

She smirks up at you. “I know.”

“Oh fuck.” You drop your head to her shoulder, letting out a string of moaned profanities from the pleasure of being right on the edge of release. And then you're quickly cursing Jessie as she takes away her fingers, removing them completely from your waistband.

“What the hell?” your head snaps up to look at her.

“Get up.” She taps your thighs and you move off of her reluctantly wishing she would finish what she just started. You were also still pissed that she took away your orgasm.

“Take the rest off and join me in the bedroom.” She looks at you, her eyes are soft, pupils are big. She turns and disappears into your bedroom. You assumed she was putting down the waterproof blanket, her strap, and maybe a few other toys.

Wanting to get your orgasm, you quickly remove your clothing, too focused on getting off that you don’t care as much about being naked. You leave your pants, underwear, and bra on the couch with your discarded shirt. You make your way to Jessie, walking into the bedroom.

Jessie is sitting on the bed against the headboard, she was now just in her sports bra and boxers, legs spread out on the bed. You notice there isn’t a blanket on the bed, she didn’t have out any of the toys you shared. You then noticed the large mirror usually in the corner of your bedroom had been moved to the end of the bed.

“Sit.” She patted the spot between her legs, you obeyed, crawling onto the bed and kneeling between her thighs. You start to move to straddle her, just as you had been on the couch, when she stops you.

“Nope, turn around, back to me.” You turn yourself, you bare back pressing against Jessie’s covered chest. You now realize the placement of the mirror, so you could see the two of you from where you sat together on the bed, Jessie’s head resting just above your shoulder.

“Good girl.” As you get settled where she wanted you Jessie praises you. She uses her arms to uncross your own, removing them from where they hid your chest, pulling them down and placing your hands on her thighs. She then uses her own legs to hook around yours spreading your legs, leaving you completely exposed in front of the mirror. “Now before I help you finish what I started out there, we’re doing this.” She gestures to the mirror.

“Look at yourself.” You don’t follow that instruction. Keeping your eyes glued to the bed sheets, not wanting to see your naked body in the mirror. Jessie gives you a second to look up, when you don’t her hand is hard on your chin, forcing your face up. You close your eyes, “I said, look at yourself.” Her grasp is hard on your face, a grasp that is demanding and slightly harsh.

You do as she says, opening your eyes, only your eyes find her eyes in the mirror, still avoiding looking at your body.

“Babe, don’t make this harder than it should be.” Her whisper is gentle in your ear, a contrast to her harsh grip and tone from before. “Look at my hands if that’s easier.” She adds before she removes her grip from your chin placing her hands on your shoulders.

“See these babe?” She squeezes your shoulders, “I love your strong shoulders and arms, I love how they hold me tight, how they hold me when we dance in the kitchen, I love how they toss me on the bed before you have your way with me. I appreciate your arms everyday.” Her hands rub from your shoulders down to your hands and back up, you watch, keeping your eyes on her hands. Her lips place kisses on each shoulder. “Tell me one thing you love about your arms and shoulders, pretty girl.”

“Um,” your eyes fall for a minute, Jessie’s hand finds your chin, gently pushing it to remind you to look up. “I love that they get to hug you, after a goal when you come and jump into my arms, they get to hold you up.”

“Good job baby.” She turned her head down to you, gently guiding you to kiss her. “Keep being a good girl and you’ll get a reward.”

Her hands then slide down, finding your chest. “Mhhh” she hums as she grasps each of your tits firmly in her hand. Her actions have you letting out a small moan. “I mean I think it’s obvious why I love these, but I love how you react when I touch them, when I drag my tongue over here.” She lets her fingers drag across your nipples making you arch into her touch slightly. “I love how you let me fall asleep with my head on them, they really make the best pillows.” Her hands remain on your chest, she is playing with your nipples and the surrounding skin. “Your turn.” She tells you.

You’re stuck, your shoulders and arms were easy, you didn’t fully despise them, your chest, and frankly the rest of your body was going to be harder.

“I dunno.” You look down. Your hands moved down to start to pick at the skin on your thighs.

“Hey,” Jessie pulls your hands away from where they were picking. “I’ll keep going then. I love the way they look in your sports bra, I love the pretty little noises you make when I play with them, I love how you let me mark them with my mouth, I love-“

“Okay stop.” You gently chew your lip, looking at Jessie through the mirror, her gaze is strong on you. “I like how they look in that yellow top that you like so much.”

“That’s perfect baby.” She gives you a nod and kisses the side of your head.

Her hands trail down. Settling on your waist and stomach. You took a deep breath, eyes still looking at Jessie’s face.

“Look at my hands.” She tells you. You drop your eyes lower, looking at where her hands were spread on your own stomach.

“I love your stomach, your waist. I love being able to hold you tight around the waist, I love how your hips look when you tuck in your jersey,”

“I have stretch marks.” You interrupt her, you don’t mean to but the words just come out. You tense, expecting to get scolded by Jessie. Only she doesn’t scold you, she just calmly starts speaking again.

“Yeah baby, you do.” Her fingers gently drag over the lines you were so insecure about. “But guess what, so does everyone, you’re strong because of those marks, you grew, you’re an athlete, you push this body to the limit everyday. You’re making it stronger, faster, and sometimes that means your muscles grow faster than your skin can keep up, so you get these beautiful marks.”

Her hands slide down to the inside of your thighs where more stretch marks sat. They rest, sitting just above where you still desperately needed her touch.

“Look at these legs baby. So strong, they’re able to carry you running around for hours. You’re able to squat, jump, and run, because of these legs.” Her hand is now on the outside of your thigh. “These legs help carry me to bed when I fall asleep on the couch. These legs piggybacked Sam around for 45 minutes so she could say hi to fans after playing a whole 90’ minutes because she didn’t want to deal with her crutches, these legs score game winning goals.”

Her hands squeeze tight, reassuring but also nearing painful. “Now since we are talking about your strong, muscular, beautiful legs, you owe me something you love about your stomach and your legs.”

“I like that my legs let me play soccer and that they’ve let me travel all over and see incredible things.” You stop and stare at your stomach, looking for something good to say about it. “Um. I like my core because it makes me a better athlete, and it’s useful for other activities.” You give Jessie a knowing look through the mirror. It took you and Jessie only a couple times to learn how much core strength is required to be on the giving end of the strap on you shared.

“That’s perfect, you’ve been such a good girl.” Jessie’s voice suddenly deeper. “You did so well baby. Do you want your reward?”

You nod against her, still making eye contact through the mirror.

“What do you want, baby?” She brings her hands down on your thighs so that her index fingers are sitting in the crease between your thigh and pussy.

“Your fingers. Please.” You were ready for her to fuck you, having edged you just to make you sit for what felt like an hour, staring at yourself in the mirror.

“Of course my love.” She gives you a kiss on the cheek. “Anything for my perfect girl.”

Her hands move, her left moving a finger to your entrance, slowly running in up and down to collect some wetness before she gently pushes it inside of you. It’s only one finger but it feels good with how turned on you are from being edged.

“Add another please Jessie.” You manage to get out.

“Anything for you.” She pushed into you with two fingers thrusting them both gently, curling once they’re deep inside of you. Her right hand now settles with just her middle finger on your clit. Unlike before she starts slow, gently tracing around the bud.

Her mouth starts making its way down your neck, leaving hot, open mouth kisses along the side, it makes you sigh, you loved the feeling of her lips on your neck, it was always so sensitive, the way she would suck hard enough to feel it but soft enough not to leave a mark. The way Jessie would drag her teeth over your skin, biting you softly knowing you liked the pain. Her mouth on your neck was heaven.

With her mouth pleasuring your neck and her hands between your thighs, it wasn’t long until your legs were shaking and you were moaning Jessie’s name. Feeling yourself reach the edge again you throw your head back, shutting your eyes.

“Eyes open, watch yourself baby, watch yourself feel good.” Jessie’s shoulder nudges your head up. You listen, but instead of watching yourself you make intense eye contact with Jessie.

She removed her hand from your clit and stalls her fingers inside of you just as your legs start to try and close on her hands. You let out a high pitched whine.

“Do you love your body?” She stares at you through the mirror.

“Yes.”

“Tell me.”

“I love my body.”

“Look at yourself when you say it.” Her hand, previously pleasuring your clit, comes up to hold your chin again. You can smell your arousal on her finger tips. Your eyes leave hers and find yourself staring back at you. “Now, tell me you love yourself again.”

“I love my body.” Her hand drops from your chin.

“Again.”

“I love my body.” Her finger finds its way back to your clit, just touching it, not moving.

“Good girl, again.”

“I love my body.” She starts circling with her fingers, pleasure immediately flowing through you again.

“Again baby.”

“I love my body.” Now she’s gently thrusting her fingers again, no where near the force or speed that she had before but it was better then them sitting still inside of you.

“Good girl, one more and I’ll let you cum.”

“I love my body.”

“That’s my girl, you can cum, I promise I won’t tease you this time.” With her promise her fingers inside of you return their vigor from before, immediately feeling yourself clenching tightly around them. Her finger in your clit increases its pressure and you watch yourself fall apart in the mirror. You’re able to watch your orgasm start before the pleasure becomes too much and you have to shut your eyes and throw your head back.

Jessie praises you as she works you through your orgasm. Her words spur you on further, her lips hot against your ear. “That’s it pretty girl, so good, I love making you feel good. You look so pretty cumming around my fingers.”

As you come down from your orgasm you blink your eyes open, finding Jessie’s eyes in the mirror.

“I love you.”

“What do you want? A bath? To cuddle? A nap?” Jessie was always attentive with aftercare even if you had vanilla sex, she always checked in, seeing what you needed and you’d return the favor.

“A bath would be nice.” Jessie nods and slides her legs off of yours, finally allowing you to close your legs. She moves off the bed, holding out a hand to you. You get off the bed with her assistance and walk into the bathroom together. Jessie starts running the bath, putting in your favorite lavender soap. She moved to get out a towel for you. When you notice she only grabs one towel you frown at her.

“What's wrong?”

“Can you join me?” You point to the bath, a pout on your face.

“Of course.” Jessie reaches back into the cabinet for another towel. She comes over to you, wrapping her arms around your waist, holding you tight. “I love you, you’re perfect.” She whispers.

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #Jessie Fleming blurb #jessie fleming smut

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tamberella · 4 months

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Congratulations on your author debut, I'm so excited for your book!! 😇💕

Would you consider talking about the whole process of becoming a book illustrator /children's book author?

Thank you so much, I really appreciate it!! And I'd be happy to share the process!

It all started for me with my 3dTotal artbook. 3dTotal is a small publisher in the UK, and they mainly focus on collections of artists' work. They use Kickstarter to fund each book, and my agent (the amazing Seth Fishman at Gernert) discovered me through the Kickstarter for my artbook Windows to Worlds!

He asked if I had any interest in working on graphic novels or picture books, and I had already been thinking about picture books! He found me my first picture book project with Penguin Workshop, Mother of Sharks, written by the awesome Melissa Cristina Márquez, which came out last year!

While I was working on Mother of Sharks, I was also talking with him about developing The Bakery Dragon, based of course on this painting, which was (and is) one of my proudest artistic moments.

For a little background on the painting, I painted it right after a really challenging couple of months medically - I was dealing with medical complications from my chronic illness for about 6 months, and I wasn't able to finish a single painting the whole time, I was just too exhausted from hospital visits and being in pain. That painting was the first piece I was able to actually complete (both emotionally and literally) in about half a year. So it always held a really special place in my heart, and I really wanted to keep living in that little world. I think there's something in it that is very special to me, about being outside in the cold, seeing warmth and love through a glass barrier, and wanting desperately to reach it.

With Seth's guidance, over a couple months, I developed a pitch for it. The script developed slowly alongside the designs for characters, locations, etc.

(Early version of Ember above! He has changed a bit!)

I thought I had already read a lot of picture books, I've always loved them, but I read hundreds and hundreds during this process. There is something uniquely fun and challenging about telling a complete narrative in 48 pages (which is already a long picture book, many are 32!) My book also pulls some elements from comics, such as speech bubbles, which I found to be incredible assets for humor and character development.

My pitch included designs, some early example spreads, and a rough script with story beats and jokes! My agent took it out into the world, and the publisher we ended up going forward with was Knopf, an imprint of Penguin Random House! I absolutely love the Knopf team and the beautiful books they put out! My editor, Katherine Harrison, really understood what I wanted to accomplish and has been so incredibly helpful in her guidance!

And from there... through rewrites, dialog adjustments, and lots and lots of drawings, it became a book! I'm happy to answer questions about the process! I'll leave you guys with a little preview from the interior of the book! (And of course you can pre-order it here, gotta learn the author skill of always including that link haha!)

#ask #book making process #author process

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kpopfanfictrash · 11 months

Text

Elemental (Teaser)

(NEW) Posting Date: September 28th, 11:00 AM (CST)

Genre: Second Chance / Magic!AU / Modern Fantasy

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader

Length: One Shot

Synopsis: Fear has never been a foreign concept to you. Your entire life has been shaped by knowing you’re different, and fear of the stigma which might follow discovery. Although fire, earth, air and water Elementals have been public for decades, the fear-mongering around your kind hasn’t changed. Something you have intimate knowledge of, having experienced it firsthand. Since then, you’ve done your best to hide your water powers. This is for your own safety, as your mom likes to say.

Safety flies out the window though, when you fall in love. Jeon Jungkook isn’t just any love, either, he’s the love. The one person making you feel as though your darkest corners deserve to be seen. Unable to control your magic around him, you find yourself faced with a horrible fact: you need to break up.

A plan which proves difficult when Jungkook simply refuses to go. And just maybe, you find the constraints you place on yourself don’t make sense anymore.

Author’s Note: Loosely inspired by the Seven MV. Songs to listen to: Dark Skies, A R I Z O N A; Fallingwater, Maggie Rogers; Cold Water, Justin Bieber; Hold Back the River, James Bay; Through Me (The Flood), Hozier

Estimated WC: 23K

Rating: 18+

Preview: 1,015

[ A/N: this is not the start of the story! There is a scene before this, but the teaser is starting here. ]

“Tell me again.” Seokjin sits at the table, spooning yogurt and berries into his mouth. “Why did you have to end things with your boyfriend?”

Cracking open an eye, you glare from where you sit, slumped beside him. “You know why, Seokjin,” you grumble, lifting your head. “Not all of us can be air Elementals in perfect control of their magic.”

“You could be,” he counters, pointing his spoon. “If you put in like, five seconds of training and embraced your water powers instead of running away any time something bad happens.”

“I am not running.”

“No.” He lifts a brow. “You’re cowering, which is far less attractive.”

“I’m not cowering, either.” Scowling, you lower your head to rest on your arm. “I’m wallowing. Big difference.”

Scoffing, Seokjin’s spoon scrapes the bowl. Pushing back his chair, he heads towards the sink and turns on the faucet. The water itches a spot deep in your chest, almost taunting.

“I can’t be too hard on you, though,” Seokjin says as he cleans. “You did get fired and dumped in one day – that’s pretty rough.”

“Does it count as being dumped if I did the dumping?”

“I’ll allow it.” He opens the dishwasher. “But only because really, you didn’t want to break up with Jungkook. You’ve just convinced yourself the world is better without you – something I highly disagree with, by the way, but can’t fault you for feeling. It’s too sad.”

“Thanks,” you mumble and close your eyes.

Two days have passed since your decision to end your relationship, and it hasn’t gone great, to put things lightly. On Monday, you barely left your room as rain poured from the sky. When you did manage to turn on the TV, the weatherperson on Channel 9 predicted local flooding.

Seokjin came home from his business trip that night, took one look at your face and helped to stop the storm. You sagged in relief, falling into a fitful round of sleep that only lasted three hours.

Seokjin is one of the few Elementals you know who embrace their power. Both his parents are air Elementals, and he recently took over their magical consulting business. It pays well, leading Seokjin to own a gorgeous three-bedroom apartment in the middle of the city. He got bored last winter, decided to post for a roommate and well, here you are. One of the few people in the city who don’t care if their roommate is an Elemental, so long as your rent is controlled.

Not that you’re in it for the discount. You truly don’t care, being an Elemental yourself. Seokjin’s laissez-faire attitude towards magic can be unnerving at times, though. You’ve lived your entire life under the assumption your existence is dangerous. All you need to do is Google for examples and here Seokjin is, living his life, seemingly none the worse for the wear.

He discovered your magic a month into being your roommate. Coming home early from a trip, he opened the door and stared, slack-jawed, while the dishes washed themselves in the sink. You looked up and swore, accidentally sending two dishes over the side.

Seokjin stared at the broken shards, then looked up. “You owe me new plates,” he called, heading into his room. After a minute, he poked his head out. “Hey – you think if we combined my wind and your water, we could create a waterspout but on land?”

“That’s… that’s a tornado, Seokjin.”

“Right.” He disappeared. “Well, something to think about!”

Months later, Seokjin still doesn’t understand why you don’t use your magic but respects the decision enough to leave it alone. At least, until things like this happen and he’s once more at a loss.

“Listen.” Seokjin turns, shutting the dishwasher with his hip.

“Oh, no.” You grip your coffee. “What now?”

He holds both hands in the air. “Nothing, nothing. Far be it from me to comment on your mistakes. I’m sorry – did I say mistakes? I meant learned life experience. Through mistakes.”

You grimace. “What there a question in all that rambling?”

“No question.” Seokjin gestures at the kitchen. “Just letting you know you can stay here, rent-free, until you figure things out. You know I’m only taking your money because you insisted. I really, really don’t need it. This place is already paid for.”

“Only because you frightened the seller so badly, they cut the price in half.”

“Hey.” Seokjin’s grin takes on a dark quality. “If they were willing to let their ingrained fear of Elementals influence their selling point, that’s on them. Not me.”

Fighting a smile, you lean back in your chair. “Fair enough. But seriously, thank you,” you add, smile fading. “This will give me time to come up with a plan.”

Nodding again, Seokjin leans on his counter. Tracing the rim of his coffee, he glances down the hall, towards his third bedroom. “You know…”

“No,” you respond, automatic.

Seokjin pouts. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“You were going to suggest I use this time to work on my art.”

He shrugs. “Okay, maybe you did know. But seriously, why not?”

“Because, Seokjin.” Wearily, you exhale. “Every time I try and paint, I just feel this… block. I can’t explain it. Watercolors used to be the one place I could freely express my magic but lately… everything feels wrong. Nothing works like it should.”

Seokjin looks thoughtful. “How long has this been happening?”

“I don’t know, a few months?”

He sips his coffee. “Around the time you started dating Jungkook.”

Blinking, you realize he’s right. That’s almost exactly when you began dating Jungkook. The block started soon after, right when you suppressed other parts of yourself. Those early days hurt too much to think about though, and so you block them out.

“I don’t want to talk about him,” you declare. “Right now, what I need is to find a job. And earn money. Preferably, in that order.”

Seokjin’s lips twitch. “Let me know if the order reverses. I know a guy.”

[ TO BE CONTINUED ]

#WOOHOO #BTS CONTINUES TO MAKE ME A FOOL #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook au #bts fic #bts au #Elemental

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starks-hero · 11 months

Text

Little Runaway

Pairing: Jake Lockley x Reader

Summary: “You heading home, carinõ?” “Not exactly.”

You decide to run and leave everything behind you, but the cabbie you've hailed to drop you to the airport might just change your mind.

Word Count: 2.3k

a/n: I'm not saying that you should listen to this song whilst reading but it definitely gives off the ~vibe~

It was raining and you hadn't packed a jacket.

You hadn't packed much of anything, really. A heap of clothes, your passport, and what little cash you had. You had no clear idea where you were heading; you'd decided you'd figure that out as you went.

The pavement was already beginning to flood, water seeping into the soles of your shoes and dampening your socks. You cringed, readjusting the bag on your back. Your arm, which had been extended to the road in a desperate plea for someone to take pity and pick you up, was growing heavy.

The sky rumbled above you, an unpleasant preview of the deluge that was to come. You huddled in on yourself.

The screech of rubber against gravel split the air as a blue Honda Civic made its entrance at the end of the street. It spun from one side of the road to the other in flamboyant turns, and its radio blared so loudly the windows vibrated and quivered.

You took your chances and raised your arm. You'd take a lift from Ghostface at this rate if it meant getting off this godforsaken sidewalk.

The car sped up, frighteningly so, and your stomach dropped. It swerved towards the path, purposely speeding through the puddles collecting in the gutter. The small wave of water drenched the legs of your pants, from your knees down to your shoes. The blaring music barely drowned out the hysterical laughter from inside the car as it sped off.

You stepped away from the road and the squelch of your wet socks almost reduced you to tears. You folded your arms across your chest and started walking. You weren't even sure you were heading in the right direction but anywhere would be better than here.

Five minutes into your trek and drenched to the point it was a miracle your skin hadn't turned blue, a car horn sounded. You turned to the road.

A cab emerged from the heavy curtain of rain, black and sleek. Its tires were deathly quiet against the gravel and you questioned if it was a figment of your psyche. An imaginary savior.

It slowed as it pulled up beside you, tires kissing the pavement. The paint job was so prestine you could see your reflection staring back at you.

You were a pitiful sight.

The tinted window rolled down painfully slow and you squinted your eyes against the rain to catch sight of the man who sat inside.

Dark brown eyes regarded you from under the fraying edge of his cap. His stare was stern but not judgmental, looking you over with something close to pity.

"You need a ride?"

You oddly found yourself speechless. Blinking twice then once more, you surveyed the car again before looking back to your knight in clad leather. His hand tapped against the steering wheel in an uneven beat, an action you might have mistaken for impatience if his expression was an inch less friendly.

You shuffled your feet, the small puddles of water collecting in your shoes making themselves known. This was exactly what you'd been hoping for but the reality of getting in a car with a stranger was daunting.

"I don't bite, carinõ." He said suddenly. "Look–" he leaned forward and tapped twice on the taxi sign and (albeit run-down) fair counter on the dashboard. "I'm the real deal. I'll take you anywhere you need to go."

He motioned to the back of the car. You inched forward, then fell back on your heel.

"Look, I'd do anything for a pretty face but I don't have all day, are you coming or going?" Despite the nature of his words, his voice was still low, even; you'd dare say kindly.

Throwing caution, (as well as your memory of every murder mystery film you'd ever seen) to the wind, you slipped into the back of the car.

It was an instant relief. The warm air from the heaters kissing your skin and heating your cheeks. Even the heavy scent of cigarettes that clung to everything inside the taxi was somewhat comforting.

"Coming, then," you heard your driver muse as he pulled back onto the road.

You'd given him your destination, (the nearest airport, railroad or dock) and then you were off. Watching the world fade into a blundered mix of grey's outside the car's window made what you were doing feel far more real.

A few minutes of silence passed, followed by a small handful spent trading small talk, mostly about the weather. You supposed that it was all part of his job.

"You heading home, carinõ?" he asked casually and you supposed it was a fair question to ask.

"Not exactly," you answered, choosing to leave it at that.

You caught sight of his nod in the rearview mirror. He was quiet in contemplation for a moment. "Anywhere in mind?"

A laugh of disbelief, mostly at your own actions. "Anywhere away from here." In all honesty, you hadn't planned that far ahead. Your destination largely depended on which ticket was cheapest.

Another hum of thought from your chofer. "I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess you're not going to tell me what it is you're running from, no?"

You crossed your arms over your chest and huddled in on yourself. Your clothes were still dripping and the heating was doing little to fend off the chill now.

"Then you'd guess right."

The car lulled back into a gentle quiet. The rhythmic sound of the tires gliding over the road, the occasional bump throwing it off its rhythm. The rain pattering at the roof and windows, and the persistent beating of your driver's hand against the wheel.

You shivered again, a rebellious droplet having fallen from your damp hair and sliding down your back. You missed the look the cabbie gave you in the mirror.

He slowed the cab, just enough for him to lean across and open the glove compartment without having to worry about ending up in an unplanned game of bumper cars.

A large, brown jacket was tossed to you, the faux fur lining the neck feeling heavenly between your stiff fingers.

"Warm yourself up." His eyes were already back on the road.

You slipped the coat over your shoulders. It swallowed you up in warmth and you sighed, pulling it taunt against your damp frame. It smelled of ash, cigarettes and gasoline, an unusual cocktail that somehow screamed comfort. Given where he'd produced it from, something told you that giving his coat to strangers wasn't all part of your cabbie's general service. You sank into the item of clothing a little more.

You thanked him and comedically he tipped his hat to you. The small smile you managed made your cheeks feel warm.

The rain let up if only a little and the radio took its place as the dominant sound in the car. It was a quiet, dreary song playing; one you'd expect to hear from the front porch on a Sunday morning. Soft and gentle, easy to listen to. And the Spanish singing was ethereal.

'Tuvo compasión, más allá del sol, más allá del sol, yo tengo un hogar, hogar bello hogar.’

You let your head fall back against the rest, shoulders slumping and a gentle hum passing your lips.

Your cabbie lifts his brow in the rear view mirror and oddly you don't feel patronized under his gaze.

"The song," you say instead. "I like it."

In a beat, he reached across and turned the radio dial. The song flowed through the speakers with new strength. His gentle raps against the steering wheel fell into tune with the ballad on the radio, and his features softened.

"En la turbación, más allá del sol, más allá del sol."

His singing was nothing like his voice, the gruffness vanished and the rough edge softened. It was light and gentle, soothing and rivaling the artist on the radio. It was homely.

"Yo tengo un hogar, hogar bello hogar."

You weren't sure where or what you were running to, but you thought that whatever it was would, maybe, feel like this.

A warmth sat in your chest now, not just in place of where the rain had left its chill but where a deep void had been, a cold emptiness that had driven you to run in the first place.

This, you realized, was the feeling you were chasing. You just hadn't expected to find it in the back of a stranger's cab.

You pulled off the main road and turned onto a smaller street. The curbs were flooded and the traffic lights shone dimly through the downpour. You cringed at the thought of leaving your little haven, with its calming music, warm coat and absolute enigma of a driver.

"Here's fine," you said, gently tapping the seat in front of you twice in case the sound of rain against glass had drowned out your voice. You caught his gaze in the mirror again, his brows were pulled together, concerned, but he complied and pulled over all the same.

Within a moment of the car slowing to a halt against the path, he turned fully in his seat to face you.

The airport was at least another twenty minute drive and it was a half an hour to the nearest train station. But you'd watched the red numbers on the fair counter as they went up. This was as close as your money could get you.

You shrugged off his coat, the act sluggish and slow with hesitance. As you attempted to hand it back, he pulled away, raising his hands like the item of clothing would burn him.

"Keep it, carinõ. You need it more than me."

You rushed to refuse, practically tossing it back to him. But your fight was short lived and in the end your cabbie reigned victorious.

You reached for the door handle, catching sight of him resetting the fair counter to zero without your payment. He hadn't expected you to see so you decided not to comment.

"There's nowhere else I can take you?" He asked. His voice was so soothing you almost wanted to say yes just to spend more time with him.

You opened the car door, hoping he didn't notice you slipping thirty pound into the pocket of the backseat. It took several attempts of carefully crafted sentences topped with faux confidence to convince him you were fine being left where you were.

“Thank you,” you said, buttoning up his jacket and sending a stiff wave his way. “You've really helped me out.”

Then you were gone, disappearing into the worsening night. And the rain had gotten heavier.

Jake had always prized himself for his indifference; His ability to stumble upon something and, for the most part, decide that it wasn't his problem.

But as he pulled back onto the road and left you stood on the sidewalk, something that felt an awful lot like guilt settled in his stomach. He didn't know why, he'd done his job; ferried you from A to B. And he'd been generous even at that, given that the rain on your clothes had soaked into the leather seats.

But the way you'd sat huddled up and looking impossibly small in the back seat, it stirred up something in Jake he'd dare call an emotion. He'd offered you his jacket, yes, but that was just being gentlemanly, he assured himself.

The car slowed to a halt at the command of a red light, the rain seeming almost louder now that the car was stationary. Jake turned up the radio. There was an angry rumble of thunder in the distance.

"Ay dios mío." Jake drove through the traffic lights and swerved into the other lane. The worsening weather thankfully meant no one was in attendance to attest to his horrific violation of traffic safety.

A minute of backtracking and you finally came into view, battling your way through the wind and rain, his coat serving as pretty useless armour.

You looked like the human personification of misery.

He stopped the car beside you and rolled the window down, raising his voice over the sound of the rain.

"Get in."

You stared at him as though you'd just experienced the strangest bout of deja vu.

"What?"

"You spend another minute out in this and you'll catch your death and personally I don't want to be responsible for you dying of pneumonia."

He was your cabbie. He shouldn't feel responsible for anything about you. Except perhaps for the fact that he was down twenty-one pound in fairs.

Almost to emphasize Jake's point, you sneezed, sinking into his coat as you did.

God give him strength.

He muttered under his breath, before leaning over his armrest and opening the passenger-side door.

"Come on, don't make me beg."

You regarded him again, much like you did when he first took pity on you and pulled over and Jake suddenly remembered that, yes, this definitely wasn't something regular cabbies did.

"Carinõ, if I had murder on my mind I would have done it back on Leyfield Road." He smirked. "You getting in the car now just lets me have a good night's sleep tonight."

You were skeptical, he could tell. But the feel of his jacket sat heavily against your shoulders seemed to remind you that his intentions were good; or not bad at the very least.

As you stepped off the curb and back into the car, Jake took an unburdened breath for the first time since dropping you off. As he kicked the cab back into gear he stole a glance at you, now sitting to his right.

You were shaking, hair drenched and droplets of water falling down your cheeks and dripping from the end of your nose. He felt like he'd plucked a drowning kitten from the gutter and put it in the front seat, all bundled up in his clothes.

You thanked him and Jake nodded, glad that you hadn't asked for an explanation for his sudden change of profession; from cab driver to protector of the traveller's of the night.

"What now?" you asked instead. A fair question. Jake sighed.

"How do you feel about coffee?"

thank you for reading!

moon knight tag list: @bakerstreethound @yoditopascal @moonlighy @linkpk88 @spideysimpossiblegirl @noahspector @malaanii @ineedmorejakelockley @drmeowingfangirl @loonymagizoologist @othersideoftheparadise @doozywoozy @mywellspringoflife

#first jake lockley fic let's go #jake lockley x reader #moon knight x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley imagine #steven grant imagine #marc spector imagine #moon knight imagine #jake lockley x y/n

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chaibewriting · 7 months

Text

A DOLLAR MAKE 'IM HOLLER (pt. three)

yandere! gang leader! sanemi shinazugawa x chubby! black! fem! reader x yandere! gang leader! katsuki bakugou

masterlist. part one. part two.

-> NOTES: my bad y'all, didn't mean to take so long with this part, but life was happening, however, i'm somewhat pleased with the way that this turned out and I hope that this chapter was worth the wait, the next chapter will be even more of a conundrum. be on the look out for that one soon because I've already started writin' it. -> WARNINGS: threatening messages, unknown numbers, stalking, manipulation. -> WORD COUNT: 5.2k

FALLING asleep after such experiencing such a terrifying chain of events was no easy fret, however, you managed to somehow fall into a dreamless sleep. Perhaps you were outwardly glad to not be back alone at your apartment and your long time best friend sleeping beside you managed to put you at ease. You were grateful for her and Tanjiro, they had come rushing to your aid as soon as you’d called out for them. Asking for assistance or help of any kind was a bit of a struggle for you at times, especially considering how you were raised.

As the sun began to rise, revealing itself through the window of Nezuko’s bedroom, you stirred in your sleep and slowly opened your eyes, lids fluttering as they adjust to your surroundings. To your surprise and sudden realization, Nezuko had scooted closer to you in her sleep and wrapped an arm protectively around your waist with her cheek squished against your back, effectively spooning you from behind. Fortunately, it was a rather cold season so the extra warmth was welcomed, even if it was by surprise. Then again, Nezuko always had a tendency to be a bit of a cuddle bug in her sleep, you had learned to live with it, finding it somewhat endearing.

Carefully, you lifted her arm just a smidge, enough to slip from her hold and sit up, then carefully tucked the pillow you’d been laying your head on under her arm, which she immediately cuddled to her chest.

When your feet touched the floor on the side of the bed, you sighed, reaching up to rub at your temples for a moment of clarity. The memories of the previous day were coming back to you slowly, but still all equally frightening. Suddenly, you look towards the nearby dresser where you recently left your phone and something /told/ you to get up and look at it. Your intuition screamed for you to, and so, you do exactly that, relatively slowly but you still manage to stand up and shuffle towards the dresser. Sharply inhaling, you snatch up your phone, and thanks to oh-so-wonderful technology and its ability to detect motion, your screen flashed on and previews of notifications appeared, one new message waiting to be read. After unlocking your phone you hesitated for a moment's time, but your finger betrayed you as you opened the message to full-screen and nearly vomited after reading what you’d been sent. Squeezing the device in your hand, you were sure that if you were any stronger you would have crushed it in your hands.

Nothing had prepared you when there was a sudden blare of an alarm behind you, causing you to yelp and nearly jump a foot off the ground, dropping your phone in the process.

Fucking Apple alarms…

Rising like a vampire from a coffin, Nezuko sits up straight in her bed and yawns, scratching at the back of her neck and grunting when she realizes some hair had slipped from the bonnet she was wearing (something you had so graciously gifted her last Christmas). You were frozen, still processing the threatening message and calming your racing heartbeat after being frightened by Nezuko’s alarm, and when she finally turned it off, your shoulders drooped, followed by a silent sigh.

Once she finally took note of your standing form, your back still facing her, Nezuko squinted and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands before she said your name, voice laced with worry.

“Y/N…? What are you doing standing up? Did something happen?”

Her question brings you back down to reality enough for you to finally squat down and retrieve your unscathed phone from the floor, silently moving to her side of the bed to hand the device to her.

Fortunately, the screen hadn’t locked and the message in its entirety stayed clearly displayed and allowed for the brunette to read what you were showing her. There was nothing but silence on her end as she stared down at your phone, gripping it nearly as tightly as you had when you’d first read the text. The silence was deafening as she did nothing but stare at your phone for a few minutes, obviously deep in thought seeing how her brows were knitted in the middle of her forehead and her lips were pursued in a focused pout.

When she finally did something, she inhaled sharply and turned your phone screen off, setting it face down on the bed while she pinched and massaged the bridge of her nose.

“You’re staying with me until things blow over, and I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer, Y/N. This has just gotten a whole lot creepier.” She finally said, dropping her hand and turning her head to look at you. Staring back at her, you pondered her words, rubbing at your arm in a moment of deep thought. Once again, you didn’t wish to be babied but right now, you were glad that she was offering for you to stay with her. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to step foot in your apartment right now, let alone go back to staying there /alone./

Nezuko promptly waited for you to start putting on a strong front, ready for a debate about your safety, but she was surprised when you slowly nodded your head, no words leaving your mouth. Your reaction caused a frown to appear on her face as she stood up and walked towards you, opening her arms and beckoning you to her. Carefully, you went to snake your arms around her waist and she hugged you back, squeezing you in a gentle way that always had the tendency to make you feel safe.

…

Thanks to this new development, you didn’t feel up to going to work today which led to you having to call your second-in-command at the restaurant— Pony. You didn’t give too much detail, knowing that she would start to worry for your safety, and instead said you just needed a couple days to break. Luckily, she understood and said to take all the time you needed to before the phone call had ended. Now, you were seated at the dining table in the kitchen of Nezuko’s house, slowly consuming the breakfast that she and you had conjured up together. You’d showered, done your hygiene routine, and got dressed before coming out to eat, even if your appetite was nowhere to be found. Nezuko soon joined you and took a seat across from you at the table, eager to start scarfing down the food in front of her, she always did have quite the appetite.

“Wanna come to work with me?”

Your friend suddenly asked, shifting some rice and rolled egg around on her plate. You looked up from your plate and thought about her suggestion. If she were to leave the house, you’d be left alone again. To your thoughts, to your fears, and to everything in-between. Such thoughts caused you to start chewing at your bottom lip, nearly ripping some skin off in doing so. It took a bit of arranging of said thoughts before you were able to exhale before nodding your head, finally speaking up for the first time since you’d woken up.

“Sure… I don’t think I’ll be able to stay here alone all-day, at least if I go to work with you I can help around and keep my mind busy.” It sounded more like you were trying to convince yourself than giving reason to her but she simply smiled and nodded at your words. But then a thought came to mind on your end once you realized a bit of an issue that made the hairs stand on the back of your neck. “I think— I’m gonna have to go back to my apartment to pick up some more clothes, I didn’t pack much.”

Such words caused Nezuko to pause and stare down at her plate for a moment, tapping the ends of her chopsticks against the porcelain while she thought. And then she seemed to have a plan come to fruition as she went back to eating nonchalantly.

“We can just call Mirko then, I’m sure she’ll come running if we tell her what’s going on.”

“Ugh, and she’ll probably come with a lecture about me missing her and Mitsuri’s self-defense classes.” You murmured, already hearing what the woman would say to you as soon as she caught wind of what was going on in your life currently.

This caused your best friend to only laugh and shake her head, deciding that she should finish off her breakfast before the day would continue on.

Nezuko was the one to make the call since you didn’t have any desire to touch your phone at the moment, still a bit spooked by the threatening message, rightfully so. The two of you had plopped down onto the couch in the living room as the phone rang, waiting for your enthusiastic friend to answer on her end.

“Nezu? What’s got you callin’ so early? Need me to come and do some heavy lifting at the shop?” Her somewhat raspy voice asked, nothing but energy in her tone, along with the sound of something in the background. It sounded like she was lifting weights. Typical.

“Hey Mir'! No no, there’s no need for that, but I do have another request, or I guess I should say /we/ have a request. Are you busy right now?”

The sound of movement on the other end, as well as a groan was heard before Mirko sighed out a reply. “Nope. Whatcha need?” The brunette then looked at you, silently urging you to go on and say something. With a gulp, you mentally prepared for whatever Mirko would say next, and with a shaky greeting you gave a brief summary of the things that happened and what ‘request’ you were making for her.

…

Once you were done, probably putting in a few more details than necessary, the other line was silent, almost as if the woman’s brain was processing all of what you’d said—- which was more than likely the truth.

And then, with a sharp inhale she spoke up.

“Y/N…” She started by saying your name in a scolding manner, making you freeze up and squeeze your eyes shut, waiting for what was to come next.

“Why did you keep this a secret for so long?! You should have told someone! That’s so goddamn creepy and weird! Of course I’ll come and escort you too! I swear to Bugz Bunny if I get my hands on that stalkery piece of shit I’ll grind 'em into protein power 'n make them into a motherfucking shake. I’m comin’ over right now.” Mirko rambled, you could already hear her moving around swiftly, you could even hear people calling out to her when she shoved them aside to get out of her way.

“Gimme like ten— no, fuck that, give me five minutes.” She stated before ending the call, you could only imagine what kind of laws she would probably break to get there.

Mirko was right, it didn't take her ten minutes to get to Nezuko's place, in fact, it took her a record breaking amount of three..that woman is a terrifying force to be reckoned with. That was something unspoken but her getting here in such a short time frame further solidifies that fact. And before you knew it, she was sitting at the table with you and Nezuko, finishing off whatever the two of you hadn't finished eating. You still don't know how it happened, it was almost like she'd teleported into the dining room, but you knew better not to question it and just go with the flow.

"So, do you think you know the stalker? Maybe it's an old classmate or something." Mirko began, enjoying a spoonful of rice as she glanced between you and Nezuko with curiosity. "Classmate? Huh. That would make a lot of sense, there were a couple of weirdos that used to smell your hair and stuff when you weren't looking." Nezuko added, starting to sip some tea from her mug. You glanced towards her with a baffled look, this was the first time you'd heard of this. "Eh!? Since when?! You never told me that???"

The woman coughed nervously and waved her hand around. "I didn't wanna worry you, plus they only did it once, then I told Tanjiro about what happened and he took care of the rest."

Both you and Mirko stopped everything you were doing and looked at your brunette friend, staring her down as she smiled and continued to nonchalantly enjoy her tea. Then, you looked at one another before giving each other a look that spoke millions of words.

"Scary..."

...

Fortunately, Mirko's presence aided in soothing you both, she was a tiny little thing but had the spitfire of at least one hundred great beasts with a smile that often set your worries aside. And in no time, with her help and Nezuko's, you'd packed up about a week's worth of clothes for your stay at Nezuko's. It'd been a while since you had a roommate, but at least you'd feel a little safer and less at the mercy of whoever was trying to 'sweep you off your feet'.

After dropping your bag off at Nezuko's place, Mirko escorted the two of you to Nezuko's Flower Shop and she was on her way, repeatedly telling you both to call or text her if anything seems out of the ordinary or if either of you feel unsafe about something. Then, she left with as much enthusiasm as usual, leaving you and Nezuko to busy yourselves with the daily tasks of running a flower shop. Nezuko was glad to have you to help her along, making it easier for her to open a little earlier than usual. If there was one thing you knew for sure about Nezuko and her work was that she was very serious about her craft and she was constantly busy, all for good reason. You were glad you had her to keep your mind busy and away from staying back to the immediate danger that was revealing it's ugly head every time you thought about it. You'd even made it a point to tuck your phone away into one of the desk drawer's in the little office Nezuko had in the back of the shop. One thing you hadn't expected was for the shop to be so busy with people, which you usually didn't have a problem with. But you couldn't help the feeling in the back of your mind, what if you're stalker knew where you were right now? What if they were one of the customers coming in today? The idea made you anxious but you tried to keep your nerves under wraps, helping Nezuko wrap bouquets and ringing up customers at the register. Everything would be alright, nothing out of the ordinary.

...

"I can't fucking BELIEVE she's friends with a goddamn cop. You sure we don't have him in our pocket?" The passionate, browless man asked as he paced around the carpeted floor in front of his partner's desk, clearly irritated about the build up of recent events involving their romantic life. His blond counterpart sighed from where he was, looking at him blankly through the lenses of his reading glasses. "How many times do I have to tell you that I already had shittyhair check? Stop gettin' freaked out. This ain't gonna change shit. It just means we gotta put the plan into motion a lil' earlier than we anticipated."

Sanemi stopped his pacing at that, turning to look at Katsuki with his permanent wide-eyed gaze. "And how the fuck are we gonna get the ball rollin'? D'you got some kinda masterplan you haven't told me about, man?"

The short answer was 'yes.' Katsuki made a show of explaining the bare minimum of the first step he decided to take and upon doing so, Sanemi gave his partner the side eye, clearly trying to see who would be the one to start off the man's plan. And since Sanemi's overwhelming presence was guaranteed to make their beloved piggy hightail it away, Katsuki decided upon himself to be the one to set things in motion. It was for the best with all things considered.

When would the plan start? That would depend on the one they currently have watching Y/N's every move at the moment.

If there was one thing you could appreciate about helping Nezuko out, it was the difference in smells; compared to wings and dipping sauces, the smell of flowers was a nice welcome. Alongside the calm and relaxing atmosphere, it seemed to put you at ease, even if just a little bit. It had put you in such a calmer space that when Nezuko suddenly ran out of the specific ribbon she used to tie up her special bouquets, you were quick to offer your services. But of course, Nezuko was a bit skeptical and protective.

"I could just close up for now and we can both head to the crafting store, shouldn't take too long if we speed walk—"

You cut her off with a shake of your head. "The least I can do is do this for you. It'll be fine, store's not even that far from here. Should take me just a few minutes to get there and back here, plus, I don't want to let some stalker make me become a recluse."

Naturally, Nezuko frowned at this, seeming to ponder your words as well as your safety, causing her to twirl a strand of hair around her finger. It was her way of fidgeting when she felt a deep sense of anxiety. Instinctively, you gently grabbed her hand, squeezing it with your own. She stopped fidgeting and looked at you with a pout, before sighing, her shoulders slumping as she accepted your offer. "Okay, okay... you're right, but, I don't want anything to happen to you, y'know?" She then let go of her own hair and huffed, pulling a hand away from yours before making a fist at the sky in a dorky movement. "That bastard's gonna pay when the time comes... Let me go get my purse."

Turning on her heels, she stepped away from you and went into the back of the shop, soon coming back with her wallet and a fistful of bills, as well as the tiniest bit of ribbon she had left to make it easier to find in the crafting store. And with that, you were off.

You almost felt like Dora with Nezuko making sure you had your phone and shit before she let you go out on your adventure. Where was Boots? The thought seemed to cheer you up a little as you stiffled a laugh, unknowing of a pair of electric yellow eyes and another set of onyx ones watching you from across the street over a cup of coffee they were nursing. They'd heard the entirety of you and Nezuko's conversation, thanks to the little bug they planted in the shop when the two of you were busy, and they were already informing their bosses of your movements.

Perhaps, walking to the crafting store was proving to take a little longer than you'd anticipated, but, at least you had a second to just wander around, and you felt a bit safe since the streets were somewhat busy with a sprinkle of traffic here and there, in the street and on the sidewalks. At least if your stalker *was* watching you right now they would be unable to do anything with all the witnesses around you, at least, you hoped that would be the case. Quickly, you shook your head, hoping a bit of physical deterrent would keep you out of falling into a pit in your mind, followed by a deep inhale and exhale.

With the crafting store in your sights, you picked up your pace, and much to your delight you were able to enter the store without any anxiety following in your footsteps. Entering, you chewed on your lip and debated on whether or not you wanted to spend a little time lollygagging in the holiday decorations or just go straight for the ribbons aisle. You chose the former, wandering over to the decorations to have a quick look around. It didn't hurt to start planning for decorating your franchise sometime soon, Halloween was coming up after all.

Perhaps... you got a little lost in the sauce as you were looking, giving a certain man ample time to speed his ass over to the crafting store you were located at and enter with a sense of determination in his stride.

How did you get caught in staring at a faux jack 'o lantern that lit up and sang a song from Night Before Christmas? You weren't sure exactly but it was mesmerizing enough for you to be oblivious to the threat that entered the store, clearly looking for something, looking out of place with his intimidating expression and permanent scowl. He began to slowly step forward, scanning the aisles as discreetly as he possibly could.

In that moment, you had finally tore your gaze away from the singing pumpkin and remembered your goal, you would come for decorations later. Stepping out of the aisle, you mindlessly started marching towards the general area of where the ribbon would most likely be, putting yourself in the sights of the man actively *hunting* you.

You had walked right past Katsuki and he instantly recognized you, his eyes following your every move as you made your way through the store. He soon followed in your strides, not even bothering to hide himself clearly following behind you and even turning to go down the same aisle as you. You'd yet to notice, too focused on getting the ribbon for Nezuko and then taking your leave.

As you headed down the aisle, you came across the section of ribbon and took out the sample Nezuko had given to you, making a quick scan around to try and find it as quickly as possible.

Now that Katsuki has found you, he paused, loitering about two yards away from you, staring at the abundance of yarn in front of him while still keeping you in his peripheral. He wasn't some acting fiend, but he knew how to speak to get things he wanted, usually with a bit of aggression but it always worked. Most times he would just swoop in and sink his claws into his desires, but he knew not to do that with you, he needed to truly think about this and not frighten you away.

After a moment of decision making, he plucked up some random skein of yarn and started casually approaching you, almost as if he was trying to get closer to get a better look at your features. Which wasn't hard to do considering the fact that there weren't many black people in this part of New Japan anyways.

“Knew I recognized ya. Long time no see, Miss /Hooters/.” The man says, standing behind you as you're squatted down and comparing the ribbon sample and another ribbon side by side. You paused what you were doing and narrowed your brows, obviously confused, before you stood up and turned to look at who was speaking to you. Soon, you came face to chest with the blond man who'd disrupted the peace at your restaurant some weeks ago. With a glance up, you were able to better recognize him, studying his striking features. It was difficult to forget his spikey, sharp hair and equally sharp carmine eyes, and you hated to admit it but he was attractive. You quickly raked your eyes over his form, taking note of his t-shirt, sweats, and sneakers. He was dressed casually this time around. Studying him further, you noticed the sleeve of tattoos on his right arm, along with the red yarn he had clenched in his hand, causing you to raise an eyebrow. He was watching you watch him, and you couldn't help but be suspicious.

"Is there a reason why you're talking to me right now? If you're looking for yarn recommendations, I can't help you. Sorry." You weren't really sorry, but you didn't know what this guy was capable of, something about him just screamed 'danger', not that you were the type to run away with your tail between your legs when threatened.

Even so, you looked away from him and glanced back down at the ribbons you were trying to compare. Nope. Wrong one. You huffed out of your nose and continued on your search, taking a few steps away from the man who'd decided to approach you. You plucked up another roll of ribbon and compared it to the sample, hoping to find it as quickly as possible so that you could leave and not be in the presence of this man anymore.

Katsuki continued to watch you, the gears turning in his head for a moment as he thought quickly on his feet. Slowly, he began to approach you again, keeping some needed distance between himself and you before he spoke again. "I know you'd rather continue with– whatever you're doin' but, I'm gonna use this coincidence to apologize on behalf of my friend. Didn't mean to disturb your place of work, he's just a piece of work and can be a little… *intense.*" He gruffly stated, watching as you kept up your search, back still turned towards him. That was one thing you weren't expecting from a man who looked angry all the time, an apology. Your brows furrowed as you looked back at him over your shoulder, thinking about what to do next. Then, you glanced back down at the yarn he was holding, deciding not to answer what he'd said, and instead changed the topic. Turning away, you nearly jumped for joy when you found the identical ribbon Nezuko used just in your sights, you grabbed the entire stock of them and sighed, standing up straight again.

"Do you knit or something?"

The question seemed to surprise him, and then he remembered what he'd grabbed as well as what aisle he was on. With quick thinking he answered.

"Nah, I'm more of a crocheter. Ran out of yarn so I came to stock up a little."

Glancing at him and then the singular skein, you looked back up at him and raised an eyebrow. "You came to buy just one skein? Hm. That's pretty goal-oriented, I respect your self-control."

He snickered at your comment (if only you knew) and then motioned to the numerous spools of ribbon you had in your hand. "Looks like you came to buy them out of their stock. You a ribbon dancer or somethin'?"

"Ha. Ha. No. I'm buying this for my friend's shop— which reminds me, I should probably get going before her hair turns grey from worrying." You'd stated, preparing to depart from the man and go pay for the ribbon. You commented and turned, beginning to head towards the check-out line, he fell in strides with you, not seeming to let you wander too far.

Noticing his presence, you look back at him and raise an eyebrow, with the spools of ribbon still in one hand, you put your free hand on your hip. “Is there a reason why you’re following me around like a puppy?”

“You should let me buy you dinner sometime. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that we’re both here. Might be fate.” He remarked, staring down at you with a gaze you couldn't read. The thought seemed to make you chuckle, raising an eyebrow at his cheesy words, though you somewhat admired his straightforward attitude. "If I didn't know any better it would sound like you're trying to ask me on a date even *after* you've already apologized. Is this how you usually pick up women?" Now, it was his turn to scoff and he flashed you a smile that regrettably caused your heart to flutter just a tad bit.

"Heh. Ya caught me. So… whaddya say?"

The person in front of you in the line stepped forward to start getting their things rung up and you stepped forward as well, pondering the man's offer before a realization came to mind. You were still on edge about having your apartment broken in, along with the weird messages, and this obvious gangster was flirting with you. Tanjiro was

going to do his job and you were safe for now, but what if… You looked at the unnamed man for a second, observing him a little closer as you thought things out. Maybe if you went on a date with this scary-looking gangster just once, the stalker would take a hint and go the fuck away. Then again, what if the stalker was possessive? That would mean, they would probably try and hurt this gangster guy in revenge, that would be a death sentence but it could work out in your favor, as dark and cold as that sounded. Perhaps the benefits outweigh the cons of going on a singular date with this guy.

"Next."

Snapped out of your whirl of thoughts by the voice of the cashier, you move to place the heap of ribbon onto the counter and the cashier starts ringing everything up. And just as you're about to use Nezuko's cash to pay, Mr. Carmine places his yarn down on the counter as well and holds his hand up to stop you from getting your cash. Instead, he inserts his debit card into the card reader before you can even protest. You could have stopped him, but you didn't, you simply tucked the cash away and gathered the ribbon after it'd been paid for. In silence, the two of you walked out of the crafting store side by side, and once outside, you finally broke the ice.

"Fine. Just one date though, and nothing else. And don't think I'll agree to anything else just because you paid for some ribbon." You shoved the spools into your pocket and then retrieved your phone from your other pocket. To your disdain, you had new messages from your stalker but you ignored them and opted for creating a new contact for him. "Give me your name and number. I'll text you later."

Your attempt to control the situation made Katsuki all the more infatuated with you but he simply agreed, giving you his full name, along with his number. Once you saved his information, you turned and walked away from him, heading back in the direction of Nezuko's shop, tucking your phone back into your pocket.

Katsuki Bakugou… seemed like a fitting name.

Katsuki watched as your figure became more and more distant before he chuckled, it seemed his plan was a success, and you were none the wiser. It was probably for the best that you remained ignorant, for now, that would just make things easier for everyone.

taglist: @simpforerensattackontitan , @mehhhho3o , @onlyk4is , @winterlovessanemi , @darious , @xxdiaqiaoxx , @simpingfor-wakasa , @taesd-urag , @kashxyou , @black-bhabie-2000 , @dawnrose99 , @hudnkl , @walkerofclouds , @mmst4rz , @tinyjeo , @abandonedhhearts , @heaven857 , @sunghoonsblackgf , @thiccpizza ,

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gyunglitter · 7 months

Text

love in the afterglow ♥︎ choi beomgyu

-you adored me before, oh my god looking boy

you and your boyfriend being so in love after having car sex

word count: 485

warnings: mentions of sex, but no smut, otherwise none!

tags: beomgyu x reader, fluff, mature-ish, drabble

notes: just a lil something to tide yall over while i’m stuck trying to write chapter 5 of stupid cupid lol. i don’t write smut, so this probably the most “mature” content yall will be getting from me for now haha. this could be a lowkey preview for another fic? maybe? idk? we’ll see🤭 happy thanksgiving!!

heavy breaths fogged up the windows around you. the car was hot, and the air smelled of sex, but you were beyond content.

your boyfriend’s panting was slowly dying down, each exhale falling on to your ear as you cradled him close to you, a hand running through his tousled hair while the other lightly rubbed random shapes on his bare back, which was a bit clammy from all the energy he just exerted.

you love this man. you love him and his kisses. his caresses. his laughs. his hands. his hair. everything about him. even the fact that despite this car not being his and having to beg yeonjun to borrow it, he still chose to risk getting his ass beat, just so he could make love to you in it.

was the place ideal? not very, but he told you he couldn’t help it. with the way you were star struck with everything he took you to see, and then the way you rubbed your stomach after heartily eating all the food he bought you. beomgyu told you through deep, heated kisses that he felt so much love for you in his heart, he gave his mind a break to let his heart take control.

you love this man.

you were brought back down to reality when you felt a kiss pressed to the beauty mark in between your boobs, followed by more going further up.

judging by his kisses and his steady breathing, you knew he’d recovered.

grinning, you gently pulled on his hair to bring his eyes and focus back to yours.

you were met with the sight of your lovable boyfriend, with a toothy grin on his face, eyes alight with such sincerity, it made you want to smooch his little forehead.

“hey baby,” he whispered.

there was an innocent type of mischief in his voice, like he was proud. whether it was because of what he did, or what he had, you weren’t sure. but his tone and his endearment toward you brought you to follow through on your desire. the smile on your face only widened when you heard him hum in content.

“i love you,” he whispered, reverently.

his hand that had been stroking your hip moved to gently cup the left side of your face. his touch was so featherlight, it made you feel as if you could fly away away. like you could be exalted with how loved and at peace you felt from his caress.

“beoms…” you breathed.

taking his hand you tenderly brought them to your lips, watching demurely through your eyelashes how his chest expanded as he sighed in awe. your lips spoke truly of utmost love for him and his love for you. not with words, but with the soft kisses you left him.

you love this man. and he knew it. because he loves you too. and you knew it.

#txt #tomorrow x tomorrow #beomgyu #choi beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu fluff #choi beomgyu fluff

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yuzukult · 1 year

Text

crush 03 | jww & oc/reader

title: crush 03 / part of the attacca series pairing: jeon wonwoo x reader/oc (ft. seokmin) rating: 16+ (mentions of sex, but no act of sex) genre: angst, fluff, eventual smut, racecar driver!au, mechanic!au wc: 7.4k summary: all he knows are fast rides, drag-strips, and speed ovals until he meets you, someone that’s got his heart racing instead of his car. warnings: explicit language, smoking, suggestive content (but nothing follows through), mentions of sex a/n: sorry i actually finished this weeks ago but forgot to post it.. embarrassinng frfr

This place looks… a bit shady.

The address Wonwoo sends you doesn’t show a brief description on Google Maps as it normally does, and it’s missing a preview picture of what the location is supposed to look like. When you pull up into the driveway, the asphalt fades into a dusted dirt road with cars of all ages, models, and manufacturers that line up against the fencing before you notice a building with an open garage on the opposite side.

That’s where you spot Wonwoo, crouched over in a white tank and torn up black jeans with a soiled rag over his shoulder. The driver’s window of an old Chevy is down, and Wonwoo has his forearms resting against the panel, casually conversing to the operator of the vehicle. He’s… got nice arms. But that’s besides the point.

He taps against the door. “Tell me when you need me to take another look at the ventilator. Should be workin’ this time around, but if not, Imma have to advise you to get ‘nother car.”

At first, you didn’t get to make out the facial features of who was inside. The reflection of the beaming sunlight hitting the front windshield made it arduous to identify the driver, but when she peeks her head out just barely, you could pinpoint the owner of those pearly white teeth anywhere. It’s the cute flag girl that Seokmin took home that one day.

“Why? When I could just keep coming back to you instead?”

But in lieu of reacting decrepitly to those pretty lashes that brush against her cherry tinted cheekbones like Seokmin does, Wonwoo is a major contrast when he slaps the top of the car with a charming smile. “Sweet, but it’s better to see your mechanic less and not more. Head home now, and only call if something happens to your car.”

With a failed sigh and pout, she waves goodbye to Wonwoo who watches as her car takes off.

Although when his eyes lands on you and your shitty ass Toyota, a show stopping grin tugs on the corners of his mouth. Wonwoo gestures for you to come to where the flag girl was earlier, and part of you feels a bit… special from the way he looks at her then at you. He seems happier, excited, even.

Why couldn’t Seokmin look at you in that way?

Hopping out of the car, you puff your cheeks. “When I said I’d let you take me on a date, I didn’t think it would be here at your shop.”

“I know girls like you,” he begins, crossing his arms before leaning against the doorframe of the garage. Raising a brow, you’re not sure where he’s going with that, but you remain silent to let him continue. “You probably get asked out often and have the most boring dates. What’s the last date you've been on?”

That required some thinking. Maybe it was that guy you met on Tinder and took you out for a candlelit steak dinner. Or even that one dude who took you to that art gallery.

You don’t respond though because Wonwoo seemed to have wanted to guess himself.

“Steak? Dim lighting, candles, maybe? Museums? How about even a walk by the river or waterfront, letting the cool breeze hit your face? Bet he tried to get into your pants after, which was why you didn’t call him back.”

That last one got you. You’ve been on that one before too, and had the same scenario happen. “What are you getting at here?”

He leans over to open your door wider, and you step aside. Reaching to pull the tab that pops the hood of your trunk, it only confuses you more on what he’s going to do next. “Well, I wanna be memorable, not some guy you went out with. Imma teach you how to change a flat.”

“I don’t have a flat.”

“Make believe, doll,” he chuckles, slamming your door shut. He walks to the back of your, pushing the trunk up, and his eyes skim the contents of the back. That term of endearment from Wonwoo is a new one, and for some reason, if it came from someone else, you’d be disgusted. But from him? It’s… kind of alluring? “Why you got so much junk in here?”

You flinch, immediately rushing to his side when the memory of what’s in your car comes to mind. “Oh shit, I—”

“Emergency one night stand kit?” He quirks a brow, lifting up a little tote back with the words woven into the canvas fabric. “You don’t look like the type.”

“It was a gift!” you exclaim, heat rushing to your cheeks as you snatch it back from him. “The contents inside don't match what the writing insists the purpose is for, I promise. I don’t do one night stands.”

“I know.” Wonwoo watches you in amusement, adoration swirling in his pools of chocolates he calls eyes. “You're one of those hopeless romantics. It’s taking a lot for you to even come on this date with me.”

You roll your lips in response, avoiding his loving gaze as you shuffle the stuff to make way for the lid of the compartment at the bottom of trunk. “How would you know that?”

“Because I see the way you look at Dokyeom, and it’s kind of the way that I look at you.” You choke on your saliva. Were you really that open of a book? Surely, it was true, but you didn’t think you were that obvious.

Dokyeom. It’s weird how Seokmin is your supposed best friend and yet there was so much about him you didn’t know. There was something underlying that he was hiding, and you want to dig deeper. Who was Dokyeom as this version of himself that he never once shared before?

You clear your throat, warmth rushing to your cheeks. Wonwoo is rather bold. “Um, so… are you gonna teach me how to change my tire or what?”

Wonwoo knows he caught you in that moment, but he doesn’t pry for more. “Aight, well roll up your sleeves and let’s get our hands dirty, love.”

He shows you the compartment to find the spare and tools, the latch that you’ve always looked over is the one he pulls to expose another layer of your car. Was that what it was for? You sort of just threw your shit on top of it and hoped for the best.

“Here, you’ll find your spare tire. I highly recommend that you don’t just ride it forever just cause you got it on. It’s a spare, it’s temporary. Don’t ever use it for long, it’s not meant for it.”

There’s a long, metal tool he brings out that resembles a cross. “This is a wrench,” then he grabs an unfamiliar mechanism in the shape of a diamond with a flat top, “the jack,” and finally, he points to the tire that peeks out just barely. “Lastly, the tire. Kinda heavy, but I can help you—”

“I got it,” you state daringly, shoving him to the side.

He chuckles at your boldness with that look of veneration on his face like you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. “Okay, well, grab that—” Wonwoo gestures at the tire, watching carefully to make sure you don’t hurt yourself, “and just… lay it on the ground. And we’re gonna put the jack under the car.”

Oddly enough, Seokmin never really wanted to teach you how to change a tire. You’ve mentioned it to him once before—you found yourself on the side of the road on a highway, phone up to your ear as you frantically called your best friend to be your knight in shining armor.

And when he arrived twenty minutes after your cry for help, he slammed the car door behind him with that smug look on his face as he said, “You rang?”

But that was when he was more reliable.

These days, your calls are missed and you rarely see him as often as you used to. He’s so caught up in his new life, his career, and all the girls that you’ve only become a sliver of importance to him.

Somehow, you end up with a smear mark on your cheek from moving all the equipment around. Wonwoo thinks you’re cute like this; admittingly, you were just a girl he found attractive with an amusing attitude. But that night. That night the two of you exchanged numbers—it was the first time he ever met someone that tugged on his heartstrings in this way. How’d he get looped into talking to a girl over text for hours?

“Like this?” You query, looking up at him from below. The tire lock is fastened onto the lug nut of your rims with a socket wrench in your hand. “So, I just…”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo leans over, hand on yours as he shoves the head of the tire iron to fasten against the lock. “Then you just…” he drifts off, and instead of pushing you aside to do it himself as Seokmin would’ve, he guides you with his movements. Thrusting his weight and yours against the wrench, he turns it multiple times before the first one releases and drops onto the floor with a clank. “The first one is always hard because it’s anti-theft, but the other ones are a bit easier. If you can’t get it out, just… put your hands on the hood of the car and jump on it. Wanna finish it off?”

Clang. Clang. Clang. Clang.

Getting the lug nuts off was easier than you thought (were they on tight enough to begin with?) The tire tilts over to you, and you’re quick to catch it and set it aside. Wonwoo rolls the spare in your direction, watching as you puff your cheeks with a layer of sweat on your skin. You don’t seem bothered, despite the droplets that stream down the side of your neck, and he sort of expected you to confront him about this being a first date. Who takes a girl to learn how to change a flat for a first date?

Not many guys, that’s for sure.

With Wonwoo, he doesn’t act like a savior. When you’re struggling with pulling the tire off, he doesn’t come in and take over—he asks if you’d want his help, and when you’d reply with ‘no,’ he stays put.

“Okay, next, you should put the spare where you took off the flat. Then secure it with the nuts, and put the car down with the jack. You should be good to go after you use the wrench to tighten it some more.”

“Hold this for me,” you drop the wrench in his palms and he’s fast in abiding. Aligning the spare tire to the bolts, you mount them by tightening the lug nuts into their initial spots by hand. Finally, stepping back, you lower the vehicle with the jack as he advises, snatching the tool back as he snickers at how focused you’ve become.

You use all your strength—practically the entirety of your weight impeling into the wrench to secure the bolts in place. With a puff of exhausted air, you shove it back into Wonwoo’s hold. “Okay, done. Check it.”

He eyes you impishly, making his way to the spare that you proudly installed yourself, casually popping the head of the wrench to fit the lugs without much difficulty. Wonwoo does it with ease; everything happens so fluidly, from the way he checks the tightening of the lugs to the kick of the tire to see if it would slip out in any way. Your breath gets caught in your throat, a bit anxious of the results, but when he turns to you with a soft smile, your chest releases the tension.

“Wow, impressive for the first try. You sure you’ve never changed a flat before?”

“Promise,” you cheekily grin back. He’s sort of… cute. He reminds you of those flakey croissant pastries, expectant on the outside that the dish you pair with a cup of coffee would be just buttery. But taking in a bite, the strawberry jam spews from the insides, the fruit preserves leaving a candied taste on the tip of your tongue.

This was just part of the date, you soon learn, because after Wonwoo helps you wash your hands in the sink in his garage, he leads you behind the building where a field of green lies.

His auto shop was located on the borderlines of the city and the suburbs—just a couple blocks over, if you took a step to the left, you would’ve been on the outskirts of the city lines but one move to the right, you’ll find yourself in the heart of the crowd of skyscrapers. Farther back of the property, the dusty road fades into a green field (well, sorta. It’s got patches, definitely needs some TLC, but you digress), and although it’s not the prettiest with scattered pieces of car junk across the lawn, his setup that he has displayed makes it… cute. He’s got this red and white checkered blanket that lays on the grass, boxes of screws on either corners and a hammer thrown at the other.

You glance over at Wonwoo.

He’s quick to shove it off the blanket, dropping the wicker basket where the hammer once was.

“Were you premeditating a murder?”

“If the night doesn’t go well, maybe,” he jokes. “I’m kidding, I had a feeling it was gonna get windy and I didn’t want the two of us spending half the day trying to get the thing to stay still. I did it myself before you came.”

He’s kinda cute.

“I couldn’t dress as nicely, I realized I don’t think I own any pairs of pants without a grease stain on it,” Wonwoo admits apologetically, plopping down on the blanket in his raw hemmed black jeans and the short sleeve button up that he doesn’t bother actually buttoning up. Part of you is tempted to ask him if he bought those jeans like that or if he cut it himself (you think it’s the latter).

Seokmin always had a thing about his appearance. The cleaner and slicker you seem, the more name brands that decorate your clothing, and the type of vehicle you drive says a lot about you.

But to Wonwoo, it’s clear that those things don’t matter.

He’s not rich in terms of the money stashed in his pockets or the digits in his bank account, but his wealth resides within his personality and knowledge. As you slice off a piece of cheese to pair with your cracker and prosciutto off a charcuterie board he attempted to make (you give him props for this as he humbly mentions he gives all the credit to those moms on forum websites posting their recipes), you learn more as to why Wonwoo never went to college—both willingly and unwillingly. And yet, he harbors so much wisdom in terms of cars and racing, earning all your respect that he chose a non-traditional route and remains successful.

You recall that night over the phone how he wished he could go to college, but he doesn’t have the means to. Wonwoo dropped out of high school during his senior year, just months before graduating, and although he didn’t fully explain why, the admiration in your gaze when he mentions he’d gotten his GED several months ago is evident.

Wonwoo isn’t what you’re used to; growing up, it was established that you were to meet a man with a bachelor’s degree, and the bonus is if he obtains a master’s. When your hands are stained, whether it be grease from the stove, oil from a car, flour from dough, or paint off a canvas, it’s recognized as a labor intensive job and the more physical work you do, the less intelligent you are.

This was not the case.

Admittingly, he doesn’t know anything about kinematics or conservation of energy, but he knows what to do when your carburetor is failing or if your water pump leaks. Analyzing the works of Shakespeare or reading a novel without dozing off wasn’t quite his forte, but he’s better in other fields and there’s so much admiration for that. “I like jobs that give back to society,” he said that night, and it gifts you the perspective that there is more to the world beyond being employed at a corporate company. Wonwoo sets a different standard for you, but even on a sweet date like this where he’s pouring a glass of moscato for you as you watch the sun setting in the horizon… you can’t help but let your thoughts flood with Seokmin once again.

When Wonwoo’s eyes curl into moon crescents with a laugh so buttery and deep, you discern a lot more clearly how much Seokmin has a hold on you. A great guy sits before you and you can’t get your head unwrapped from Lee Seokmin.

“When’d you get into racing?” You ask, deciding that maybe if you get to know him better, you’d stop thinking about the guy who’d rather be at a rooftop bar downtown with a girl he just met fifteen minutes ago. “I’ve never seen you at any of the tournaments.”

“Mmm,” he hums, brushing his hands off each other from the crumbs. “About a month before that cup. One of the sponsors of the stadium saw me racin’ on the streets a couple months ago. Once he found my name, he got me a competitor’s license and forced me on the track. Said somethin’ like he’d help me pay for everything, including two months of mortgage on my shop.” Wonwoo shrugs, reaching over to grab another cracker from the bag. “Two months is a lot. Plus, if he’s paying for everything else and all I needed was a crew, not a big deal. It’s really just a money game.”

You purse your lips. “Any reason for him to want you to race?”

“It’s probably gettin’ boring watching Dokyeom win all the time.”

Oh. You never really thought of it like that. “But he won the circuit,” you clarify. “I don’t get it.”

He grabs a handful of the crackers and lays it across the wooden board for you, adjusting himself on the picnic blanket as he tilts his head to the side. “Yea, but I also came in second with milliseconds on the clock. Not to mention that this is the first of the series–I think they just want somethin’ new to the competition ‘cause there hasn’t been any fresh meat lately. Or, if there are any, they ‘un really last.”

You quirk a brow. “You’re not fresh meat–you raced on the streets.”

Wonwoo winks playfully. “You know that, but they don’t.”

There’s a lot to unpack–the recruiting of Wonwoo into an industry that he didn’t really see himself in, only to be lured to race with a bribe because it was getting boring to watch Seokmin win so frequently? You have a never ending list of questions, ones that Wonwoo couldn’t necessarily answer, but one you were suspicious enough to keep digging. But when Wonwoo lifts the honey dipper made of turned wood to collect the honey from the jar and onto your chunk of cheese, he says one last thing that erases all your curiosity.

“Dokyeom almost got a monopoly on stock car racing. No new consistent racers in the past two years entering this category, instead they’re headin’ off to Formula 1 or drag. They’re losing all potential new money ‘cause there’s nobody that can match his potential. Thinkin’ that the guy just wanted me there to get the ball rollin, let people know that it’s not impossible to beat the Lee Seokmin.”

Popping the piece of parmesan into your mouth, you roll your lips. “Well, you didn’t beat him either,” you tease, and he rolls his eyes with a smile tugging on the edges of his lips. He’s got the same sense of humor as you do, and he makes it a little hard not to get enticed by his charms. “So what of it?”

“I didn’t have to beat him, I just had to get close enough,” he grins. “Why? Are you not impressed that I didn’t beat him?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“Mm,” he nods slowly while feigning a frown. “Damn. Should’ve told me earlier, maybe I would’ve actually tried beating him then.”

How did this conversation end up looping right back into Seokmin when you asked to distract yourself from him?

“Do… Do you even like racing, Wonwoo?”

“Honestly?” he glances over at you before looking back at the sunset. The hues of warmth that radiate the ordinary star is a pretty sight as it shines on his face, and it’s evident why he’s enamored by many. “No. I like cars, and I love the speed, but I prefer being under the hood than behind the wheel. Knowing how the gears turn and what’s the reason for the black smoke and why your car stutters is more appealing to me than burning rubber on asphalt.”

“Hm,” you hum, remaining silent to bask in the fresh air. You say it often, but Wonwoo is…different. He indulges in the present moments in life; he doesn’t dwell on the past, in fact, he embraces it and learns from it. The type of person that travels with a loose agenda, a couple locations and hot spots in mind to touch, but never abiding by what’s written as if it’s set in stone.

He’s carefree. Flowing like linens hanging dry on the clothesline on a warm, breezy day.

“And what about you?” he asks, those chocolate swirling orbs just full of adoration and interest. Wonwoo looks at you in a way that you could only dream for Seokmin to do the same, but he’s slowly easing you into the idea of it being someone else. “Do you like cars? Racing?”

“Have you seen my car?” you laugh, quirking a brow. “To me, a car is just something that takes you from point A to point B. Otherwise, it means nothing to me.”

“Funny, isn’t it?”

“What is?” Tilting your head to the side, it’s your turn to gaze at him with intrigue.

“You just… see cars differently than I do,” he says with a soft smile. “It’s not bad, but it holds so many meanings for me, left core memories, and for you, you blatantly say that it’s a means of transportation.”

You feel bad for saying it like that but… it is just a car.

“It may seem like just a car,” he begins, and you think for a second that he reads your mind. “But every meaningful moment in my life had a car involved in it.”

Maybe Wonwoo has a point—it’s like how some people just view a croissant as just a flaky pastry you could have with coffee in the mornings or tea in the afternoons. But others, the aroma of freshly baked croissants imbues the kitchen, creating a wave of nostalgia sweeping over them. The residual butter left on their fingertips when they tear into the crisp, crescent shaped pastry is a sign that it’s been made with the utmost love, just as their elder relatives baked it.

“Do you have something like that?” It’s… a good question. Truthfully, you’ve never thought about that before, and maybe it’s from the way you live your life, but you’ve hardly stopped and just immersed yourself within a moment. “I… I don’t think I do. I’ve been so caught up in preparing for what’s next that it’s never crossed my mind.”

“Well,” he begins, taking a bite from a cracker. “Let that be something you figure out before the next time we meet.”

You quirk a brow in amusement. “You’re already thinking about another date?”

“Aren’t you?” He mimics your expression. “I thought you’re always thinking one step again. Unless, you don’t view me in that way and decide that there wouldn’t be a next time?”

There is definitely a next time.

Actually, there ends up being a lot of “next times.”

In fact, meeting with Wonwoo has become a routine.

There’s excitement that runs through your veins, similar to the adrenaline rush that Seokmin raves on about when he races, except this is simply because of your eagerness to see Wonwoo after work. Once the clock strikes five, your bag is already slung over your shoulder with the door shut behind you.

Some nights, you find yourself drowning in projects with deadlines, stuck in the four walls of your office that feel like they’re closing in. It’s suffocating—spending more than the required eight hours in what feels like an enclosed space, wishing that you could be anywhere else but there.

That is, until you and Wonwoo grew closer.

You never thought of yourself as someone who would find comfort in the sound of tools clanging against each other or on the concrete ground. Wonwoo likes to blast a mixtape he made back in high school—which basically was just a list of songs that you’d know the lyrics to because you used to have it on full volume with your whole emo getup back in your rebellious and angsty teenage years.

When you started to spend more time in his shop, he made a note to build a make-shift desk for you–yes, it was basically a tool cart with a long piece of a wood plank, but with the wheels locked, a swivel chair he used to run reports at his shitty computer (that was also on another tool cart) and a lamp he bought from Walmart (it has a pink base, he thought you’d like that), it felt welcoming. After a long day at the office with work still not done, this change of scenery is nice, especially since Wonwoo makes it crystal clear that he wants your company.

Some days are more uneventful than others, but nonetheless, they’re nice. You liked the calmness–there was something soothing about that roar of the engine when Wonwoo would lean into the open window to turn the key in the ignition for a test run.

Today, though, falls a bit outside of that placid routine.

You drop by, mostly because you’re bored and you don’t want to be alone in your apartment, plus it’s almost guaranteed that Wonwoo would be at the car shop (well, also because his place is literally… connected to it. You opened the wrong door trying to find the bathroom once, only to see this huge backroom that looked like a loft. Wonwoo loves work so much that he lives in it).

As you enter the garage, eyes glued to the screen of your phone, your car keys dangle from your fingers as you’re tapping away. “Do you wanna order dinner? I heard there’s this Chinese place a couple blocks down–they deliver so we can just call–”

“Ehem,” Wonwoo clears his throat, arms crossed over his chest. Attention now on him, that’s when you notice the other four men in the shop, casually sitting on the couch, leaning on a car, and standing beside Wonwoo. “Um, so these are my friends.”

Friends. Wonwoo introduces you to them; Mingyu, Minghao, Seungcheol and Vernon are their names, and from what you recall, they seem to have been the same guys that were on his crew back at the track. They’re all car guys, you learn, knowing Wonwoo from way back and it makes you wonder if they knew Seokmin–or well, Dokyeom–at the time but you don’t probe for more. If Seokmin wants to remain mysterious, then he can stay that way.

“So,” Mingyu, who is definitely over 6-feet tall, begins cheekily, pushing himself off the car. “Are you the reason why Wonwoo won’t come out with us to drink? We’ve been asking him for the past month to come out and he keeps giving us bullshit excuses.”

You blink blankly. Was… Wonwoo turning them down to see you?

“I’m sorry,” you turn to stare at Wonwoo for a brief moment before turning back to Mingyu. “Was… Was he doing that? I didn’t even know.”

“He must like you,” Seungcheol chimes in, snickering as Wonwoo smacks Seungcheol’s chest with the back of his hand. “What! I’m just sayin’. You never reject us. Except for that one time your mom came into town, but other than that, you’re basically always comin’ with us. Did a surprise drop by… lo’ and behold. Jeon here's got a girlie.”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes as he twists around to snatch a carton of cigarettes off the shelf of his supplies. “You came for the cigs, bro. Stop saying shit. You’re gon’ scare her.”

“Ohhhh,” Minghao chimes in teasingly. “So you care about what she thinks of you–thinks of us. That’s cute,” he hops up from the couch before coming over to you. “If Jeon gives you a hard time…” with a wink, he then gestures to the other boys to follow. “Just lemme know. Or any of them. We’ll be back around, so we’ll catch you later. Nice to meet you, cutie.”

When they leave, you’re left alone with Wonwoo once again.

“Am I holding you back?”

Wonwoo stares at you blankly with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the red tool cart roller. “Holding me back from what?”

You shrug, putting down your phone onto the make-shift coffee table (it’s just a creeper parked on a cardboard box). “I don’t know. They made it seem that way—I mean, we’re not really dating, so I feel bad if I’m… holding you back from anything. You should see your friends—whether or not we are together.”

“I can make that decision for myself,” Wonwoo shoots back, pushing himself up as he makes his way to the car in the garage. “They’ll see me around, not a big deal. And yeah, I’m down for Chinese. You tryna get me the vegetable lo mein?”

You eye him carefully. The thing with Wonwoo versus Seokmin is that he says it straight up—no hesitation, no crazy maze where you need to probe for clues to reach the end, and he doesn’t expect you to figure him out in a heartbeat. Wonwoo inspects your actions, and if you give it away that you don’t understand, he’s transparent with how he answers.

Wonwoo doesn’t feel like the game of cat and mouse.

“Do you want to share sweet and sour chicken and maybe some wings?”

“Of course. And make sure they have Coca Cola—not Pepsi.”

When you’re both sitting on his secondhand couch of the garage, utilizing one of the ULINE tool cabinets as a more sturdy table, there’s boxes of Chinese food that’s sprinkled all across. His carton of lo mein is now empty, remnants of the grease left on the sides with bits of bean sprouts too small to grab with his chopsticks and the bones of the chicken wings are left on those crappy napkins that you’d find in fast food joints and coffee shops, saturated in the oils and probably leaving marks on the cart. Wonwoo eats fast but he always stays seated until you finish your meal despite being done his.

He used to keep his garage cold, the overhead rolling door made of metal and not including much insulation from the weather outside, but ever since you’ve kept him company more frequently, he’s installed some ceiling mounted unit heater to keep the area warm. The humming of the machine is what breaks the silence between the two of you, but Wonwoo doesn’t fail to bring it up, nonetheless.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, brows furrowed in confusion. “You usually are babbling about your day right about now. Didn’t you and Sunny go shopping yesterday? She didn’t spill any gossip?”

You roll your lips. Are you normally that talkative around him? And if so, are you really that comfortable?

“Um, yeah, we did,” you begin, placing down your carton of rice. “And sorta. Not really. Mostly complained about work.”

He makes a sound by sucking in his teeth before sitting up to rest his elbows on his knees. “Alright, what’s up? Tell me.”

Normally, you’d just… tell the other person to let it go. Even with Seokmin, when he pries, you’re quick on your feet to tell him to ‘not worry about it’ and that ‘this unreasonable feeling will pass eventually.’

But Wonwoo is great at breaking barriers that you never thought you’d do.

Placing down your chopsticks, you let out a sigh along with the drop of your shoulders. “Okay, okay. I just feel bad. We’re not official—and that’s entirely on me, and I really do enjoy spending time with you—whatever this may be—but I also don’t want to be the one to hold you back on things like going out with your friends, meeting other girls, or just… I don’t know. Seeing those guys just made me think of that. I know that you might like me and—”

“Mm, hush.”

You blink blankly.

“Listen,” Wonwoo begins, hands together stiffly in semblance to this situation. “That’s on me too, right? I don’t think you’re leading me on, in fact, I think you’re establishing boundaries—like you are now. I went on a date with you, and it didn’t work. So be it. But—let’s make this clear, we are friends. I’m good with you coming over here whenever you want. And yea, I do like you. You gimme a lot of reasons to, but that don’t mean we can’t be friends. And if it makes you feel any better, I do hang with ‘em, they’re just bein’ dramatic because I spend my weekdays with you the most.”

“Oh,” you reply doltishly. “I didn’t think of it like that.”

“Well, start,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “Look, I know that you and Seokmin have these unspoken feelings and I’d rather you resolve them if you decide to take anything further. I’m cool with just chillin’ as friends, and we’re not doing anything wrong by it. I just may be a lil’ sweeter for you is all, only cause I got a crush. But my feelings aren’t hurt by it.”

This is… different.

Although you constantly say that Seokmin and Wonwoo are opposites (well, duh, they’re not the same person), it’s almost become repetitive and annoying how frequent you come to these “realizations.” Wonwoo has evidently seen a lot in his life, endured a lot, and due to that, he’s… emotionally mature.

As for Seokmin—well, need you say more?

Somehow, the end of the evening isn’t awkward. He makes you laugh with a story about how a client came over, exclaiming on the top of their lungs how the backseat wouldn’t prop itself up, only for Wonwoo to find the seat belt covering the opening that holds it up. Although it was very tempting to smack a $300 invoice to his customer, he chose the better route of just telling them upfront what the issue was.

Although he’s understanding, prioritizing the friendship he’s created with you, he doesn’t make it hard to consider him as more than a friend.

“Well, you look giddy.”

“Hmm?” You respond dumbly, looking up from your phone full of texts. Wonwoo ended up feeling bad that his friends thought he’d been neglecting them, so he agreed to go to a bar tonight with them and maybe hit a club afterwards–but that doesn’t stop him from constantly messaging you. “Me? Or Sunny?”

P flicks your hand. “You, you idiot.”

“Oh.”

Sunny snorts in amusement, placing another strip of meat onto the grill. It sizzles from the impact of heat and the fat content of the beef, steam filling the air for a brief second before the ventilator sucks it up. “You didn’t tell us about that date with Wonwoo. You dodged all the texts in our group chat.”

You shrug, grabbing the spare tongs to help Sunny add more meat onto the grate. “Um, because it’s kind of weird.”

P raises a brow. “And how is it weird? Was he strange?”

Sunny’s attention is off of cooking now, diverting toward you. “OMG. Did we make you go on a date with a weirdo?”

You glance over at the two. “Wait-what?” Pretending to resume to the grill, you poke a couple of the raw pieces that lay across with another set of tongs. “No, no. He… He’s honestly great. I haven’t felt that connection with someone in a while–he taught me how to install a spare tire–”

P blinks blankly. “He taught you how to change your spare? What kind of date is that?”

And for a moment, a wash of judgment appears across Sunny’s face but it softens when she finally realizes. “... Because you told him that Seokmin promised to come and “save the day,” didn’t you? Then Wonwoo probably thought for a first date idea… teaching you how to change a spare…”

Then it clicks for P; her shoulders loosen and fall when she’s aware of the meaning behind the date. “He… didn’t want you to depend on Seokmin anymore.”

Sunny frowns, flipping over the meat on the grill. “If that’s the reason… Why’s that weird? Sounds sweet. If anything, I kinda give him props for that. Did he at least take you out to dinner?”

You chew on your bottom lip. “Well, he made a whole picnic basket.”

Both Sunny and P glare at you. “And what’s wrong with that?”

“He’s… not Seokmin.”

Gross. It sounds pathetic leaving from your mouth.

The looks that Sunny and P give you are full of pity. How could you be so weak for a guy that doesn’t even respect you enough to hide when he has flings? Someone who claims that they’re yours, but they spent most of their time pursuing anyone but you. It’s a constant recurring thought, and the reminders are always smacking you in the face and yet, you’re here, sitting in front of your two best friends after going on a date with someone who could potentially give you the world and more yet Seokmin still remains on your mind.

“Listen,” P begins, placing down her chopsticks by the side of her plate. Sunny clears off the grill and lowers the fire, mimicking P’s actions with her tongs. “Sunny and I talked about this, and we realized that yes, although we really don’t support this unrequited love between you and Seokmin, it’s still your life and your choices to make. We want you to know that we’re by your side, and behind you through it all, even if you end up with Seokmin, but we’ll say this one last time.”

“We think you should move on, love.”

Your phone lights up beside you, Wonwoo’s name on display with the preview of his text. He asks if you like mint chocolate, a debate that he and his friends have had since God knows when, and it may determine if he wants to keep chasing you. When you unlock the phone, Seokmin’s chat is pinned to the top with your message being the most recent and sent two days ago. He just… disregarded the picture you shared of the two of you in college, his arm over your shoulders with smiles stretched across your faces.

“It’s… It’s hard,” you admit, and this time, it feels like the weight on your chest releases. “I think… I’d already had this idea that he and I would end up together engraved in my brain that I can’t seem to let go.”

“Well, how about this? You at least keep giving Wonwoo a shot if he does make you happy or if you’re even remotely interested. He seems sweet, and he also seems to know where you stand with Seokmin, which makes it easier to not have to explain to him the situation.”

You roll your lips. “I–Okay.”

Just then, your screen lights up again. Speaking of the Devil.

Wonwoo [11:54PM]: You can hold off on that political question for later. Since you’re still awake… my other friends wanna meet you. Wanna come out and grab a bite w us?

Quickly, you show your phone to the girls.

“Fuck yeah, tell them to come here,” P nearly shouts, and you hush her. “Forreal, give Wonwoo the address. We’ll get more chairs–switch tables if we gotta. I’m tryna see him in person.”

Sunny starts touching up on her makeup in her compatible mirror. “Get them to come! It shouldn’t be too far from where they are, right?”

It wasn’t.

In fact, Wonwoo and his friends were a couple blocks down–when you sent him the text of where you and your friends are, he eagerly sent a screenshot of Google Maps to show how close he was.

When they walk into the BBQ joint, it’s very hard to miss them. For one, you spot familiar faces—Mingyu, Minghao, Seungcheol and Vernon from the shop, followed by three other guys you never met personally before, but you remember them from Wonwoo’s pit before the tournament. It makes you wonder—did he just hire all his friends to be his pit crew members? And if he did, that’s… impressive. You don’t think you could name any of Seokmin’s friends that would spend their Saturday rushing to change his tires—not to mention that they probably aren’t even trained to do it.

Then, you spot Wonwoo. He pushes through the group, shuffling to see where you are, and when your eyes meet, his smile doesn’t fail to stretch across from ear to ear.

“Hey,” he says breathily, probably from all the shoving. “It’s… Good to see you. Kinda thought you were avoiding me after the mint chocolate question. It can be a touchy subject for some people.”

You let out a laugh; it’s so genuine and warm when it releases from your chest that it causes both P and Sunny to raise a brow at you before glancing at each other.

You’re different around him.

It’s so clear to both your best friends why Wonwoo is the choice you should make, and you’re displaying it right now. The comfortable body language, the laugh, and how you introduce them to him without any nerves. He’s so sweet when he offers to cook (only for one of his other friends to snatch the tongs from him with a hiss to take over, it’s still the thought and attempt that counts).

Wonwoo takes the seat next to you. Of course he does, he likes you, but there’s something inside of you that has trouble with swallowing that information. And truthfully? It wasn’t like you didn’t enjoy his company or want to reject his feelings—if anything, you’ve caught yourself imagining the what-ifs.

Then, Seokmin’s face shows up in those fantasies.

It’s a reminder of why you need a remedy for your lovesick symptoms, mostly because if a guy like Wonwoo is here with his rowdy friends, unable to keep his eyes that are full of adoration for you, then why would you waste your time with someone else right here?

You could… You could see yourself falling for Wonwoo. It’ll take time, that’s for sure, but you don’t think it’s impossible.

“How do you like your steak?” He asks, tongs in hand as he turns his head away from the grill to look at you. “Medium? Fully cooked?”

“Medium rare,” you answer, and Wonwoo serves you first before kindly asking the same question to your friends. P and Sunny are impressed, rolling their lips to suppress their giggles and teasing, wiggling their brows in your direction.

“So,” P begins, putting down her chopsticks. “We heard you’re a racecar driver.”

He chuckles, rubbing his nape awkwardly. “I–I wouldn’t necessarily say that. Was a temp thing.”

Seungcheol nudges Wonwoo. “Don’t act all humble. It’s aight to say it, you’re a racecar driver now. You got to compete with Kyeomie, I’d say you deserve the title.” He winks teasingly, but you know he says it to give Wonwoo the push he needs. Seungcheol naturally leads their group of friends; you’ve seen him gesture to Mingyu to grab the tongs and start cooking when he sees plates empty, tell Minghao to ask the server for more drinks when the liquid in the glasses get low, and even just now, when he encourages Wonwoo to be a little bolder. Wonwoo’s pit crew wasn’t just his “pit crew”... they’re his friends. You admire that.

The night runs smoothly. P and Sunny are so impressed and smitten with Wonwoo, constantly encouraging you to make moves on him. Quite frankly, you even… forgot about Seokmin for a moment.

That is, until your eye catches him entering the restaurant.

← last chapter | next chapter →

#seventeen #seventeen fics #dk x reader #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fanfic #dk fanfic

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heavenlyeros · 1 year

Photo

a nimbo render paintover! as an excuse to share rohan and nimbus references! for totally selfless purposes. not like i am desperate for more art of them or anything. of course.

this time i had patience to set up the lights in blender despite how long it takes for the preview to render every time because so much shiny metal... happy with how it turned out.

anyway,,,

putting all of these under the cut! this is a humongous post. i’m sorry. headsup there will be butt closeups

relevant note one: if you overlap the models, nimbus’ face neatly fits over rohan’s (though their eyes are lower since baby features). they are technically taller because their helmet forehead is larger. but nimbus’ heels sit higher from the floor in their shoes than rohan’s do, making nimbus a wee bit shorter than rohan actually. cute detail i enjoyed discovering!

that thing with the messed up texture on their shoulder is how the skyboard attaches. there’s a shot with it further down. nanite magic woo!

relevant note number two: nimbus here is missing their earrings. i couldn’t get the texture to show up and they looked super awk so i took them off. they look like this:

they are meant to be the same silvery material as the rest of the head and the inside glows like their neck details. i saw it fuchsia-ish in game, not sure if it changes.

love that neck window. for kisses.

thigh window!

back handle windows. there is a large gap in the middle between their back and the corset which you can kind of see here.

that waist-thigh ratio though... and the belly curve. ooft.

mandatory upnose shot!

how skyboard attaches (the folded skyboard model is so tiny... nanite magic!)

rohan time!! i love nimbus but rohan’s design is so gorgeous...

note the silvery ears. nimbus has them too under the helmet.

sir i am in love with you. how are you so handsome.

we like a moulded chest plate...

his back brace and thighs are thicc but he ain’t got any less cake than nimbo. promise.

relevant note number i forgor: the model wasn’t intended to be used for animation or seen in good lighting so the palms of his hands are the same colour as the rest of him. keep in mind to lighten them when you paint him <3 also whew aren’t those apple pie details breathtaking ...

he also has a kissy neck window but it is covered by his fancy half cape thing.

whew hopefully tumblr will not freak when i attempt to post this. i really hope these are useful to you, whether for fanwork purposes or for blorbo microwave rotation purposes! please enjoy <3

many thanks to the people over on the destiny model server for extracting them.

#nimbus #rohan #destiny lightfall #destiny the game #destiny 2 #destiny nimbus #destiny rohan #destiny #art refs #render #destiny references

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roosterforme · 1 year

Text

A Love You Don't Find Everyday Part 13 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You take Bradley's credit card with you to shop for honeymoon attire and decide to give him sneak previews along the way. Then, you make another video to ensure he's well entertained on his deployment.

Warnings: Smut, angst, fluff, and swearing

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

You were enjoying the most leisurely day, strolling around the mall completely solo. You'd sent Bradley off to play golf at seven o'clock with just a peck on the cheek, and then you'd gone back to bed until nine. Now you were sipping an iced coffee and eating a gigantic cinnamon bun, trying to psych yourself up to try on a bunch of lingerie.

There were some really beautiful things in the window display, and you definitely wanted to run up a large credit card bill for Bradley. But the fluorescent lighting in the fitting rooms always made you cringe. While you told him last night that you'd send him some photos today, you weren't so sure now. The idea of teasing him with some pictures of honeymoon lingerie where all of your imperfections were highlighted had you grimacing.

"Maybe it won't be so bad," you murmured to yourself as you tossed your trash and headed into the store.

Thirty minutes later, you had been set up in a fitting room with a plethora of things to try on. You ran your fingers along satin, lace and silk in every color of the rainbow, but especially a little heavy on the red.

"Okay. Showtime." You stripped all of your clothes off and tried not to look in the mirror as you pulled on a stretchy, red lace mini dress. "Holy shit," you muttered, finally looking in the mirror. Everything looked pretty good, even in the bad lighting. Bradley would probably love this one.

You snapped a few pictures and selected the best one, texting it to him before you could change your mind. You added the caption:

Let's play a game. Rate all of these on a scale of 1 to 10, and I'll buy some of your favorites.

As soon as you were fastening a black bra, he wrote back.

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: holy shit, i almost walked into a sand trap while i was looking at that. 10/10!

You laughed and added the first item to the keeper pile. Then you snapped a few shots of the black bra that you actually loved and could pair with matching crotchless panties. When you sent a photo and asked what he thought about that, you cackled when he responded.

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: 10/10! for the love of god, i need you to get that set. promise me right now.

You promised him you'd get it and added it to the keeper pile. When you sent a photo of a white bridal set complete with garters and stockings, he sent back a selfie of himself in the golf cart with his jaw hanging open and his eyes wide.

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: don't make me beg. i need to be able to take that off you. 11/10.

You were having so much fun with him, but you simply replied by reminding him to reapply sunblock. And then he wrote back begging for more pictures. You tried on one set in both purple and red and asked which one he liked better.

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: red. always red. but get the purple too. does it come in other colors? 12/10. you are killing me here. gotta play six more holes with my dick kinda hard.

You decided to take photos of everything else you were trying on, and send them sporadically throughout the rest of the afternoon while he and the guys were out drinking. You took the massive pile of things you and he both liked to the register, along with something special for tonight.

"Wow, you found a lot today!" said the cashier and you just laughed.

"It's mostly for my honeymoon."

"Congratulations! I guess you don't plan on leaving the hotel room with your spouse at all?" she asked with a grin.

You pressed your lips together before muttering, "That's the plan."

She snorted and told you about the boutique website where you could order personalized items as well. "Here, I'll give you a free shipping code. Your total is one thousand two hundred and twenty seven dollars."

You handed her Bradley's credit card with a satisfied smirk. If he wanted you to run up his credit card bill with this stuff, you'd add some personalized items when you got home and make it even worse.

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

Bradley felt overstimulated and twitchy. You were an absolute menace, sending him photo after photo all day long. You were wearing bras that showed everything. You were wearing sheer dresses that hugged your curves. You were wearing panties that showed off your tattoo. He saved each new image as they arrived, already thinking about using them to jerk off while he was deployed in a few weeks.

"Why are you so distracted?" Jake asked as Bradley saved a photo of you wearing a red string bikini with the side tied above your tattoo. "Oh, Angel's sending you porn."

Bradley hid his phone screen and glared. "It's not porn," Bradley said, glancing at the photo again. The top was barely covering your nipples. He licked his lips and said, "It's just a bathing suit."

"That looked like less than a bathing suit," Jake replied, switching out his five iron.

"Stop looking at it!" Bradley grunted.

"Stop looking at what?" Payback asked, adjusting his gloves.

Jake nodded toward Bradley's phone. "His girl sent him dirty photos."

"Lucky," echoed Fanboy, Coyote and Payback in perfect unison.

"They are not dirty photos. She's out shopping," he said, not sure what he was trying to defend here. You were about to become his wife. You loved each other. Nothing was actually inappropriate. "You know what, yeah. She's sending me dirty photos." All the guys put their fists out for a fist bump, except for Bob who was blushing and rummaging around in his golf bag looking for his putter.

"Come on, Bob," Payback called. "This is fist bump worthy!"

Bob just shook his head. "Don't you guys remember when she yelled at us for being crude? She literally lined us up in their living room and ripped us apart. I'm showing nothing but respect."

"Oh shit, I remember," Coyote said. "It's why we're all jealous of Rooster. She's protective."

Bradley just grinned and passed out some cans of beer for them to all drink during the end of their round of golf.

"Eighteenth hole," he announced, tucking his phone away. "Then bar hopping."

The guys all cheered and headed toward the tee.

And this was precisely why Bradley had always preferred to hang around with Nat. Because even when he was just hooking up with women, back before he met you, he never liked the banter and always tried to keep things like this private.

Bradley played the last hole terribly as you sent him another photo of you wearing a few scraps of black fabric with garters while he was trying to putt. You were so pretty, bright eyes looking at the camera as if you were really looking at him. He wanted to skip out on the afternoon of drinking, but he knew the guys would never let him live it down.

So he told you he would be home after they went to the steakhouse for dinner, and you told him not to rush. Apparently you had some online shopping to do.

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

You were going way overboard now with Bradley's credit card, but you couldn't help yourself. This website had the most adorable satin underwear that you could personalize with anything you wanted. You were up to five pairs in your shopping cart and counting. Your favorite ones were going to be embroidered with Daddy's Baby Girl. You even decided to get a blue thong with Mrs. Bradshaw across the front to go under your wedding dress, even though you weren't sure about changing your name yet.

You yawned and figured you should probably do something with your day besides shop for expensive underwear. So you took Tramp for a walk to the bay, emailed your wedding photographer, did some meal prepping, and made yourself a grilled cheese sandwich doused in hot sauce for dinner. Then you carefully hand washed some of your new lingerie and set aside the items you were going to wear tonight.

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: i'll be home soon, baby girl. jake's dropping me off

You quickly got changed into the pastel pink bustier and matching thong and pulled your jeans back on. With a grin, you decided the bustier could pass for a top and just left your outfit at that. Tramp started barking as Jake pulled into the driveway, and a moment later, Jake was following Bradley inside.

"I told you to reapply sunblock!" you said immediately, taking in both sunburned men. "You guys look like lobsters."

Bradley wrapped his arms around you and started kissing your neck. "It's just a little pink," he insisted, running his fingers along your top and smiling. "You look pretty."

"And you look sweaty and smell like cheap beer."

"You love cheap beer," Bradley insisted, making you laugh.

"How much did you drink?"

He nodded his head and sighed. "Plenty. But I'm fine, Sweetheart."

Jake walked past and messed up your hair on his way to the kitchen. "I'm just getting some water and then I'm leaving," he insisted. "I can tell the Bradshaws need some time alone."

"Never stopped you from hanging around and being annoying before," Bradley told him as he looked down at your chest with interest. "Did you buy this today?" he asked softly. "You must have. I know your inventory by heart."

You nodded. "Do you like it?"

"Mmhmm."

"Feel like making another video?"

"Hell yes."

"Go get in the shower, Roo."

You watched him dash into your bedroom just as Jake walked back out of the kitchen with a water bottle. "I'm not gonna stay, Angel," Jake drawled, taking a sip of water. "Just wanted to say you looked real nice in that red bikini," he said, ducking out of the way of your hand aiming to smack him.

"How did you see it?" you asked, pushing him toward the front door while he howled with laughter.

"He had his phone out all day, mooning over the smut you were sending him! It was right there on the screen!"

"Go away. Goodbye. Thanks for driving Bradley home. See you on Monday," you said, pecking him on the cheek before shoving him out the door.

By the time you got to your bedroom, Bradley was walking out of the ensuite with a towel wrapped around his waist. He was sunburned and tipsy and so endearingly adorable, you started giggling.

"My phone battery is almost dead, Baby Girl. Please tell me yours is good to go," he said, leaning against the doorframe, looking at you with one eyebrow raised.

"Yep, My phone is good to go. Are you good to go, Roo? I can't tell if your cheeks are rosy from the sunburn or the drinks," you said, teasing his abs with your fingers.

"I'm always good to go for you," he promised, and you knew it was the truth.

You unwrapped the yellow towel from his waist and licked your lips at the sight of him half hard. "Go get in bed," you whispered, and he was on his way. He watched you shimmy out of your jeans and grab your phone. You crawled up the bed next to him and whispered, "You want me to be your bratty little slut again tonight? Or are you going to be my Daddy?"

He pulled you close and kissed you. "I get to choose?"

"Yeah," you told him with a wink. "A special treat to take on your deployment."

He was rubbing his hands along your bustier and down over your butt. "Well, I already have a video with my bratty little slut," he said, and you watched his cock jump against his thigh. "Daddy wants to play tonight. You look like a little princess in this color."

You moaned against his mouth. "Sounds good to me," you said, fiddling with your phone and letting him hold it as he started recording you. You watched Bradley grin as he pushed your underwear aside a bit to record you shaking your hips with your tattoo exposed. "Did you just call me a princess?"

"Yeah," he grunted as you wrapped your hand around his length. "Daddy's little princess, all pretty in pink."

For a moment you marveled over the fact that you had an easier time slipping into the role of a bratty little slut. But after a moment of wiggling yourself along his body, you thought you had the hang of Daddy's princess.

"Daddy, I had such a long day," you said, a whine tingeing the edges of your voice as you straddled his lap and ran your fingers along your lace and satin covered torso. "I am exhausted from spending your money."

Bradley groaned softly, setting goosebumps loose across your skin. "Tell me what you bought, Princess," Bradley instructed, grinding his cock against the front of your panties. He ran his thumb along your bottom lip, parting them and coaxing you to lick the tip. "And then tell Daddy he's allowed to do whatever he wants with you."

You sucked on his thumb. Bradley was the hottest thing in the world. As you listed off some of the things you bought with his credit card, Bradley gently wrapped one hand around the front of your neck and then pulled the pink fabric of your underwear to the side, letting his cock glide through your wetness. You only briefly recognized that he had propped your phone up to record everything before you got lost in him completely.

"And how much of my money did you spend, Princess?" he asked, his raspy voice making you even wetter as he licked his lips.

"Two thousand dollars," you gasped as his big hand slipped lower on your neck and trailed over the tops of your breasts.

He tsked with his tongue and shook his head. "That's not enough."

"I was supposed to spend more?" you asked, your voice breaking as Bradley slipped his cock inside you. He yanked you closer with his fingers on the back of your neck, and you gasped as he started kissing you.

"You were supposed to spend all of it. Why does Daddy even work, other than to pamper you, Baby Girl?" You squeezed around his cock just at the mere implication of his words.

"Are you going to take care of me forever?" you asked softly against his lips as you rode him slowly. He responded by swiping his tongue deep into your mouth and making you moan.

"As long as you take care of Daddy."

You were whimpering now as your clit was grinding against him with each movement.

"You can have anything you want," you promised him. And you felt it before you saw it. Bradley ripped the crotch of your pretty, new underwear to get full access to your pussy. He was suddenly fucking up into you hard, the veins in his neck and forehead prominent against his slightly sunburned skin.

"Oh my god!" you hissed, surprised by what he had done.

But no sooner had you recovered before he was smacking your thighs gently and saying, "Up. Turn around and get on all fours."

You did as you were told, watching his wet length slide out of you, wishing you were allowed to lick him. But that's not what Daddy wanted.

When you were on your hands and knees in front of him, he pushed your face down against the bedding before kissing and licking all along your wet slit and rear end from behind.

"You didn't listen, Princess," he said before lapping his tongue against you. "Gotta spank you."

He landed one hard slap on your butt before you could even respond. "Daddy," you whined as he spanked you again and again. You felt feverish with need while he spanked you and scolded you for not spending enough money on honeymoon attire. You were clenching around nothing as he told you to go back to the store and replace the underwear that was now just a piece of elastic around your waist.

He spanked you harder as he said, "If you're my Princess, you can have anything you want."

"I want you to fuck me!" you almost screamed as his hand landed on you again. But you knew he wasn't going to do that yet. Rather he lightly spanked your pussy from behind, his fingers hitting your wet clit as you whined.

Then he shoved two long fingers deep inside you without warning and leaned up to press his lips to your neck right below your ear. You almost cried when he whispered, "What's my name?"

"Daddy!" Your broken yell filled the room. "I want you to fuck me, Daddy!"

His cock replaced his fingers immediately, and he fucked you hard, your cheek pressing into the bed. But the spanking only paused momentarily. He grabbed you around your waist with his left hand, getting a handful of you just below your bustier while he landed a stinging slap on your already overworked skin. All while slamming into you.

"You didn't do what Daddy wanted."

"Please." You were almost crying, and you wanted to cum so badly. "I'll do whatever you want."

"You go back to the store and spend more money. I want you wearing something new for me each day on our honeymoon. No exceptions."

You tried your best to verbally agree with him, and soon he wrapped his fingers around to tease your clit instead of spank you. With just a few swipes of his talented fingers, you came hard, a few of your tears trailing along your nose to the bedding.

The familiar sound of Bradley cumming inside your pussy had you smiling at last as he filled you up. He wrapped both arms around you and yanked you up flush against his chest. "You really are Daddy's little Princess, Baby GIrl."

You moaned softly as he kissed along your bare shoulder. "Occasionally I'm your bratty little slut."

"I love you," he promised, and he let you lay against him as he eased back against the pillows, his cock still buried inside you.

"My ass is throbbing, Roo," you whispered with a soft laugh as he ran his mustache along your neck.

"But you did so good. I'll get you in the bath in a minute, Sweetheart."

You just relaxed back into his embrace while he touched and kissed you. "I hope you enjoy that video while you're deployed." You kissed along his tattoo and ran the tip of your nose across the pretty script writing.

"I can guarantee I will," he promised, finally reaching for your phone to end the video.

You turned and smiled at him when he said, "And now I have several minutes of us cuddling together to watch as well. I might watch that part the most."

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

Bradley scooped you up and carried you to the bathroom, setting you on the edge of the tub while he got the water ready for you. He wasn't kidding; he'd always do his best to take care of you and give you anything you wanted. Because you tried to take care of him, too. And you were really all he wanted.

"Climb in, Sweetheart," he whispered, and he watched you unfasten what was left of that sinfully hot lingerie and sink into the water. "I'm sorry I ripped your underwear."

You started laughing as you turned to look at him. "You're not sorry!"

He grimaced. "I'm a little bit sorry. Buy a new one. You still have my credit card." He knelt on the floor next to the tub and helped you get settled.

"I'll buy a new one next week when I go back to the store to ensure I have something new to wear for all ten days of our honeymoon. Daddy told me I had to."

Bradley actually felt himself blushing. He liked it when you called him that even when it wasn't exactly part of foreplay or bedroom activities. You were making him feel so substantial in your life.

"Roo, next weekend is Halloween," you whispered as he sat on the floor and watched you wash your arms while Tramp curled up in his lap. "Gotta start planning our party."

"We're really having it? I thought maybe you brought that up just to distract Cam and Maria from the wedding conversation?" he absentmindedly stroked Tramp's ears, completely mesmerized by you.

"We're really having it. And I know just what our costumes can be," you said with a playful look in your eye.

"Tell me," he whispered, leaning toward you and kissing your nose.

"Well... I think you can get away with wearing part of your dress whites for your costume..."

He smiled. "Okay, sounds good so far. I love it when you take my uniforms off of me. But what's your costume?"

You just chuckled and said, "Oh, you'll like it. And it comes with three wishes for me to grant for you."

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

Making another video....oof, I love them. Happy Halloween? Any costume guesses?

PART 14

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster x female reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster x reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine

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saunne · 5 months

Text

HSR THEORIES - PENACONY ANALYSIS

I guess I'm late to the game, but I'm normally a lore gremlin for Xianzhou lore, not Penacony lore. Anyways, don't expect something very elaborate, but you'll be able to find :

Reflection on the period based on history (Penal Colony)

Reflection on the period based on fashion (NPC in trailers)

Reflection on the period based on architecture (Art Deco)

Reflection on the period based on cultural shift (Railway Mania, Department Stores)

Reflection on lore based on Literature (Jules Vernes, Herman Melville)

Reflection on lore based on Philosophy (Idealism, Utilitarianism, Transcendental Idealism)

Everything under the cut as always since I tend to babble.

The name "Penacony" possibly comes from the phrase "penal colony".

I'm certainly not the first to make the connection, but "Penal Colony" inevitably brings to mind Australia. This idea of "Space Australia" is also reinforced by the names for the characters we know at the moment, with a very clear English etymology : Sunday, Robin, Gallagher, Firefly.

The use of Australia as a "penal colony" by England took place after the American War of Independence, so we start with a period around 1780 to ~1870.

youtube

We didn't get to see a lot of NPC outfits in this very short clip, but what little there is could actually correspond to a period like this. However, we had a little more hints in Honkai Star Rail - Penacony Trailer | Game Awards 2023, where we see Acheron at the reception of the Reverie hotel :

This NPC in particular is interesting, because of her gloves. It's called "evening gloves" or "opera gloves". They were popular during the Napoleonic period (1800-1825) but were also very fashionable in the last two decades of the 19th century, i.e. 1880-1900 and before WWI, i.e up to 1910.

In terms of temporality, it is also important to note what concerns the architecture of Penacony.

It was noted on Reddit that the style of architecture could be reminiscent of the French Art Deco style, an architectural movement predominant in the 1910s to 1920s. Art Deco is said to have represented "luxury, glamour, exuberance, and faith in social and technological progress", so quite fitting for Penacony. Key features were : geometric/sleek designs, bold colors, luxurious materials, things that we find in the previews.

We'll have to wait to see more from Penacony, but it might be interesting to see if there is also any inspiration from the previous movement, Art Nouveau 🤔

Another architectural thing :

Look up and see the metal tracks crisscrossing the skyscrapers and the Spheroids rapidly rolling along them. They are the most visible means of transportation in this dreamscape metropolis and guide guests to each and every place around the city. [x]

This part about the Spheroids is interesting, because during this period (starting from 1825, with a peak in the 1840s), there was in France and England what we called the Railway Mania.

This is a point of interest because the Railway Mania saw the the arrival of the railroads in Paris. When it happened, this caused another major cultural shift : the rise of Department Stores. There is even a well-known french novel on the subject, called Au Bonheur des Dames (The Ladies' Delight) by Emile Zola.

The end of the 19th century is also the period of birth of modern advertising and given the number of things that we see plastered all over Penacony, I think I can say that we are on the right track/period.

So, in terms of rough "era", we can go from 1780 to ~1920, so mostly the 19th century (1800-1900).

Speaking of period culture and Penacony in general, we currently have a Relic Set which I will use for the rest of the post: Penacony's Dream-Seeking Tracks

Opening a window no longer show a view of the stars in the deep sky, but of the city's shifting streams of light and shadows, holding up the constant echoes of giant clocks and theaters.

Okay, let's start with some details that I only noticed because I come from a literary studies background. I'm not going to lie to you, it's far-fetched, but stay with me, I promise it's interesting.

Giant clocks and theaters made me think "steampunk" works, whose setting are often set in an alternative history of the Victorian era (~1837 to 1900, so right in our period). One of the pioneering writers of the genre, “proto-steampunk” so to speak, is Jules Vernes, considered one of the "father of science fiction".

Remember Spheroids ? : "Spheroids are regarded as both vehicles and as toys in the land of dreams. However, few remember that the Spheroids are actually imprisonment cages — the vehicle towards dreams are tools originally used for locking up prisoners."

One of Jules Vernes' best-known novels is Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Seas, a science-fiction aventure novel the majority of which takes place aboard the Nautilus, a submarine belonging to Captain Nemo. And interesting thing, "he also tells his new passengers that his secret existence means he cannot let them leave — they must remain on board permanently" ; They are prisoners in the Nautilus.

On another point, Jules Vernes is also considered as having had a strong influence on the surrealist movement "in which artists depicted unnerving, illogical scenes and developed techniques to allow the unconscious mind to express itself. Its aim was, according to leader André Breton, to "resolve the previously contradictory conditions of dream and reality into an absolute reality, a super-reality", or surreality"." Quite fitting for our dream planet.

For the next one... Well. I have no excuse for this one, it's even more far-fetched. But so, we remain in the literary universe.

The water from the spring turn into a giant whale and swim through the halls.

Giant whale made me think of one thing almost immediately : Moby Dick, by Herman Mellville, published in 1851 (once again in our era of interest). Moby Dick is a "sea novel" centered around the figure of the hunt of a whale. It's main themes are the limits of knowledge, fate and free will, nature and man, race, fellowship, and enslavement, madness and religion [x].

I wont copy and paste the whole shtick but I send you check again The Family description from the Data Bank.

With that, we're done with literature... so it's time to move on to something else wonderful and terrible, the greatest enemy of my high school years (when you have to do it for 8 hours a week, it quickly becomes tiring), I named: PHILOSOPHY.

For a transcendent experience, for an inspirational excitement, for the soothing of worries and wounds — guests of the highest caliber come to surrender their pain in exchange for peace and tranquility

I'm not going to dwell on that for too long, quite honestly. I'll just... put that here for you to do whatever the fuck you want with it.

Idealism : "Idealism in philosophy, also known as philosophical idealism or metaphysical idealism, is the set of metaphysical perspectives asserting that, most fundamentally, reality is equivalent to mind, spirit, or consciousness; that reality is entirely a mental construct; or that ideas are the highest form of reality or have the greatest claim to being considered "real"

At some unknown point in time, the small cells cut off access to reality, but people's consciousnesses became linked in dreams. In the midnight bell, that shared dream seemed so real, reflecting the sheer hypocrisy of reality.

Utilitarianism : "a family of normative ethical theories that prescribe actions that maximize happiness and well-being for the affected individuals. In other words, utilitarian ideas encourage actions that ensure the greatest good for the greatest number."

Those who follow the "Harmony" Path admire understanding, support, and cooperative behavior.

In addition to all previously "said", one of the greatest thinkers of the time, who is also the one at the origin of the definition of transcendent, is Immanuel Kant. His best known work is Critique of Pure Reason (1781), with which "he aims to reach a decision about "the possibility or impossibility of metaphysics".

Metaphysics "is the branch of philosophy that studies the fundamental nature of reality. This includes the first principles of: being or existence, identity, change, space and time, cause and effect, necessity, actuality, and possibility."

This work was the founding work of a philosophical doctrine known under the name of Transcendental Idealism. I'll spare you the convoluted explanations but look at that :

The scenery gradually becomes more and more incredulous, and the senses feel as if one has been lifted by silk. [...] The guests finally realize that they were never awake, but are instead witnessing Penacony's true nature in a dream — a place where time stops in a neverending dreamscape.

"Kant means that his philosophical approach to knowledge transcends mere consideration of sensory evidence and requires an understanding of the mind's innate modes of processing that sensory evidence".

"Kant outlines how space and time are pure forms of human intuition contributed by our own faculty of sensibility. Space and time do not have an existence "outside" of us, but are the "subjective" forms of our sensibility".

#hsr #honkai star rail #penacony #hsr penacony #honkai star rail theory #hsr 2.0

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shae-mermaid · 23 days

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Part 1 of my very FIRST fic EVER!

Part 2!! | Part 3!!! | Part 4!!!! | Part 5!!!!! | Part 6 (FINALE)!!!!!!

A/N: This doesn't even have a proper name yet, and I'm writing it on a whim, but I'm curious (and honestly hopeful) to see some possible interest in this from more than just me, before I try to post it to AO3...

Update: I've posted it on AO3, under the title "You Are A Queen". My username is shae_mermaid, if you're interested in subscribing for any other Hazbin fics I may make in the future~

Critique is encouraged, but just try to be polite about it please! <3

TW/CW: mentions of s*****e, but not in this preview, so all is well...for now. (Tell me if there's anything I should've warned about that I missed! Sorry in advance!!)

HAZBIN HOTEL ONE-SHOT

(Lucifer x plus sized fem! reader)

You had been in Hell for not even a day, waking up in a daze, and for a second, thinking you were still living. Then, realization and dread set in.. You look down to see your arms and hands, a seemingly unnatural shade of blue, in contrast to the overwhelmingly red palette of this place. And… were those scales?! Great, you thought, I’m a fuckin’ lizard or something. But then you took a closer look at your hands. You spotted fins, in between your fingers. That actually got you a tiny bit excited, honestly. Fish were something you were fascinated by in life. But, your train of thought came to a crashing halt when you heard a deafening explosion close behind you. Well, more like above you.

You were terrified, to say the least. Woken up in the middle of the street to what you only assumed was some kind of turf war, hearing lots of blood curdling screams running past you as a building started to collapse, with fire quickly eating up the building.

The person (or,rather, half-demon) who had swooped in to your rescue, was none other than Charlie Morningstar, but you didn’t know, nor care in the moment. All you knew was that the next second you’re being scooped up, white-knight style into the woman’s limo. But, after that initial rush, and looking back on it, you were glad she saved you, and to have met her as soon as you did. Otherwise, you weren’t sure how long you would’ve survived out there. But with a quick knock to the dividing window, signaling the driver to go, you all zoomed out of there just in time, before a grenade that was thrown a second before blew up near you all, too close for comfort.

Charlie was too excited to dive right in and go on and on about her newly renovated passion project to even remember to properly introduce herself and her girlfriend, Vaggie, who had to remind her to do so by placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. After that, Charlie finally slowed down just enough to shake your hand vigorously and introduce them both.

You finally introduced yourself to them, and the conversation flowed surprisingly well throughout the ride back to the hotel. You told them a little about your previous life on Earth, leaving out some embarrassing parts and dark parts, like how you came to be down here.

You mostly lived a quiet life, being the child of two avid, eternally committed churchgoers, who also happened to both be musicians. Your mother played piano, while you and your father would sing and help lead the congregations in singing hymns. At least, that’s how you lived your life in youth.

You conveniently left out a few details, like how later on in life, you started resenting your parents’ wishes a bit. They always knew that you hated performing in front of people, having one of the world’s worst cases of stage fright. Not only that, but also the fact that you were always (and, judging by your ever-present tummy, forever will be) a chubby person, which you felt only made you a target for your peers to throw all manner of cruel words at. Your mother stubbornly kept insisting though, saying “A gift like yours shouldn’t be wasted!” and “Use your talents to praise Him!”. A lot of good that did.

Thankfully, Charlie and Vaggie never seemed curious enough to ask how you died. That was a subject even you hesitated to think about. No, Charlie got so excited when she heard that you sang, asking if she could hear you sing something for everyone sometime. You had to politely and shyly decline, saying that that part of your life was over (literally), much to her dismay. You immediately felt the usual guilt-trip your mother often gave you, creep up on you, making you backtrack a little, giving her a hesitant “maybe,” if others would join you. She squealed in response, hurting yours and Vaggie’s ears a bit, saying that she’d love to, if you’re ever feeling the inspiration and confidence to.

Then she went on a tangent on maybe making another lesson plan about gaining confidence through positive thinking, to which you barely listened. Your “people-ing battery”, as you so accurately called it, was just about out at this point. So you just nodded and hummed a quiet response, while sneakily watching Pentagram City go by from the window. You also started wondering how Vaggie could still hear, from how often her partner surely made such noises.

You all finally made it to the hotel, with Charlie starting the tour off by introducing the few people that were hanging out in the lobby and bar area. First, her business partner, Alastor. He gave off the vibe of a gentleman. An old-fashioned and frankly creepy one, but a gentleman nonetheless.

“Why hello there, Y/n! Pleasure to be meeting our newest guest, quite the pleasure!” he said in his radio filtered voice, as you both shook hands. You noticed that he wiped his hand off on his coat immediately afterwards. Rude, you thought, so you subtly responded by doing the same, which he narrowed his eyes at, giving you the impression that he’s always gonna be watching. With that creepy and obviously fake smile on at all times. You made a mental note to be veeeery cautious around him…

Charlie started to sense that there was the tiniest bit of tension in the air between you two, so she gently put a hand on your shoulder and grandly gestured at the incredibly lanky spider demon sitting at the bar, and the frankly unamused and tired cat/bird demon behind the counter. “This Angel, our very first guest, and of course Husk, our Bartender!”

Husk just responded with a two fingered salute and a quick “Yo,” while Angel temporarily put his work attitude back on and playfully greeted you with a “Hey, gorgeous! Nice to meet ya!”, which honestly made your cheeks tingle a little from a small blush of embarrassment..

Charlie starts to announce “Everyone, this is Y/n. Our newest guest!”, to which you give out a shy “Hi,” using what you call your sweetheart voice, and awkwardly wave at everyone.

Suddenly, you see a blur zooming up to you and spiral up your body, until you finally see the face of a tiny cyclops lady with an adorable 1950’s style poodle skirt and apron on. Honestly, you froze like a deer in the headlights as soon as you felt the frenzied crawling, but that didn’t make you half as tense as her sharp-toothed, crazy big smile did. Hers is almost as bad as Alastor’s, you thought.

Charlie let out an awkward laugh while Alastor grabbed the little thing, basically using his claws like tweezers picking up a bug. “Oh! I almost forgot! This is our maid, Nifty!”

Almost as if Alastor had switched her crazy side off as soon as he picked Nifty up, she put on a deceivingly innocent, almost cute smile while she was dangled in the air in front of you, giving a very childlike “Hi!!,” with a small wave back before proceeding to wiggle like crazy, prompting Alastor to just drop her on the floor. You almost said something in protest as she fell face-first onto the floor, but you stopped when you immediately heard her shout “YAY! PAIN!”, then scurry off up the stairs, as if nothing had happened. You could tell she might provide some much needed entertainment when you’re bored.

“We’re about 80% sure she’s harmless,” Charlie said to you in a hushed tone, only then remembering what her little friend did to Adam in the last extermination. “Ok, maybe 75%. But that’s still good!”

You let out a small chuckle at that comment, as Charlie smiles at you and breathes out a long exhale, reassured that she was doing well and that you felt comfortable. She, Vaggie, Alastor, and you, all gave a final wave goodbye to Angel and Husk as Charlie told them “We’re going to show Y/n around a little more, then take her to her room. See you guys in a bit!”, as she grabbed you and Vaggie’s wrists to pull you both up the stairs, so incredibly eager to show her newest guest around her new home. Alastor calmly followed suit as you all disappeared up the stairs.

The rest of the tour was just a lot of repetition, to be honest. Most of the floors looked practically identical.That is, until Charlie and Vaggie guided you all to the top floor. You saw a red door slightly ajar right across from the stair landing. “This is Vaggie and I’s room!” she said, then quieting down as soon as she heard a timid little “mew!” from inside her room. “Oh! I guess she wanted to make an appearance too,” she said, slowly opening the door a little more to reveal an adorable little cyclops tuxedo cat, rubbing up against everyone’s legs. “This is Kee-kee,” she said with an awkward giggle. “My cat. I’ve had her since I was young. My dad created her.”

Your eyes lit up like fireworks were going off! You adored animals, especially cats. Your shy demeanor immediately turned to poorly-contained excitement, gasping at the site of her confidently walking towards you all. “Hi there!”, you say as you kneel down and reach out your hand, offering her an up-turned palm to sniff. She just ends up looking at you weird for a second, then cautiously head-butts your hand, with you starting to give her little scritches, exhaling a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. “I didn’t know there were actual animal-animals down here!”

Charlie giggled a little, “You’ll be surprised by a lot of things in your time here.”

“You should see Angel’s pig sometime,” Vaggie chimed in.

Your eyes lit up once more, your head snapping in Vaggie’s direction. “THERE’S A PIG?!”

Now, that got Charlie and Vaggie laughing more naturally. “We can have a little pet show-and-tell sometime, if everyone’s up for it,” Charlie went on to say.

You eagerly nod your head in agreement, standing back up before twisting your gaze to either end of the hallway. On one end, a dark red (almost black) door, and the other, a white door with red and gold filigree along the edges.

“Oh, those are Alastor’s and my dad’s rooms,” Charlie said. “I’m surprised my dad hasn’t shown up yet.”

“Probably off doing his job, babe,” said Vaggie.

“‘Bout time,” you heard Alastor say under his breath. You give him a sideways glance, quickly looking away as soon as he looks at you. You have slightly better hearing than the average person. A blessing and a curse, really.

Charlie sighed. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Probably lots of work to catch up on from the past few years.” She sounded a little down and frustrated about it, until Vaggie gingerly took Charlie’s hand in hers. “I know you just got here, so just to let you know, my dad’s the King,”

It takes your brain a second to catch up and process. “Wait. Does that mean your dad’s literally SATAN?!”

Charlie laughs again. “No. Satan’s one of my uncles, and ruler of an entirely different ring,” she paused a second. “My dad’s name is Lucifer.”

Your eyes went wide. You couldn’t help but picture some huge, burly old man with a smile even creepier than Alastor’s, if that’s at all possible.

“I know what you’re thinking, and he’s NOT like that! At all!” Charlie said, making a sweeping X motion with her arms. “He actually is quite nice. I think you’ll like him,” she went on before escorting you down the stairs towards your new room.

Oh, how little you or anyone else knew just how much you’d “Like him”.

A/N: I hope you liked it! Please leave any/all opinions in the comments. This is pretty personal to me, so I'm SO excited to see what you all think!!!

~Shae <3

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #y/n #fem reader #fluff #plus sized reader #hazbin lucifer x reader #songfic hazbin hotel #songfic

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kimmiessimmies · 22 days

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Honeycomb Hills Apartments

Malte's home!

I shared a preview yesterday, but here is the full post. And when I say full, I mean "OMFG, Kim did you really have to write another essay?!" Yes. That kind of full. I'm not even sorry.

I was so happy about finishing these apartments that I plunked down three in a row. 😄

Each building has four apartments, all similar: 2 bed, 1,5 bath.

Currently, I only moved one person in: Mister Malte Nerhus, aka Rachel's... I wanna say boyfriend, but then I might be getting ahead of things... crush! Let's say crush!

Malte came to Honeycomb with not a lot of money in his pocket, happy and eager to start his first ever real job there. When he started looking for a place to live, a two-bedroom apartment wasn't really what he had in mind, (Malte would have been fine in a studio apartment) but it was the only thing available to non-students in Honeycomb Hills and the rent was quite affordable because these apartments are part of an experimental project set up as part of "Greenify Honeycomb Valley": the tenants of the first apartments get a discount on their rent if they fill out regular questionnaires containing questions on how to make the apartment more sustainable and eco-friendly.

So, Malte moved into a two-bedroom apartment, claiming the smaller bedroom as his own and leaving the larger one empty. If they decided to come over, it could potentially sleep his entire family (his mother, grandmother, and two sisters). He spent his money wisely and using the resources available, soon made a home out of this place.

The large windows are Malte's favourite feature of his home. He built sofas out of old mattresses. The Honeycomb campus has two rather large student dorms and whenever a student graduates and moves out of the dorm, the mattress on the bed they used gets replaced for the next resident. Some of those old mattresses are too filthy to even look at, but many are actually still in good shape. Priding itself on being green, the university actually has a website on which they put up old-but-still-good-for-another-round furnishings, free-to-collect. Malte put new, cheap coverings on the mattresses. Easy to take off and wash when needed.

Malte loves cushions and blankets. You find those all around the house. Some were already his, the others were flea-market and thrift store finds, just like all the rugs in his home. Old crates function as a coffee table and makeshift shelves. Of course there's books everywhere. The lamps are wall fixtures that were already in the house, as were the curtains, and the poster on the wall is the cover of one of Malte's favourite books, gifted to him by his colleagues from the library where he works as a housewarming present. The guitar and the laptop are Malte's own possessions and the plants are the one item he actually spent a bit of money on, because plants are a must.

Malte is a creative spirit. Painting, drawing, writing and making music all keep him sane. The painting easel was a thrift store find, and to protect the floors of his rented home, Malte put down a tarp underneath. The easel faces the window, of course. All the artwork on the wall is made by Malte or his sister Solveig. The shelves he built himself from old wood and on the top shelf there's a picture of Malte and his family. A little reminder of home.

The kitchen came with the apartment. The table consists of a couple of boards on two sets of trestles. That was an easy build.

The two folding chairs (there's a third folded against the wall next to the fridge) Malte brought from home and the other two chairs are old discarded university classroom furniture Malte found on the previously mentioned website.

Malte's bike has a place on the wall. It's his main means of transportation. The car in which he took Rachel on their second date wasn't his, a colleague lend it to him.

In the other corner of the room, there's a little workspace. The desk was another university reject and the chair a thrift store find. The paintings are Malte's own work and the pictures show him and his mother and eldest sister.

Here we have three very similar pictures from Malte's bedroom, but I still wanted to use them all xD. Here we find old mattresses again, although the top one is new. Old crates also make great night stands and a bedroom without books isn't a bedroom. The yellow lamp is a thrift store find and the green one a Swedish furniture store one. On Malte's nightstand there's a picture of his mother, grandmother and sisters. The poster above his bed as well as two on the other wall (see next picture) are enlarged prints of Saarqartoq pictures. Rachel had these printed as a gift for Malte because she knows he does miss home sometimes.

Malte doesn't have a wardrobe, but installed a rod against the wall which does the job perfectly.

In the orignal design of the room, the architect intended for people to place a bed below the high window. Malte thought this idea was no good at all. He wanted to wake up with a view! So he went against the design of the room and put his bed against the wall so it faced the tall windows and the green outside. The watermelon bean bag was his latest thrift store gem. It was just too cool to pass by.

And that concludes the tour of Malte's home. There's also a bathroom, which is just a bathroom, and a balcony, which I didn't take any pictures of at this time, but which will show up in a story post, I'm sure.

#visit honeycomb #ts3 #the sims 3 #sims 3 #lot tour #residential lot

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chaos-is-beautifvl · 1 year

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𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: bakugou katsuki x implied fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: in which the stupidest of stupidities is two oblivious people who think they’re not good enough for the other ||preview here

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠: fluff, so. much. pining, no use of y/n, bakugou being affectionate in his own aggresive way, mineta (that should be warning enough), cursing - it’s bakugou, what did you expect?

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.7k (2788)

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 💌: posting this later than anticipated but for good reason because i graduated last week! i’m considering writing a part 2 with some scenes i didn’t include. let me know if you’d be interested!

p.s. requests are 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 || guidelines here p.s.s. check out my other fics here!

buy me a coffee ☕️! (for support!)

✸-✸-✸

The falling of the rain on the roof mixed with the quiet chatter of the classroom. A wistful sigh left your mouth as you stared out the window, watching the droplets fall. It was a race, and while, at first, your rain droplet was in the lead, it was now moving slowly along the glass.

“I’m gonna win.”

You tilted your head towards the speaker, eyes still on the window. “Being fast doesn’t always guarantee victory. Ever heard the tale of the tortoise and the hare?” You added after hearing a quiet scoff and a mumble of ‘yeah, well, we’ll see.’

“Yes, we will,” you replied, laughing softly.

Not even five seconds later, your rain droplet caught up with its competitor, sliding down to the window pane (or, in this case, the finish line). You took your attention off the window, redirecting it to the blond sitting behind you, “Told you — slow and steady wins the race.”

“Tch.” He grunted, arms crossing over his chest. “I’ll get you next time.”

You couldn’t help the grin that surfaced as you turned to the front of the classroom, “I’ll be counting on it.”

The end of the day came quicker than anticipated. You weren’t sure how much time had passed since Mr. Aizawa reminded the class of an upcoming exam, but soon enough, the final bell rang, shaking you from your daze.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t happy about class ending. With the cold, rainy weather and your restlessness the night before, you were beyond tired and wanted some much-needed rest.

Just as you were about to leave, a business-course student approached you, wanting your opinion for a survey. They explained it was for a project they had procrastinated on, and as much as you would have liked to retreat to your room, you couldn’t help but empathize with them. After all, procrastination was no stranger to you.

You were thankful that the survey only took about ten minutes to complete. But when you looked outside the window and noticed the heavily-falling rain, you wanted to sink into the floor. You double-checked that you had your things and then remembered something as you were about to leave.

You had forgotten your umbrella. Of course, you did.

You went to bed late the night before, and in your body’s attempt to give you more rest, you’d almost slept through your alarm. In a rush, you didn’t check the weather like usual. And your classmates had already left to return to the dorms leaving you on your lonesome.

As you grumpily exited the building, you thought of how useful Yayorozu’s quirk was in such situations. Just to your luck, the downpour became even heavier as you rushed back to the dorms. At this point, you wished you could hide under a rock until your unluckiness disappeared.

The ground was slippery as you jogged to shelter, attempting to avoid falling and injuring yourself. By the time you’d returned, the rain had soaked through your clothes, and you felt an impending cold. Sniffles could be heard as you trudged to the elevators.

Your clothes clung to your skin, the wetness sending shivers throughout your tired body. You clutched onto your backpack, thankful it was waterproof, unlike the rest of your body. You’d hate it if your notes were ruined.

You must have been dozing off while waiting for the elevator to open because a thunk came to your forehead. Your eyes shot open, blearily taking in Bakugou standing before you, red eyes staring in what looked like discontent. You opened your mouth to speak when he shook his head, mumbling ‘idiot’ under his breath.

You didn’t reply, only looking at him. “Hey, dumbass, the hell are you staring at?” Your eyes widened in surprise as you quickly averted your gaze, embarrassed at him having to call you out.

“Sorry, Bakugou,” you said sheepishly. “I’m just tired.”

“And wet.”

Your mind went straight to the gutter, and you cursed yourself when the blond raised an eyebrow at your non-response response. The corner of Katsuki’s mouth twitched when he noticed your mild panicked expression. “‘m talking about your clothes, dummy. Don’t go thinking weird shit.”

“Sorry…” you mumbled. You looked down at your clothes, remembering why you were apologizing in the first place. “Right, thanks for pointing it out.”

For some reason, the air felt discomfiting. You weren’t sure why you felt so nervous as you stood beside the blond, wondering what was taking the elevator so long.

Today couldn’t be more shitty. Not only had you forgotten your umbrella, leaving you soaked, but now you were standing next to the guy you embarrassed yourself in front of.

(You’ve also harbored feelings for him the past few months, but that’s irrelevant. It’s not like it affected how you acted around him - only it did exactly that).

You ignored him, staring in a weird daze that probably creeped him out. And then, you misinterpreted his simple observation into something dirty.

It felt like you were inconveniencing the blond. All Bakugou wanted was to get on the elevator, and there you were, staring at him in a daze. Now, he was boring holes into you, and you couldn’t wait to shower and overthink this entire interaction.

The elevator doors opened with a ding, and out came Mineta and Kaminari, whispering to each other about something you were sure you didn’t want to know about. They were so engrossed in their conversation that they hadn’t even noticed you and Bakugou waiting, resulting in them bumping into you two.

You didn’t have time to catch yourself as your still-slippery shoes slid against the floor, causing you to fall. Well, almost. You were already bracing yourself for the impact when you realized that, yes, you were against something firm, but the firm object was also warm.

You opened your squeezed-shut eyes, slowly blinking as you realized you hadn’t hit the floor, which would have been the cherry on top of the horrible afternoon you had so far. Instead, someone’s arm was keeping you steady. While you were initially grateful, it only took one second to recognize who the arm belonged to, and you were immensely embarrassed.

You jumped like a cat touching water. Wrong move. It seemed that you kept forgetting that you were wet, which included your shoes. You almost slipped again - no, correction: you did slip again, but you were also caught again.

You weren’t sure what was more mortifying, the fact that you were acting like a klutz or the fact that Katsuki was holding you tight to his chest, preventing you from moving.

“Stop moving, dammit. You’re gonna fall or some shit.” Katsuki’s voice was gruff in your ear, and it was then that you realized how close you two were. Your initial reaction was to run away, but after your previous two attempts at simply moving your body, you didn’t think that was wise.

Besides, being held by Katsuki was something both unexpected and highly appreciated.

His warm body was slowly removing the chill that had settled over yours. But when you registered his mouth so close to you, goosebumps speckled your skin. “You good to stand, or you gonna fall again?”

Your response was a nod because you did not trust your mouth to not further embarrass you. Katsuki’s arms left you, but not before he righted you on your feet, hands lingering on your waist to stabilize you.

He ducked his head, maintaining eye contact while he checked if you were okay with a quirk of his brow. You could feel the heat projecting from your cheeks, and you were relieved he wasn’t holding you as tightly as before.

His vermillion eyes pierced into yours, and you began to realize how rich their color was. You hadn’t noticed how entrancing they were when you suddenly heard the most obnoxious non-whispering.

“Oh my god, this is exactly like the movies, Kaminari. They’re totally gonna make out right now.”

The purple-headed pervert was too busy mumbling inappropriate comments to himself to see an angry blond finally stepping away from you and walking his way. “And we get front-row seats. I wonder if they’re gonna have sex-”

Before Mineta could finish this piercing, a hand smacked him on the head, leaving him wailing. Katsuki leaned down, practically squatting to reach the boy’s height. “Wanna say that pervy shit again, hah?!”

“B-Bakugou, let’s calm down, shall we?” A nervous Kaminari stuttered out. He froze when Katsuki’s harsh glare turned to him. “You know what, never mind. Go- go ahead.”

Katsuki redirected his angry and annoyed attention back to Mineta, who was quivering and shaking like he feared for his life. With the murderous look on the blond’s face, Mineta had every right to feel that way.

Before Katsuki could teach the class pervert a well-deserved lesson, a yell came from the opening elevator doors. In the time you and Katsuki waited for the elevator and were now, unfortunately, dealing with Kaminari and Mineta, more people had loaded onto the elevator and joined your little party.

Iida immediately took notice of the situation and intervened in his class-president fashion. “Bakugou, while I’m sure you believe enacting justice will rid Mineta here of his inappropriate actions, you mustn’t resort to such violence!”

Upon having an audience and a decreasing tolerance, Katsuki grunted, releasing his tight grip on the boy, who rushed to safety far away from the blond, who then rolled his eyes.

“You say some weird shit like that again, and I’ll kill you. Got it, pipsqueak?!”

“Language!” Iida shouted, waving his arm around like he was directing traffic.

All the yelling and commotion was far too much on your tired and overworked body. You heaved a sigh as Iida reprimanded Katsuki and Mineta. Then Iida criticized himself as he was too loud.

Unbeknownst to you, Katsuki had noticed your despair, prompting him to grab your hand and shove past the group.

Before Iida could voice his grievances about Katsuki’s apparent rudeness, the blond smashed the elevator’s button closed. You blinked slowly at all of the action that just took place.

The elevator hadn’t even moved when you remembered that Katsuki was still holding your hand. As warmth dispersed throughout your body, you had one thought.

This is gonna be one long ride…

Your eyes were practically glued to the floor for the treacherously slow ride. You were acutely aware of Katsuki’s hand in yours, and it seemed your other bodily functions weren’t functioning.

You held your breath, afraid it would penetrate the little bubble the two of you were in. Your heartbeat quickened at an alarming rate, and if Bakugou couldn’t hear it, you were sure he could feel the warmth radiating off you.

You felt flushed from your head to your toes. You cursed your very being at the clammy sweat that had begun collecting on your palms because why, oh why, was your body reacting this way?

Your rhetorical question was answered with Katsuki’s burning gaze. If you felt the slightest heat emanating from your awkwardness, the way the blond was once again boring holes in you like you were a wannabe cheese grater made you feel on fire. And not in the empowering sense.

“Oi,” he grumbled to get your attention. You still didn’t trust yourself, so you acknowledged him with a mere hum and a head tilt. Out of the corner of your eyes, you spotted him rolling his, clearly discontent with your non-verbal answer.

Much to your delight, he didn’t air his grievances and got straight to the point. With a labored sigh, he grunted a statement you weren’t expecting.

“You’re hot.”

And that was when you died. Okay, you can admit that is a slight exaggeration. All that resulted when you tried to express how flabbergasted you were was a strangled squeak.

You certainly wished you were being strangled because maybe that would rid you of today’s perpetual mortification.

“If you’re careless, you’ll catch a fever.” Katsuki continued without a hitch as if he hadn’t witnessed your poor attempt at responding. Well, he is Bakugou Katsuki, so, of course, he noticed. Thankfully for you, he chose not to comment. Though you’d be lying if you said you didn’t catch his mouth twitching in a grin out of your periphery.

“R-Right!” There you go! Actual words like a human. Almost, at least. “I won’t be careless.” Okay, that was better.

The elevator dinged, and you could barely contain your relieved sigh. Finally! You were safe!

The dorm hall was empty, which you were grateful for because you could retreat to your room and replay every embarrassing aspect of today in your head without being interrupted.

You almost forgot you were holding Katsuki’s hand until you were tugged back as you went to exit the elevator. A startled ‘oh!’ escaped you as you prevented yourself from tripping again.

“Oi, dummy,” Katsuki’s gruff voice directed your attention to him. You blinked slowly with bated breath as you waited for him to continue. Of all the times your heart could be fluttering and doing intricate gymnastics, why was it now?

Oh, you know. It’s because of the way Katsuki looks down at you. There’s a look on his face that you can’t quite place. And he holds a wrinkle between his eyebrows, and you have half a mind to smooth it out with your fingers.

Would that be an excuse to touch his face? Absolutely. No one has to know. Besides, he is way too handsome, pretty, and all the other adjectives that accurately describe how attractive he is.

“Take care of yourself.” Aw, sweet, but a little uncanny. “Or I’ll kill you.” Ah, that’s the Bakugou I know.

“No worries!” You smiled, pleased to form actual coherent words and sentences. Your eyes closed as you beamed up at him, but if they had been open, you would have caught sight of the endearing look on the blond’s face.

✸-✸

To your luck, the weather was pleasant in the morning. You were well rested from the night before, taking Katsuki’s words earnestly. The chirping birds awoke you, and, unlike yesterday, you took your time getting ready for the day.

As you walked, the smell of dewy rain reached your nose, and you couldn’t help laughing at the complete change in weather. Once you made it to class and settled, a low grumble captured your attention. Tilting your head backward, you acknowledged the blond.

“Don’t slack off in training today, idiot.”

His harsh warning only brought a grin to your face. “As long as you don’t slack off either.”

“Hah?!” Katsuki practically shouted. “I never slack off. That’s your ass!”

You couldn’t even contain your snicker at his outburst, “Sure, sure.”

As you bickered - well, it was mostly just Bakugou - your friends surveyed the scene with knowing eyes.

“They’re so oblivious,” Kaminari sighed, resting his cheek on his palm. He had watched the both of you skirting around your feelings for months at this point, and it drove him and the rest of your friends up the wall.

“Kacchan has always been stubborn with his feelings,” Midoriya added as he leaned against Kirishima’s desk. “Ever since we were kids. But I’m happy that Kacchan has someone who makes him smile!”

As if he had a sixth sense, Katsuki stopped bickering with you and turned his attention to the watching group. His gaze narrowed, “The fuck are you extras staring at?!”

Before anyone could bear the wrath of Bakugou Katsuki, Iida intervened. “Bakugou, that is no way to address your fellow classmates! Besides, it is far too early to raise your voice as you are doing! Please calm down!”

The blond rolled his eyes, “You’re doing the same, Glasses.”

Your quiet breath of laughter as Iida attempted to correct himself was heard by Katsuki, who met your gaze. The corner of his mouth upturned, and you had to stop your heart from doing somersaults and reign in the hoard of butterflies that threatened to be released.

“Hey, Midoriya?” Kirishima asked, “Didn’t you say there was a fancy word for what they have?”

Midoriya racked his brain for a moment before nodding. “Well, the term could apply to anything. It’s not necessarily subject to one thing. Though I guess in their case, morosis could apply. In short, it’s defined as the stupidest of stupidities. I guess one might say that their obliviousness is morosis.”

“So basically, they’re just too dumb to see that they both like each other,” Kaminari affirmed, recalling how you and Katsuki looked at each other yesterday by the elevator. Sigh… if only he had someone that looked at him like that.

✸-✸-✸

#chaos-is-beautifvl #chaos.writes 🖋#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x gender neutral reader #bakugou x fem!reader

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