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imperialstark · 8 months

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like smoke rings in the air

a/n: lol i meant to write this in may. anyway steve may or may not be obsessed with tony after the events of breathe me in. that's between him and god.

breathe me in (prequel fic. tony's pov)

choke on me (sequel fic. tony's pov)

Steve has a problem by the name of Tony Stark.

It starts in Stuttgart with Steve on his knees, Tony his savior, soaring through the air in a riot of noise and color, like an archangel at the end of days.

Later on, when Tony leaps from the Quinjet, proud and defiant, Steve doesn't even think twice about jumping after him into the unknown.

Maybe that should have been his first sign that Tony Stark was nothing but trouble.

He's trouble with those whiskey-warm eyes, and that smart fucking mouth, but Lord, forgive him, Steve wants to sin for once.

Steve's finally stripping out of his uniform and gearing up for a shower when Tony makes the decision for him. Tony comes after they've defeated the Chitauri, gone through Hell together. He hovers in the doorway looking uncharacteristically contrite and something in Steve aches. Tony's heart had stopped in those few terrifying seconds after the Hulk had cradled him to safety. What was he even doing up?

He says as much and Tony deflects quick and sharp like a knife to the gut. "After the second time you get used to it."

It's said so nonchalantly, like it's a fact of life. Tony Stark's heart stops from time to time and it's no big deal. Why is Steve worrying? Still...it bothers him, how little Tony seems to care about his own wellbeing.

"You're not the guy to make the sacrifice play. To lay down on the wire and let the other guy crawl over you," he had said earlier in blaze of righteous fury.

It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, just thinking about it. Tony had laid on the wire. More than.

He's man enough to apologize, to recognize when he's wrong. Maybe it's the adrenaline of the past 36 hours or the latent realization that all of Manhattan would be a smoking crater if not for Tony, but Steve has the sudden, near violent urge to make things right.

Steve snaps back to the present, face twisting as Tony says he wants to apologize for being an ass, like Steve hadn't been going toe to toe with him in the first place.

And for some godforsaken reason, that pisses Steve off. Reminds him of the old days, before the war and the shield and everything that came with it, when everyone treated him like he was made of glass. Innocent. Fragile. Good for nothing.

"It wasn't just you," Steve blurts out, hoping it doesn't sound as strange as he feels. This is supposed to be an apology and all he wants is to prove Tony wrong.

Somehow, it works. They banter back and forth and Tony estimates that he's no longer a lab rat and it feels good. The kind of banter he had with his men a lifetime ago. And maybe...if this little team of theirs doesn't fall apart...

His stupid heart still has hope, it seems.

"You know...what you did today, that took courage," Steve says, his voice slipping into something softer that makes his cheeks heat. The ribbing was easy. Routine. This is something else entirely.

"Don't even mention it. Please," Tony says quickly...not the reaction you'd expect from someone with a notorious ego.

Steve frowns and wonders how much of Tony Stark is real.

"If you're not gonna let me apologize to you properly, at least let me do something for you, or buy you something. I'm great at buying things."

His first reaction is to balk, but he swiftly shuts it down. He had judged Tony before and look where that had gotten them. The least Steve could do was hear him out. "Like what?"

"I don't know, like a vintage car or something. A blowjob. Whatever floats your boat."

It's ice water in his veins, like the floor's disappeared underneath them, and Steve is headed straight towards another watery grave. A thousand thoughts fly through his head—is it a joke? A threat?

Steve hopes times have changed at least in regards to that. But why would Tony bring it up so publicly if it was still a crime to want a man the way society said he should have wanted a woman? Unless...unless it was real. Because if it was real...

By the time Steve formulates a response, he already sees the fear in Tony's eyes.

"It was a joke," Tony says weakly, and Steve hopes his disappointment isn't that clear.

"I'm sorry," Steve says, glancing down, suddenly all too aware of his half-nakedness. He needs to go into barrack now before he dies of embarrassment.

"Wait," Tony says, grabbing Steve by the arm. It sets Steve on fire in the best way, the ice in his veins melting away. "It...it wouldn't be a chore or anything."

Steve swallows, looking Tony up and down. There's a nervous, flighty look in Tony's eyes like candle light. "You mean that?" Steve says.

But Tony wasn't a candle. He wasn't even a spark. Tony Stark was a goddamn powder keg, and Steve wanted to be the one to light the match.

"I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it," Tony confesses. The ice, the cold, is gone, and Steve wants to burn, burn, burn.

"Yeah?" Steve says, and his tongue darts out, wetting his lips, suddenly parched.

"Yeah," Tony breathes.

What happens after is forever emblazoned in his brain. Tony, looking at him with those fucking doe eyes. Yanking Tony in by his shirt collar, kissing that smart-ass mouth until all it's good for is moaning like a whore into Steve's. Tony sinking to his knees, Steve's pants around his thighs and his cock finding a new home in Tony's mouth.

And then Tony runs.

Sometimes Steve thinks Tony was born with wings at his feet, that he came out of the womb running and hasn't stopped since.

Steve feels like a wolf sometimes, chasing after Tony, nipping at his heels with sharp teeth. He doesn't mind the chase, but he doesn't love it either. He just wants Tony. Tony in his arms, in his bed, with Steve's teeth clamped around his throat.

Okay, so maybe he does like the chase. Just a little. But if Steve likes it, then Tony loves it; a hare evading a snare.

Tony runs and Steve thinks to Apollo and Daphne; So close to heaven you can almost fucking taste it, nectar gliding hot and heavy like honey down his throat, only for it to be snatched away.

Two years pass and he's not any closer to solving the Tony Problem and it haunts him. Even on missions. Especially on missions.

"How about her?" Natasha says, swiping through one of the five billion dating apps that seemed to permeate this new era Steve was in.

They're in Turkey this time, waiting for SHIELD to extract them, but there had been something wrong with one of the helicarrier's turbines prolonging them indefinitely. What else was new. Natasha had of course decided that was the perfect time to make him a Tinder, of all things.

"Out of the kindness of my heart," she had teased.

The woman on Natasha's phone was...fine. Stunning even, with long golden hair, high cheekbones and a tall, svelte figure but her eyes...

Her eyes were pale blue, like shards of ice. Steve shivered involuntarily. He had had enough of ice.

He wanted heat and fire, someone who burned him alive. Someone like—

"Not my type," Steve says and he's telling the truth... and maybe he wants to mess with Natasha. Just a little bit.

"...Is it because she's blonde?"

Yeah. That was the issue. The woman was blonde and she had blues eyes and wasn't Tony fucking Stark and that made all the difference.

"Too pretty," Steve says instead.

"And you're too handsome," Natasha says. "It's a match made in heaven."

"Heaven, huh?

"Or, Hell. Honestly, take your pick."

Steve snorts and scrubs a hand down his face. When he closes his eyes, he's no longer at there extraction point, a nondescript hostel devoid of any other guests and he's back on the helicarrier...with Tony.

Tony had been eager, with roaming hands and a wicked tongue that had Steve coming hard enough to see fucking stars. The new navy-and-white suit he's wearing is one of Tony's designs and he can almost pretend like Tony's hands are all over him. He'd leave it on and Tony would sink to his knees again, kissing Steve's boots and up his calves, ever the tease. Nuzzling against his thighs and lathing at Steve through the kevlar.

"I missed you," Tony would say, doe eyes back in full force. "I missed this," with his hand around Steve's—

"Did you go to sleep?" Natasha asks, and the fantasy's over.

Later on, when the helicarrier finally picks them up, Steve does his usual routine. Strip. Shower. Jerk off, thinking about Tony. Rinse. Repeat.

"I want you," Tony would say.

"I could give it to you," Steve thinks. "If you'd let me."

#stony #stevetony #steve rogers #tony stark #marvel #surprise choke on me fic from steve's pov!#imperialstark fic #my fic #my writing

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jimmyandthegiraffes · 3 months

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Fic Writing Review 2023 🌈

Thank you sm @itwoodbeprefect for the tag!!!

I hardly published anything this year so if u wanna skip to 'projects for 2024' that's gonna be the most interesting bit >.<

Words and Fics (on ao3) 📚

words posted: 714 💀 but many more words were written, just not posted lol fics posted: 1 first fic/last fic 😅: King of the Eyesores - Doctor Who (1963)

Ships and Fandoms ⚓

Doctor Who - no ships really but KotE is Mike Yates-centric.

Top 5 Fics by Kudos 🏆

It's KotE again lol which is at 6 kudos. Of all time, tho:

After the Hour(glass) - Night at the Museum (Jedtavius)

Less Than Ideal Circumstances - The Man from UNCLE (TV) (Napollya)

When They Sleep - The Man from UNCLE (TV)

Dismiss Your Fears - Back to the Future

After All, I'm Only Sleeping - Doctor Who (1963)

Top 5 Favorite Fics 💖

KotE......... I do actually rly enjoy KotE I think it has potential in terms of where it's going. But since I only posted one fic in 2023, I'll do my top 5 of fics I've ever posted. Apart from the first one this is in no particular order

tickertape - The A-Team (TV) it's my baby it's all I thought about for months of my life, it's like an iceberg (i.e. most of it is in my WIP doc, and only a tiny fraction is published so far), it got me thru a difficult time, it's an exploration of mental illness and complicated messy relationships expressed in epic format (i.e. it's probably gonna be novel length when it's done)

Bullet Number Six - Starsky & Hutch (TV) it received criticism for being obscure and hard to follow bc it switches pov briefly halfway thru but idc i love it anyway

I Gotta Right to Sing the Blues - The A-Team (TV) it was my first A-Team fic and I still think for a beginner it nailed some p realistic in-character dialogue and addressed an undertone I wished I'd seen addressed in the ep it's a coda to.

When They Sleep - The Man from UNCLE (TV) it's kind of riddled with certain mannerisms of my slightly older writing which I personally find a bit annoying and have worked to iron out for the sake of elegance over the years. but I still think it's a cool little exploration of all my sleep headcanons for the pair of them in one place

King of the Eyesores - Doctor Who (1963) see it made it to the list after all! I kinda like it more for its potential than for what it is right now butttttt who cares.

special mention to Unbereft (Starsky & Hutch) which I really really like but I wrote it in one frenzied sitting and only remembered after I'd posted it that it was very like someone else's fic I'd read several years previously. I don't think it's too much like to be taken down and I've since mentioned the writer of the other fic (it was dawnwind, hello!) in the notes. that's the only reason unbereft isn't in my top 5 because I'm otherwise really proud of how well it's written. Not to tootle on my own trumpet.

Fandom fic events

none RIP but maybe this year!!

Projects for 2024

Okay here we goooooooooooo

priority 1 is to finish the unfinished works that I've already half posted: King of the Eyesores, Every Line A Comedy, OUTATIME, The Windhover, tickertape, The Hanoi Bank Job and Other Misadventures, 38 Hours. Bolded are my top priorities.

other works that I'm writing but which haven't seen the light of day at all yet:

Dear Mike - an epistolary between Jo Grant and Mike Yates following her marriage to Cliff Jones.

The Lark/Behind That Locked Door (working titles) - a 30-chapter 2/Jamie fic about season 6B in which Jamie suffers permanent memory problems after the War Games. It explores grief, social ostracism, feeling abandoned, undirected anger, guilt, and acceptance that healing sometimes is a process that is never complete. I've been working on it since about 2016 lol but I'm lazy I just need to press on.

hell valley au - as yet untitled lol. In which the Hell Valley!Marty (who is never seen in BTTF2 as he is in Switzerland) and Hell Valley!Doc (who has been institutionalized) break out of their respective situations and go on the run together. But there's a problem - they had to leave Einstein behind, and when they get information that Einie is to be used for a dogfight, they make the risky decision to go back to Hill Valley to rescue him. However, going back to the place they just escaped by the skin of their teeth also brings them face to face with the last person they expect to meet.

a changed man (working title) - a Randall & Hopkirk (Deceased) fic from Jeannie's pov. mostly it's about their picnic excursions but it's also about Jeannie wishing Marty wasn't such an elephant in the room

mfu/rahd xover (untitled) - the first chapter of this is almost ready to go tbh. it's what it says on the tin lol, Napoleon and Illya go to London and get help from a rather eccentric private detective who has uncanny powers of solving impossible cases but also they think is probably clinically insane

to see him happy - VERY weird rahd fic. it's smut but its also about grief. might never post it because several of my family members have access to my tumblr and therefore my ao3 lol they dont need to see that

the winter of '62 - a study of jeff and marty's life when they lived together in a grotty bedsit and couldnt afford to put the heating on

star wars (untitled) - set during ROTJ, han pov. han's lost a lot of time and now everyone is one step ahead of him which isn't a sensation he's used to

skyrissian - what it says on the tin lol

the older gen (untitled) - jeeves fic about bertie's aunts and uncles and parents as they were as they variously grew up, got married, had children, died (or didn't), fell prey to alcoholism or insanity or petty crime, went to war, prospered (or didn't)... This is pretty unlikely to be finished this year tbh as it's very detailed but I can dream

a couple of long form fics about starsky & hutch and mfu respectively (the s&h one is set post sweet revenge, the mfu one takes place at various moments throughout the show)

x-files series - canon compliant until paperclip and then gradually diverges into how i think the show should have gone lol. another biggie

and a handful of tintin fics that im protective of and might never post but we'll see - one where tintin and chang go on holiday in london after picaros, one where the gang encounters rajaijah one last time (featuring a letter from didi, chang making a very daring crossing at the songolese border, and tintin taking about ten years to chop up a clove of garlic), and one where tintin gets shitfaced at an embassy ball and accidentally starts an Incident. haddock looks on, appalled.

i knoooooooooooooooowww this is a lot but i'm not realistically hoping to finish it all this year but it's nice to have lots of things to play around with lol.

unfortunately i have the eternal problem of not ever knowing which of my mutuals write fic and which of those havent already been tagged but imma tag @theteaisaddictive and genuinely if u see this and u write fic ur tagged i want to knowwwwwwwwwwwww <333

#tag #doctor who #the a team #starsky and hutch #tintin #tag game #jamie mccrimmon #randall and hopkirk deceased #bttf #mike yates

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aegor-bamfsteel · 1 year

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Sometimes I feel like so many book fans are unable to see Dany atrocities in Slavers Bay. It's because they think Dany is removing slavery and the characters are either causing problems to Dany or some are plain cruel. Do you think the writing has sone flaws regarding Essos chapter?

I think you’re right regarding the Slaver’s Bay atrocities, although a few people have pointed out this is likely intentional. Making the Slavers so one-dimensionally evil—crucifying 163 slave children as a challenge to Dæny, brainwashing slave boys into super soldiers, condemning innocent people to getting mauled by animals because they want to see death—is so Dæny’s actions against them seem not as bad by comparison, or even “karmic justice”. I mean, how many times have you seen the defense of the crucifixion of 163 Meereenese Masters as “they were slavers and probably involved in killing them anyway” when Dæny had them killed without an investigation? Even though the motivation of the slavers is similar to that of Tywin Lannister—pride in their heritage and the system they’ve profited off of, to the point of considering those outside the clan inferior which justifies all sorts of atrocities against them—you never get an Essosi villain with Tywin’s sort of backstory or sense of grandeur (let alone that of his children, but at least they’re POVs).

I’m hardly alone thinking the Essosi characters are poorly developed. It’s pretty telling that the show—otherwise criticized for flattening characters, for its racist imagery, for softening the blow of dark!Dæny—actually did better than the books with them in a few places. They gave Missandei and Grey Worm a romantic plot that didn’t involve Dæny (and considering Missandei was supposed to survive the finale, maybe signified them growing apart from her). They made it obvious that Dæny crucifying the 163 Great Masters without a trial was reckless, because she killed Hizdahr’s father and he’d spoken against killing the children. Hizdahr himself got more sympathetic characterization, going from an opportunistic lobbyist who wanted to open up the fighting pits to essentially being the Sansa to her Joffrey and pointing out her hypocrisy when she vows to destroy Meereen if they keep rebelling (“So your reasons are true and theirs are false?”) Then there’s a character Mossador, a former slave who she kills for killing a Son of the Harpy without trial, thus causing a riot, and he’s not in the books.

GRRM, as the first linked post points out, has a talent for creating well fleshed out minor characters in little narrative space (citing Small Paul, though there are many other examples), which helps make Westeros feel more dynamic. By contrast, Dæny’s main cast in Essos is mostly one dimensional. It’s not really fair to compare Pyp, Grenn, and Dolorous Edd (not counting Sam because he’s a POV) to Irri, Jhiqui, Rakharo, and Jhogo, but both of groups have been with POV Jon or Dæny for most of their journey, and see how easy it is to think of the first group’s character traits (Pyp’s the funny mummer, Grenn is a gentle giant, Dolorous Edd is Eeyore giving a Shakespeare monologue) whereas the second group has little characterization (GRRM differentiates them by body type, with Irri as slender, Jhiqui as busty, Jhogo is young, Rakharo has a mustache) This got so bad in ADWD that GRRM had to invent a character Rommo as part of Dæny’s khalasar because her bloodriders weren’t available to represent the Dothraki in council. We have an oily suck up to the ruling power in Reznak and Pycelle, but we understand Pycelle’s motivations due to a monologue with Jaime (he admires authoritarian rulers since surviving a plague that killed 3/4 of the Citadel), whereas Reznak doesn’t get that revealing backstory moment. Basically GRRM shows he’s plenty capable of creating interesting side characters and antagonists, he just rarely does so during the Essosi chapters.

(Incidentally, this is part of the reason why I hate the theory that Melisandre is of magical Westerosi origin. She’s 1 of 2 indigenous Essosi and ex-slave POVs and a well rounded character with development over 3 books who drives part of the plot. Making her Westerosi magic really takes away from her origin story that led her to devote her life to Rhllor.)

#ask #grrm criticism #anti daenerys #opinion

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bunnieshoneys · 4 months

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Just left a comment on the new chapter (incredible, as always) and I have follow-up questions that I hope you don't mind answering!!!

I saw you mention in a reply to someone else that you want the opportunity to go off about the scene where Suguru is crying — so this is me giving you the authorisation to do that! I mentioned in my comment how surprising and refreshing it is that Suguru openly recognises that he and Satoru are in love with each other, but couldn't work out if that's why he's crying or whether it's like sorrow for what Satoru is doing to himself or something else entirely? Please tell us everything you're itching to say about this scene, I'm *begging* you!!

Also, I'm desperate to know what Satoru thought when he saw Suguru. As writers, I know we make the choice *not* to show things for deliberate reasons and I love the narrative distance you maintain from young Satoru — it's a beautiful parallel to canon. THAT SAID do you have any intentions to write a scene from his POV at any point or will it all be retrospective? I just wanna know what went through his head in that moment 😭

Lastly, no kiss and confession until the end of the chapter... So exactly *what* were the two of them doing in those hotel rooms this whole chapter???? 👀

Thank you in advance!! Grateful for anything you share with us ♥

i just saw your comment eeeeee but ill reply to that later,,, ive had a huge influx of attention on ao3 so iv been clearing my inbox out bc its! quite! overwhelming!

ooohhh my god that scene. first: suguru's not crying bc hes jealous (mostly, anyway). of course, there's a level of jealousy that comes into play, since he definitely feels a little jealous. but most of it isnt to do with that. there's worry for satoru, because he's not being particularly careful about covering his sexuality, and that comes with a whole host of problems in their sport: lost sponsorships, scandal, etc. there's confusion, too, like why is his friend deliberately doing this and putting himself in harm's way for seemingly no reason, and why is he so calm about putting himself in these situations. then there's the guilt about feeling all of this: if satoru's happy, he shouldn't care, and why does he even care so much? Oh, and he's drunk and watching satoru do actual, genuine, hard drugs. yeah, its just a whole tangle of emotions he doesn't know how to deal with, and even less so when he was drunk. he just feels guilt, envy, and sadness all at once and he's SO poorly equipped to deal with it.

if you mean in the past, post-crying scene, satoru never saw suguru outside the club. its not explicitly mentioned, but in my head, yuki picked him up and took him back to the hotel. Choso went back in by himself to punch give a talking to the mechanic, and sent satoru back to shoko. so yeah, satoru doesn't know suguru even saw him with this guy!

they weren't doing anything apart from talking, teehee. they're just silly little guys.

thank you for your comments and asks tumblr user fushiglow i love you endlessly.

#bunny answers #fic: coanda effect

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riversimmone · 7 months

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How to Catch an Uchiha

RiverOfTheSand

Summary:

Sasuke wasn't a voyeur. Really, he wasn't... But caught in the middle of a lover's tiff between Itachi and Sakura and unable to do anything to stop it, all he could do was watch. Non-mass ItaSaku.

Notes:

Cross-posted from fanfiction.net . The reason this is mostly from Sasuke's POV is because I wanted a perspective outside of the ItaSaku elements, and going back and forth between Itachi, Sakura, and whoever I chose as the third wheel (eventually deciding on Sasuke) just sounded unnecessarily confusing. And of course, it was a lot of fun writing it this way. n_n Rated T. Hope you enjoy. :)

Rule number five on how to catch an Uchiha: subtlety.

There were moments that defined us. Moments that came as quickly as they vanished. An Uchiha was not meant to merely endure the storms these moments brought, but to take advantage of them as well. A well-aimed lightning bolt could turn the tide of battle, after all.

That was what his father had told him anyway.

Sasuke Uchiha sneered at the offending mocking of his dignity. The door swung outward. Doors weren't supposed to do that. He preferred shoji doors for that exact reason. They slid open without hitting anyone in the face–without hitting him in the face.

"Sakura," he growled. His team mate had just smacked him in the face when he knocked on her apartment door. Apparently, he wasn't fooling her–she knew exactly why he was here.

"Go fuck yourself, Uchiha!"

He grunted, holding a hand to his reddened face. "That's physically redundant."

"Sasuke!" Sakura screamed at him, and he ducked another wooden object–this one being a small budda statue.

"That's considered bad luck," he reminded her, and then winced at his own stupidity. He really needed to curb his sarcasm around her. This was yet another reason they hadn't lasted long as a couple.

Being that Sasuke was actually the faster ninja, and not a dobe who doubled as a masochist, he easily avoided those chakra laced punches of hers. Why anyone would stand still to get hit by them, he never understood.

"Get out!" She yelled, and he quickly backpedalled. "And tell your sanctimonious brother to stick his precious clan pride up his royal backside!"

The door slammed in his face... figuratively. Hadn't it swung the other way? Everything about Sakura confused him.

A gentle chuckle caught his attention, and frowning, Sasuke glared at the shadowy figure.

Itachi had been standing at the base of the stairs the entire time. He quirked an eyebrow at his otouto and Sasuke pulled a face at him. So subtlety was not his forte–at least, not on purpose–what did it matter? Sasuke knew what Sakura was like, and he'd wanted to be a friend. Was that so surprising?

"You were never going to get her to calm down," Itachi informed him.

"Then go in there and sort her out yourself," Sasuke said grumpily, walking down toward him.

Itachi stared at him for a moment, his curiosity piqued, but instead of walking up the stairs and knocking on Sakura's door, he turned and headed toward the exit, intent on leaving the apartment block. He hadn't been here for her, it seemed. Sasuke was the only other person who knew just how upset Sakura was... Itachi had followed him to watch him get hit in the face.

Bastard.

"I wouldn't leave her to stew in her anger for long; she'll implode," Sasuke said to his aniki's retreating back. When Itachi stopped and looked back at him affably, Sasuke mentally berated himself for getting involved.

Now he'd done it.

–XXX–

Rule number four on how to catch an Uchiha: perseverance.

Fucking hell... he knew he shouldn't have opened his mouth this morning.

Normally, Sasuke kept out of other people's problems, as he didn't care about anything other than his own concerns. His day normally went something like this: he started training shortly after sunrise, ate breakfast once his mother had wrangled his father out of bed (disgusting, life scarring mental images), and then either left to go find Naruto or headed off to a mission, if there was one. And normally, he'd have welcomed the fact that Itachi chose to spar with him this morning, and counted his lucky stars the Uchiha heir graced him with his presence.

But, this morning was different.

He'd gone to see Sakura first.

And Itachi had caught him.

He was just being a good friend; after last night's debacle at the Uchiha main house, he was worried about her. How was he to know she'd finally snapped and gone insane? Dealing with outsiders did that to an Uchiha. Dealing with Uchiha did that to outsiders. It was the natural order.

That was what his father had told him anyway.

And he opened his stupid mouth again, inwardly excited as he was, that Itachi had gone all out on his taijutsu and given Sasuke the best sparring session he'd had for weeks (Naruto didn't count, as the dobe had unnatural stamina on top of the Kyuubi's healing power). He wasn't thinking; that was it, the gods had stolen his brain.

And what was the problem? His aniki had recently come out, so to speak–he was officially dating Sakura Haruno. In any other clan, it might not have caused quite the stir as it had when Fugaku found out and Sasuke had eagerly kept out of it, not wanting to draw their father's wrath. But Itachi came to him, ready to blow off some steam and, so it seemed, to ask for some advice. Not that he came out and said it so obviously. It was in the subtleties in that man's demeanour; the raising of his eyebrows, the shift in his stance, and the fact that he talked about Sasuke's team without actually speaking Sakura's name.

And Sasuke read all the signs right… or wrong, depending on how a person looked at it. Clearly, Itachi wanted to know about how Sakura had been since the fiasco of their coming out, the night before, from Sasuke's point of view. Especially since she hadn't taken well to being told how the intended fiancee of the clan heir was supposed to act, according to the Uchiha matriarch, as well as the fact that she was expected to marry Itachi because their clan said so, according to the Uchiha patriarch. After that disastrous dinner, in which Sakura had politely informed both of her boyfriend's parents that she was only dating her eldest son, and they weren't getting engaged unless they decided it as a couple, not as a golden couple, the pinkette had been on the warpath.

Sasuke had no idea why she was so angry with Itachi though, but his aniki had been avoiding her–his idea of giving her time and space to cool down. Still, no matter what was really going on between those two, Sasuke had known her longer, had dated her first (albeit for about five days before their one and only date had come to a violent end–she'd labelled him "pervert" from that moment on), and got to see her more often because of all the above.

Before responding to his brother's unspoken question, Sasuke thought about that. Self-preservation dictated he feign ignorance, but pretending to not understand the inquiry, when his brother knew very well he could however, was a delicate matter, and caught off guard by Itachi's forwardness (for him, it was), Sasuke wasn't prepared enough to avoid the long, string of evasive probing in his imminent future.

That and Itachi could outrun him any day, so attempting to flee was out of the question.

He shifted his stance, moving immediately to avoid a blow when Itachi's fingers twitched; a sign of fire, heat and promised pain, for his slow response to the question.

"Be direct and honest," he said finally. "And above all else, don't give up."

–XXX–

Rule number one on how to catch an Uchiha: power.

From the clan heir to the lowliest crofter, power spoke volumes and attracted Uchiha like honey to a bear. She had power, and despite her earlier attempts when she was young, Sakura Haruno had earned the right amount of allure to become a household name in the Uchiha clan, not to mention every other clan in Konoha. Sasuke had even considered courting her properly, considering his mother's fascination with the girl (and despite their abysmal first date). This fell flat quickly however, and in of all places, the hot springs.

No, he wasn't there to peek… well, not officially. He'd followed the dobe in there to make sure he didn't do anything that would incur Sakura's wrath and put him out of commission. He told himself it was for the good of their teamwork, and not that he was still sore over his short lived "relationship" with the feisty pinkette.

And hey, if he got a good look, he wouldn't be complaining.

And really, it wasn't like he had anything better to do, not since Itachi started taking over the clan. No, that wasn't right either–Itachi wasn't clan leader yet, but his training was just about over and he was almost there. And his brother would not approve of Sasuke's extracurricular activities–Kakashi was rubbing off on both of him and Naruto. The Konoha bathhouses were no longer safe.

Anyway, where was he? Oh yes: the consequences of spying on Sakura, Hinata, Ino and Tenten in the hot springs (there were a few other girls there with them he didn't recognise but really, who cared who they were?).

Supple breasts, creamy legs, nicely shaped thighs… it was the last thing he saw before Sakura hit Naruto with that chakra infused punch of hers and the dobe slammed into him, knocking them both unconscious. Never again would he go peeking with Naruto tagging along–the knucklehead sucked at being stealthy.

"Never assume she won't chakra punch you when you piss her off," Sasuke added, avoiding a sidekick from his aniki as Itachi noticed his mind drifting. His brother was looking at him oddly, but seemed to think better about questioning him on it. But those all seeing eyes were narrowed suspiciously, and this distracted Sasuke easily; a roundhouse kick sent him through a recently repaired wall... that was going to hurt in the morning.

–XXX–

Rule number three on how to catch an Uchiha: intelligence.

There was no denying Sakura was smart. She'd graduated with high honours–though admittedly it was all theory–and continued to be the most analytical member of Team Seven. Sasuke considered himself intelligent, but she outstripped him, even on the battlefield–though he'd never admit it out loud. He supposed she was more than a match for Itachi in that respect.

Shōgi was the perfect example.

Still aching from that kick his brother had given him, Sasuke had absentmindedly agreed to a game of shōgi with said heir–it was a kind of peace offering, so it would be improper to turn him down, supposedly.

He moved the knight, not looking up in time to see his brother's smirk as Itachi watched his every move.

"That's only going to hurt you later, otouto," Itachi said smoothly, and the younger Uchiha poked out his tongue at him. "Don't let Okā-san catch you doing that, or she'll seal your mouth shut."

"And if you tell her, I'll tell Sakura you were treated for chlamydia."

It was a bold faced lie, but whatever. Itachi frowned at him, not finding the humour in it. "And how will she react to the news that you'd been stalking us for weeks before our relationship became public?"

Sasuke turned beet red–if he'd been eating or drinking anything, he'd have made a mess of the shōgi board. He stammered for a moment before raising his hands in placating manner–there went his dignity. "Just a joke, Nī-san, I swear."

"Hn."

Just thinking about what Itachi was referring to made him cringe.

The first day Sasuke had seen them in a relaxed atmosphere had been after he'd come home after a mission with his team and Itachi had been home, the pinkette would tag along and challenge the Uchiha heir to a game of shōgi.

Their parents couldn't beat Itachi. Sasuke couldn't beat Itachi. Shisui couldn't beat Itachi. But Sakura had slaughtered him. Sasuke remembered her laughing at his brother's expense, but in a strangely non-combative way. It sounded almost… teasing. Not child-like, not rhetorical, but definitely not the way two mere acquaintances should be conversing with each other. And she had never looked at her team mates that way before. He had been pretty sure they didn't know he was spying on them via the shoji door that separated the adjoining hallway between his own bedroom and Itachi's... well, sort of sure.

"That's what you get for underestimating me Itachi-kun," Sakura's sing-song voice took him aback.

Kun?

When did Sakura start adding the kun suffix to Itachi's name?

But his aniki didn't react to her slip of the tongue, merely sighing and refraining from rolling his eyes. He'd gone easy on her–that explained things.

Remembering that day now, Sasuke decided it was high time he found another shōgi partner for himself, and one that had no hope of beating him... perhaps Naruto, or Kiba. It was a running joke/gambling pool that surrounded those two–who had less restraint, who had less brain cells, who had less chance of courting a girl before they lost whatever sperm they had left.

Jokes were not meant for amateurs.

Sasuke sighed as Itachi took his king, and rolled his eyes at the older Uchiha's smirk: which brought Sasuke to his next piece of advice. "Don't underestimate her," he said. "Ever."

–XXX–

Rule number six on how to catch an Uchiha: propriety.

It was expected. It was just expected...

Damn it! Why did the woman have to be so difficult?

Sasuke tried to disappear into the background as his father half-yelled at Itachi for not pulling Sakura into line (in the most dignified way possible). The man didn't understand why the girl was being so resistant. He didn't understand that the pinkette was not a soft spoken lady who merely did as she was told. His heir had chosen a wild woman. But, Itachi argued civilly, wasn't that just a matter of preference?

And so the argument continued.

Fugaku did not understand his eldest son at all. "She's uncouth, even when using the appropriate honorifics. She's violent in all manner of things–beyond what is necessary for a Kunoichi, even at her level. She's also ignorant of our ways, and refuses to listen to common sense!"

"Why don't I teach her?" Mikoto asked placidly, playing the peace maker. "She wasn't raised in a clan, honey."

Sasuke baulked at the endearment, and had to force himself not to choke on his dinner. Sakura wasn't going to respond well to that. Itachi glanced at his otouto, gauging his response before making his own riposte to his mother.

"I will speak to her on it," he promised, and that was that. Fugaku grudgingly let the topic go for now, and Mikoto looked extraordinarily pleased with herself.

Sasuke gave his aniki a funny look, and excused himself from the dinner table a few minutes later. He should've expected that Itachi would follow him.

"You have something to say about all this," Itachi said matter-of-factly.

Sasuke was way past minding his own business now. "Yes, I do; you're an asshole."

Itachi just stared at him, waiting for an explanation.

"All this fuss is being made over how Sakura needs to change," his irate otouto snapped. "What are you compromising on?"

"That's surprisingly wise and considerate of you, otouto."

"Pfft." Sasuke waved away the underhanded compliment. "I'm just saying don't expect more from her than you're willing to give of yourself."

Itachi chuckled. "I will endeavour to heed your advice, oh wise one."

–XXX–

Rule number two on how to catch an Uchiha: b eauty.

Okay, so Sakura was attractive. He knew it, he could see it, and hell the whole damn world could see it. But Sasuke wasn't interested in her like that… anymore. Itachi could have her. He sighed, fingering the curtain now obscuring his aniki and team mate from view. He knew his brother would realise he was there if he came any closer, so he settled for trying to listen in on their conversation instead.

Weeks of stalking had gone out the window, been humiliated in front of the whole of Konoha and been buried for good measure... what were the chances Itachi wouldn't make him pay for that, once things had calmed down with Sakura?

They were currently arguing, their voices raised, which was why Sasuke didn't have to strain to hear them. He wondered if it had anything to do with the "propriety training" his mother so condescendingly suggested. To be fair, the Uchiha matriarch probably thought she was helping, but...

"Fine!" Sakura's loud retort cut off his thoughts. "I give up! Create a clone and marry yourself, you pompous jerk!"

Itachi's response was too soft for Sasuke to hear; a loud crash followed the mumbled sounds and Sasuke risked a look, just in time to see a priceless antique smash against the wall behind Itachi. He grabbed her wrists after that, and Sasuke watched, suddenly wide eyed, as his aniki pulled his team mate close... and nuzzled her hair. Sakura immediately blushed, the faint pink that tinted her cheeks slowly darkening. He was whispering something in her ear, and it was definitely lascivious, because the next thing Sasuke knew, he was struggling not to gag... they were making out.

"Sasuke..."

Sasuke snapped out of his reverie as he realised Sakura had mumbled his name. What the hell?

"We know you're there," Itachi warned him.

Sakura stalked toward Sasuke's hiding place, and yanked the shoji door aside, almost ripping it off of its hinges. She was glaring at him. "Get out of here, Sasuke!"

Itachi chuckled. "Any advice now, Sasuke?"

Sasuke grunted. "Don't assume she's just in it for the sex, whatever you do–you'll regret it... painfully."

Sakura was in a state of shock as the younger Uchiha left, seemingly unruffled by being caught red handed.

"He's so wise," Itachi joked, pulling a chagrin Sakura toward himself.

Outside, Sasuke groaned to himself. A flushed, beautiful Sakura was not helping his faux indifference. He really needed to get out of here and get laid.

–XXX–

Rule number eight on how to catch an Uchiha: acceptance.

A few days later, they were arguing again, but from what Sasuke could hear, it wasn't so much about the idea of them getting married this time, but the planning–from who to tell to who to invite. Nothing was official yet, so they were keeping their decision close to the vest.

Sasuke left the feuding couple behind, to go find Naruto; the dobe was always at Ichiraku's for breakfast, lunch, and dinner when they didn't have a mission, or if Sasuke hadn't invited his team to his place per his mother's "suggestion". He slipped into Ichiraku a few minutes later, having wandered there more on autopilot than anything else.

"Hey teme!" Naruto greeted him enthusiastically. "You just escape?"

Naruto was, unfortunately, Sasuke's confidante. The blonde knew about his problems with their team mate's love life, as well as his own abysmal one. Sasuke would've talked to Kakashi about this, but the man was a thirty-plus year old with no intention of settling down, so what did he know?

Sasuke grunted an answer and settled next to his best friend, ordering a bowl of pork ramen.

Naruto chuckled. "You're in so much shit."

"No shit."

The blonde almost fell off his seat laughing. Reflexively, Sasuke reached out and thumped his back as he started choking.

"Th-thanks," Naruto stuttered out.

And as he found his voice again, he started prattling on about his new training regime, pervy sage's strict diet which he was NOT adhering to, come rain, hail, or the next Shinobi War, and a new jutsu he wanted to try out in the hot springs later that Jiraiya taught him.

"You go invisible!" Naruto whispered hoarsely, as though there were spies everywhere. "No getting caught this time!"

"Thanks Naruto, I'll tell all the other girls that."

Naruto froze in his seat, but Sasuke glowered at Sakura's interruption. That had sounded like a worthy jutsu.

She glared at Naruto for a moment, and then decided to let it go–the next time she went to the hot springs, she'd just put up a few seals to render his new jutsu inert. She was here for Sasuke.

"I was looking for you actually, Sasuke. I want you to stop stalking Itachi and me."

Sasuke frowned at her. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm not an idiot, Sasuke," she said, growling.

"I know that."

"And I don't care if you approve of me and Itachi," she added. Still, it mattered to Itachi, and she didn't really want to alienate Sasuke, but if he didn't stop looking at her like she was an idiot, he was going to the hospital. "Stop gawking at me."

Sasuke wasn't sure what to say. A number of things came to mind, but none of them sounded like things that wouldn't put her in a homicidal mood. If he told her he'd known about them for weeks, he'd be in even deeper shit. His stalking tendencies had started as a way to cure boredom, and to avoid Naruto when the dobe was looking to find a pranking or peeking partner. Now, they were out of control–not that he would admit it–and she was cottoning on. He wondered how long it took Itachi to realise, and why he hadn't said anything earlier.

"Sakura-chan?" Naruto interrupted, drawing her fire. "Sasuke-teme promises to support you and keep his perving eyes off of you, now that you're having regular sex with his brother, 'k?"

She blinked heavily, and Sasuke's eyes widened.

"It's not proper to talk about sex in public, dobe." Sasuke warned him.

That was what his father had told him anyway.

Naruto gave them both a huge grin, ignoring his best friend's obvious irritation. "After all, it was his idea that his teme brother stop putting so much pressure on you to marry, right?"

Sakura frowned at Sasuke, like she was trying to figure him out.

Sasuke tensed, waiting for the inevitable (attempted) pounding. Instead, Sakura threw her arms around him, half squeezing the life out of him. "Thank-you," she whispered. Feeling mischievous however, Sakura threw him a teasing grin when she pulled away. "The make-up sex was awesome!"

Sasuke's body went rigid... they were already having sex? He shuddered. Of course they were.

"You don't need my acceptance," he told her. "Just spare me the details and it's all good."

Well, partially. He didn't mind the mental images of Sakura that her words induced... but the ones that had her with his brother...

Disgusting.

–XXX–

Rule number nine on how to catch an Uchiha: respect.

Sunlight streamed through, between the bamboo lattice that made up the screen for the front wraparound patio of the Uchiha main house. If there were birds nearby, he was sure they were tweeting and chirping, or whatever birds did when they were happy, just as he felt like doing. It was a good day.

Sasuke sighed deeply. The whole fucking shite with Itachi and Sakura was finally over; they were now officially engaged. His father was finally getting and respecting that the pinkette wasn't some docile lamb. His mother was looking for her future daughter in law's input in the wedding plans. Sakura's own parents were over the moon. The Uchiha clan elders had approved the match-up. Itachi looked more content than Sasuke had ever seen him.

And most importantly, Sasuke could finally breathe easy. They had involved him long enough.

Entering the house in the middle of their post-negotiations hadn't been a good idea however; as soon as she spotted him, Mikoto glanced at her younger son, and Sasuke knew that look–now that Itachi was sorted out, he could expected to be nagged now, to find a nice girl to settle down with. He swallowed heavily, terrified beyond measure.

The matriarch removed her stare and responded to his father as the man demanded her attention.

Itachi spared his otouto a glance, noting that he wanted to run far away, as soon as possible. But he had another surprise for Sasuke, and running away was not an option. He indicated to him silently, not to go anywhere, and Sasuke threw him a glare before acquiescing.

He took the chair furthest from the family scene–Sakura's parents were being hard asses about the impeding wedding bill, but it was looking good.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, when Shisui sidled up next to him.

His cousin shrugged. "Thought it would be entertaining to see the family go crazy over party decorations. What do you think about all this?"

Sasuke's eye twitched in irritation as he watched the way his father was ordering his mother about, grateful that Itachi would never get away with trying that shit with Sakura. "Respect is a waste of time if it isn't mutual."

–XXX–

Rule number seven on how to catch an Uchiha: loyalty.

The months had gone by quickly, and the well-publicised wedding of the year was about to begin.

It hadn't been easy, getting here, and even the best man had felt every bump in that rollercoaster. Sasuke had suffered, bled, sweated and cried... figuratively speaking, so his brother chose him over Shisui to be best man; like he was supposed to feel privileged. It wasn't like he would be returning the favour.

If he chose anyone other than Naruto for best man at his own wedding, the blonde would never forgive him.

Shifting slightly next to Itachi, Sasuke checked his watch, groaning at the time.

"Calm down."

"Yeah Sasuke," Naruto cooed, bouncy lightly on his other side. "It's Sakura-chan and Itachi's wedding, not yours."

"Shut up, dobe."

Why oh, why, did Itachi invite the blonde idiot to this?

Naruto just laughed, and slapped him on the back. "See you in there."

Not being a part of the ceremony, the lucky bastard was allowed to go in right away and find a seat–he'd probably be looking for Hinata, wanting to sit next to her, but conveniently "forgetting" that she was here with her family, and Hiashi terrified him.

"I understand now," Sasuke said, once the dobe was gone, glancing at his aniki. "Why you chose Sakura as your wife."

Itachi stared at him incredulously, his placid façade cracking slightly–he hid his nervousness well, given the givens. "Sasuke... what are you talking about?"

"It was touch and go there, with her temper, and she's still rough around the edges, but Sakura has all the makings of a fine matriarch."

Itachi couldn't believe what he was hearing. Sasuke was advocating their father's teachings? "Nothing father has taught us about finding an appropriate wife matters, Sasuke. Don't forget that."

Sasuke frowned. "So, you weren't looking for any of those things?"

Itachi shook his head. "No otouto, I wasn't."

"But father said‒"

"The rules are a guideline, Sasuke. When you fall in love, all those petty rules go out the window and nothing else matters."

Sasuke coughed, starting choking and gasped as Itachi slapped him on the back helpfully. "You love Sakura?"

"Yes otouto, as hard as it is for you to believe, I love Sakura-chan."

"Chan?"

Itachi smirked. "I see; I would hope you understood that marrying for love, though rare in our clan, is still a perfectly reasonable choice."

Sasuke nodded, his mind whirring. How could he not have even considered they were in love? It was so obvious, now that he did think about it.

"Come now, it's starting."

Sasuke looked around, wincing as he remembered his part in this bloody thing. The reminder was wearing her maid of honour dress and gazing at him like he was a piece of meat as she approached him expectantly.

He reluctantly took Ino Yamanaka's arm, trying desperately to avoid eye contact with her as they walked up the aisle–as best man and maid of honour, respectively The woman was nothing if not persistent. He was to be officially engaged to a tenth cousin or something or other, unless he found someone as worthy as Sakura, like Itachi did (and Ino Yamanaka, the heiress to her own clan, was not in that calibre), but he wasn't taking it seriously. He had time. Hell, Itachi had recently turned twenty-five; Sasuke's future was not so closely monitored (his mother didn't count as a platoon of overbearing Elders), so he had time to decide on his own.

And he would not be marrying a whinny, blonde idiot–or any idiot, for that matter. Fangirls were off the list, as were members of clans outside his own–the latter involving politics he'd rather avoid like the plague. He kind of liked the idea of a civilian.

Sasuke refrained from outwardly wincing as Ino's hold on his arm became painful. He quickly distracted himself from the nuisance as they finished their walk... and removed himself from her just as quickly, hurrying a little faster than necessary to his brother's side.

Itachi gave him a knowing, annoying smirk. The dress rehearsals had been a nightmare, but at least now, it was done with. Sasuke planned to sneak out the back after the toasts at the reception, and go get drunk with some of the guys; he'd so far roped Shikamaru, Kiba, and Neji into agreeing to it–Naruto had invited himself.

Ino made a gushing sound and reluctantly, Sasuke followed her line of sight.

Sakura looked beautiful... radiant and princess-like worked too. He couldn't believe the image of poise and beauty walking down the aisle on her father's arm was the same little girl who'd followed him around when they were young. She was now the woman marrying Itachi. She was now the imminent Uchiha matriarch-to-be. She was... having regular sex with his aniki, he reminded himself, and pushed down his suddenly lascivious thoughts.

And with that thought, Sasuke felt all the anxiety leave his body, not sure why he was so nervous to begin with–Itachi was the one that was going to be stuck with Sakura for the rest of his life, after all.

The Shinto priest got straight to the point–another Uchiha trait–and the gushing crowd grew quiet and respectful.

Itachi recited his vows first, his thoughts never far from the woman staring up at him. He'd memorised the words, and they fell from his lips easily. There was nothing left to do but show Sakura, and everyone present, how much he was looking forward to spending the rest of his life with her. Such a tender, volatile and persistent woman she'd become–she was going to make his life interesting. Not to mention the fact that she was currently six weeks pregnant–a fact they'd decided to keep to themselves until the hype from their wedding was over. That was another thing he was looking forward to seeing: her swollen with his child.

Sakura's rehearsed words came next. She'd rewritten it so many times that she still felt slightly nervous about them. But looking up into those dark, all-seeing eyes, she couldn't help but smile, the tension leaving her body at his loving gaze. The future she was envisioning involved a lot more of what they'd done so far. Itachi was such a warm, loving person, when he wanted to be. Even his façade of detachment was never meant to insult anyone. He was so strange, and so very different to everyone else, how could she possibly not become enamoured? He was her future, as much as the child growing inside of her was. She couldn't wait.

And the kiss was a reminder to them both that this was only the beginning–a bit sensual, light tongue, and mildly ferocious, it got a few cat-calls from their less restrained guests.

Sasuke smiled slightly, watching his aniki and new sister-in-law as he followed at a respectful distance behind them, walking back down the aisle as newlyweds, and whispered, "Don't break her heart."

–XXX–

#itasaku #itachi x sakura #fanfiction #my ao3 #All images are not mine

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ixar-of-the-bargains · 1 year

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Apart from the outrageous amount of rape and the frankly jarring outlook of "if you're even in any way whatsoever not horrible at any given time and even assume that your counterparts will not break convention to do you harm in a setting where it's outright said that the trap of convention and unwritten, unenforceable codes of conduct are literally what leaves stones on the top of each other, you're a sucker and you're going to die for shock factor purposes in the middle of your arc" (both of which, I've heard people argue and I'm inclined to agree with, are basically what GRRM writes things as a vehicle to present, and has done so since the 70s), the biggest problem I have with GRRM's narrative choices is confirming (at least kind of) from the viewpoint of a mostly reliable narrator (for this particular case at least, heavens know Cersei's the opposite of a reliable narrator even on a good day) that Joffrey, Tommen, and Myrcella are in fact Jaime's kids. Because real genetics doesn't work like that? It's entirely possible for a child not to resemble one of their parents while looking oddly like their uncle who is their mother's twin for fuck's sake. "Every other Baratheon had black hair and blue eyes" doesn't mean shit. And we already know incest doesn't really work that way in Westeros because the Targaryens are mostly without any defects and it's perfectly reasonable to assume their "maddness" is directly related to trauma, the stress of sitting on a chair that regularly injures you, and tbh basically being left with a whole continent at your mercy without anyone to answer to. GRRM could just have let Cersei not confirm it in her own POV (iirc? Idrk if she did and if she didn't this whole post is moot so lmao) and rather left it vague (because short of "I never let Robert inseminate me after out firstborn ended up being stillborn", there's no way to know for sure)

Because honestly whether Joffrey is Robert's or not is the main cause of the entire War of the Five Kings (apart from Robb marching down south to get his father freed anyway) so confirming it in-story just cheapens the whole thing. The funniest part is that whether or not Joffrey really is Robert's or not simply doesn't matter. Stannis will still assume that they aren't and will, through Jon Arryn, get Ned to come south to make a mess with his stupidity. Renly will still use the same accusation to pretend for the throne the moment Robert dies. Cersei will try to get Robert killed because honestly why wouldn't she? Joffrey will still ask for Ned's head when he gets outplayed (and honestly this isn't even about cruelty. Ned accused his dad of being a cuckold, his mom of being an incesteous adultress, himself of being a bastard, and a usurper to the rightful ruler -his uncle. Any of these is enough to get his tongue ripped out and his head chopped off (as seen in canon) and at some point when you pile up the accusations the guy just won't be likely to let you take the Black. And since Joffrey even deigned to arrest Ned when he tried to stage a coup, the Startks and the Tullys will be marching south and Tywin will send the Mountain to go fuck the Riverlands. Whether or not the accusations are true doesn't change any of this. Or what comes after. Sidenote: Anyone who told Ned Stark he wasn't fit for courtly intrigue had the right idea.

#asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #game of thrones #ned stark #eddard stark #cersei lannister #jaime lannister #tywin lannister #joffrey baratheon #robert baratheon

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azuisreading · 11 months

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Nothing Between Us by Manda Mazanec

Meera Taylor is ready to start the life she’s always dreamed of. Gone are the days of living out of her car and hiding from her past. With an apartment she can finally call her own and a new career, Meera agrees to give the small town of Morganville a chance at being her forever home. The only problem? She can’t seem to evade Gabriel Henry, the one man she was told to avoid and yet the same sexy grump who seems hell-bent on stealing her independence—and her heart. Earning himself a reputation as a womanizer, single dad Gabe has zero interest in settling down. He doesn’t believe in romance or soulmates. He’s well aware of Meera’s less-than-stellar opinion of him, and that’s okay. She isn’t his type anyway. But when Meera’s estranged husband shows up in Morganville, Gabe finds himself coming to her defense and coming lip to lip with what might just be his needle in a haystack.

Review

I was part of this fabulous book’s ARC team and am writing a review because I loved it. A new addition to my comfort reading shelf.

The title line appears one time in the book and then it seems to appear again but it’s different. And I loved it. I also loved a lot of the story details, if not all.

Meera gave me clumsy girl vibes at the start, but she’s just an unlucky woman and with that I can relate. Her past is heavy and hasn’t finished with her yet, and though I haven’t experienced many of her circumstances, it wasn’t an obstacle to relate with her (finally, because it’s a common struggle with female protagonists).

Gabe… sighs. It was love at first encounter. And it was hard not to fall in love again each time he reappeared in the scene. And his POVs?! To die for. He can try to lie to himself (and Meera too, given the case), but, as the cover says, one only can do it for so long.

I love, I love, I love soulmate hints. Just special conditions like this one for second opportunities. I haven’t dived enough, but it’s just so much enjoyable when he’s a single dad (and the daughter is so lovely). When the kid gives their permission and consent because the person the parent wants is just so right, for the kid, for the parent, for both of them, it’s just so… beautiful and fulfilling. When he’s so stubborn to admit it, but has obviously fallen hard, and is showing it so much for everyone but is so blind to notice it themselves. I will always love a bit more communication, but one can only do so much, and we are never perfect as humans. Oh! Of course, the protective man, and not just because he’s such a good boy, but because he just doesn’t want you to touch her. Even when she’s fighting for her independence, she accepts that the feeling he gives her is so empowering.

And there’s so much forgiving and proper healing that I haven’t seen before! You can be a bad person and not deserve it, but they will do everything in their power to make you go on the right path. Not only that, they will try to help everyone they can to not pass through what they lived through. There’s no reason to not help each other. We’re all here trying to do the best we can and we don’t have to do it alone, we can do better and reach farther with help.

This book gives so many pieces… I find courage, peace, support, and healing. It was so empowering and inspiring. So endearing and dreamy. A bit frustrating, because c’mon! But happy. Happy and calm and satisfying. It’s so much more than just a romance. It’s fresh air.

Phrases that I liked so much that I marked them while reading

«“It looks like you hit your head pretty good on the way down,” he says, placing a small ice pack on my forehead. “Though I don’t know how because you never made it to the floor.” “Oh,” I say as I touch my forehead, heat rising up my neck. “This is from earlier.” I leave out the part where I lost the fight with the utility pole.» — Chapter Two.

«And I have a hard limit when it comes to making a fool out of myself. Once a day is enough.» — Chapter Two.

«Her eyes grow dark as she says those four beautiful words I live for. “Get that fucking bastard.”» — Chapter Four.

«“It’s complicated.” “Then uncomplicate it.” I suck in a breath at the demand. Normal people would have taken my comment as a sign to stop asking questions. But Meera is anything but normal.» — Chapter Six.

«I force out the oxygen trapped inside my chest and do what lawyers do best. I deflect.» — Chapter Six.

«Once she’s chucked the carpet into the dumpster, she studies me, as if she’s trying to figure out whether she should let me into her apartment or throw me out with the carpet.» — Chapter Six.

«“Come on. We can talk and walk at the same time.” “How do you do that?” I ask, propelling my feet forward again. “Do what?” “That.” “Well, if you must know, I place one foot in front of the other, making sure to shift my weight evenly as I go.”» — Chapter Nine.

«“You’re making this more difficult than it needs to be. Just ask me what it is you want to know.”» — Chapter Nine.

«“You left your purse and room key at the reception.” “Nice try. My purse was on the nightstand, next to the bed.” “It pains me to have to tell you how much of a gentleman I really am,” he says solemnly. I scowl again. “By the time we got back to the bed-and-breakfast, you were out cold. I realized you didn’t have your purse, and since I knew you had an early flight out, I tucked you in and ran back out to get it for you.”» — Chapter Nine.

«My stomach twists. Because I want her to be bummed. I want her to want me to stick around. Hell, I want me to stick around.» — Chapter Ten.

«I know I shouldn’t enter the surgical room, but tell that to the side of my brain that actually gives a fuck.» — Chapter Twelve.

«“Honey, you don’t have to explain a thing. If Sophie wants to draw a picture for you, you’re already a rock star in my book.”» — Chapter Thirteen.

«“I tried to convince her to stay. I offered her a warm meal, and when I walked out of the room to grab plates, she disappeared. Took Sophie with her.” Evelyn breathes out a long, steady breath. “You have no idea how hard that was. To know that child was about to endure more trauma all because I turned my back.”» — Chapter Thirteen.

«I turn back to get Meera’s bag, but Tom stands in my way. When I move toward him, ready to barrel through him if I have to, he put his hands up. “Okay. Okay.”» — Chapter Fourteen.

«“Thank you,” she says, “for all of that.” She waves at the door and the juice box. “But I could have handled it.” “I know, but I’m glad I got here when I did. I wouldn’t want to lie to the police. [...] We’d have to hide the body, and I’m not good at lying. Never have been.” Meera throws her head back and guffaws.» — Chapter Fourteen.

«and though her laugh is my new favorite thing, her confusion is adorable.» — Chapter Fourteen.

«“He knew my grandma would smother me with love but worried that I wouldn’t survive without knowing how to hang cabinet doors.”» — Chapter Fourteen.

«but catching Tom there, trying to hurt her, was enough for me to want to camp out on her deck and make sure Mr. Up to No Good didn’t return.» — Chapter Sixteen.

«“Darlene wasn’t my type.” “She’s gorgeous. I’m surprised she isn’t your type.” “We’re two very different people.” “Ah, so she’s nice?” “Funny,” I growl.» — Chapter Twenty.

«“I want to know.”» — Chapter Twenty-One.

«“How do I fix this for you?”» — Chapter Twenty-One.

«“A raccoon? That thing looks like a man-eating vampire with four legs.”» — Chapter Twenty-One.

«I stomp on my brakes and then look in my rearview window. No one is behind me, thank fucking God. “You what?”» — Chapter Twenty-Five.

«“You won’t be inconveniencing anyone. You’re going to have to learn that it’s okay to lean on others. I think you’ve been on your own for far too long. You’ve forgotten what it’s like to be cared for.”» — Chapter Twenty-Five.

«“I need to hear it, Meera. I need to hear you consent to this.”» — Chapter Twenty-Six.

«“You can lie to yourself all you want, Gabriel, but I know you better than you think. I’ve never seen you look at a girl the way you look at her.”» — Chapter Twenty-Nine.

«“I saw how fast you ran to her at the bar when other men took interest,” she continues. “And the way you pulled out the chair for her at dinner…” She laughs. “You’ve invited plenty of people over in the past, but never, not once, have you looked like you were completely captivated by a woman’s presence.”» — Chapter Twenty-Nine.

«Every time, I assumed she didn’t want to inconvenience me. But I realize now that it was never about that. She wanted to learn how to do things on her own. She didn’t need me to do those things for her. She just needed the support.» — Chapter Twenty-Nine.

«“I’m sorry,” I start. It’s as good a place as any.» — Chapter Twenty-Nine.

«And there it is. The first memory. When she sauntered through the front door to the Tipsy Brew Garage three years ago. That’s the moment I lost the ability to think straight. Ever since that day, I’ve been a fucking mess. Except it’s actually the day I cleaned up my mess. Because three years ago, I feel for a woman I didn’t even know. Because breathing the same air she breathed made me want to be a better man. And her presence in my life again after all this time might mean I finally have the chance I missed out on then.» — Chapter Twenty-Nine.

«My response to Gabe wasn’t a lie. I am okay. I’m in my apartment with my door locked, and I’m breathing.» — Chapter Thirty.

«“I’m sorry.” “Sorry? Stop that shit. Every time you say those words, you’re taking responsibility for something, and you didn’t do anything wrong.”» — Chapter Thirty-Two.

«He places his hands on either side of my face and dips his head, brushing his nose against mine. “I’m going to kiss you right now. Please don’t pull away.”» — Chapter Thirty-Two.

«“Did he hit you?” This is when Meera grows quiet. I know this kind of silence. I’ve seen it before with my mom. “Ask her that in a different way,” I say. Meera and both officers turn to me in unison. “She doesn’t want to lie to you. She won’t say he hit her if he didn’t actually hit her. But ask her if he hurt her. Look at her wrist. Look at her throat.”» — Chapter Thirty-Three.

«I can’t help but feel a bit of pride when she repeats that last part. Because she took my advice, and that might have been what saved her life.» — Chapter Thirty-Three.

«“You’re staying with me until the cops have Tom behind bars.” When I huffed at his ridiculous suggestion, he grabbed a bag from the top shelf of my closet and pulled out a drawer, ready to pack the damn thing himself. With a frustrated huff, I pushed him out of my way and tossed clothing and my toiletry bag into the duffel he refused to set down.» — Chapter Thirty-Four.

«“If I get obnoxious, I give you permission to put me in my place.”» — Chapter Thirty-Four.

«“But this morning, when you wouldn’t wake up, when those paramedics stabbed you with that glucose pen and you wouldn’t respond… the fear I’d been running from? It was nothing compared to what I felt then.”» — Chapter Thirty-Six.

«I can’t take it any longer. If he tells me he’s not done one more time, I’m going to lose it.» — Chapter Thirty-Six.

«I’d never been invested enough to fall in love, but maybe that’s because I hadn’t met the right person.» — Chapter Forty-One.

«“I need to say something, but I don’t want you to panic.” I’m already panicking enough for the both of us.» — Chapter Forty-One.

«I can’t believe I’m doing this, but Jack was right. I was scared. I’d fallen for Meera, and I didn’t know what to do with that. But I won’t hide anymore. I’ll face these feelings head-on, and if Meera doesn’t feel the same way, then I’ll deal with that later.» — Chapter Forty-One.

«He waits, holding me hostage with a look of pure adoration.» — Chapter Epilogue.

#nothing between us #manda mazanec #reading #review #book review #book blog #booklover

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witching-by-the-willow · 11 months

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Hey bestie!!Hello fellow anon!Ily both sm rn cause for some unknown reason I’ve been extra obsessed with kotw and can’t stop thinking about it.Literally.I’m reading every single goodreads review cause it’s the closest thing to discussing it.

Anyways sooo…Pride’s definitely the problem lol. Was Vittoria the only one Pride supposedly cheated on her with?This is not only miscommunication lmao.Wasn’t he kissing Vittoria and you can’t tell me he had no feeling at all for her.That’s cheating. That being said I wanted to discuss some things I noticed like I got the feeling Lucia didn’t leave only because of the whole Vittoria thing.That seemed like the final push and isn’t she happy and well rn?Why tf would they send her to hell’s version of Italy and not the actual Italy tho…

Also, I could swear it was said that Pride’s wife and her sisters’s hearts were torn from their chests.That’s why we all thought of them being the twins.So why the inconsistency?I’m pretty sure Kerri just changed her mind or forgot mentioning that.

Alsooo…I could also swear Claudia lost her mind in the first book.How come she’s fine and well outta nowhere?Not that I’m unhappy about it.I love her.She’s a sweetheart.I love both her and Vittoria way more than Pride,but strangely I kinda like him too,not sure why.And the irony of them being besties while everyone was trying to keep them apart isn’t lost on me.

Vittoria’s definitely unhinged and aggressive but she’s so interesting imo.I loved reading about her in kotw and that didn’t change in kotf.Can’t wait to read more about her.She brings the flavor…

Ahh wouldn’t be all love more of our collective baby Sloth

Can I just say, I love how some of you are having conversations through my askbox as anons? Like, this is so wholesome and fun to see 😂❤️

Lmao I also read every Goodreads review and listened to all podcasts I could find about this book while waiting for KOTC and after that KOTF, so I relate hard with you. 💀💀

And okay, coming to this. Not a surprise to anyone, it once again is a man who is that problem. 💀💀

Pride definitely fucked up big time, and I do definitely think he and Vittoria do have some unresolved feelings for each other, which is what makes this triangle a hot mess, I suppose? Like, the only thing that could make this even more unhinged, is if Vittoria and Lucia/Claudia also end up attracted to each other ajfhajbfjangnang (okay but listen, they were friends as "mortals". They did dates and everything. Is it really such a stretch to thing Claudia and Vittoria kissed at some point? Is it? Hmm? 👀)

"hell's version of Italy and not actual Italy" is sending me kahfjajgkabgja I would be so sour if I was Lucia lol. Though I think it's keep her protected with the shadow/star witches (I think that's what they're called?), and also because the Shifting Isles are never stagnant, I believe there was something about how they exist in multiple intersections of time and space simultaneously? so I think it would be way harder to find someone in there than in the real, mortal-world Italy.

Okay, I don't remember this well, so correct me if I'm wrong. But I think the part about pride's wife and her sister having their hearts torn was in the Wrath POV bonus chapter? And that was, I believe, one of the initial crafts that Kerri Maniscalco was writing. So there are lots of things in those chapters that don't match with the book we got. I think they're meant more as some fun add-ons to read, rather than missing parts of the books we got.

And about Claudia losing her mind..... I'm pretty sure that was one of the witches, right? Like, even with Sofia Santorini, it was Nonna Maria who made her go mad, rather than her actually going insane. So they probably did something similar to Claudia ti get her away from scrying (because then she'd start remembering), and then fixed her, because well. You can't fuck up you boss' daughter like that permanently when she entrusted you to care for her. 💀💀💀

YES, them being besties even when they were always meant to be apart? Look what happens when there's no man to be fighting over. 🤌🤌

Oh yeah, Vittoria is interesting to read about, yes. But my gripe with her character is more like.... she's not exactly morally gray for most of her arc. She keeps switching between being absolutely diabolical, to being shown as an all-in-all good person. And that's more of a writing inconsistency. Like, I like the unhingedness, but I would really appreciate if we can decide what role her character is going to have in the story, you know? Because right now it seems like she is being swinged to play whatever part suits the point the story of the other characters is at, as opposed to having her own role and arc. So perhaps with more development, I'd appreciate her character more.

And oh yes, Sloth's time to shine when???

#asks #anons my beloved #💕#prince pride #lucia #vittoria di carlo #I am tempted to start tagging them as 'the dumpster fire triangle' 💀💀💀#should I?#kingdom of the wicked #kerri maniscalco

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thezolblade · 1 year

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When do you think Found Wanting's Jon realized he had feelings for Martin?

Hm, my original thought was that it was right after Martin confessed aloud to having feelings for him, when he had to decide what to do about that as an immediate and realistic option, and realized he didn't really want to shut this down.

While I've been writing out more of Jon's pov, it's shifted a bit. So it's more like he realised he felt something he couldn't dismiss as nonexistent around the time Martin fell asleep, then tried to dismiss it as his mind misfiring under stress instead, and told himself that he could get over it quickly, with his denial getting more desperate and less convincing. Then when he got a confession out of Martin, he decided he could act on it and dropped the denial completely.

I could pin the details to one route or another, to make it so that Jon's side of things was option A in one timeline and option B in another. Haven't fully decided.

Here's a few paragraphs of Jon's internal crisis beneath the cut, if you feel like reading what I've got at this point. Brief nsfw text. Hopefully it reads like a version of Jon that's on the verge of falling apart and making it Martin's problem.

He didn't really want Martin that way, outside of a few bizarre fantasies, completely divorced from reality. There was no genuine appeal to the thought of bringing him home and putting him in his place, bending him over the edge of the bed and shoving his face into the blankets to muffle his moans as he took out all his frustrations from these last few months, striking him until his ass glowed, fingering him open and fucking him until he screamed...

No, no, he couldn't want that. He couldn't. Martin wasn't interested. He'd never shown any sign of interest. Jon couldn't proposition him out of nowhere. And he wouldn't force the matter, as if his feelings were any justification for assaulting someone completely disinterested. He wasn't capable of overpowering him anyway. Martin was broad and strong, and he wouldn't listen, he never really listened, even when they were talking about things that were perfectly professional and reasonable, Martin would smile and nod as if he understood, as if he cared, but then he never followed through, he never really had his back... It was never going to happen.

It had been years since he'd last felt this way. Last time, he'd had no choice but to give up, and he'd sworn that the next time would be different. He wouldn't go his whole life without getting to be with anyone he truly wanted.

Why had his libido woken up now? What was so special about Martin, of all people? He would never like him back after the way he'd treated him. He'd ruined this before it had even begun.

No, no, he couldn't really be falling for him. This was just a matter of all the recent stress getting to him, messing with his head with all the intensity of a fever dream. He was finally ready to move on from Georgie, and he wasn't getting out enough to meet anyone appropriate, so his mind had latched onto an overfamiliar face. Surely he could get past this quickly, without waiting the better part of another decade for the feelings to fade. He just needed to set aside some evenings for himself, and get back into the dating scene, without giving up this time. He had to make small talk with strangers again and again, until he could convince himself to feel something for one of them. Wasn't fucking the same person enough times supposed to generate feelings? It had never worked before, but he could find someone willing, and try again, and maybe they wouldn't notice that he was thinking about someone else...

What if he took Tim up on an offer to go out for drinks, and asked him to arrange a date with a friend of a friend? Back in Research, he'd been more than willing to play matchmaker, and Jon had always replied 'maybe another time', trying to humour him even though he wasn't in the mood. Those offers had dried up lately, but only because he'd been too busy to go out after work. They were still friends, weren't they? He could kick start his social life, with a friend like Tim on his side. He'd find someone better than Martin, someone he could respect and rely on.

Martin could carry on sleeping here, of course, until it was safe for him to go home. Would he want to come along for drinks, if the whole team went out together? There was safety in numbers, after all. Would Martin be uncomfortable, seeing him pick up someone else? No, why would he be? There was no reason for Martin to feel jealous, unless he felt something, and he'd been keeping quiet about it for obvious reasons... Oh fuck, if he thought Jon was taken, then he'd keep his mouth shut forever, wouldn't he? Maybe they should talk first, just in case. No, no, what was he thinking? He couldn't proposition an employee who'd never shown any interest. Could he win him over gradually, if he didn't rush into anything else? No, no, no, he couldn't afford to stew in these feelings. He'd be miserable for years unless he shook off this crush before it settled into his bones.

He picked up his phone in search of a distraction. Maybe he could ask Tim and Sasha how their field work had gone. Ah, no, it had gotten too late to text them. He'd have to wait until they were back in the office tomorrow.

If he couldn't focus on work, and he couldn't talk to anyone, then he ought to call it a night. Sleep, and maybe the world would be a kinder place in the morning.

[Then he falls into his statement nightmares, and has to watch Beholding torture Naomi and Melanie for a while. Then he wakes up thoroughly on edge, picks an argument with Martin, and jumps on his confession as a chance to pursue what he wants after all. ]

#heart of the disaster #tma thoughts #rozzlynn's fanfic

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formulawonu · 3 years

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Hi! I have a request for you if you can, can a request based on “champagne problems” by taylor swift where either daniel, lando, lewis or carlos are dating the reader and think it’s time to propose, and they do it in front of their families or the whole grid but the reader says no, and they broke up, and years later they run into each other again and talk. you can choose the ending between fluff or keep it angst.

champagne problems / lewis hamilton

(gif is not mine! credits to the owner)

warnings: angsty :'(

a/n: i fell in love with this request, thank you so much for it. i got immensely sad writing the last few lines of this :/ taylor swift knows what she is doing. i hope my writing did justice to this beautifully sad song <//3 tried doing smth different and wrote in third person/more of lewis' pov. big cheers to lewis getting 100 wins — what an incredible feat!!! hope you guys enjoy this one :D

He thinks he sees her from across the room but an extra glance tells him it’s not her. She wouldn’t show up here. That isn’t her — something he’s had to learn ever since she left his life two years ago. He is here with someone new and she reminds him of the stars that never fail to show up in the night sky every night. She is constant and he doesn’t need to second guess with her. She understands who he is and knows what he thinks. He is genuinely happy. But she is not her.

“I would like to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?” He says, looking up at the love of his life from where he is kneeling. They are surrounded by his family and their friends. The most important people in their lives that have become an extension of who they are and know how perfect the two of them are for each other. He planned it all out — the intimate dinner full of all the things she loved. Her favorite food, her favorite people. He wanted to make sure everything was perfect. Everyone in this room knew it was only a matter of time until they both took the next step forward in the relationship. In this moment, however, he only sees her. That is how it is whenever she is around. It feels like tunnel vision: all roads lead simply to her.

He has always believed that love was unique to different people. He is, no doubt, in love with his current girlfriend and he is so sure of that. She is the calm before and after every storm. He also knows that despite this, a piece of him and the love he is capable of giving will always remain with Y/N. He will never forget how it felt to love her, just as he knows she won’t ever forget loving him.

Something is wrong. All he sees is her and yet she looks terrified. Tears are forming in her eyes and there is an emotion that he can’t quite place yet. It is an emotion he doesn’t see often. “Y/N?” He whispers, trying to read her. At this moment, he doesn’t care that everyone is standing around the both of them. He just wants to make sure she is okay. She looks away from him and looks around the room. He squeezes her hand, trying to get her to just focus on him. He is trying to reassure her that everything is okay. She looks back at him then at the open small box in his other hand. She starts shaking her head, the tears now falling from her eyes. Everything seems to be going wrong.

“I love you, Lewis.” His girlfriend whispers as he sways her back and forth on the makeshift dance floor. It is his friend’s wedding. “I love you more.” He is satisfied with the way his life has turned out. It was difficult the first few months she had left his life and he honestly thought life wouldn’t be okay again. Everything reminded him of her. There were pieces of her in his apartment and pieces of her everywhere he went. Time passed by so slowly as if it wanted him to sink in the emptiness that came when he lost her. But he met her — she made everything bright again and allowed him to see colors in the world that turned grey. She was patient with him. She took the time to understand him and let him find himself again. He is happy. He is in love.

“I- I can’t.” She whispers, still shaking her head. The tears won’t stop falling from her eyes. He understands the emotion in her eyes now. She is overwhelmed. It is regret. He can feel tears building up in his own. Everything begins to spin around the two of them. “Lewis, I… I can’t.” He tries to remain holding her hand, but she forces hers out of his hold. He looks up at her, speechless. There are so many things he wants to tell her. He wants to tell her to forget about everyone around the two of them. He wants to tell her it doesn’t matter how it happens or that they don’t need to get married right away. He would be happy being engaged forever if it meant she would be by his side. He wants to tell her that they could ditch the party and just lock themselves up in their apartment if that was what she wanted. But he doesn’t. He can’t because she is long gone now. She has run outside of the room and has left him in the center of everyone’s gaze. He cannot move. He is stuck on one knee, with his mother’s ring in his hand. Everything feels like it’s in slow motion. The first thing he does is close the box and drop it in his suit pocket. He slowly stands up, refusing to look at anyone else. He doesn’t know how to react or how to be. Everything is wrong.

While he is leading his girlfriend back to their table, something catches his attention in the corner of his eye. He has to blink a couple of times, trying to register that it is actually her. There, standing by the bar, is the girl who had left him two years ago. She is standing on her own, her body language still very familiar to him. She does not want to be seen and is trying to simply be a faceless stranger in the crowd. She would not be here if she didn’t need to, but his friends are her friends too and the bride is a good friend of hers. “That’s her, isn’t it?” His girlfriend says, following his gaze. “She’s beautiful.” He flashes a smile at her, nodding. “Yeah. I didn’t think she was going to be here, actually. None of us have actually seen her since it happened.” “Do you want to say hi to her?” He fully focuses on his girlfriend now, trying to understand if she is challenging him or simply curious. All he sees is genuine questioning. “I think you should speak to her, Lewis.” He is unsure if that is the right decision. He does not know what he wants to say to her anyway. “Go. It will make you feel better, even if you don’t know what to say.” She gently nudges him towards her and he is left reluctantly walking towards the woman he has not spoken to since she left him kneeling.

“Hi.” Words escape the both of them, the casualness of a greeting seeming so unfitting for the two. “Hi.” She replies. “How ironic that we’re seeing each other here.” He offers, trying to break the ice. He is not used to this, the awkwardness enveloping the two of them when once in the past he felt he could talk about absolutely anything with her. She visibly draws back at the reminder of the last time they had seen each other too. “Why are you here, Lewis?” She asks with a smile on her face. She was never the type to beat around the bush, that much he knew. She always went straight to the point, never afraid to hear things she might not want to. Like ripping off a bandaid, she once said. “I honestly don’t know why either.” There was no point in lying to her. He doesn’t know what to say, neither does she, and yet it felt right that he could speak frankly to her about the events of the past. “You look happy,” She starts, looking genuinely pleased for him. “You deserve to be happy.” Two emotions bubble up inside of him, one he has not felt in ages. Frustration and defeat. It is all coming back to him.

“We could’ve been happy too.”

She sighs, refusing to meet his eyes. She is still surveying the room, taking in everyone celebrating the union of two lovers. He did not like that about her; she always knew how to hide her emotions. Better put, he did not like how he could not read her anymore. “I don’t want to fight you, Lewis. I didn’t come here to do that.” She picks up her glass of champagne that she has left on the counter of the bar, sipping at it. “Dom Pérignon.” She adds. The champagne she is drinking is her favorite and it is the same one that everyone was drinking the night it happened. Or should’ve happened. A wry smile forms on his face. “I know you don’t owe me an explanation nor should you have ever felt you owed me a marriage, but I just wish you talked to me about it. That was our thing. We always talked about it.” She finally meets his eyes, studying him.

“I just didn’t have anything to say.”

“How could you have nothing to say?”

“I did not know what to say.”

“Then you should’ve said that.”

“I did not have a reason, Lewis. Is that what you want to hear? When you got down on one knee, a thousand thoughts were in my head and none of them told me to say yes. I’m so sorry and you know I loved you immensely—I still do—but I could not for the life of me come up with a reason to know for sure I wanted to say yes.” Just like ripping off a bandaid.

He does not know what to say and he wants to laugh at how she is still able to leave him speechless after all this time. “Well, I’m sorry you felt that way.” That is all he is able to say in reply. “I’m sorry I couldn’t say yes.” She finally meets his eyes, the familiar gaze of the woman he once swore he would give everything up for. “My mom wants a sorry too.” He finally says after a while, trying to lighten up the mood. “I miss her.” She replies, a small smile forming on her face. His mom absolutely loved her and held a special place in her heart for her. She was just as crestfallen as he was when she saw what had taken place two years ago. “She misses you too. Everyone kind of misses you too. I don’t understand why you had to disappear.” She shakes her head. “It wasn’t me, Lewis. All of this,” She says, gesturing around the grand ballroom. “Is not me.” “Then why are you here?” He doesn’t mean it as an insult, he just wants to know. She frowns at him. “Because Joe and Louise are my good friends, Lew. I wasn’t planning to stay long, though. I just promised Louise I was going to come by and I keep my promises.” He knows she does. He shakes his head at her. “I didn’t mean it that way. It’s nice to see you again, honestly. Nice to know you’re still alive.” “I know you didn’t. But I just don’t know who I am when I’m here. It’s all so….” She pauses, trying to think of the right word. “Intense? Overwhelming? Heavy? I don’t know. It just makes you feel so small.” He nods but he still can’t grasp that she had felt this way all this time. Maybe he didn’t know her as well as he thought he did. “Don’t blame yourself, Lewis. I can see you doing that now. It was just me.” There is amusement in her eyes and he can’t understand how she is so candid about all of this. “I just don’t understand how I feel like I didn’t- don’t know who you are. I don’t know where it all went wrong.”

She studies him, noting how the creases in his forehead have formed. Something he always does when he is deep in thought. “Lewis, you knew me better than anyone else in this world and I don’t want you to ever feel like you didn’t. What we shared was good, right? It was brilliant.” She offers him a small smile, a consolation for all that has gone on between them. “I will always love you. I don’t think I need to tell you that. You will always be special to me. But what was screaming at me when you got down on one knee was that whatever was happening… It wasn’t right. And I wouldn’t forgive myself if I ever let you go into something so wholeheartedly with me in it half-heartedly. That wouldn’t be fair to you. You deserve someone who would jump into darkness headfirst with you. I hope she is that for you.” She glances around the room again, probably noticing the eyes of spectators that have now noticed the both of you together again. She is beginning to get conscious. The emotions that were beginning to reveal themselves through her eyes are disappearing once again. She is withdrawing. He nods, trying to internalize everything she has just said.

“I’m sorry I lost you. I know you don't want me to apologize, but I’m sorry we ended like that. There are times I wish you were still in my life and there are times I still think about what it would be like if it was us in this position.” His words hang in the air, the both of them looking around the room. “But I’m doing okay. She’s great - I think you two would get along, actually. I honestly hope you’re doing okay. It sucks that I don’t know what you’re doing. I hope you know that you’re still always welcome to just hang out or whatever. Have a chat to update me on your life, Y/N. Don’t be a stranger.” She nods, smiling at him. She drinks the rest of her champagne before setting the glass back on the bar counter. “That is great to hear, Lewis. I still keep up with your races, you know? A hundred wins, you’ve finally done it. No matter what, I am always going to be proud.” She places a hand on his shoulder, a fleeting squeeze on it, then she drops it. “I’ll try not to be one. But either way, just know I’ll always be rooting for you.” She straightens out her dress then tucks her hair behind her ear. “I’ve gotta go.” She says, looking up at him. He tries to remember how she looks in this moment because he knows he doesn’t know the next time their paths will ever cross again. She is in a floor-length dress and her hair falls in waves just by her shoulders. Her eyes alight with assuredness and confidence, something that he now realizes he barely saw back then. She is happy too. That is all that matters. He nods, giving her a small smile. “Goodbye, Y/N.” She smiles back at him too. “Goodbye, Lewis.” She begins to walk away, not once looking back. Just like how it was two years ago.

“Hey, Y/N.” He calls out to her. She is not far enough for him to draw attention. She turns around, her head tiled to the side. “We almost had it all, didn’t we?” She chuckles and he can feel the sadness in it. She nods, still chuckling. “We really did. Cheers.”

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chiliiscereal · 3 years

Text

Well my standards have really lowered when I comes to writing fanfiction a XD

First I didn’t want to write any at all, then I didn’t want to write for any cartoons, then I didn’t want to write for cartoon turtles... and here i am.

Here I am starting a x reader fanfiction... with the 2014/2016 version of Raph

Still a bit uncomfortable with this but I had an idea so here we go! If I like it then I’ll keep going :p

Lol what am I doing with my life XD

Too tall

Raph x tall! Fem! Reader

Summary: yes this is me self projecting. Reader is 6 foot 4 inches tall and literally every boy she meets is too insecure to date her when she’s that tall. After a while of being treated like she unbreakable and a giant she gets tired of it. Luckily there’s someone else out there who understands how she feels.

———-

You tapped the cafe table impatiently, trying not to watch your friend and her boyfriend across from you. You attempted to look at the door instead. Maybe if you stared at it long enough then your date would show up.

“It’s okay! I’m sure he’ll show up.” She tried to console you as her boyfriend held her tiny little hand.

Perfect.

Small.

You looked at your own clenched hands and wished that yours could fit so perfectly in someone else’s hands. But, sadly, big hands come with height.

No boy your age ever came close to you.

It’s not that you minded.

It’s that they did.

You didn’t care that practically every boy you met barely went up to your shoulder. You wanted companionship. You didn’t need them to be a hulking giant. You needed someone who loved you.

This wasn’t Tall Girl for goodness sake.

You weren’t waiting around for some tall man to show up.

Unfortunately no guy was willing to step up to the plate.

Why might you ask?

Insecurity of course.

The last three guys that turned you down all said they weren’t comfortable with being shorter than their girlfriend. Others said they weren’t looking for a girlfriend.

Funnily enough they all ended up with girlfriends maybe a week later.

The other girls were incredibly tiny. They barely even made it to the boys shoulders. If that.

But you thought maybe this boy would be different.

He seemed like he was.

He seemed interested at least.

He SEEMED like he was excited when you asked him on a double date with your best friend and her boyfriend.

But an hour passed already and he wasn’t there.

You sat up with a bit of a huff. “It’s fine. Let’s just... let’s just enjoy dinner.”

Your friend frowned at you but decided to let it drop. She knew you hated whenever anything like this was addressed so she bit her tongue and changed the subject.

You couldn’t enjoy dinner or pay attention to anything brought up.

Oh you tried.

You gave it the old college try.

But you found your mind wandering back to the lost date way to often.

After another thirty minutes you stood up. “You know what? I’m kind of tired and I still have some homework to finish up. You two enjoy your date!” You grabbed your bag and walked out before your friend could even call you back.

You just needed some time to yourself.

Time to think.

You walked down the sidewalk slowly, half heartedly wishing that the boy would call you and give an amazing reason as to why he was two hours late.

You stopped yourself from reaching for your phone to check for a text.

No it was his loss.

Not yours.

Surely there was someone out there for you... waiting for you to come along.

Someone that wouldn’t care if you were a little taller than them.

You huffed and zipped your bag shut. Whoever they were, they definitely weren’t that boy.

“Hey girl, who you all dressed up for?” Came a voice from the alley you were about to pass.

“No time to talk.” You answered quickly and continued walking.

You weren’t about to give them the time of day. There was a tub of ice cream and a sappy romance movie waiting for you back at your apartment.

“Come on, a girl like you with legs like that? Surely you’re dressed up for somebody.” The man stepped out of the alleyway and leaned against the brick wall. “I’m thinkin’ maybe it’s me.”

Oh you wanted to turn him around and hit him with your bag.

But it wasn’t worth the risk.

“Hell no.” You stated curtly and walked by him briskly.

He snatched your wrist, effectively making your skin crawl. “Look at me when I’m talking to ya.”

He pulled you into the alley before you could stop him.

“Maybe you didn’t hear me.” You growled and tried to rip yourself away. “HELL. NO.”

“Come on, baby! Give me a chance-!” He attempted you sweet talk before he was interrupted.

You caught his hand before he could grab you anywhere inappropriate. “I have had a REALLY terrible day. I am a MINOR and if you don’t get lost RIGHT NOW then you’re gonna have some serious problems.”

He was close enough that you could smell the bitter alcohol on his breath.

He was probably a head shorter than you and had no idea what he was getting into.

“I don’t care if you’re a minor-.” He started.

Your fist smashing into his nose stopped his words.

“Like I said!” You growled as you shook the pain out of your knuckles, “I have had a really really REALLY bad day. And YOU are some little gnat just buzzing in my FACE!”

He gripped his nose with a cry, blood dripping down it like a waterfall. “YOU BROKE MY NOSE!”

“YOU PULLED ME INTO AN ALLEY AND TRIED TO TOUCH ME!” You shouted back, hitting him with your purse before he could charge at you. “YOU MADE THIS CHOICE AFTER I WARNED YOU!”

It felt good to take your rage out on somebody. And it was justified to! It wasn’t like you were just beating this man. He wasn’t letting you leave! He kept grabbing you before you could go.

————-

Turtles pov

They crouched above the alleyway, watching the man pull you into the alleyway.

“We gotta get involved man.” The red masked one whispered. “This doesn’t look to good.”

“I told you, we only get involved if it gets really bad.” The blue one responded with an eye roll. “We can’t risk being seen!”

“It already looks really bad!”

“If she gets anymore hurt then we jump in!”

The orange masked turtle jumped into the conversation. “I don’t know, I think my money’s on the girl.”

“Mikey shut up!” The purple masked brother whispered. “This is serious!”

“So am I! Look at her! She isn’t even scared!”

“I think she at least looks a little scared.”

“Probably cause she’s trying to keep herself from beating the shit out of him!”

Raph rolled his eyes and shoved his younger brother. “It’s our job to do the protectin’ round here. Shut up and- HOLY SHIT!”

The all gasped as you reeled your hand back and knocked your fist into the creeps nose.

“Damn that looked like it hurt.” Leo observed. “Maybe she doesn’t need our help.”

“I say we stay here in case it goes south.” Raph argued, waiting for Leo to argue with him.

“Fine, but we leave when it looks like she’s safe.” Leo nodded and looked back to the fight.

Raph didn’t have time to feel proud that he’d been listened to. Mikey was inching closer to watch. “What the hell are ya doin’?” He reached forward to pull him back. “She’s gonna see ya!”

Mikey leaned over the edge anyway. “Look at her go! I told you he didn’t stand a chance!”

“Who knew using a purse was so effective?” Leo nodded. “Think she’s got it?”

“Looks like it to me!” Mikey laughed and watched with glee. “This is real entertainment.”

“Mikey you’re too close to the edge!” Raph tried to grab him but was shoved away. “You’re gonna fall-!”

————

With that you shoved the man into the wall. “Are you FINALLY done? Have you FINALLY learned your lesson?”

He spit out the blood from his mouth and nodded. “Fine! Please just leave me alone!”

“Good choice!” You shoved him away from you. “Go before I change my mind!”

He was gone before you could even blink.

“That’s right! Get out of here!” You shouted to him as he scurried away.

You lifted your chin triumphantly.

Maybe you hadn’t gotten that date but you sure did beat the crap out of a creep.

You dusted your hands off and snatched your purse off the ground.

“If I catch you harassing anyone else you’ll get it twice as bad!”

No answer of course.

He was long gone.

Still, it felt good to shout.

You could finally go home.

You turned back to the edge of the alleyway with a sigh of relief.

You took one step forward.

Then, the least expected thing happened.

“OH SHIT!”

Next thing you knew you were on the ground after something very large crashed into you.

“What the hell!” You sat up and rubbed your head. “Who just sits on a roof above an alleyway?!”

You grabbed your purse quickly and stood up, ready for another fight.

It wasn’t another creep.

And from the looks of it... it wasn’t even human.

Well, THEY weren’t even human.

You didn’t know what they were.

Green...

Huge...

And shells...

The finally looked at you.

Why were they wearing masks?

What even were they?

Why were they there!?

The one in orange immediately scurried behind the one in red. “Oh shit oh shit oh shit!”

The one in red looked at you and then looked at the guy behind him. “You dragged me into this! You fix it!”

He pulled him forward.

Honestly you had no idea what to think.

There were two GIANT turtles right in front of you! And they were talking!

You gripped your purse a little tighter, waiting to see what they would do.

The one directly in front of you tried to speak only to look back at the red masked one and then back up at where they had fallen.

You looked from him to where he was looking quickly. “Are there more of you?”

He gulped quickly and attempted to hide behind the bigger turtle. “Uh... yeah?”

You took a small step to the exit. “Are you... are you gonna try to take my purse or something?”

The red one glared at you. “No! We’re just.. just here to protect the city. We ain’t monsters!”

You noticed him getting defensive immediately and nodded. “...okay then. Well, if you’re not going to rob me then I’m going to pretend I saw nothing and go on my way.”

The red one frowned.

You were acting waaaaaaay too casual.

Surely there had to be some other motive.

“Hold on a minute... you ain’t goin’ anywhere yet.”

You glared at him and held out your purse. “Are you gonna stop me?”

Mikey took a step back and Raph rolled his eyes.

“I don’t think a purse is gonna do much against someone like me.” He stated.

“I don’t even know who you are.” You stepped back again and tightened your grip. “I didn’t even know people like you existed until now.”

You looked them up and down, taking them all in.

This couldn’t be real.

It couldn’t be.

“You say anything bout this and you’re dead, got it?” He pointed around you as if aggression could make you quiet.

“Can you at least let me go home and finish my ice cream before you decide to kill me?” You backed up again.

You were so close to running away.

So close to escape.

Before you could back up any further, two more creatures dropped from the sky behind you.

You jumped and scrambled away, nearly running into the red masked turtle.

“Listen, I’m sorry about the way my brother phrased everything.” The new turtle glared at his companion. “What he meant to say is that we protect the city. We were watching that man just in case he tried anything and these two,” he glared at the first two again, “fell off the roof.”

The one next to him pushed up his glasses. “I’m surprised you haven’t passed out from fear yet. The first person we met did just that!”

Your back hit the wall and you had no where else to go. “I’m not too sure if I won’t do that.” You glanced between the four of them. “What even are you guys?”

“Turtles!” The orange one spoke up before the red one could shush him.

“Mutants as well.” The purple one joined.

“And ninjas.”

“And teenagers.”

You couldn’t help but snort. “Mutant turtle teen ninjas? I think you need to rebrand that.”

Maybe you were insane.

Here you were cracking jokes with large turtles at dinner time.

But so far they were harmless, despite their stature. According to the blue one they protect New York.

“Ya got a problem with it?” The red one grew even more tense.

You shook your head quickly. “No. Just... surprised.”

“And scared?” He added. “Scared of monsters like us?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I thought you just said you weren’t monsters.”

That seemed to stop him.

So you continued with a deep breath. “You’re all just... really huge. I thought I was tall but standing next to you...” you swallowed and tried not to let your nerves get to you. You turned to the blue one since he seemed to be the leader. “...can I go now? I won’t tell anyone you exist or... whatever it is you want.”

The blue one was skeptical but the purple one butted in.

“Do you have a way home? Like a friend you can call?”

You opened your purse. “Yeah I should be able to call an Uber with my...” you pulled out the broken device. “...my phone.”

Well crap.

You stuffed it back in quickly. “It’s okay I’ll just walk-!”

“I can fix it.” He offered. “Besides it’ll be an extra security measure for us if we have your contact information.” He gestured loosely to the hand you’d punched the creep with. “We could also bandage up those cuts.”

You brought up your hand and inspected the blood with surprise.

Well... when were you gonna get another opportunity like this? It’s not everyday a girl gets invited into the homes of local mutants.

Besides you really didn’t want to walk home with your phone destroyed.

The red one looked at the purple one angrily. “You wanna being ‘er back??”

“Our job is to help people, Raph.” He rolled his eyes.

“I’m with Donnie. It’s only fair since we broke her phone.” The blue one nodded.

“Well if it’s not too much trouble...”

—————

Next thing you know you were whisked away to none other than the sewers.

Well that kind of made sense.

No one would ever really want to go down there anyway.

The purple one, whose name you learned was Donnie, had your phone in his three fingers the moment you stepped foot in their home.

“I’ll do a little fixing up, maybe an upgrade, and Raph can take a look at your hands.” He muttered as he started to disappear into a lab like room.

Raph...

He was the red angry one wasn’t he.

The tallest and biggest out of them all.

He didn’t seem too happy about it either.

“Why me?” He protested. “What ‘bout Leo? Or-or Master Splinter? Heck, even Mikey!” He gestured to his orange masked brother as if to showcase how he’d be better at it.

You couldn’t help but silently agree with him.

Mikey seemed the most open on the way here. He’d talked your ear off the whole trip, asking questions about what it was like to be a human and bragging about all the people he’d saved. He’d even wanted you to play a video game with you when you got to their home. He’d been a bit overbearing but that was better than Mr. miffed muscle mountain.

“Hey you’ve broken the skin on your knuckles before. You’ve got experience in it. Just fix her hand and be done.” With that, Donnie was gone.

You shared an awkward moment of eye contact with Raph before he sighed.

“Well, I’m gonna go play my game.” Mikey dashed over to the tv. “Let me know when you two are done and we can play!” He grabbed Leo by the back of his shell and pulled him along.

You bit the inside of your cheek nervously.

It was just you two.

You and the giant turtle boy beside you.

“Aight well...” he cleared his throat. “I guess I’ll take you up to the work out room then?”

He stopped and you realized he was waiting for you to say something. You quickly tried to scrounge up a comprehensible sentence.

“Y-yeah, sounds good with me.” You followed after him quietly, holding your hand so the blood wouldn’t drip everywhere.

The room was smaller than you imagined but still... it was huge to you.

He began rummaging through a box on the table, fumbling with objects. “You can uh... you can sit down while I grab the-the stuff.” He told you quickly.

You didn’t know where to sit so you interpreted his words to mean that you should sit on the work out bench.

You watched patiently as he found the roll of gauze.

Clearly he was just as nervous as you.

You didn’t know why HE was nervous though. He was a giant turtle for goodness sake. He could snap you in half easily.

“Here lemme see that hand.” He shuffled over and reached out.

You gave your right one to him, trying to hold in your nervous shaking.

“Ain’t gonna bite ya.” He rolled his eyes.

“I know.” You commented, watching him start applying disinfectant. “Just never been in a situation like this before.”

He snorted and continued his work.

You couldn’t help but notice how small your hand looked compared to his. Ha. That was new. Usually it was you watching little pick me girls compare their hand size to their crushes. How strange it was for it to be you.

“And I thought I had big hands.” You couldn’t help but blurt out.

He kept his eyes on your hand, examining it a little more. “Ya call this big?”

“Yep.” You glanced around the room, taking in the ‘scenery’.

He snorted. “Damn tiny to me.” He pulled out the gauze and began wrapping your knuckles. “Look, I’m uh... I’m sorry ‘bout the way I handled earlier. My dumbnut brother got us exposed when ya clearly had the situation handled.”

You cringed, remembering that they’d seen you beating the creep. “Yeah I could have handled that better as well.”

He paused for a half second, as if considering his next words, and then continued. “Heard ya say you were havin’ a shit day as well.”

You weren’t exactly sure if you wanted this brought up in the middle of the weirdest experience ever but you were desperate for a smooth conversation. “Yeah, some jackass stood me up.”

He frowned and momentarily made confused eye contact with you. “Stood ya up?”

“You know, as in he said he was gonna go on a date with me and just didn’t show up.” You forced out a laugh. “But it’s fine I got ice cream at home.”

“Mmm.” He muttered. “Sounds like a douche bag.”

Well outta room! Part two will be up I had too much fun :)

#tmnt headcanons #tmnt raphael #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt #tmnt 2014 #raph x reader

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starryyyjoon · 3 years

Text

I, you | Kim Namjoon One Shot

word count: 8.2k

pairing: idol!namjoon x fem reader

summary: namjoon meets you again and he can't help but want you to look at him the same way he has all these years.

disclaimer: it's sort of written from y/n pov. kind of smut included, not too much but still. other then that, i don't think there's anything. it was written a long time ago so i don't clearly remember, sorry!

Namjoon walked in, followed by a few staff members and they occupied the empty chairs on the conference table and I smiled at him and the others. He looked great like always, he was in a navy blue hoodie and a khaki colored trouser, with his hair pushed backwards exposing his forehead.

There was something and nothing between me and him and it was too tiring to play pretend. "You look good", he remarked and I smiled at him. He's always being too kind, I looked like absolute shit, I hadn't slept in three days and my clothes were whatever was in my reach that I'd put on after showering and I rushed here.

I had met him before this level of success but I was merely an assistant director myself and we'd talked about Monet and his work together, he'd similar interests to mine but both of us didn't really get anywhere because of our timing and I believed it was for the good. He'd always expressed how he liked my vision and wants to work with me on something and I didn't believe my vision because what even was my vision that he could see and not me and after being this big I didn't really thought he'll even remember me until he hit my phone one day and here I was, at the label's office to discuss the details of his mixtape's music video.

"So, do you've something in mind?", I asked him and he pressed his back on the chair letting out a yawn, he seemed tired.

"Not really! I want it simplistic and not too hard to understand. I haven't thought about it or anything so I don't know, I would await what you propose", he softly said.

"I haven't heard the track because of--", he intervened, "--ah you haven't? You should hear it first", he said and I nodded.

"I would need to hear it", I told him, thinking about the lengthy talks with the illustrator already.

The staff then pin pointed about the budget, the do nots and other details and two of my team members who were seated beside me talked thoroughly in detail about the technicalities. Namjoon looked bored with all the talk that didn't interest him. He wasn't much different from before slightly bigger.

All of us stood up coming to an agreement when Namjoon asked me to walk up to his studio to hear the track and I asked my team members to go ahead first. I walked through the dark corridor behind him while he talked to someone on the phone, all the way to his studio. I didn't really hear what he was talking because I was invested in staring around the place like I hadn't seen a building before.

The walls were all dark and a comforting shade since I didn't like the sun anyway. It seemed like a night mode in real life.

His studio was the corner most, he typed the passcode in and stood aside gesturing for me to walk in, followed by him. He hung up the phone call and put his phone aside, switching the AC on. He sat behind the monitor while he switched it on and I went through my inbox.

"So, how have you been?", his deep tone, made me look up and I fidgeted to put my eyes on something other then him while he turned his chair around to face me.

"I have been okay-ish, like the projects I'm doing I'm satisfied with them so I guess it's kinda okay", I said and regretted it immediately, I don't even talk like this and he knows it.

"Not the work c'mon, you, your boyfriend, family, other things?", a lose smile hung on his lips and I looked at him. How can someone look like that?

"No boyfriend because you know no one can put up with this profession. I haven't slept in three days so I'm fucking annoyed and the work is too much that I don't have time for other things", I shrugged and he chuckled. I didn't want to think about guys, I barely had time for myself. Filmmaking was a time bound profession.

"I relate, trust me I do", he turned his chair back around, his eyes on the computer screen and I looked at him. I could see why he could relate, I mean of course he didn't had time either. I knew idol schedules enough to know how these things go. "Why didn't you come that day?", he asked me and my insides twisted.

"I was hoping you don't bring it up", I said in a small voice.

"Why not? I waited for you", he said without looking at me and I threw my head back on the couch thinking of the time when he'd asked me out officially and I didn't make it. "At least I deserve to know what was more important that you didn't make it", he looked at me and I closed my eyes shut.

"I had a flight, I got an exclusive food show travel experience with discovery and it was too good for an opportunity to miss", I let it out and took a breath in. I knew I could never leave work for a guy, any guy, or anyone as a matter of fact and as much as I'd thought about it on the plane...it all seemed for the better. He wasn't the kind of guy I could've had my regular thing with and I was too young to be serious.

"It was a good show", he told me. I could feel his eyes on me and I didn't flinch. I didn't regret it but his words made me feel guilty. My head was on the headrest of the sofa I sat on and my eyes were closed. My subconscious could feel his curious gaze on me.

"Look away Namjoon", I said and I could feel his gaze was still on me.

"Why didn't you call me when you got back?", he asked me and I looked at him.

"I didn't because our cultures differ, everything is poles apart--what's the point of discussing it now?", I asked him, slightly annoyed. He and I separately needed to focus on our careers and he knew it too damn well.

"Okay", he turned around again as his monitor showed a circle indicating that the programme he'd launched was loading. "It does makes me feel better that my better position in life doesn't changes your opinion on me. Quiet comforting", he said, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice but I chose to ignore it. The last thing I'd be doing is fueling this feeling in him by discussing this useless thing which wouldn't make any difference whatsoever.

"Is this the reason you wanted me to do this project with you?", I asked him and he swiftly turned his chair around.

"No, I don't take all this for granted. I love the stuff you do. I'm pretty updated thanks to how active you're on your social media", he smiled and I couldn't shook the thought of seeing my psychotic episodes on my Instagram, Twitter...everywhere. I'm pretty weird out there.

"I love it, the stories", he flased his dimple smile before turning his chair around again and I felt his warmth, like he meant what he said.

For a second I was taken aback with how tall he was from me and how good he looked, he'd always looked good but he was more mature now and much more reserved. "I'll be calling you often because I won't send it for pre-production without your say on the concept", I told him.

"I'll look forward to a lot of calls", he said. "I'm sorry this is taking a while", he added quickly and for some reason I couldn't look away from him, whose back was visible to me.

"No, take your time", I said, crossing my arms against my chest. I really wished he was a regular guy just making music but then I didn't. I wouldn't want someone to wish that for me. He'd earned all of it and I knew it.

"Look away ___", he said slowly. I could feel his grin through his words and I looked away shaking my head right and left softly. "It's, yeah it's playing", he turned around as the music filled in the empty atmosphere.

It was a slow song with a really fast rap. It was how Namjoon was, he contradicted himself too much. I instantly knew it was his writing from the way the words went and the wordplay came into role. I couldn't help but analyze the song because I was supposed to shoot and sketch a music video for it and at times like this I didn't really get to enjoy the art for the art and I hated it.

"How was it?", he asked me, his eyes fixated on me as the music faded. I wanted it to last.

"The only problem with it is that it ends", I flashed a smlie at him and he shook his head throwing it back.

"That's too corny even for you", Namjoon rolled his eyes but I was being serious. "You know I appreciate heavy critics", he said.

"I didn't find anything to criticize, the writing is great, the composition fits and it has a catchy vibe to it. I think I would listen a song like that on a drive or something? In your case a bicycle but yeah! It's a good song", I summarized my opinion. "Do you like want a trendy video?", I asked him.

"Anything that you want to do with it", he said and I gently nodded. Since it was given to me, I couldn't stop thinking about what to do with it.

"Can you stop thinking about it while you're with me ___?", he chuckled and I looked at him taken aback for a second and then nodded with a soft smile pasted on my lips.

"Your fashion sense has improved", I remarked.

"You look casual", he teased me.

"I, I've no fashion sense. I just wear whatever is there", I told him.

"I don't think so, your Instagram says different", he said.

"It's for the show Namjoon", I said.

"You're really not the type to do that, please don't deceive me", he beamed before he turned his chair around again to minimize the current tabs on the computer.

"You're the last person I'd be deceiving--", my words were cut from an incoming call from one of the producers of one of the shows I was working on. "I need to take this", I told him and answered the call while he just gave me a gentle nod in response.

The producer had informed me about the issues related to casting and the final draft of the script and I knew I had to go.

"Guess I'll see you later, bye", Namjoon said warmly as he smiled at me. The thing was he just knew and that always stuck somewhere.

"Bye", I left.

________________

"I, for one, disagree. C'mon how do you even call it an end?", I threw my hands in the air as we discussed it for the millionth time. I liked Su-ho but his thoughts on GOT made me want to kill him. He is the only person I knew who was satisfied with how it ended.

"I think it was okay, c'mon, you have to consider that the novels didn't end and as compared to that I think it was pretty good", Su-ho claimed while he sat on the bean bag in front of me, pushing it comfortably.

"Don't even start with the novels--", my words were interrupted with the sound of the doorbell, "--they didn't even do a good job interpreting it and I am offended by that. Look there novels", I pointed at my bookshelf, showing him my GOT collection which he knew as I opened the door and my head bumped against Namjoon's chest as he took a step in.

He chuckled as he held the back of my head with one hand and pressed my forehead with the other and rubbed it gently to ease the pain.

"What's uh, what's that? Is it iron", I mocked, pointing at his chest while he let me go from his grip and took his shoes off.

"It can be", he said. "But why were you jumping around so enthusiastically?", he asked me as he seated on the couch in front of Su-ho, as he greeted him and Su-ho greeted him back.

"Game of Thrones heavy discussions", I sighed. "This is Su-ho who's illustrating the storyboard", I told Namjoon.

Su-ho was starstruck and it seemed like it'd take him a good minute to recover and Namjoon was obviously used to it. I didn't call him at the office because a lot of people would want to see him then and it could be exhausting plus he'd a time limit on his hands.

"You know him, ___?", Su-ho widened his eyes at me and I nodded, suppressing my laughter seeing his chaotic ass behave like this.

"A little", I said and I could feel Namjoon's gaze on me. "Maybe a lot", I rephrased. I could see by the way Su-ho looked at me that he needed answers. "Coffee?", I asked Namjoon.

"Oh yeah", he replied and I stood up. "I've thought of two concepts, Su-ho please brief him on it and if you want anything differently Namjoon, you can tell him", I told him as I marched towards the kitchen.

Should I use the regular coffee mugs or should I use the better ones? I mean it doesn't matter anyway but still, it kind of does? I don't know. It just comes to me, the over thinking.

Ah.

I could hear him and Su-ho talking about the concepts faintly and I was low-key proud because I did work hard on them. I opened the cabinet to take out the better coffee mugs.

This is what happens when you stop drinking milk and stop growing up. I rested my hands on the kitchen pavement thinking about how many shoes with heels I'd because of my height.

I wasn't very short but I wasn't my desired height too. It was sad. I was the right person to sell the tonics concerning height because my insecurity would make me buy it. I exhaled heavily and turned around to find Namjoon behind me.

"Let me", my hips pressed against the marble pavement while his body gently pressed against my front, I could spot the mole on his neck while he calmly took the box of mugs out. "Okay?", he whispered softly and I looked on without responding.

"Thanks", I told him, hoping he'd get away from me because this had me feeling some type of way. I won't admit what type of way. That makes it worse.

"Anytime", he clicked his lips, taking a few steps back as I stirred the coffee and poured it in three cups. Should've used regular ones.

"I like the quotes on that wall", he said as I handed him his cup, taking the other two. A wall of my house was covered in post-it notes and other stuff. Some print outs of Van Gogh and Frida's works alongside other things.

"Yeah that? Thanks", I said, as I gave the cup to Su-ho. "Did you decide on something?", I asked, as I sat down and Namjoon just beside me.

"Yeah, the first one. It was kind of okay, he made some alterations so I would send it to you by...maximum tomorrow", Su-ho told me. "But why did you call him here for just this?", he asked me.

"You seem so concerned about his whereabouts", I glared Su-ho . "I told him I could just email him but he insisted on doing it in person", I looked at Namjoon who took a long sip from his coffee.

"Yeah I did, don't worry I was absolutely free", Namjoon smiled at Su-ho and I could see Su-ho fanboy-ing.

"You're so in line today", I pressed my words.

"Shut up", Su-ho eyed me. I wrapped my hands around the coffee mug feeling its warmth.

After I talked to Namjoon for a while about the shoot and he explained to me about their company procedure and how they usually did things. I didn't like doing music videos or commercials, there's a lot of time you're bound by what the music video demands and you've to stick with that so that was that. I usually preferred either cinema like movies or dramas, I hadn't done much but I had done a few and travel shows were my preference.

"I'll see you next time then", Su-ho politely remarked looking at Namjoon and he smiled and gently bowed his head. I walked with him up-to the door. "I didn't, what the hell, you could've given me a heads up?", Su-ho whispered slowly to me as I leaned against the door.

"I didn't knew you were a fan", I said and he playfully hit me on my arm.

"I still can't believe it, you've to answer my hot questions next time", he said and I nodded.

"Okay okay", I closed the door shut behind me, taking a seat on the far side of the sofa me and Namjoon were seated on. He was scanning my bookshelf and I was looking at him.

"Literally 70% of it is fiction", he said. I read a lot of fiction and he read a lot of nonfiction.

"You should read fiction", I said and he looked at me slightly pissed.

"I do read fiction just not thar much", he pointed at my bookshelf. "If you've to recommend one, shoot", he said.

"Recommend, uh, the secrets of happiness", I said randomly and his face sunk in annoyance. "It's not a book talking about literal secrets of happiness, it has a story", I told him.

"Ah okay...I will try reading that. Let me take your copy", he said.

"No", I said back in a split second.

"I won't lose it, c'mon, ___", he said. I couldn't believe his testimony on not losing it.

"Fine, but it's annotated. You'll owe me big time if you lose it", I said and he nodded vigorously.

"Your place is great", he said looking around the house and I couldn't see why, I mean yeah maybe but not that I find it great if I think from his point of view.

"I'm barely here anyway. I pay rent for no reason", I kept the empty mug in my hand on the glass table in front of us.

"That was your friend though, Su-ho?", Namjoon asked as he kept his cup, followed by me.

"Oh yeah! I met him for work but then it's been a while since I know him, it's been years actually and he's a friend now", I said thinking about Su-ho. I don't know why I bothered explaining. It's been a good five years since Namjoon and I hadn't been in touch and there was a little catching up to do.

"You've always had a lot of friends, don't you", he sighed as he sat cross legged on the sofa facing me. I do have plenty friends honestly.

"Kind of", I shrugged. His gaze on me made me sit back in a more cautious way as I fixed my posture. "Namjoon...", I called out his name when the doorbell rung and I was irritated. "Give me a second", I stood up and walked up-to the main door.

It was my neighbor who's mother had left their house keys with me and he was here to take it back. He thanked me for keeping it and walked up to his own flat which was in front of mine.

I closed the door shut and Namjoon was standing by the balcony seeing a cactus I had grown since I couldn't grow any other plant because I was never home to take care of them in case.

"It's cute", he said as he picked the potted plant and stared at it for a little while and I stood behind him and watched him see it.

"You know your pupils dilate when you see plants", I said and he smiled to himself. He kept the cactus back in its resting place and stared at me. "What?", I asked him.

"You were going to say something", he said, his voice sounded deeper then usual for a second and I licked my bottom lip in haste.

"Oh that, you know the alterations you made? I will directly mail it to the staff and maybe cc you because it won't need a second check anyway. I've to get this done a little early since I've--", he turned towards me and I took a step back but there was barely any space and my back was pressed against the wall, "--what is it?", I asked but it came out as a whisper.

"Here", he dragged his index finger across my bottom lip and there was something on my lip. I didn't really see what was on there because of his presence so close to me. My heartbeat had fastened and I could feel it. Something I didn't want to feel.

"Thanks, I guess", I said slowly and he flashed his dimple smile at me and in that moment he seemed the opposite of the dominant he was a few seconds ago.

"Do you know you look really good?", he said, as his fingers ran across my ear touching the piercings one by one. I regretted having three all of a sudden. "And I didn't intended to do this but ___ I uh", he bent over a little, his lips a few inches away from my ear and his breath was falling on my neck.

"Namjoon", I said, trying to not look at him. I knew damn well I couldn't be able to control myself.

"Hmm", his voice was so small and I could feel goosebumps all over my neck. His gaze on me was strong and I had jitters in my stomach.

"I, uh--let's not okay", I put my hands on his shoulder as he pulled me more closer with a jolt and I gasped.

"Do you really not want to?", he asked me. It was a while since I was in this close proximity of someone like this but my subconscious kept telling me not to. "I don't understand what you find so undesirable about me", he took a few steps back and looked away.

What?

"Do you think I find you undesirable?", I asked him, pressing my lips suppressing my smile. I couldn't get how could he change roles in a span of few seconds.

"Yeah, it's pretty evident really", he sighed, looking at the the far side of the sky at the horizon and I saw him sulking.

"It's not that, are you fucking dumb? It's just you know you shouldn't start things you can't take care of", I said. For some reason I've always felt a little hesitant with him. "But you're desirable enough", I added.

"Sudden validation from you, ah", he clicked his lips in mockery and I felt bad. The last thing I wanted was to look like I was playing hard to get. I didn't feel competent enough in my heart. "Let me kiss you", he said, taking a few steps closer breaking the chain of my thoughts and I hated being so much in control and feeling a little out of place.

I was back to where I was a few seconds ago, me cornered and he put his lips on mine and my body automatically responded. He took over me in a second. My hands rested on his back and clutched the fabric. His hands travelled below my hips as he pulled me upwards and my legs wrapped around his waist. He didn't stop kissing me for one second and I didn't want him to, as he pressed his mouth harder on mine and I bit back a moan. I could feel the heat in my body and every vein seemed to electrify. He walked me up-to my bedroom like he knew which suddenly felt foreign to me as he laid me on the bed, breaking the kiss and I was breathless, panting for air.

I didn't had any resort in me to stop. I didn't want him to stop. I couldn't care more about whatever that had me concerned for a while. He watched me look at him and his lips curved in a smirk. "Should I stop?", he teased me taking a seat on the edge of the bed and I looked away from him to the right side, scoffing.

I pushed myself up, my hands at the hem of the lose white t-shirt I'd on and for a second I hesitated at the fact that he must've seen better flesh than mine but I pulled it upwards exposing myself in front of him as his eyes went everywhere. "Do you want to stop?", I asked him, as I crawled over to him. He didn't object as I sat on his lap and took his face in my hands. I looked in his eyes. He looked beautiful. I traced the outline of his skull, his jaw as I pushed his hair locks that were on his forehead behind. "Do you want to stop Namjoon?", I asked him again as he held me tight, giving me my answer.

He tugged at my neck with his mouth leaving a trail of gentle kisses down and I could feel my nipples startlingly prominent beneath the black lightweight bra I had on. I clutched his hair as he bit my neck suddenly and I gasped.

He pushed me on to him, nearer but there was barely any space for me to come close and I could feel him all over. He messily kissed me before groping my bottom and I-I cut a breath in. He would take turns and be gentler a second and rough the another. "Namjoon", I called out gasping which fueled him even more. He looked at me and smiled proudly at how he had me without doing much.

He flicked the straps of my bra shoving it down exposing my breasts and I could feel my nipples harden to the point it was painful. I wanted him. I wanted him to touch me, more. The way my body responded to his touch was almost funny, how quick, how wet.

I patiently unbuttoned his shirt and stripped it off of him while he looked at me with a gaze I couldn't quite make anything of, he just looked at me while he let me work on him. My hands touched his chest and my eyes examined his torso, his skin was warm and his gaze on me gave me confidence like he wanted me back as much I wanted him.

I was forgetting my own desperation for his touch as my hand traveled behind his back, trailing down to his spine and he looked at me as he cut a sharp breath in and I felt good seeing him giving in to me. His arms surrounded mine unclasping my bra in a second and he threw it off on the floor.

I half expected him to grab me and grope my breast but he swept me in his arms as his vaguely pink mouth pressed against mine and instead of hastily grabbing me, his mouth simply rested against mine and it was worse, much more intoxicating. I, on instinct coiled my arms against his neck.

As my tongue demanded entrance and he smiled before letting me, and in a second, roles were reversed, the romantic was gone. He took control and pressed his mouth harder on me with his thumb and finger pressing my nipple and my nails dug deeper in his neck. "Joon...", I on instinct called out, as I gasped for breath but he didn't let me.

He was hard against me and I grinded next to him which seemed to please him while he left my mouth, burning with a wanting for more while my sex clenched as he took control of my body putting his arms around my back and they were free to go anywhere. I wouldn't dare stop him.

A second later, he laid me on the bed and hovered over me before taking my shorts off in a whirl and pushed my underwear off me that it didn't seem reusable. I anticipated his actions but he pushed a thumb into my bottom without no warning and I clutched the sheets, a yell escaping my mouth. My fingers curled meanwhile his other arm grabbed my breast cupping it and a second later his forefinger and middle finger slipped inside of me and my grip on the sheets tightened.

"Shh", he hissed in my ear and I hadn't realized a moan had escaped my mouth. My whole body rocked in less then a minute and I couldn't control my voice, I gasped for breath and I moaned even louder then before. "I didn't take you for a screamer ___", Namjoon seemed amused while embarrassment washed over me as I laid exposed in front of him.

"Let me go down on you", I told him and he looked taken aback as I pushed myself up.

"Do you really want to?", he asked and I shifted closer to him, placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

"I would love to", I told him. "Do you want me to?", I asked him.

"Yeah, I mean yeah", he said when his phone rang echoing in the room and his face flushed into irritation as he looked at me and I nodded gesturing him to take it. He took it out of his pocket and answered it. With every word he spoke, his irritation grew. He hung up the phone call. "Where's the wardrobe?", he asked me and my eyes pointed behind him.

Namjoon opened my wardrobe and took out a very lose t-shirt of his choice from my stack of comfortable clothes. He held my arms and slipped the t-shirt on me, pulling me close. He stroked my face and he smiled in my face which forced me to smile as well.

"Am I suppose to expect something from you or should I forget this?", I asked him as his fingers tucked the few strands of my hair behind my ear.

"You're supposed to expect everything, don't dare forget it", he whispered in my ear, nibbling on it and I couldn't help but giggle. "I want to talk to you but I've to go now and I hate it", he smiled at me.

"Okay, go", I told him and he chuckled before letting me off him and he wore his shirt back on.

After seeing him off and taking a shower, I laid back on the couch in the living room thinking about everything that had happened. I didn't regret it, I wasn't thinking much about it anyway.

The guys I'd sex with or made out with, I disliked them because of their narcissism. I appreciated my ability to find guys that were a-grade assholes. I've always had this feeling that I am lacking in some sense with other people. I look normal, like I should but I get this insecurity when taking my clothes off.

I didn't knew what Namjoon thought about it and asking him would be weird. No one who knows me like him would think I am this insecure or anxious about this stuff but then a major part of it has to do with my aura, I guess?

________________

I took a bite of the sandwich that I held in my hand as I walked around the second set just nearby to the first one. I stood afar, taking a good look, even though the storyboard fits the sights I still need to frame out a rough sketch work in my head.

I took another bite staring at the beach and the path to it and then back to the set that we'd build up by man power. It was pretty accurate in my eyes but I wanted to hear from my assistant director.

I took the walkie talkie out from the pocket of my denim and pressed the centre button, "Jae-chan, where are you?"

In a second he reverted, "Ah sunbae I am near the gripper".

"Come to the road that leads to the beach", I said, before shoving the walkie talkie down in my pocket.

The sea met the sky at the far point of the horizon and how the world is full of these illusions which are not real we know but we still believe. After all there's beauty in things that you don't get. Vastness maybe?

Sea and sky — the two melancholic blues.

"Sunbae?", Jae Chan broke the chain of my thoughts and I glanced at him before looking at the sea. His breath was heavy, I could tell he ran here.

"You could have walked, Chan-ah", I said, smiling. He was really young and passionate about filmmaking but also a little silly. He's cute.

"Ah it's okay. Did you need something?", he asked politely and I shook my head. I liked the input of many people on the same thing, it showed the number of opinions that could centre around one thing that you make in a different context which is then perceived in another.

"Do you think this is accurate in terms of the story board?", I asked him and he seemed lost in thought.

"I would say slightly better because the storyboard is still animation and this is real so I would say better. I'm pretty sure it'll be good sunbae", he told me and I could feel a smile flush on my lips. "You are nervous, aren't you?", he asked me.

"Yeah", I wrinkled my nose, turning around to walk off. I patted Jae Chan's back and he started walking with me.

"You don't have to be, and oh, he's here", he said assuring me and I knew who he meant by he.

My mind automatically went to the day in my apartment. Namjoon had messaged me after but he got busier with his work and I am not a text-er plus I'd a lot of things to do before I left Korea. It was, I didn't knew anything and I didn't want to think about it. I hoped he'd pretend nothing happened, please. But I knew he won't.

I sighed and as I entered the main set, around the vanity and food truck, the manager and Namjoon's staff members greeted me. After that, I mean impractically I wanted earth to open and swallow me. Living is hard anyway.

I'd a flight on the weekend, I'd to pack and I'd to get new boots but I'm just dumb because I'm trying to think of other things. I need a new nail paint, do I? I looked at my nails which were painted black. Maybe grey?

"Sunbae?", Jae Chan shook me and I looked at him. He gestured me to look up front and Namjoon was right there looking like Namjoon.

"Hi", I awkwardly waved at him.

"Hi", he flashed his dimple smile at me. His dimple smile hits me.

"You can get the makeup and hair done, I've a few things to recheck", I excused myself. This is awkward. This is so awkward. I hate it.

Even though I had that awkwardness lingering around but we were nearing to the end of the shoot which went really good because everyone worked so hard. It was mostly one-takes and the lighting supported the whole setting making it so easier for us to finish.

Moreover, it was a while since I had done a music video so it felt good being back on a set like this. Namjoon looked really good with the styling and although I knew the outfits pre-shoot, he still looked better then I'd imagined him to look which enhanced the whole vibe of the music video. He owned earthly tones.

That's why casting and styling is so important. Very much. Makes a gigantic difference.

"What's wrong with you?", I didn't notice he was standing next to me with a small fan in his hands while we prepped for the last shot.

"What's wrong with me?", I asked him, as I adjusted the frame in the main camera. I didn't want this conversation especially right now, especially here.

"I mean...you knowww?", I could feel his stare while I shifted the camera, something is wrong with this.

"I don't know", I said, without looking at him. I was unintentionally making him mad and nothing else.

"I was really scared that you'd say this and see, I mean, why can't you behave normal when I mention anything about us?", he hissed near me and I looked around. Luckily there was no one in our proximity to hear this conversation.

"I-I, Namjoon", I exclaimed, vaguely pointing at the setting hoping we could do this later and I could explain that I would love us but he needs to understand that I won't even be in Korea as much as he thinks I would be and that's why it won't work out.

"I don't care", he eyed me.

"I do. I care, okay? There's no us to begin with and I know I was stupid enough to ask you what I should expect out of, what would you call it, we made out. That's that", I tried being really slow and I could feel annoyance in his sight.

"Made out! Okay, okay fine. I can't believe I deal with you. You're the one who doesn't text or call or even respond to it and that's bare minimum ___", he pondered and I internally rolled my eyes.

I was leaving on the weekend. I was always leaving. That's it. "I don't have to and I have a life Namjoon. I've been working non stop all this time. I don't expect you to understand", I said, standing up from my seat while I called for the head DOP from the walkie talkie.

"You don't want to be understood ___", Namjoon said, grabbing me from my arm and stopping me. He wasn't wrong. A few eyes snapped and I forced a smile immediately. "I like you, I like you a lot. Deal with it", he walked past me.

Deal with it.

As if.

Very abruptly, the last shot rolled in and it was over. The music video was done in a day. It was originally a two day sketch but we had to narrow it down to one day because of Namjoon's schedule and it was worrisome because it did seem impossible but things went smoothly and it was successfully over.

I told Jae Chan to wrap the filming site, though most of it was done while I was present. I picked my bag from a table to leave, kept right ahead from the vanity. Namjoon had left, I guess. I wasn't sure because after the last shot he was angry. He had his jaw clenched all that time, he barely managed to keep it out on the music video.

He was like this, his anger was pretty evident and that hadn't changed.

I like you. I like you a lot.

I couldn't wrap my head around that thought. Did he like me all this time? It sounded pretty crazy to me. I had never thought about anything with Namjoon. He was a friend I could like but I didn't, I had never expected anything out of my acquaintance with him anyway.

"You ate?", his deep voice made me look at him who stood at the steps of the vanity. He hadn't left yet.

"No", I said. He had changed into his normal clothes, the makeup was gone but he still looked great. His natural complexion was shining as the set lights fell onto his face. It made me surer how Namjoon needed someone who could be there rather then somebody who's never there.

"Come eat something", he said calmly. He looked much composed then before.

"I am not hungry", I stated just when he darted towards me. He held me by my forearm, dragging me into the vanity which was empty except for us. A few dishes were laid out on the table in front of the small couch.

"Eat and leave", he said, taking a seat on one of the chairs in front of the mirrors fidgeting with his phone while I quietly sat on the couch. I just wanted it to be over but I'd no appetite so I kept staring at the couple of Italian dishes which were pasta, carbonara I guess, rissoto and also jjangmyeong. "Just eat anything ___", he said, without bothering to look at me.

"I don't really have an appetite", I said, throwing my head back and looking at the ceiling of the vanity.

"What you've is a habit of skipping meals", he eyed me.

I looked at him. "Do you remember everything? Like literally everything?", I asked him as curiosity brimmed in my eyes.

"You don't?", he asked me back. "Well, for me, yeah I do. I did remember every thing but I should probably forget now. I didn't really asked to work with you because I wanted something but I can't say I didn't hope", he locked his phone and kept it on the space in front him. "I mean, we did had something. We did have something a few days ago. You can't exactly call me a friend and I've never seen you as one. The moment you walked in trying to fix the mess on the set since then till now I can't say I didn't hope you'd look at me the same way", he said, bringing all the memories back alive, but it was true, I never looked at him the way he'd wanted me to, hell, I couldn't believe it one bit. "It's true", he said, as if he just read my mind.

It was, it didn't made sense to me. How could he? Why would he? I uh, I think shit's wrong with me because even now I can't seem to focus on someone who confessed their feelings and that someone being Namjoon from all people.

I remember when I was one of the assistant directors under the director for one of the most low-key and low budget project. They didn't had many resources and our firm wasn't doing well either. We always had to come up with hacks, unknown locations for shooting...it was always so hard. We didn't had any respect in the industry.

It was two companies in one boat at the end of bankruptcy and we were so young and such good friends. I knew the rest of the members too but I kind of had a certain vibe with Namjoon. He could get me without having to speak.

I locked at him, his face was fixated on me and I could like him, in fact I did love him not romantically, I just did. I had a lot of love for him. He was caring for the people around him and I loved talking to him. He never once made anyone feel like he was a celebrity back then and a global celebrity now well yeah. He did deserve someone who could be here for him.

He stood up and walked towards me and my eyes followed him. He took a seat next to me and I could see he picked a bowl up but I didn't see which one because I couldn't stop looking at him. Namjoon took a significant amount and extended it to me and I looked at the noodles for a second and then at him. He just nodded and I ate it.

It was good.

"Thanks", I said, wiping the corners of my mouth with my fingers.

"Do you want me to feed you all the way or can you eat your own?", he asked me.

"I will eat", I told him and he gave me the bowl so I could eat on my own. "You ate?", I asked him and he instantly nodded.

"You're going somewhere, aren't you?", he asked me and I felt as if I've just been struck with something.

"Hmm", I said, my mouth almost filled. "And, I...I want to tell you something like adults and clear it. Namjoon you know my work and I am always not here, never. It's useless. Trust me on this, it's not like that but you know you'll need someone beside you and I can't be the one", I told him, calmly, before gulping water down.

"I know that but I'm okay with it. In fact, we would go hand in hand better because I can't take you out on exotic dates as well. This is what you get", he vaguely gestured at the vanity and I chuckled and he warmly smiled at me.

After a second, I spoke much seriously then before, "It will be hard and you know that. It'll be frustrating. You could hate me".

"If you've tired it with someone before, I am not exactly happy knowing this, but you shouldn't compare me with some random dude with a peculiar taste in leather clothing", he rolled his eyes, shifting his back comfortably.

"Hey! Don't be mean just because you see stuff on my Instagram", I scoffed and he maintained his long face.

"No really, what do you take me for? You think you won't have time for me? I won't have time for you", he went on.

"Namjoon", I dragged his name. His tendency to be sarcastic at odd moments is unmatched.

"Don't call my name like that", he stared at my eyes.

"Like what?", I asked him.

"Like you can love me", he said.

"I...you don't have to be like this", I said, keeping the empty bowl on the table.

"Give me a chance then, try it out. I would wait for you I promise", Namjoon took my hand in his and covered it with his warmth.

"Will I be able to...wait?", I looked away from him, thinking about it so hard.

"___ don't think too much. I promise, we'll be fine", he said, his hands travelling to my waist and before he could grab it. I screeched closer to him. I cupped his face and attached my lips to his, while his hands held on my body.

________________

My relationship with Namjoon was better then I imagined it. I tried my best to be there for him and he was surprisingly almost there for me but it wasn't exactly easy.

It was months and months of hardships and Namjoon was more needy then I thought him to be, he needed a lot of assurance. I don't understand the notion that he holds of everyone wanting me so he needs to be extra careful. I still don't get that his insecure ass doesn't trusts his own members, he won't let me meet them at all.

He was really different. He shifted from dominant to romantic in one second. I loved that. I kind of missed it so much.

He held my hand I could feel it by the way his skin felt against mine, he whirled me around and in a second his hand rested on my waist as he urged me to walk next to him. He was in a perfect disguise and I looked at him. I could tell he was smiling beneath his black mask.

"See, this is why I don't trust other guys! How could you let someone do this to you in the midst of the road in a foreign country?", he asked me.

"No stranger would confidently do this to anyone in a foreign country", I playfully hit him on his leg and he stopped, pretending to be gravely hurt. "I can't believe you", I looked at him as I went with his act. I supported him in standing completely. In a second, he intertwined his fingers with mine.

"I missed you", he softly whispered in my ear.

"I missed you too", I whispered back, softly. I pulled him in an empty alley and pulled his mask down. "I need you to do something", I told him, nibbling on his ear and I could feel my skin feel the heat that it yearned for since a couple of months before him going on tour.

"Right now?", he asked surprised.

"Yeah, right now", I said and I could feel him harden against my pelvis.

"You are...so, not right now. Let's go to your hotel room. I'm still famous", he pulled me closer and I chuckled. He turned me around, pulling his mask down, he kissed me hard. His mouth pressed against mine. I held him tightly and he gasped. "I love you", he softly said before pulling his mask up.

"I, you", I held his hand again.

#bts #bts fanfic #kim namjoon #namjoon #namjoon fic #namjoon smut #namjoon fanfic

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tigerdrop · 3 years

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in lieu of doing more strenuous hand-based activities heres the Dogboy Gordon In Heat Megamix ive been talking about. i wrote this over the course of a couple months in an effort to feel okay about writing horny shit again and i only just realized there are nearly 6 thousand words here. and they only really fuck for like 10% of that

ta-dah

ive thought a lot about gordon being stuck back at gordonhouse after getting kicked out of barneyhouse. i think its ripe for a lot of pining. (and yes, he is pining over the guy hes actively banging. hes being a big mopey idiot over the fact that he doesnt get to have his fuckbuddy around 24/7.) absence makes the heart grow fonder or whatever and gordons already at a baseline of "wheres benrey. wheres benrey"......and now i am about to turn it up to 11

so lets say......gordons starting to feel weirdly under the weather. sweaty and irritable and tired. hes holing himself up in his room a lot, wrapping himself up in blankets to fight off a chill and a sniffliness that wont go away. and hes gettin awfully moody, too. real fuckin testy. starting shit with freemind for no reason and snapping at og gordon like hes a teenager. and......hes nesting, almost, or at least, gathering up a whole bunch of blankets and pillows and anything that smells vaguely like benrey. (hes not really aware hes doing this last thing.)

basically, long story short, feetman is fucked up. hes pathetic. hes being a huge bitch. at least og gordon feels vaguely sorry for him, and expresses this by way of observing him and trying to treat it. for science. its better than freemind, who just loudly complains about him being a huge bitch and reeking up the place. theres something weird coming from vr gordons corner of the house.....a musky, heady, hormonal kind of thing that makes freemind act simultaneously territorial and irritable and more lascivious than normal. and that also piques og gordons attention, because having both of them be wound up little freaks at the same time is enough to make even the most resilient person pull their hair out

now gordon primes got his suspicions as to whats going on, but hes not gonna tell vr gordon that he suspects hes going into heat. that would compromise the experiment, and all that. so poor gordons just going thru all this shit not knowing what in the fuck is wrong with him and getting more worked up and irritable about it by the day. hes convinced that hes just got the flu, or something......except, uh, haha, jesus christ he is horny all the FUCKING TIME

he doesnt get it! he feels like shit all the time, so why is he constantly fighting off boners and having weird wet dreams and thinking about-- well. his fucking boyfriend, he guesses. (are they boyfriends?? he doesnt know. he gets a weird, sharp pang when he thinks about them not being boyfriends, at this point, but its not like theyve ever talked about it!) gordons half-convinced that hes just losing his mind from being stuck inside all the time and he really just wants to see benrey again. its, like, all he thinks about. (see? hes losing it. theres the proof.)

the sucks thing for everybody else is that gordon is also Extremely Vocal about how shitty he feels and how much he wishes he didnt feel shitty so he could go see benrey and how much he cant stand benrey for not being able to read his mind and come over when he feels bad. eventually freemind gets so sick of his shit that he decides to cut out the middleman and get benrey involved directly. "come take care of your fucking dog before i call the aspca! animal neglect is a crime, asshole!"

(if pressed, freemind would adamantly reject the idea that hes being nice to gordon. but on some level, hes kinda sympathetic. the guys clearly miserable, and he just keeps asking for the same fucking thing. might as well humor him to shut him up.)

vr gordon is completely unaware of these machinations, however. hes just holed up in his room trying to work out what makes him feel better because, uhh, powerade isnt helping

jacking off doesnt do a whole lot for him anymore. like, it feels good, but its not very satisfying. gordon just ends up feeling more restless than anything afterward. and hes always stupid horny. more blankets. a box fan. less blankets. sleeping with one of benreys shirts pressed up to his face. grinding into his pillow when he wakes up hard from yet another weird dream. theyre all a little helpful, and he feels like hes working towards the right thing, somehow, but its never really enough to take the edge off

and then.....he tries......jerking off more. especially when he realizes that its bizarrely soothing to do so while he can smell benrey up close and personal on that stupid shirt of his. better still when he rolls onto his side.....and then his stomach.......rocking his hips into the mattress until he gets the idea to lift his hips a little. and......oh. cool. something kind of......clicks. in his head. as he raises his hips higher while he keeps his arms wrapped around a pillow and benreys shirt jammed against his nose. hes got that lil moment of realization that this is good, actually. this feels like a good move. and its making some of that discomfort melt away

and gordon thinks about.....how it felt. earlier. when they were with barmey. and benrey had him just like this, ass up, face down, and was spreading him apart and licking him open and making him submit and he groans so fucking hard that embarassment just rips through him like lightning. but his tail starting to wag a little faster.....electricity shooting through his belly......and he cant help but wonder. what if benrey had kept going? pulled back and-- maybe, replaced his tongue with his fingers, one at a time, curling them inside him and telling him how well hes behaving and-- and his dick throbs, hard, and gordon realizes he wants fingers inside of himself right fucking now, thank you, hes not fully certain how to accomplish it be he is going to fucking try

(sigh) so my guy figures out about the old fingers in the ass trick. and i need you to understand that i am fully convinced that this is one of those guys who has an uproarious reaction to getting fingers in his ass. mr repressed and uptight over here doesnt really get what the big deal is until he gets braver and pushes a little deeper and hes rock hard in an instant, goodbye, just like everybodys favorite creative writing exercise

and this is what he decides to do for a solid day or two without leaving his room, because, honestly, this is awesome. and the longer he spends jerking off the less time he spends stressing about the fact that his imaginations getting really vivid, here. sure, like, hes no stranger to weird dreams even before this, but this is the first time hes really letting his mind run wild and this dude is nonstop thinking about being bred and gordon still has no fucking idea that hes in heat. doesnt even occur to him

unfortunately this also does not solve his problems but at least it feels baller and it keeps him occupied. also, unfortunately, the increased rate of jerking off is causing a serious uptick in Dog Smells, the effect of which is turning freemind into a nightmare. its just not good vibes in this house. enter: benrey

now i need you to understand that when these two meet up again i want gordon to get Emotional. think about how genuinely excited he gets to see some of his pals in canon. the like......excitement and disbelief when benrey shows up outside his window throwing rocks at it before noclipping in. he forgets to even act pissed off at first. i think it would be super fucking cute for him to drop the game for a moment just out of shock, basically. his tails waggin, his ears are perked up, and hed probably tackle benrey to the ground if he wasnt also a sweaty, trembling mess whos been holed up in his room for days.

and benrey has No Fucking Idea what he has walked in on here. as far as benrey knows, freemind just demanded he get over there and take care of his dog.

(INTERLUDE: here is the part where i gin up a freemind POV of this exact scene. b/c i am out of my fucking mind

so. i had the thought of a freemind POV chapter where hes spying on gordon and benrey.....because. gordons in heat. ive talked about that scenario before too (literally so many FUCKING times okay i just need this dude to have the uncontrollable urge to be bred like a little bitch! and for benrey to take pity on him and make him feel better by nutting in him literally as many times as is physically possible!!!)

but i wanna manifest it in this specific way: from an outside perspective. voyeurism is great and also i have a one track mind and basically the only time i traffic in Other Guys in this fandom anymore is as a participant in gordon and benreys horse shit. Im not apologizing for this

lets say.....vr gordons behavior has been getting worse and worse for "unknown reasons" and freeman prime just sees it as a key observational opportunity for his research. while freeminds getting really irritated at how much its cutting into his normal way of life. for one thing, vr gordons room reeks, and he cant even escape it in his own room! and its turning him into a feisty, aggressive, and loud son of a bitch. but he cant even resolve it in his usual fashion at this point (baiting vr gordon into another competition/fuckfest) b/c gordons being a little sadsack holed up in his room and doesnt wanna play

but also.....he kinda just feels bad for the guy at a certain point. hes clearly really miserable and looks downright ill and all hes asking for is to see his boytoy again. (gordons convinced that hes dying, and feels the need to dramatically speak to benrey one last time before he croaks.) so freemind decides, in all his benevolence, to go over gordon primes head and drag the guy over there anyway. (with machinations, not his literal bare hands. what is he, a caveman?) he reasons that itll be a good opportunity to twist gordons arm into groveling at his feet later

and he spies on the two of them in gordons room.....why? idk. possibly something to do with investigating this relationship between a gordon and a barney that he had yet to fully analyze. tl;dr he gets trapped in their closet for a remix of that one barmey voyeurism chapter b/c why the fuck not

i just.....i dont know.....i think theres something really charming about a 3rd party not being able to fully make out what theyre saying or doing but piecing things together anyway.....like benreys weirdly soft tone of voice when hes talking to a super agitated gordon. as far as any of them know, hes not really like that. he either sounds bored or smug, but either way, its usually straight-up antagonistic

it would make freemind bristle to hear it b/c its almost a mocking tone, but.....it makes gordons shoulders drop and gets him to let go of some of that tension and thats probably fascinating to watch. literally soothing him like a stressed out dog, huh. smoothing back his hair and murmuring things in a low, even tone that freeminds enhanced hearing still isnt good enough to make out. (the guy mumbles, okay? he needs a fucking toastmasters meetup.)

it would equal parts horrify and fascinate freemind, in my onion. watching a version of himself fall that hard into the loyal pet role.....its pathetic! for all that gordon goes on about not being a slave to his instinct or whatever, he sure is doing a bad job of acting like it! its like watching himself, but worse.

and benreys having to soothe him like a startled animal b/c he doesnt even know whats wrong with himself, but theres something thick enough on the air that even benrey can smell it, and hes taking some stabs at the dark. especially with how charged some of the shit gordons saying is......"i cant fucking take it anymore", "you smell so good", "i dont know whats wrong with me, man, my dick hasnt gone down for days and im pretty sure i need a doctor-- no, a real one, not the other gor-- NOT a vet, JESUS"

and the whole time.....freeminds peeking from behind a closet door. watching them devolve from outright hostility into "gordon climbing into benreys lap and shoving one of benreys hands up his shirt and demanding that he fucking touch him already"

normally i dont think freemind would be averse to a little bit of voyeurism, here. if it was anybody else, hed probably at least engage in a little heavy petting. but this is getting weird, man. he cant shake the uncanny feeling that this is something too intimate for him to be watching. for one thing, gordons whimpering like a goddamn dog just from a little necking, and for two, hes never really been the kind of guy to watch people make out for 15 minutes before they get to the good stuff

its just kind of unsettling how much these two clearly really, really like each other at this point. its not like watching gordon prime give vr gordon a handjob as part of a "test". freemind expected more of a hatefuck kind of deal out of these two, what with how often gordons normally going on about how much he hates the guy, what a pain in the ass benrey is, how he just wishes benrey would stop jerking him around.....etc. freemind could shit himself right now. that lying bitch!

i imagine its also kind of painful, on a personal level, for him to watch this borderline-sappy shit. he cant even fathom being on the receiving end of that behavior, let alone from......well. theyve all got their barneys, right? and gordon primes basically doomed himself to incel status b/c he wont nut up and do anything about it. freemind just assumed they were all in the same boat: cursed to casual sex with their roommates/clones, forever, and unable to achieve any kind of intimacy b/c all 3 gordons are fucked up in the exact same way. since theyre all just diff flavors of the same fucking guy, right?

well, theres the evidence that hes wrong. and that vr gordons better than him, somehow. thats gotta suck, bro

anyway then he watches vr gordon get railed in the ass a bunch and jerks off anyway b/c its still hot. see ya)

“take care of your dog”. huh. hes got no clue what that means but, yknow, he does kinda miss his dog. hasnt seen gordon in awhile. and he immediately comments "wow. you look fucked up" in as blunt and unsympathetic a way as possible. but gordons so far gone that he cant even work up a good anger about it. he is pretty fucked up, man. and benrey sits on the bed and slaps his forehead with a palm to take his temperature (and that gets gordon to bitch at him, finally, that thats not how you do it, asshole) and judges that, uh, he is hot. in his expert opinion

and thats when gordon kinda grabs his sleeve and tugs it and starts tryin to say something. hes really bad at it, because he is having to perform the mortifying task of Owning Up To It, but eventually he manages to grind out that he needs benrey to touch him, please. just pet him. something. he feels really bad and he just needs benrey to scratch his fucking ears. this is the most gordon can cop to in one go, and it is such a sad struggle to watch, but benreys caught off guard by it and he feels weirdly bad for gordon upon hearing it so hes just like "whoa, okay" when gordon tugs his hand to his head

gordon groans the moment his fingernails start scratching behind the ears and digging into his scalp. even just that much feels really fucking good. its comforting, for one thing, and its benrey, for another, and the physical touch feels so fucking good right now that goosebumps are crawling down his neck. gordon cant help but lean against benrey and bury his head in the crook of his shoulder. he wants to hide his face from scrutiny and he wants to get closer but he doesnt know how to say what his fucking problem is

and benreys weirdly quiet. just kinda mumbling and shushing him intermittently, awkward and not sure what to do b/c this is a level of intimacy he was not expecting but gordons sure is responding nicely to a second hand in his hair

so having both of benreys hands scratching at his scalp is really getting to gordon. hes scritchin behind the ears and gordons tails wagging at a mile a minute. the feelings making goosebumps race down his neck and arms. he starts kind of mumbling something into benreys shoulder, how hes been feeling so fucked up lately, and he squirms a little closer. hes not really aiming for anywhere in particular but every neuron thats firing in him right now is telling him to get closer. make contact. he missed the fucking guy, what can he say.

and one of benreys hands......slips down to gordons face. his jaw. a thumb pushing into that soft little divot between his jaw and neck, like hes trying to push up into gordons fucking teeth. its weird and bizarrely intrusive, but benreys hand is broad and warm and gordon leans into it anyway, groaning with relief. its not like its not doing anything for him. kind of the opposite, actually. then he palms at gordons neck, and gordon starts breathing harder. he can feel his heartbeat rabbit-fast, pushing against benreys skin (and theres no way benrey isnt feeling that, too).

benrey eyes are lidded and his breaths starting to get heavier, too. naturally, yknow, since gordons practically draped over him right now, melting all the more the longer benrey keeps petting him. oxytocin is crazy, man, especially when a guys in the full throes of some kind of chemical meltdown of the glands. gordons eyes are screwed shut, tail thumping furiously against the bed, and hes panting at benreys neck like hes a fucking dog. he just doesnt know how to articulate what the fuck his problem is

benrey smells insanely good to him right now, and gordon just blurts that out. benrey gives him some shit for it, but when gordon only makes a weird noise in response and fists his hands in benreys hoodie, it makes him shut up real quick. hes squeezing out words about feeling like he needs something, but its clearly a fucking effort. its almost pitiful

so. gordons crawled right into benreys lap, too impatient after days and days of feeling like this (you know, being in heat, in so many words). hes been pounding off like crazy, that brand new collar of his strapped to his neck nearly every time b/c hes that desperate to feel… well. *benrey*. he cant fucking jerk off to thoughts of anything else - porn doesnt do it for him, and his fantasies slip right back to the same thing every single time. its frustrating! hes bisexual, for gods sake! its not like hes normally immune to the wiles of the Phat Ass White Girl, but lately he just keeps ending up on his hands and knees and whining benreys name into his pillow and he couldnt focus on a girls rack if he tried

point being. hes being awfully fucking demanding. (and also, hes wearing the collar *right fucking now)*. he shoves benreys hand up his shirt and shivers the moment he makes contact with gordons burning-hot flesh. and hes demanding that benrey touch him already, jesus, hes losing his mind! and benreys just crooning at him, “bossy, huh,” but hes scritching gordons ears and palming at his side and nosing at gordons neck and gordon starts to feel like hes melting into it. his protests at being talked down to are perfunctory at best

benrey licks a stripe up gordons neck and starts muttering his stupid horseshit right in gordons ear and it makes gordon clutch his shoulders so tight, claws digging into the meat of him. benreys kind of into it, though, and it just makes him laugh, low and harsh and right in gordons ear. that just makes gordons problem worse. he lets out quiet, nasal whines on every exhale, like a literal fucking dog.

he starts teasing, like, “haha, you’re *gagging* for it, bro,” but gordon doesnt respond with the defensiveness he expects. instead, its like opening a floodgate - he is, hes fucking *desperate*, okay, his dick hasnt gone down in days and he wants benrey so bad he cant see straight and he cant stop thinking about him and all of this comes tumbling out of him at once. gordons trying to press himself as close to benrey as he can physically get, legs straddling benreys lap and arms clutched tight around his back. and when benrey prods a little more, tells gordon to say what hes been thinkin about, gordon starts to pant, squeezing his eyes shut. but he cant bring himself to do anything more than choke and stutter on the words

hes half-hard in his underwear already (and, lets be be clear, he was only in boxer briefs and a tank top to begin with. hes sweating buckets and its the least amount of clothing he could get away with wearing around the house) and his tails thumping a mile a minute and hes so far gone, just from benrey talking down to him and kissing his neck and scratching his ears. but hes not budging yet, so benrey slides that hand on his ears over to his ponytail and *yanks*. tells him, “speak.” gordons dick twitches rapidly, and he lets out a sharp sound, and he finally says it: he needs benrey to *fuck* him, jesus

benrey lets out a harsh breath at that. “yeah? thats what puppy wants?” and the nickname should blister him, make him feel to embarrassed to continue, but gordons too desperate to care. he just starts spewing a litany of “god yes”s and “please”s. hes getting harder and harder, pressed up against benreys belly, and benrey can *feel* it. “good boy,” he mutters, and those claws dig harder, that panting gets louder and harsher

he slips a hand around to gordons back, rubbing slowly for a moment as if to soothe him, and then slides it under the back of gordons boxers. and lower still. starts rubbing at gordons hole. that gets a quiet “oh god” out of gordon.

gordon cant help himself - he rocks forward against benrey, just a little, rubbing his bulge against what he realizes is benreys *extremely* hard dick in his sweatpants. hes not the only one whos got it bad. but he *is* the only one whispering, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” as benrey pushes a little further, makes as if hes about to breach gordon dry. the poor guys so needy that he probably wouldnt even argue!

but benrey just stares at him, wide eyed and flushed, mouth hanging open a little. gordons so hot for this that it surprises the both of them.

anyway after some boring position finagling benrey coaxes gordon onto his hands and knees, running a broad hand down gordons shaking back. and he pulls back gordons tail, exposing him. its so fucking humiliating - gordons got his face buried in a pillow, and his ass in the air, and hes never felt so *vulnerable* before. he wants to argue, he wants to lift his head and look back to make sure that everythings, like, okay back there - benreys staring at his entire asshole, okay, and he wasnt exactly anticipating benrey making a house call to fuck him in the ass - but every time he lifts his head, or starts to say something neurotic about it, benrey chides him about it. clicks his tongue. tells him, “hey. dogs dont talk” or “i said *bow*, bro”.

for all his insisting that hes a real guy, that hes not just a dog, gordons feeling less and less like a human and more like something in thrall to his instincts. the condescension rankles like it always does, but doing what benrey tells him to feels good. feels natural. presenting himself like this feels like what hes *supposed* to do. it doesnt stop him from running his mouth entirely, but it helps to mitigate some of the embarrassment.

and then… benrey *licks*. gordon tenses and gasps. he doesnt know how benrey can stand it, its gotta be, like, unhygienic! but that didnt scare him off the last time they tried this, and its not like gordon hasnt thought about it since. hes thought about it a lot, actually. but hes been too neurotic to ask for it. benreys not stupid, though. hes a good dog owner (at least, so he thinks) and hes gonna take care of his dog. so he licks again, and again, pressing a little harder against gordons hole on each pass with the broad side of his tongue until he dares to breach it with the tip.

gordons rock hard again in an instant. his dick hangs between his legs and drips onto the sheets. he digs his fingers into the pillow now, tearing holes in its surface with those sharp nails of his, and he makes embarrassingly high noises that he muffles into into the pillow, too. hes tense, hes so fucking tense, he should be clamping down and making benreys task really fucking hard, but theres bright pink sweet voice dripping from his hole and benreys rubbing the side of his thigh in an effort to soothe him and both of these things work in tandem to get him to relax. and benrey works his tongue in further, further than a human ought to.

the tip was one thing, but it gets wider as benrey pushes it in, and its just as good as it was before - better, even, because now its just the two of them, just a master and his dog, and benreys the only one he wants to see him like this. bent over and whimpering. he cant— he cant stomach the thought of anybody else doing this to him. hell, there was a point once where the idea of stomaching *benrey* doing this to him would have made him laugh. but here he is. benreys fucking him open with his tongue and pressing against something thats making him see stars and gordon just wants *more*. he says it so sweet, too, voice growing hoarse and raw as he begs benrey to just fucking do it already, he doesnt wanna come like this!

gordon gets so worked up and emotional about it that benrey takes the time to scratch behind his ears again, shushing him and telling him to chill. benreys got him. hes been a good dog, and good dogs get treats. hearing the words “good dog” makes gordons entire body flush. thats all he wants, really. he wants to be a good dog. he wants to be *told*. he blurts out, “oh my god— say it again,” and benreys like, “huh? say what? youre gonna have to be more specific,” clicking the last syllable. it makes all the hairs on gordons head rise and prickle with shame. the best he can do is mumble it into his pillow.

benrey hears it, though, and tugs at gordons collar from behind, just enough to raise his head. “whassat? you want me to call you a good boy?” gordon cant bring himself to answer that directly, but his stupid body betrays him by making him whine. jesus christ, yes, thats all he WANTS! he needs benrey to be good and nice to him for once in his fucking life and give him what he wants instead of taking, taking, taking! but benrey just tells him that hes gonna have to earn it. gonna have to be *real* good for him. gordon could fucking snarl at that, but benreys pulling back to rub his dick between gordons cheeks and against his hole and that shuts him up pretty fast because hes *so close* to getting what he wants and hes not about to fuck it up now by running his big dumb mouth

and then… he starts to push in. that sweet voice has loosened gordon up enough to take even benrey, who, uh, is definitely the bigger of the two, in that regard. he goes slow, uncharacteristically so, and gordons chest heaves with the force of how hard hes breathing. a quiet string of “oh god”s spills out of him as he tries to crane his neck back to watch. the head breaches him with a strange popping sensation, and benrey groans, loud, as the rest of him slides in with little resistance in comparison. “good,” he pants in turn, “youre takin it so good,” and—

and gordon comes, in weak, aborted spurts. it snuck up on him. he clenches so fucking tightly that it winds benrey a little. he breathes out, “whoa. did you—” but gordon just begs him to shut up, keep going, hes not— hes not done yet, its always like this, its not *enough*. his dick barely even flags afterward, it just hangs there, achingly hard and dripping with cum. benrey cant even find it in himself to make fun of him. he wants it so fucking bad, doesnt he? and he feels so good, so fucking tight and slick around benrey that the only thought running through his head is “gotta take care of my dog gotta fuck my best friend gotta nut in him and make him howl”. so he pushes himself alllll the way in until theyre pressed together, skin to skin.

then he starts to move. slow, careful thrusts, more for benreys benefit than gordons. if hes not careful, hes gonna blow his load, right then and there, and hes trying to make it good for gordon, too, okay? unlike *some* of them, hes not gonna bust in two minutes and then spend the next half hour crying and trauma-dumping to the guy hes still got his dick inside of.

once he thinks hes got a grip, though, benrey starts fucking him in earnest, and that changes gordons vocalizations from weak little whimpers into something louder. less restrained. hes given up any pretense of being quiet so that his other selves dont hear that hes snuck his boytoy into his room. just loud, wordless moans on each thrust, initially muffled into the pillow but soon spilling into the wider room when he turns his head to catch his breath. the only words hes managing are “oh god” and “please” and “benrey, benrey, *benrey*”, and benrey just responds to him like, “yeah? thats good? fuuuck, bro, so good for me,” all short of breath and barely able to speak himself

he wants to see gordons face. he *needs* to see gordons face. needs to see what hes doing to him, needs to see that cute fuckin blush of his. so he tugs on gordons collar again, bringing him to his hands and knees properly instead of that bowing position. and then further still - pulls him back so that benreys on his knees, and gordons on his knees in turn, on his lap, cock still buried inside of him and fucking him in short, hurried thrusts. “paws up,” benrey tells him, and gordon does it. instantly. no resistance. just folds them at his chest like a real dog would.

“whos a good boy?” benrey croons, right in his ear again. gordon gasps, “i-i am!”

“yeah? youre a good boy?” nod, wail. “whose— whose good boy are you?”

and gordon chokes on his response. he cant say it, he *cant*, he doesnt want to be benreys but he does, he *does*. he doesnt want to be benreys because its not fucking fair! he cares so fucking much! so much more than benrey does, it feels like, obsessing over the guy like hes wrapped thorny vines all around gordons heart and he cant so much as shift in his seat without feeling the tug and the ache and thinking of benrey again. and benrey doesnt care, he never fucking cares, except—

except he showed up at gordons house, in his room. without even being asked. like he knew something was wrong. and he— hes always talking to gordon, shooting him stupid texts just to make him laugh. scheduling *date nights* for them. date nights where, yeah, maybe they couldnt see each other in person, and maybe they always end in some kind of depraved sexual act, but its not like gordons not into it. hes frighteningly into it, actually. and hes *so* into hearing benreys voice, low and crooning, right in his ear, and seeing him lean on an elbow and smile at him afterward. its— its practically genuine. and benreys always making excuses to talk with him, do things with him, watch stupid fucking movies that only gordon cares about and stream with him on twitch to help boost his subscriber count and—

and—

oh god. maybe he *does* care. that might be more terrifying than the alternative.

then benrey yanks the collar again. presses the whole of gordons back against his front in one hot, unbroken line. and asks, “i said, whose good boy are you, bro? *speak.*”

“benrey,” he blurts out, a ragged moan, “d-dont make me sa-AY it, oh god—”

“no?” benrey stills suddenly. his hands keep gordon stuck in place, unable to move or bounce or feel benrey shift inside of him. “thats, uh… thats too bad, friend. this trains for good boys only. good dogs go to heaven 2. no bad dogs allowed. gonna have to, uhh, escort you off—”

“im not a bad dog!”

“i dunno, gordo. bein’ kind of, uh… disobedient.”

(sorry. thats all i got . byeeee)

#this is so far from finished b/c A) im a coward now and B) typing qith my left hand sucks so i dont wanna do it right now. Sorry #writin stuff

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