#kind of a long read even if lazy so be ready
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To celebrate the Dark Revival... we uncovered something sitting in the archives for quite some time.
This is a script. One for a special that was apparently slotted to be released in the month of April originally. That was all that could be discerned from the documents, what year in specific is still lost. There are even a select number of characters exclusive to this script who appear nowhere else across the Bendy IP prior to the 1990s.
((short version: Here's an "April Fools special" that's been a low effort WIP script for a long, long, LONG time. Enjoy the crack.))
DUE TO THE OUTLANDISHLY VAST FAN-DEMAND, BENDY AND BUDDIES IS NOW PERMANANTLY CHANGED TO SUIT THE HIGH DEMANDS YOU BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE HAVE ALWAYS WANTED! SO PLEASE ENJOY THE NEW, AND IMPROVED, BENDY AND BUDDIES AND THE INK MACHINE ADVENTURES!!!
[Bendy and Buddies and Etc. is filmed in front of a fictional studio audience.]
Angie; “Bendy! I was hoping that the both of us could visit the beach once more, mayhap we can bring the others as well?”
Bendy; “Ah, sure Anj! Sounds like it’d be fu-“
(Alice walk in and puts her arms around Bendy, very deliberately having his head near her breasts. Cue sitcom audience cheers as Alice enters.)
Alice; “Ohhh, but Bendy just promised to take me out for a date! So sorry, maybe he can play little games with you some other time, sweetums~?”
Bendy; “Alice, c’mon! she was inviting all of us! She wasn’t excluding you on purpose or something, right?”
Angie; “Um... yes, of course she may accompany us! I do not see why Alice canno-”
(Alice and Bendy make quick confused noises at Angie’s response before resuming.)
Alice; “Oh, of course! It is just like privileged little you to try and take Bendy all for yourself! Sorry airhead, but Bendy is far too grown up for a childish little girly-girl like you! A handsome devil like this deserves a real woman like me!”
(bouncy sound effects to imply her boobs are flopping around.)
Angie; “But, Lady Alice, I never intended-!”
Bendy; (anxiously, under his breath) “Anj, just grab my arm!”
(Angie tries to reason peacefully until Bendy gestures her to grab hold of one of his arms. Alice has his other arm in the usual love-triangle tug-of-war scenario/trope. Angie looks less “grumpy” and more uncomfortable)
Bendy; “Ladies, ladies! Please, there’s plenty of the Devil Darling to go around!”
Angie; “You are in samples??”
(Bendy’s surprised, laughs a bit and is about to correct her until Alice cuts in again)
Alice; “It’s an expression, nitwit! See Bendy? Why bother with this Dumb Dora, when you can have a Darlin Dame~?”
(Angie is saddened by the persistent bullying from Alice’s end)
Bendy; (angrily to Alice, under his breath again) “You’re not helpi-!”
(cut to Boris nearby with a banjo)
Boris; “Gee wiz Bendy, quite the heartbreaker lately aren’cha?”
Bendy; (dramatically) “it’s my devilish charms, I can’t help it!”
Boris; “One’a these days it’s gonna be yer downfall, attracting so many-“
(Sammy shows up the hell out of nowhere.)
Sammy; “Wonderful Lord Bendy! Let me sniff your holy panties!”
Boris: “Well, if it isn’t that super-wacky Sammy! The head of the Music Department who has no note-worthy character outside of blindly worshiping Bendy! He was never a toon like us, but… um, guess he’s here anyway! Hooray!”
Sammy; “insert anime joke here!”
Bendy; (in pure dread) “Oh no-“
(And now Wally shows up, also the hell out of nowhere.)
Wally; “Regardless of how Bendy’s lovelife goes, if it makes another damn tidal wave of a mess I gotta clean up: I’M OUTTA HERE!”
(stupid laughtracks playing)
Alice; “He said the catchphrase!”
Bendy; “Wally the Janitor is just hilarious in everything he pops up in, right everyone!?”
Boris; “Sponsored by the following companies listed.” (onscreen there’s several of the in-universe businesses in the canon-verse. Maybe throw in a reference to other fictitious companies? Acme is a definite one to add.)
Bendy; “Actually, Alice… I don’t think you really specified where you wanted to have that date anyway, where were you thinking?”
Alice; “Oh, I thought you’d never ask, my Widdle Debil! Infact, I want all of you to come with, please do follow your angel!”
Bendy and Boris; (failing to see how suspicious that was) “Sounds good to me!”
As Bendy, Boris and Sammy obediently follow Alice, Angie is called by someone else off-screen the opposite way.
Angie; “Wait, what was that?”
(murmured gibberish a’la Peanuts is heard)
Angie; “Oh um, alright then.”
(The ‘gang’, sans Angie, arrive at Joey Drew Studios. I’ll prolly just take a photo of whatever animation studio or old building from google and slap the JDS logo on top of it. Laziness!)
Alice; “And here we are!”
Bendy; “Uhh… Alice??”
Boris; “Isn’t this the old studio?... Y’know, as in that place where all of us experienced terrible, traumatic pasts involving human experimentation and brutal ritualistic sacrifices that’ve left us all emotionally and mentally scared forever and other dark, gruesome things like that?”
(Bendy is a little taken aback by Boris’ detailed description.)
Bendy; “… Yeah… I thought we all vowed to never come back here…? Wasn’t finally getting out a highly triumphant moment for us or something?”
Sammy; “Lord Bendy, your buttocks is scrumptious like hamburgers!”
Alice; “Oh, I assure you! I have very good reasons for why I chose to take you all here! I have one… no, TWO very important things I’ve needed to show you all for a long time!”
Bendy; “Only now this has been brought up??”
Alice; “both are a lot to take in, but I need you to trust me… do you doubt your angel~?”
Bendy; “Ahh… fine then.”
Boris; “I’m ready for anything.”
(Alice looks up and calls to someone)
Alice; “Alright deary-pie, you can come out now!”
(stupid dramatic sound effects as the apparent newcomer is revealed)
Geno-Fur; “Hello, everyone!! It’s me, Geno-Fur!!”
Sudden Narrator; “Thaaaat’s right! It’s Geno-Fur the DemonAngel, the most powerful cartoon character in all of Toon Town! The perky, talented daughter of Bendy the Demon and Alice Angel with the help of the Ink Machine, this cute toon angel demon girl has an inner inky darkness unlike any other! She’s oh-so deep, mysterious and meaningful everyone!”
Bendy; (more and more like he’s reading it off a script) “Oh my Satan! Alice, we have a long-lost daughter who is beautiful and an objectively perfect and wonderful blend of who we both are! And will probably easily surpass us in popularity! If I had known we had such a blessing who totally didn’t just fall out of the sky, I would have dropped everything, married you and center my entire life around you both!
Sammy; “Praise be unto the blessed firstborn!”
(Boris is bug-eyed, genuinely dumbfounded by what is happening before him)
Boris; “UM…??”
Geno-Fur; “OMG! Mommy, Daddy, thank you so much! You even brought my husband here to see me!
(Geno-Fur hugs Boris hard enough to pop his spine, he’s in pain. “CAN’T… B-BREATHE-!!” his poor banjo has snapped in two. To Boris’ luck, Geno-Fur releases him.)
Bendy; (zero effort on his part) “Don’t go breakin’ my princess’s heart, Boris…”
Alice; “I love beautiful reunions!”
Sammy; “I shall always be a loyal, faithful Side-Hoe willing to pleasure you, your Queen, and your glorious child, my Lord!”
Boris; “Guys, none of this is in my copy of the script, what’s going on?!?”
Alice; “I’ll gladly answer that! What’s going on is my second reason…”
(Alice wipes the side of her face to reveal the same gross Scarface thing going on with Susie-Alice. Shock Horror, she’s also Susie-Alice.)
Alice: “As it turns out, I’m still not near as perfect as I’d like to be!! AH-HAHAHA!”
(Alice cackles evilly as she grabs Boris and drags him into the building. Yes, exactly like the end of Chapter 3.)
Boris; (As he’s spirited away) “WHAAAAAT THEEEEE HAYSTAAACK!?....”
Bendy; “What!? Oh god, Boris!! Hang on buddy, I’m coming!”
(a panicking Bendy runs in to rescue Boris, Sammy and Geno-Fur follow)
Sammy; “M’Lawd! I will follow you to the ends of the earth!”
Geno-Fur; “Mommy!! Daddy!! Why can’t we settle this like normal people!?”
(Bendy is desperately trudging into the studio, unknowingly he is very slowly melting into his monster-form we are all familiar with as he becomes exhausted)
Bendy; “Boris, please hang on!! I’m coming...!! .. Augh… Maybe… Maybe I should hit the gym? NO!! No, I’m fine!! Goddamned fine!! I just gotta… Gotta keep going… Wait, wait… why is my sweat this… thick and… dark?”
(Bendy’s then surprised upon overhearing something, looking to the side to find Henry somewhere in the distance and humming to himself- probably doing one of the Chapter 3 tasks)
Henry; “Joey Drew he likes big fingers in his ass, Joey Drew he likes big fingers in his ass, fingers in his ass, he likes in his-” (yes. It’s that meme. I have zero shame.)
(Bendy slowly becomes angered)
Bendy; “Henry… Henry!!”
(this gets Henry’s startled attention. As Bendy rants he slowly completes his transformation into Monster-Bendy.)
Bendy; “My old, actual for-real creator, Henry… You left everyone… You left ME! Why didn’t you stay!? Was I just a mistake to you, blaming me for everything Joey did!? Why didn’t you love me, Henry!? Was I never good enough for you!? You LIED to us!! You never stopped Joey from all of the atrocities he committed!! You never came back!! You never played catch with me and called me ‘Sport’!! You never threw me a Birthday!! YOU NEVER BOUGHT ME A HAPPY MEAL!!!”
Henry; “Oh gosh!”
(Henry zooms away as fast as he can, his warped and enraged cartoon-demon son giving chase. Suddenly Geno-Fur to the oh-so convenient rescue.)
Geno-Fur; “Oh my god, daddy!! Izzat you?? Ohmygaww I can see why mommy thot u wer hawt!!”
(Bendy is understandably confused by her appearance and comment.)
Bendy; “huh…what??”
(he looks back to where Henry was initially, however Henry’s already in a miracle station also conveniently nearby)
Bendy; “HE’S GONE!! Where did he-!?”
Geno-Fur; “Ummm like… you know that weird up-and-down door and room thingy with buttons??”
Bendy; (surprised at how goddamn stupid she is) “The… you mean the elevator?”
Geno-Fur; “Yeah!! The escalator! I think Henry’s using it to go down to liiiiike… Level 1000!”
Bendy; “…There is no Level 1000. The building doesn’t tunnel down THAT deep.”
Geno-Fur; “Exactly!! Like, he’s going so deep down he’s trying to get to a level that doesn’t exist! I’m sure that if you go all the way down to the last floor, you’ll find Henry! Good luck daddykins!”
Bendy; (half-assing at this point) “Well, I totally trust my perfect hybrid daughter to never lie to me ever and that alibi is highly convincing. I will go.”
(Bendy exists the scene in his usual spooky way, to which Henry hops back out of the station.)
Geno-Fur; “Hurry Henry!! We gotta save mah Woof Hubby and get out of here!! And bring mommy and daddy back with the power of family love!!”
(Geno-Fur tearfully exists, Henry following her.)
Henry; “This is what I got out of retirement for…”
(Cut to Alice’s super-duper evil lab room with Boris strapped to the operating table Frankenstein style. Alice is still acting in-character, in contrast Boris is basically left to ad-lib and isn’t entirely certain on the mood of the scene. Boris scratches at his neck, but quickly puts his arm back in as soon as he realizes they’re rolling.)
Alice; (some obligatory evil chuckling) “… And after I’ve done away with you, Henry AND Bendy, I can continue my makeover with no trouble or interruptions at all! Then I will have the popularity I was always destined for! Now, any last words before you fulfil your purpose, little wolfie~?”
Boris; “is it too early to make a ‘stole my heart’ joke, even though you got the REAL side-splitters, or...?”
(some muffled laughter off-stage is heard, implied to be Rodney behind the camera. Alice is unamused and gestures at Boris threateningly.)
Alice; “Be quiet or I’ll cut you open faster.”
Boris; “Alright, alright, I’ll shush…”
The “mysterious” voice who may or may not be Rodney; “Bitter hag-”
(because of budgetary, technical, and time-related issues… we already skip over to chapter 4 events because we’re basically haphazardly trying to scrunch in the entire canon-game story, not caring if it makes any sense at all like always)
Henry; “Okay, so it’s only now occurred to me to ask; earlier, we were in the show… but as we kept going, all of a sudden we’re in the-?”
Geno-Fur; “YAWN! You’re boring old-man dinosaur talk is super boring, we’re not gonna rescue Boris fast enough if you don’t let me do all of the mouth-stuff! No wonder mommy and daddy wanna murder-fy you, LOL!”
Henry; “I… I don’t even- what the heck is a ‘LOL’, anyway!? Why are you helping me if you’re their daughter or something!?”
Geno-Fur; “Because I’m sooo nice!! :3”
Henry; “How… how do you even work??”
(The Butcher Gang mooks appear right the hell out of nowhere without Henry even opening any of the doors)
Charley; (in a grunty, zombie-ish way) “Now’s are time to shine, boys… Lets take all of our pent-up frustrations out on Henry!”
Geno-Fur; “OOOOOH MY GOOOOOOOD!!! SOOOO KAWAII! THESE GUYS ARE SOOO MY HUSBANDS!”
(she hugs all three up to her tumour-tits, immediately all their necks snap.)
Henry: (not even caring anymore) “I thought you said Boris was your husband.”
Geno-Fur; “Ummm, DUH? Of course, he is! You’ve clearly not been listening to me with your senile old-ness! Seriously, I thought the guy who drew ME would be super-hot and NOT some old BOOMER! Isn’t that right, husbands!?”
(she only now realises the 3 are dead and lets out a big Darth Vader “NOOOO!!!”, Henry is unfazed.)
(Meanwhile, back at Bendy’s Ink Machine throne room - Bendy was able to hear Geno-Fur’s annoying whine from several of those miles upwards)
Bendy; “the hell…? Ugh… probably my cue… A guy just can’t watch his own show on loop in peace anymore…”
(as Bendy speaks he’s existing his “castle” to return to the higher levels. Sammy abruptly appears again in one of the hallways Bendy passes.)
Sammy; “My Lord! I will always be gleeful and willing to perform any request you-!”
(Bendy, not even making eye-contact, clocks Sammy in the head with his “good toon hand” hard enough to put the walking notice-me-senpai-joke out cold, the sound effect a wet and loud POW. Mr Lawrence is unconscious. And maybe missing some teeth.)
Bendy; “Fuckin’ punchline…”
(Cut back to Henry and Geno-Fur at the carnival prototype area. The poor old man is being ranted at by the annoying Mary Sue disaster for killing her 3 other “husbands”. Even though that was her own fault.)
Geno-Fur; “Those valiant gentle-mans meant the world to me and now they’re all gross inky poopy-goop!! This is all YOUR fault, you ugly old murderer-guy, you!! Feel guilty for your evil sins!!”
Henry; “I never even touched them; YOU did that! Please tell me, are you some kinda alien who is trying to mimic what a toon looks and acts like? Because you’re failing miserably.”
Geno-Fur; “I’m young and pretty and you’re a wrinkly old fart!! That means I’m right and you’re wrong!!”
(Henry groans in annoyance, pinching the bridge of his nose)
Henry; “Alright then… Seeing as I’m clearly a hindrance to your ‘noble quest’ or… whatever, how’s about this: you go ahead and complete all of the puzzles needed to unlock the doors, while I search for any clues or another alternate route that could maybe get us into that haunted house faster? I mean, clearly, it’d be my only good contribution to your ‘mission’.”
Geno-Fur; “Pfff, I have a better idea! I’ll go ahead and complete all the puzzles needed to unlock the doors, while YOU search for any clues or another alternate route that could maybe get us into that haunted house faster! I mean, clearly, it’d be your only good contribution to my mission!”
(As Geno-Fur sneers she walks to the puzzle-room that has Norman in it, Henry has an expression that all but states he wants to see this obnoxious girl get hit by a truck.)
Henry; “You…go do that.”
Geno-Fur; “YAS! And I’ma doit like a sexy QUEEN~!!”
(As she enters the door shuts behind her, trapping her there until the task would be completed.)
Henry; “Okay then… Better think of something before she gets back. I can only put up with that rotten attitude for so long…”
(Before Henry knew it, he now hears several sounds indicative of clutter and a chase as he sadly must hear Geno-Fur’s voice once more, although muffled through the walls and corridors… There are gradually more muffled sounds of disaster around him, almost impossibly so as Geno-Fur’s whining can be heard amongst it. Sounds range from explosions, to car horns and all the way to an elephant. Henry is utterly lost.)
Henry; “What the devil is that brat doing!?”
(as soon as the noise dies down finally, all the doors and puzzles have spontaneously been completed. Whatever Geno-Fur caused in there, it finished everything for him.)
Henry; “Wait, already?... Huh, that screechy rat-girl helped with progress for once…”
(Not wasting any time, Henry hops into the attraction and heads towards one of the carts on the track. Extra sound-effects/in-game audio to indicate the ride starts, as Henry is slowly carted through the tunnel-portion the intercom is switched on, it’s Boris and Susie-Alice mid-conversation. Alice sounds angered with a reasonable Boris.)
Boris; “-I’m just saying, you weren’t part of Henry’s initial vision when making this show, and that isn’t a bad thing! I mean, Lola got popular after Space Jam-“
Susie-Alice; “And popular with who, exactly!? A bunch of perverts who don’t care about character! But as soon as I make it to the big top, the world will know I’m appealing in mind AND sexuality! So, what if I was Joey’s add-on!? I was the best thing to happen to you and Bendy’s sad little circus!”
Boris; “Alice, look, there’s no need to get hostile. I’ve been trying to help you and turn it around into something positive. You’re the one choosing to see it as something wrong. You’re not one of Henry’s characters like Bendy and I. That isn’t an insult, it’s what happened!”
Susie-Alice; “Well! You!... You’re just a sad, stupid mongrel who digs up bones! And your friend is a fat, gremlin slob who’ll never have anything near as wonderful as me!! How do you like that, huh!? What do have to say to that!?”
Boris; “I’d say now you’re just yelling like an angry school-kid ‘cuz you don’t have a point.”
(Henry pays no heed to the Halloween-themed pop-ups as he listens in awkwardly)
Henry; “I might’ve jumped in too soon...”
(Susie-Alice and Boris both let out surprised a “huh?”)
Henry; “Oh! Did… did you two hear me? Didn’t think it worked that way.”
Boris; “Howdy Henry! Real quick, was all’a that ruckus earlier from that Jenny-chick? Sounded like a twister full of cats was let loose in here!”
Susie-Alice; “How much did you hear!? Wait, wait!! How do you shut this off!? Can we do this over!? Make the cart stop right now! I was supposed to give a profound and depressing speech--!!”
(the intercom is abruptly cut as Alice panics, likely because she was scrambling on the buttons. Henry’s already at the “house” part of the ride with paintings and such.)
Henry; “… I’ll just tell her I only heard something about bones and gremlins.”
(As Henry is carted across the room, he comments on the environment casually)
Henry; “Wonder who did the paintings in here? I need to ask around when I can. I don’t think the poor fella ever got credit, knowing Joey’s ‘forgetfulness’… Bertrum prolly has the answer, if he’s still nearby.”
(Henry’s about to head into the dark tunnel where Boris *would* be there as a Frankenstein monster to make it stop… but no, he isn’t there. Not to any degree.)
Henry: “Uhh… ‘Oh no! what has she done to you!?’ …”
(He clears his throat, then adds more base to his voice)
Henry: “…’OH NO! what has she done to you!?’ …”
(Although Henry’s deeper into the darker portion of the ride than what was normal, his tired prayer is answered as a pair of hands latch onto the cart and force it to stop. They, however, are not Boris’ mega-hands… But Norman’s, as is indicative by what Henry can see as well as the grunts. He has removed the camera-head mask)
Henry: “… ‘Boris! What has she do-!?’ wait… wait, Nor-?”
(Norman, shrouded in shadows, cuts Henry off with a panicked “SHH!!”, then whispers...)
Norman: “Look, Hen, I’m having as hard a time to follow what’s going on as you are. I’m going to push you back and adjust the cart, so it doesn’t keep moving. This did not happen, and you never saw me!”
Henry: “Of course… Highly terrifying Ink-monster who I did not see here…”
Norman: “There we go.”
(As the not-Projectionist(?) stated, he shoved the cart back and made quick work to turn it in such a way that it wouldn’t continue onward on the track. Henry is awkwardly left alone waiting for the warped-Boris cue.)
Rodney, undoubtedly the cameraman now and in a snarky mood; “… Isn’t something supposed to happen in this clearly suspenseful climax we’ve been building up to?”
(There is a loud “BONK” sound effect as Rod is clocked on the noggin by somebody else, resulting in an annoyed “OW!! Son of a…!!” from him.)
(Susie-Alice enters the room without warning, very blatantly stalling for time with improvisations. Henry hardly reacts.)
Susie-Alice; “We meet again, Henry! You’re trapped in my web, and a little fly like you will have no chance of escape!”
Henry; “Didn’t you already use that spider-web analogy a while ago...?”
Susie-Alice; “Soon! Your face will be an analogy for all the pain and ruin you’ve done unto me which is very clearly your fault as much as Joeys’! But! Unlike your ruined face mine will be fixed and I’ll be the heavenly starlet idol I’ve always deserved to be!”
Henry; “You lost me.”
Susie-Alice; “And I’ll make you lose your head too! Literally, not figuratively!”
(she charges to him dramatically, brandishing a vase prop from the table. Henry leisurely hops out of the cart finally.)
Henry; “a cue to fight and defend myself, alrighty then...”
(Before Henry could spring into this on-the-spot “Boss Battle”, a sudden gent pipe whizzes through the air at a beeline to Susie-Alice’s head. It’s only hard enough to make her stop in her tracks with a surprised shriek and grunt to herself for a little in pain. Standing on top of the cart Henry had exited is “Allison Alice”. She’s posed dramatically and without Tom.)
“Allison”; “Please, don’t give up Henry! You’re our only hope!... Don’t know why I said that here and now, but I did…”
Henry; (fake gasp, he’s clearly getting tired) “Oh My Goodness, another Amy the Angel?”
“Allison”; “Um, it’s ‘Alice’-”
Henry; “-Dearie me, given that there have been dozens of Boris copies, does that mean there are just as many of you?”
“Allison”; “Honestly, you’ll love what I still remember about what happened to Lacie.”
(Susie moans about her brow hurting, “Allison” remembers her other lines.)
“Allison”; “OH! Uhh by the way Henry do not be deceived by this awful, evil witch! Even though I look even less like her, I’m absolutely the real and goody-good Alice Angel!”
(This accusation catches Susie-Alice’s attention, and she angrily glares daggers at her like a snobby teenaged girl who got upstaged at prom.)
Susie-Alice; “You attention-whore hussy! I’m the REAL Alice Angel!”
“Allison”; “No, I’M Alice!”
Susie-Alice; “I’m Alice Angel!”
“Allison”; “I’m Alice Angel!”
Susie-Alice; “I’m Alice Angel!”
“Allison”; “I’m Alice Angel!”
Susie-Alice; “I’m Dirty Dan!”
“Allison”; “I’m Dirty Dan!”
(they both pause)
Susie-Alice; “…Did that really just come out of our mouths-?”
(explosion and clutter noises, everyone is surprised. It’s Geno-Fur having burst into the haunted house room through the wall.)
Geno-Fur; “Shit! I was so lucky daddy saved me from that creepy camera-head guy! He could’ve grabbed my sexy butt and make it all gross with the weird ink corruption!!”
Henry; (under his breath) “Why did neither of them strangle her…”
Geno-Fur; “Mommy! Stop it! I know you’re like so much more than all this darkness and suffering! I totes forgive you for turning my woof hubby all ugly, because I know we can all fix and love him together! You don’t have to stab anything! You nurtured me and made me the proud, talented, and strong woman I am today!”
“Allison”; “… are you talking to her or me??”
Geno-Fur; “Yes!!”
(Monster-Bendy’s signature Ink Aura seeps into the room as he suddenly approaches. Oh, the suspense!)
Henry, actually surprised by this; “Wait a minute, already?? How did he know to come right here!?”
Henry, now grumpily; “... It was that pea-brained banshee, wasn’t it. All of that obnoxious wailing lured him to us!”
Geno-Fur; “Shuttup! I’m legit the reason anything good happened here!!”
Henry, rolling his eyes; “Oh yeah. Sure…”
(Boris… Oh Sorry I mean Franken-Boris, finally enters the scene… however everyone is still talking, and he just stands there in the back awkwardly now that any room for his cue to start the monster act is completely null with the current cast ensemble. Once more, none of what is now transpiring was in his copy of the script. He’d be whistling and twiddling his “thumbs” if they weren’t so massive and heavy now.)
Monster-Bendy, finally; “Well, I for one can’t wait to make... Whatever her name is stay quiet ONCE AND FOR ALL! But first things first, my bloody and graphic vengeance on HENRY!”
Susie-Alice; “HEY! Wait your turn, fatty! I’m having vengeance on him FIRST!”
Monster-Bendy; “THE FUCK YOU JUST CALL ME!? FINE THEN, MY VENGENCE IS ON EVERY PATHETIC SOUL IN THIS ROOM!”
“Allison”; “I was supposed to get Hen out of here by now??”
Geno-Fur; “DADDYYYYYY! NUUUUUUU! LEMME TOK 2 U!!”
Monster-Bendy; “WHAT!?”
Geno-Fur; “Plz, DADDY!
Monster-Bendy; “I heard you the first time-”
Geno-Fur; “If you’re not able to look within your heart and see that this isn’t what you want…
Monster-Bendy; “Sweet Solomon, what am I in for.”
Geno-Fur; “I wrote a song, which was 100% not originally by Christina Aguilera, JUST for you about how killing the people you love is wrong, and that I’m your best daughter ever AND LOVE YOU no matter what! It’s really dope and super cooler than what happened in Goofy Movie and I practiced all of the Fortnight dances and Minecraft stuff for it that I put it to and EVERYTHING! Duncha remember you n mommys wedding?? It was super bomb and I was the best gothic flowergirl in fishnets, leather skirt, midnight black corset and red firey boots EVER! Jus remember all de times we were like the best sexiest fam in da WORLD! And after it’s all done, I can play fnaf games with you! And then later, we’ll have another episode where I’m in highschool and Boris-sempai meets me under the cherry-blossom trees and I made him been-toes n’ stuff, and we’re the best OTP ever and Romeo and Juliet could never hope to compare to how deep we got it! And then in the final season it’ll be revealed yer in love with Uncle Cuphead and mommy is all like-!”
Bendy is slack jawed at this stupidity. He finally snaps.
Bendy; “F-… Fortnight and..? Did I hear that? Stop the cameras. Hit the brakes. Back up the bus. STOP THE GODDAMN MUSIC! Listen, I’ve put up with a LOT of braindead pandering malarkey this episode, but shit like FORTNITE REFERENCES and other media where they don’t belong are where I’m drawing the damn line. That tears it! I’m leaving! I don’t give a shit about getting a check anymore! I have a cat to feed and play with back at home, and I’m not wasting anymore time or energy on this! I’VE HAD IT WITH THIS TRIPE!!”
As Bendy rants, he’s removing his huge monster-self costume. Boris struggles out of the fat-suit and discards the gigantic gloves, whipping one of the X’s off his eyelids. They were makeup.
Boris; “I’m right there with you, Bend. I didn’t spend three years religiously studying musical theatre and drama to be in this piece of cow dung!”
“Allison” removes her wig to reveal it’s been Maria the whole time, because the real Allison wanted no part in this.
Maria; “Personally I’d of taken so many fat ones to stay OUT of the camera.”
Boris; “...’Many fat’ what??”
Maria; “I’ll… say when we’re older!”
Boris; “Mari, all of us are presumed 20-somethings-“
Rodney, finally visible as he’s approaching the set: “Rufford could fart on paper, and that’d be better material than this slop.”
Boris; “Who’s to say he isn’t one of the prime suspects? I mean, if it wasn’t Mr. Drew, or Raph-”
Bendy; “I just remembered, where the Blue Hell’s Angie!? She straight-up VANISHED in the middle of act 1!”
Angie, muffled; “Um, I am in here!”
They all look to a wooden box nearby. Boris pries it open to reveal Angie squeezed within.
Angie; “Hello, my friends!”
Bendy; “Anj!”
Angie; “I was informed that this would be my best contribution to the project...”
Boris; “… Wait, why put Angie into one of the crates I was s’posed to SMASH to bits, according to my script copy?”
(Geno-Fur interrupts like always)
Geno-Fur; “NnnnnOOOO!!! You can’t leave now! It was getting soooo gooooood!! I WANT TO SPREAD THE FEELS OF MY FEELS SPEECH!!”
Bendy; “SHADDAP, you obnoxious personification of preteen fanfiction and anime-base art!! C’mon outta there Angie, Henry promised to take us out for donuts after this.”
Angie, freed from the crate; “Oh, lovely!”
Boris; “I call dibs on the first bear claw.”
Maria; “Oh, I can absolutely go for a cream-filling!”
Bendy; “Maria, just.. don’t..”
Alice, trying to get Maria’s attention but ultimately ignored; “Why did the pipe you throw at me SMELL ‘funny’!?”
Dolly enters, just as frustrated about this dumb performance as everybody else.
Dolly; “Ages and ages on EVERYONE’S makeup, and do I get any mention on the end-credits? When I looked them over, NO.”
Rodney, chiming in; “Damn good for a first shot at horror-film sorta faceups, if ya ask me.”
Dolly; “Aw, you!”
Bendy; “Yeah, you got an artists’ hand Dolly! I remember Boris and I having a double-take at how well you captured Alice’s inner evil.”
Dolly; “Spoiling me, every single one of you”
(distant sound of Alice grunting grumpily and walking away from the group.)
Norman, somewhere in the distance: “Let’s just wrap this up and go home everybody, Joey can get his ears hollered off later!”
Bertrum, further away: “MY SCENES WERE SKIPPED OVER ALTOGETHER! THE NERVE OF WHOEVER PLITHERED OUT THIS PIGS’ EXREMENT…!!”
(Various voices are heard as the entire crew dissipates. Improv whatever.)
Henry returns to the remaining “toon crew”, holding a set of car keys
Henry; “Ima’s offered to tag along and pitch in, donuts are our treat fellas!”
Bendy, Angie, Boris, and company (not counting Alice or Geno-Fur) cheer in delight as they follow Henry out to grab some good old Shipley’s. Although still close by, the metaphorical camera is on the lady-trio. They momentarily face the audience.
Dolly; “Just to clarify, none of that hogwash we trudged through is canon.”
Angie; “We still hope you were entertained, thank you dearly for coming!”
Maria, after blowing a kiss; “Goodnight, everybody!”
END.
#kind of a long read even if lazy so be ready#Happy November Fools#might add other scribly drawings later just so it's not JUST the crappy base edits of (spoiler)
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Hello there 👋👀,
So I just found your blog and had a lot of fun scrolling through all the pjo show crit😂 I couldn't help but notice that one tag you left on a post where you said you had some beef with Annabeth's portrayal in the books 👀 Would you mind elaborating on that if you're comfortable with it🙈? Because I absolutely share that sentiment, but it's sooo veeeery rare that I see other people express anything like it... I've found that trying to be a part of the fandom can be pretty alienating most of the time, if you're not exactly the biggest most devoted Percabeth shipper...😅 And often any criticism leveled at Annabeth just gets you a smack with the "internalized-misogyny" hammer... it's even worse in the tv show now due to... obvious reasons...
Again just if you're comfortable with answering of course🙈 There is a reason I stayed on anon after all...😅😂
Really glad you asked because i finally get to ramble about this heheheh (going forward, know that i skimmed over The Last Olympian to have a clearer sense of what I meant because that's the book where Rick fumbles her character more than the others)
i'm gonna try to make as much sense as possible but short answer would be, she's underdeveloped. Long answer:
She really got on my nerves in the last two books, with the whole Rachel debacle and then the Battle of New York. I can't really remember a single moment in those books where she and Percy aren't bickering or having heated discussions, which really made me question their friendship status. Of course, it's not like friends can't fight and it obviously builds up the (romantic) tension between them, but it got unbearable at one point.
I understand she's a teenager in an incredibly stressful situation that didn't even get to have a normal upbringing- she grew up way too fast (run away at 7, head counselor at 12) while also not really maturing, which is not a problem for a character, if it is handled properly. Given the fact that I am writing this, Riordan did not.
On the surface, my biggest beef is that Annabeth is not exactly held accountable for her actions (ie. treating Rachel a bit like shit and going off on Percy for a bunch of stuff.) I know Percy is to blame a bit here: as far as we know, in TLO he basically cuts the greek world out of his life as much as he can as a coping mechanism. And while yes, he never apologizes either, he doesn't give her nearly half the hard time she gives him: always either giving him the cold shoulder (there must be at least one example of this in the entire series but i cant be bothered to look it up sorry) or starting an argument only to then storm off (see the "you're a coward, Percy Jackson!" scene, which is not the fairest example since she was confronting Percy about ignoring camp but also was a bit too harsh about it) (especially after finally reading the prophecy and being under the impression that he was absolutely going to die when he turned 16 lmao) or just straight up storming off (see, Annabeth reacting when Rachel shows up for the first time during the battle of new york). While most of these feel, at least to some degree, fairly justified given how the entire situation does an absolute number on her emotions, she comes off a bit brattish and like she's trying to rile Percy up, especially when it comes to Rachel, which in the context of a battle that could mean the destruction of the world.... Well, it reads as a bit childish to me, and i wouldn't exactly have that much of a problem with it if it was dealt with in some way (a two-way apology would be nice).
After that first impression, i realized that Annabeth is barely ever anything else other than a plot device (when relating to Luke) or a love interest (when relating to Percy). This might be because the books are on Percy's POV. Hell, on the third book he's even conflicted when Annabeth is considering joining the Hunters of Artemis, aka, when making a choice for herself would mean he loses her (which is fine and dandy but it feels like Percy is more upset about her choosing her own path rather than being sad about not seeing her as often); we really only get a few glimpses of her, as in, actually her when she's on her own.
Obviously it's impossible to talk about Annabeth without touching on percabeth, which also is, in my opinion, what hinders Annabeth's character the most. On paper they sound great. The guy whose fatal flaw is loyalty falls in love with a girl whose been let down by people over and over, and she decides to never give up on the boy whose always had people give up on him (can't find one of the million posts that talks about this right now but it always goes something like that) And yeah, the bickering is really well written! But that's literally as far as it ever goes: they don't ever seem to have fun together, because 8 times out of 10 the bickering ends up being passive aggressive, and mostly done by Annabeth. My biggest gripe about percabeth is that their friendship seems to be based off... shared trauma. Literally. Other than going on quests together we are given no examples of them hanging out, nor a reason why they would want to spend time together in the first place, not even a shared hobby. Yes, in the fourth book they had a movie "date" planned but of course they didn't even get to it, and surprise surprise, they had a minor discussion, and surprise surprise, Annabeth was passive aggressive again. It's hard to picture them having fun together when even the author doesn't write in any scenes in which they get along smoothly (and before you say anything, a scene in which they get along where neither of them is about to die, and they're not talking about previous adventures. Gets a bit hard then, doesn't it?) It's even harder to picture them as a couple when the moment she gets upset about something, she starts coming off as emotionally manipulative (see, again, literally any conversation with Rachel or about Rachel)
To be fair, the books are relatively short and don't allow many "filler" chapters, if you will; there's always something happening to keep the main plot or a minor plot point moving forward, but it's not like there is no room to develop the characters' relationships, especially when we're talking about the main char and what is essentially his endgame. As an example we have Percy and Clarisse, or Percy and Beckendorf. Their interactions are brief but still hold so much weight.
Worst of all, Annabeth could be one hell of a character; what's most interesting of all is how being a daughter of Athena she is still incredibly emotionally driven, which is displayed very clearly with her fatal flaw being pride: her telling the Sphynx that her questions were too easy was not smart nor strategic: it was completely impulsive. I seriously think she wasn't far from being the best character in the series had she been given more time.
I guess i have as much beef with Annabeth as i have with Rick for doing her dirty. I really could sum this up with: while her emotions are justified, she acts upon them quite poorly. And this is what i mean when i say she's underdeveloped, because it would've been nice to see her come to her senses a bit.
Would love to read anyone's opinions on her character though, feel free to comment, even (or especially) if you don't agree with me!
#pjo crit#anti percabeth#annabeth chase#percy jackson#tbotl#pjo tlo#the last olympian#percy jackson and the olympians#congrats anon on being my first ask!!!#sorry if it's too long or rambly i just have so many thoughts about her.#i dont hate her i dont even dislike her im just conflicted about her. sad that half of her conflict was being jealous over a boy#like yeah i guess said boy was the first real friend she ever had but also rick wrote it in a very “girls fighting over boy” kind of way#didn't really write it to make it seem like annabeth's reasons were anything more than just a hormonal teen acting out. there were no layer#sometimes i feel like im being unfair to annabeth and that maybe her being emotional and mean sometimes is her character and#she's actually written well and i just don't like her? but then i think over it and im not ready to give rick that kind of credit lmao#i truly believe he wrote her beef with rachel to entertain middle graders without really thinking twice about it#annabeth adds to the drama with her passive aggressive comments but at what cost.... maybe im reading too much into it idk#maybe i just find boy drama annoying..#but making it so that rachel is bound to maidenhood was such a lazy way to get rid of her as a romantic interest#the way rick butchered her character and any char dev for any of them in the tv show by rushing so many things... god. that's another story#if there are any typos i'll edit them later but my eyes are dry af right now and its late jdsjdfh anyway i hope my takes were interesting?#maybe i don't have that much beef with annabeth herself but the fact that percabeth is seen as the best endgame couple when i don't see it
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Not ridiculous at all | James Potter
Pairing: James Potter x fem!Reader
Word Count: 3.5k
Summary: You are part of the marauders, always having felt special when they called you part of the gang, but also consequently too embarrassed to admit to wanting to be more feminine, afraid that they would no longer deem you cool enough to hang out with you. You are hurt by James' comments and James might realise something when you're avoiding him.
Notes: Best friend!James, he's a bit stupid, Lily is a sweet friend, arguments, so maybe a little angsty, but not really, classic cliche tropes like friends to lovers, misunderstandings, pining (I literally just dreamt this so it's a bit patchy) and I know it's very stereotypical but that's why it's just fanfiction :)
(PS) I haven't written before, just wanted to get this out of my system. English is my third language, and this fic is not proofread because I'm way too lazy for that! Enjoy!
Part two Masterlist
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You've grown up with James Potter and have been part of the marauders since the very beginning. You always took 'being one of the guys' or 'part of the gang' as a compliment, it left you feeling giddy as if you were included in some secret group that only you had the privilege of belonging to.
But sometimes you would sit in the girls dormitory and despite your friends laughing and chatting about, you would feel a wave of loneliness wash over you. They often did activities together and by now, 6th year at Hogwarts, they've managed to stop asking you to join them as you've always dutifully replied that it 'wasn't your thing'.
I mean, what would the guys think of you? It would be too embarrassing to admit to them, or anyone for that matter, that you would love to be dolled up for once. To go shopping with your friends, be included in movie nights, asked by Alice if she could test some makeup on you, or read and gossip about the new romance novels that were the new hype.
Especially now when you sat on your bed, part of the circle in which they were discussing plans to go dress shopping.
"You should absolutely join us!" Alice squealed in delight. You were shaken out of your train of thoughts with a huh and realized the conversation had taken a turn somewhere and now included you too. Marlene and Lily nodded fervently in agreement but you bashfully shook your head.
"Nah, can you imagine me in a dress?" You joked, but Dorcas caught the curious and somewhat longing look in your eyes at the mention of getting ready for the Yule ball.
"I think you would look great actually. And besides, you can treat yourself too sometime you know. You're not obligated to stick with the marauders all the time." The girls in the dorm once again all agreed and you smiled at their kindness.
"Since when are you interested in things like the Yule ball?"
You snapped your head up at James to see his questioning eyes and then quickly averted your own in a flustered manner as if one of your greatest secrets had just been uncovered. "I just think it seems nice, that's all, I'm not even going or anything", you defended. You felt slightly embarrassed by James' face which wore a weirded out expression.
"Well you're not really the type to go to such an event anyway right?", James remarked. You did your best to hide your frown at his immediate agreement. Was it that bad that you'd hoped he would say something along the lines of 'what are you talking about, go enjoy yourself at the party' or something like that?
"Besides I can't imagine you in a dress, all made up, it'd just look so ridiculous." James continued. Remus, ever the sweet and attentive boy glanced at you and noticed your slightly sacked shoulders in disappointment at his words.
"I mean you're just not that type of person, you know? Like completely opposite of Lily."
And with that your face felt like it burned from embarrassment. As if you didn't already know. That didn't mean you didn't want to be more like her sometimes.
Peter's eyes flicked with concern from James to you and back.
You felt hurt and forced yourself to stop tears welling up at his words, mustering up a grin, ready to agree with him but were interrupted by Sirius who had now also caught your change in mood.
"Prongs, you really have no tact at all, how are you expecting to even win Evans over with that?" He said in a playful manner as to not offend their whipped friend, but not fully succeeding.
"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" James looked slightly offended and Remus jumped in the conversation.
"That's just not a nice thing to say. It's different if you call me an ugly toad, but not Y/N! If she wants to go to the Yule Ball all dolled up, she definitely should." He shot you a supportive smile which you returned.
Peter nodded in agreement. "I don't think you'd look ridiculous at all," he told you sincerely. You subtly scooted a little closer to him and Remus.
"But it's Y/N, it'd just look weird, cause she's just not a proper girl like that, no offense." James shot back and gave you a smile at the last two words.
You saw Remus opening his mouth to retort but quickly intervened. "He's right." You told them. You just wanted this conversation to be over with already. It was awkward and painful for you as it was.
James didn't seem to get the memo, however, and kept on going, drilling your confidence further into the ground.
"See, she agrees." He turned to you. "It's not like you're ugly or anything but it'd be ridiculous. Like I said, you're not the type to be all beautiful and dressed up, hair done and all. I mean you're cool, but not pretty like that." He was clearly not done yet and started talking about Lily and her beauty at which point you abruptly got up and left.
"What's gotten into her?" James remarked with a frown.
Sirius and Remus didn't even bother to answer and just stared at him in disbelief.
The girls comforted you as you cried. Marlene barged in with ice cream, stolen from the kitchen in one hand and 5 spoons in the other. "What a jerk." She commented and thrust a spoon in your hand before plopping down in front of you with the rest of your friends.
Lily sighed frustratedly. "See this is why I don't like him at all. He's so rude and arrogant, and he-"
"- is right." You answered dejectedly. "I'm your friend, but not the type to join you guys and belong to your circle."
"Well that's only because you hang around the boys all the time," Alice argued. She nudged you. "But you know what, now that James is being a git, you can hang out with us!"
Dorcas gasped dramatically. "We could do a girls night! Treat ourselves a little", she jumped up. "I'll get the face masks and nail polish!"
Lily let go of you too and told you to sit up. "Come on, let me do your hair," she smiled.
With Marlene feeding you ice cream, your nails being polished by Alice, hair done by Lily and Dorcas reading the latest romance novel out loud while you were all wearing a facemask, you couldn't help but feel all warm inside.
"I love you guys."
"Don't talk with your mouth full."
You laughed and pushed Marlene teasingly off the bed.
"Hey, watch it! I just finished your right hand." Alice complained.
James was a moron. He was kind hearted (to most), popular, captain of the Quidditch team, good looking but a moron nonetheless. So he was absolutely clueless to find you missing from the common room yesterday evening and even more clueless when you were missing from your usual spot next to him at the Gryffindor table in the great hall, because he could not for the life of him think of a reason why you would sit with Alice and Frank instead.
He frowned and felt uneasy at the fact that you hadn't even looked at him, let alone come for a hug with your smile and said 'good morning' like usual. He shook the thoughts away. You were obviously allowed to have your own friends as well and not obligated to spend all your time with him.
The door of the great hall behind him opened and Lily Evans walked in, which was why instead of walking up to you to say something, he habitually turned to Lily instead.
"You look beautiful this morning as usual. I could put in the effort to match you when we go out together?" He shot her a wink and a coy smile but faltered slightly when his attempts at flirting got even less of a reaction out of her than usual.
James turned to Sirius with a questioning look, as if to ask 'you noticed that too right?' but Sirius simply shrugged. When James looked back at Frank and Alice, you were gone, having left the moment you felt his stare.
James started to ponder. 'Were you avoiding him? Surely you wouldn't, right? You two were friends after all, childhood friends. Childhood best friends even, for Merlin's sake! If you were upset with him, you'd definitely let him know.'
A week passed with you, sitting on the opposite sides of the classroom, seemingly having picked partners long before class because how else would you team up with random students before James could even blink?
He had now fully accepted that you were avoiding him. And with that, he meant 'accepting the possibility of that occurrence'. He was by no means going to accept your strange new behavior without doing anything.
The last drop though, was when he heard the news from Peter that you'd already left for Hogsmeade with the girls.
He frowned. 'You were kind', he reasoned. If you were upset with him, then he'd have to apologize. Quickly. Because it's been far too long without his best friend and he realized he missed you. Especially seeing you hang out with others.
"What did I do?" He finally asked his remaining friends.
"Really Prongs?" Remus couldn't help but ask. His friend just gave him a look that said 'well go on then, what is it'.
"How about you think about what you said last week, you know, those rude comments about the Yule ball."
"Yeah, but I already apologized yesterday and told her that I didn't mean to offend her!" James flailed his arms around when he exclaimed it.
"But she's still only hanging out with anyone but me," he whined. "Peter studied with her, Pads got a 'good morning' this morning and you're still talking to eachother.
Remus gave him an unimpressed look at his whining but James was not done complaining yet.
"She keeps spending all her time with the girls while she doesn't even seem to be fully enjoying herself"
This was true. You dearly missed James, so despite your newfound hobbies, a look of sadness sometimes fell over your face, which hadn't escaped James' attention.
"And I just don't understand why she would-" He started but never finished, something dawning on him. "Oh of course! Merlin, I'm so stupid!" He shouted out in epiphany.
"Your words not mine," Sirius quickly took the opportunity.
"Oh bugger off Pads", James laughed and pushed Sirius' arm. And with that, he took off to find you.
Sirius and Remus watched him leave and sighed at the same time. "Do you really think he got it?"
"I bloody hope so, Moony."
"But it's James."
"Yeah, but I mean it's not my fight but even I realize that she's sad that James made fun of the idea of her being more girly when she secretly wants to be. Now she's trying out what she likes, without having to stay within the role of 'one of the guys'. I mean, it's pretty straightforward. I guess a genuine apology and show of support is the solution."
"But it's James."
"Yep, you're right."
Though he hadn't been able to find you, he'd waited patiently for your return in the common room. Staring at the ceiling from his laid back position on the couch.
"Oh there you are, Y/N," He rushed to sit up to face you when you entered the room. If you were surprised by his presence, you didn't show it.
"We need to talk, I wanted to apologize." He breathed out, relieved at himself for having figured it out. "Also, I've missed you so much."
You felt a weight fall off your shoulders. You didn't want to be upset with him and felt incredibly relieved to hear him say that.
"I'm sorry for the things I said. I didn't mean for you to get offended or anything," James began.
"Yeah, you already said that." You frowned. "And I remember I told you that that was not a proper apology."
"I know, I know. It was shitty of me so I wanted to apologize. Properly you know? I'm really really sorry. I was a terrible friend and shouldn't have said the things I said. Please forgive me?" He proceeded to give you Bambi eyes in an attempt to convince you. It unsurprisingly worked.
You softly smiled up at him. "Okay". You barely got the word out before he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.
"Great," he said, cutting through the comfortable silence that you two had been hugging in.
"Now you don't have to avoid me anymore, and you can stop sitting with the girls to prove your point, and join us again instead." He triumphantly continued.
What now?
You blanked. "I'm sorry?" You managed to ask.
"I get that I hurt you by saying your weren't a proper girl, but you don't have to pretend to prove your point by trying to be one." James stated, proud of himself that he figured it out.
"Because I can see that you don't like it, like your face gets all gloomy which is understandable because it isn't really your circle of people."
You stared at him, an incredulous look on your face.
"Fuck you James." You said, your voice coming out softer than you'd hoped. Tears were welling up again, but you couldn't help yourself.
"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I do want that to be my circle of people? That I don't just want to be one of the guys all the time? Is it that crazy to think that I'm still a girl with feelings? That I want to feel pretty too? That I don't like being told by my supposed best friend that I'm basically ugly? That I hate to be compared to other girls like that?"
You were ranting and James had taken a step back, surprised by your outburst.
"No, that's not what I-", James tried to salvage the situation but you weren't having it.
"You've told me that stuff for as long as I can remember and I never told you otherwise because I was scared that you'd no longer want to hang out with me for not being a 'chill friend'. But you know what, I no longer want you to."
At this point, you angrily wiped your eyes to get rid of tears that were threatening to spill. "So fuck you". With that, you brushed past him, escaping upstairs to your room.
James Fleamont Potter felt absolutely miserable.
If anyone told James that you'd ever be more on his mind than Lily, he would call them ridiculous. But here he was, another week had passed and he was staring at your back as you were leaving with your friends for Hogsmeade again.
You weren't wearing your school uniform and robes anymore and James was surprised to see you wearing one of what he knew to be Lily's dresses.
'It suited you more than it suited Lily.' The unwarranted thought flashed through his mind and he shook his head with a scoff to himself. What was going on?
James also noticed that your hair was brushed and shining with a butterfly clip holding your hair in a bun. He wondered when you decided to change your hairstyle because he found that it framed your face perfectly.
'Not ridiculous at all,' he understood.
You looked absolutely perfect.
You turned your face a little and James could feel his head reeling. Have you always been this glowing? Was he just simply missing you? He didn't even realize that he hadn't spared Lily a glance- until Sirius mentioned her while they were having a drink - and a strange feeling washed over him at the thought.
You were running from Filch.
'Fuck I shouldn't have studied after hours, curfew was probably hours ago," you cursed to yourself and took a sharp right turn. You were trying to reach the secret passage right behind the big statue on the fourth floor when you saw the hallway light up because of Filches torch.
Forcing your legs to move faster, you were suddenly grabbed by the wrist. A hand was clasped over your mouth and you felt a heavy cloth fall over you.
You recognised the person pressed to your back immediately and tried not to melt in his embrace as Filch walked straight past the two of you, covered in the invisibility cloak.
You could feel his breath against your temple. His hand had dropped from your mouth, instead draping across your stomach now to rest on your side. The other held out in front of you to create space under the cloak. You shifted a little and finally turned your head and lifted it to look at him and thank him but you were unable to say anything for a moment.
You simply admired him.
The proximity of the two of you in that intimate embrace had something fluttering in your stomach and you harshly jerked away in denial when your feelings hit you.
Oh no.
Now, all suddenly? What changed? Does it really take one random moment to flip your world upside down?
You rushed to push the invisibility cloak out of your way and then left without sparing James another glance.
James couldn't force his legs to move to run after you, still reeling from about the exact same epiphany that you'd just run away from. Your gaze, his fast beating heart and the urge he had felt to lean down for a kiss had confirmed his conflicted feelings of the past few days since he'd seen you leave for Hogsmeade.
The following morning, you'd had the chance to properly process the happenings of last night.
Your conclusion was that you felt guilty that you hadn't even expressed your gratitude. It was rude, you figured. Even if you were overwhelmed by the sudden wave of realization that came crashing down on you, it was rude.
So you pushed your confused feelings aside and marched up to him when you found him in the great hall.
"Thanks, I owe you." You awkwardly said, stopping at his spot at the Gryffindor table. All while absolutely not having forgotten about the fact that the last time you had said something to him, you'd flipped him off and told him to go fuck himself.
James was absolutely beaming. "Yeah you do, but no worries, I'll cash it in right away." This was his chance. He would make up for his behavior and act on his feelings right now.
"How about a date?"
There was a long silence. Your heart plummeted to the ground. Right. James. Lily. Lily and James.
"What am I a magician?" You finally managed to sarcastically retort. "I'm a convincing person but not a miracle worker." You pulled your hand through your hair as you looked around the great hall to see if you could spot Lily.
"Alright, I'll see what I can do." You forced a smile.
James, who had been mostly confused at your words, disregarded it completely in delight at your acceptance to go out with him, even if it seemed somewhat reluctant. Not that it would matter because he was going to prove what an amazing boyfriend he could be. If you'd accept him, of course.
He was grinning from ear to ear, which you mistook as excitement at the prospect of a potential date with Lily. So when you abruptly turned on your heels and marched over to Lily, James watched you confusedly.
And when he heard you try to talk Lily into going out with him, he wanted to crawl in a ditch and die. He stood there, frozen and recounting how you could've interpreted that wrongly.
You returned to him after a while with an apologetic smile. "Yeah sorry Prongs, she-"
"You", he blurted out.
You raised your eyebrows. "Me?" You repeated back.
"The date, I meant you. A-and me of course. Us, like you and me on a date. Together. I thought maybe Hogsmeade?" He managed to force the words out nervously.
There was a long silence and James' shoulders slumped a little. Even more when you finally answered.
"Uh, no?" You said in a questioning manner. James officially wanted to die now.
"You're sweet James, and I don't think you do it on purpose but you're not interested in me like that." You began, trying to convince not only James, but yourself as well.
James opened his mouth to argue but you quickly interrupted him before he could properly do so.
"James, you really don't. And you asking me out on a date when you've quite literally been drooling over Lily just last week as you have been doing for the past 5 years, that's not very nice to me." You frowned.
"Oh." He whispered. He was once again at a lack of words for a moment. Terrible new habit, he thought. This was not how he thought it would go.
"I'd still gladly go with you to Hogsmeade though?" You offered. "Just you know, not as an easy second choice date while you are obviously head over heels with her."
'I'm not', he wanted to tell you, but it was obvious that you wouldn't believe him. "Yeah okay," he weakly smiled. "Just the two of us though."
You nodded and stepped forward, wrapped your arms around him and he leaned into you, returning the hug.
With his face pressed in your hair, eyes closed, he decided that this situation wasn't too bad. He's fought for Lily's affection for years. He'd fight harder for yours.
Part two
#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x reader#james potter imagine#marauders era#marauders#james potter x you#james potter x y/n#james potter fluff#james potter angst#james potter fic
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I've Found Home
Fem!Yuu and Twisted Cast
(Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8)
Implied relationship
She moved on. She had to and had every reason to. She had someone who relied on her.
Warnings:hurt-comfort, Angst to heal your soul. Healing those and abandonment issues. Happy ending I promise. Don't read if you are not ready to cry. Did not proof read, wrote this late a night, sick and half asleep. Sorry.
Move on.
Forget.
There was no going back.
You chose this.
You wanted this.
After three years of living in another world Yuu couldn't adjust easily to her old life.
A life that no longer exists. So she began building a new one.
She found a good price on a place near the mountains. Private but not isolated. She had the money after her book deal.
People would never believe her story so she wrote fantasy novels. She felt closer to her friends this way but more lonely all the same. She couldn't share the truth with anyone and could never talk about them as though they were real.
Still, she could write new stories with new characters to forget.
Life had been quiet. Eat, sleep, write, watch TV, read and do it all again. Sometimes getting food deliveries, read fan mail and get a call to two. It was decent life. Something Idia would love.
He's probably taken over STYX by now. I bet he and Ortho are doing great together.
Nevermind, she could probably cook something. Eating instant meals was probably ruining her health. Vil would kill her if he knew.
...
Food can wait. She wasn't that hungry anyways.
The garden! Yes! She had to tend the garden! She had ordered a spring bundle to plant.
The tag said it had some tulips, mums, begonias, and specialty white roses.
Nevermind... forget it. She should take a nap. A lazy day never hurt anyone. Even beasts can afford to sleep.
...
...
...
Yuu decided to leave. She couldn't take this anymore. If she got one more reminder she'd collapse. Their faces were ingrained in her mind and guilt burned under her skin.
Life was funny you know. You don't know what come next.
Yuu certainly didn't.
She hiked up the mountain trying to forget every time Jade would drag her to go foraging with him. Every late-night walk she had with Malleus. Every magic carpet ride with Kalim.
It wasn't fair! Why did she have to go through this? She wanted to see them again. What did she do to deserve this?
She was good! She was kind! She just wanted to go home! Is that so wrong? She worked hard! She made a name for herself! She should have the life she wanted and be able to enjoy that life.
But she missed them...
Unknowingly Yuu had dropped to her knees and crying. Only the forest could hear her and perhaps it took pity on her.
(Warning: If you are sensitive to child abuse or dead animals please don't read on.)
When her tears were gone and her cries faded there was a response.
A different cry. High pitched and gurgling. The kind that every woman knew in an odd instinctual way. The kind that sets off every alarm in your head and makes every hair stand on end. A baby.
She ran towards it praying to God that this wasn't a mountain lion. It wasn't though.
She found a small shack off the path. It was surrounded by trash. Must have been occupied by squatters. Said squatters seemed to have vacated at least a few days ago.
Yuu muscled open the makeshift door. The crying had turned into unfamiliar cracking breathless howls. Their voice must have given out a while ago after who knows how long. Hours, days...any longer would mean death.
Yuu searched and found a bunker of sorts under the floorboards.
She found a soggy bare mattress, a few scattered crayons, a ball and-oh God, that smell. It was a rotting cat. Poor thing must have been here for weeks. There was an empty cat food bowl nearby. Little drawings littered the floor. Ones of a smiling child with a smiling cat.
The whimpering cries continued and drew Yuu forward. She found them curled up in a corner. A rope was tied around their leg. It was a child. They were wrapped in soiled clothes, had matted hair, and emaciated.
Yuu felt her heart break again. This poor baby. Who could do this.
He looked at her with fear and hope. He wanted-no needed to be saved. He was probably no older than 3. He had no understanding of what was happening to him. His tears had marked his face as the only place was covered in a layer of dirt.
"Hey, is okay I'm here to help. I'm going to take you away now. Is that okay? We'll get you some food." Yuu tried to keep her voice even to not scare him.
The boy crawled over to the place of the dead cat. And began shaking it.
"Nina!Nina!" He wailed trying to wake her up.
He didn't know she was dead. He didn't even understand what death was.
"I'm sorry Nina can't come with us." Yuu said pulling him gently by the back of his ragged shirt.
But children don't understand these things.
"Nina! No! Nina!" He yelled horsey.
"Shh, it's okay. Don't worry I'll come back for her later. I promise." Yuu hushed.
She could bury her in the garden. He clearly loved her a lot and the poor kitty deserves that much.
After untying the rope Yuu lifted the boy into her arms and carried him home. He made almost no noise as he buried himself in her arms.
Yuu promised herself that she'd never let something like this happen to him again. He would never be abandoned again, he'd never go hungry again, and he'd be loved. She'd love him, she swore it.
"My son." She whispered to no one at all but I affirmed everything she felt.
He needed a name. The case worker didn't have one for him on file. She got to choose one.
For a writer she struggled to find one.
Mal, Elliot, Leo, Cecil, Bishop, Ali, Jacob, Carter, Azure, Jess
Only one name stuck
Grimm
"Grimm! It time for bed. Grab a book if you want me to read it to you." Yuu said walking up the stairs.
Grimm scanned his bookshelf for one of his favorites. The titles were: "The Rose Queen", "The King of Beasts", "The Wishing Star", "The sea witch", "The Sand Serpent", "The fairy Gala", "The Little Robot", "Magic Cat", "The beautiful Queen", and "The Underworld and back again"
Grimm had a favorite right now. The newest among the children's book collection Yuu had written. She pulled it off the shelf and ran back to bed.
Yuu could barely keep up these days. Grimm was fast but Yuu had practice.
She pulled the covers over him and read the title as Grimm snuggled up with his favorite stuffed animal. It was another merchandise stuffed animal. It was a big gray cat with a stripped bow and purple crystal around its neck.
Grimm named it Nina and took it everywhere. Along as it comforted him Yuu said nothing.
"The Lonely Dragon: Once upon a time there was a powerful dragon prince who lived in a land far far away." Yuu began.
"But the dragon isn't lonely forever. He meets the lost princess and they become best friends! Oh and the Silver knight comes in stop the dragon here!" Grimm interrupted leaning over his mother.
" Well if you want to tell the story." Yuu sighed.
When Yuu finished Grimm asked her something.
"So the dragon isn't lonely anymore?" He looked at her with wide eyes.
"No, he has many friends and rules over a nice kingdom," Yuu said in a hushed voice as shifted his pillow to make him lie down.
"What about the lost princess?"
"The lost princess found her way home. She said goodbye to her friends and is where she belongs now."
"But is she lonely? Without all her friends?"
"She used to be but now she has a home. She misses her friends but she's happy."
"I wish I could meet her. I'd be her friend and she'd never be lonely again."
"I know, I'd bet she'd be so happy. Goodnight, baby."Yuu turned off the light as she kissed Grimm's cheek
"Night Mama." Grimm said kissing his mother back.
When Yuu left the room she kept the door open just a bit so Grimm wouldn't be afraid of the dark.
She took a deep breath. Maybe she shouldn't have written the Lost Princess series but it was so well loved these days what could she do?
Still, she could relive those days for just a brief moment and smile.
She made her way to the study to go back to writing her new book when a knock came from downstairs.
Yuu cautiously made her way to the door and pressed an ear to it to listen to who it might be. Forgetting she had a peephole. A familiar voice called her name from the other side.
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland yuu#twst yuu#azul ashengrotto#vil schoenheit#leona kingscholar#malleus draconia#malleus x reader#riddle rosehearts#idia shroud#kalim al asim#jamil viper#twisted wonderland grim#vil shoenheit x reader#riddle rosehearts x reader#leona kingsholar x reader#idia shroud x reader#kalim x reader#jamil viper x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#Spotify
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thinking about shinso who finds himself in love with you so suddenly. gn!reader, established relationship (hinted at it being new-ish)
one would assume someone like him would take his time easing into falling in love— he seemed like the type to take the stairs instead, taking care to dip his toes into it before he fully commits to the dive. hell, he thought so too.
then again, he never really could be sure about the way his heart worked when it came to you.
your head rests against his shoulder as lazy conversation drifts through his bedroom. you try to hang onto every single word you exchange, but you can't help how your eyelids droop so heavily, as if carrying the weight of the world.
it doesn't help just how comfortable his bed is.
“y/n? are you listening?” his voice sounds like liquid gold, so attractive in how effortlessly smooth it is. you force your eyes open, humming as if you were listening.
shinso's head is turned to look down at you and it's then that he notices just how tired you are. it's been a long day and he'd missed talking to you and hearing the sound of your voice, but he hadn't realised just how heavy the exhaustion weighed on you.
“why didn't you say you were tired, hm?”
your yawn is wide and long— so very cute to him— and you blink slowly up at him. “‘missed you, ‘toshi. i wanted to hear all you had to say— sleep can wait a bit.” your words are slightly slurred, but there's something about them that makes him feel so touched.
“well, clearly it can't.” his grin is lazy, and your lips do their best to pull back in an equally lazy smile. even with the heavy lidding of your eyes, you look at him in a way that still has him jittery— the kind of jittery that threatens to jump out of his chest and sing like every love story does.
“no no no no no, it can. keep talkin’, pretty boy— i’m listenin’.” the ‘pretty boy’ has the jitters coming in stronger, and he laughs— the light sort of laugh that suits soft moments like this.
“the ‘pretty boy’ will talk again tomorrow— now, let's sleep.” you don't have it in you to protest— nor do you want to, with the way your body feels ready to collapse.
it doesn't take very long for the two of you to settle comfortably under the sheets, and shinso just can't take his eyes off of you. with heavy eyelids and slurred words, you seem drunk off something and it amuses him.
the two of you face each other, and the purple of his eyes is almost hypnotising in how it traces over you. framed by deep eyebags, you don't think you've seen prettier eyes in all your life.
“g'night, ‘toshi. pretty pretty ‘toshi with the pretty eyes,” you giggle a little at your words, and the way you gaze at him has his heart thumping in a heavier manner than he's used to.
“sleep well, babe,” is all he can muster— his mind is too preoccupied with the beauty of you to say anything else. dear lord, you make him so very nervous.
shinso stays awake while you give way to sleep, trying to understand the strangeness in his heartbeat, the wonder swimming in his veins and the content pooling into his stomach. he's never called it what it is before— but tonight has made him aware that he just might start doing exactly that.
there wasn't anything better to call it, anyway— ‘love’ has never fitted a singular person so well before.
✧ — thank you for reading !! rbs and feedback are greatly appreciated <3
taglist (fill in this form to join!!) :: @maeby-cursed @katsukismrs @himikoslove @afairywithacrown @pasteldaze
#— signed ⋆·ʚ⁺#idk what this is either#shinso x reader#shinsou x reader#mha shinso x reader#mha shinso hitoshi#hitoshi shinso x reader#mha x reader#bnha x reader#mha fluff#mha shinsou#mha drabbles
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hi! s10 is so fun so enjoy it when you start it! can i request a daryl smut of any kind?
Before We Leave
Synopsis: Here’s one about you sitting all sweet on Daryl’s lap because I have not stopped thinking about him holding you in his arms and giving you all the kisses after reading this headcanon! ♡
Details: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader, set during the period between seasons 8-9, kissing, smut—grinding, thigh riding, fingering, making a mess when you have places to go (such sillies). Mostly proofread. Feel free to give feedback!
A/N: It’s been a minute, guys, I know :( and to ava, so sorry for the wait ♡ I hope you like this and I can’t wait to get to season 10 too!! And know that I definitely still have your initial request in mind for later on!!
First, you noticed his hair: ever so endearingly disheveled, the waves falling so effortlessly as they did in their shaggy way; and then you noticed his skin— it shined. Normally, this would have been because of work and sweat from the late spring heat, but he was clean, he had showered today. He even changed his clothes, and surprisingly, his light beard was trimmed, his face was washed too– it illuminated with his small lazy smile that appeared as you came through the door. He looked so nice and ready to go. Your handsome man. He was waiting for you.
He wore a dark blue long-sleeve, the buttons at the start undone, exposing the top of his chest as he always preferred. And his sleeves, only just big enough to be slightly loose around his arms; they were rolled up at the forearms. It looked good. Though the better fit was his equally loose vest that was layered on top. Seeing it reminded you of how much you missed it. It took him so long to get it back from Dwight. It’s only now that you’re realizing how it fits again, how well it suits him. It’s not that he needed it of course, but you did love how it completed every outfit he wore, making it just so him.
In fact, everything about him was so, so—
“Hey,” he calls to you, his voice itself a finger snap to your attention, “you alright there?”
“Yeah,” you respond, meeting his eyes as you pathetically try to joke, “Just can’t think of the last time I actually saw you sit. We’re always… fighting or doing something aren’t we?”
“Mmhm.” He smiles inwardly. Your staring was nothing short of obvious, and you both know it: You were leaning against the door frame, eyes wide and lingering, trailing over him as he sat on your desk chair. But to him it was sweet, honestly. Almost humorous to see. It was nice to see you smile over nothing other than looking at dumb old him, or at least that's what he assumes of himself. He should know better by now than to think like that, but it's still just his way sometimes. You were in love with him though, and he loved you; and you liked looking at his dumb old face, and he knew that. That's why he doesn’t mind your gazing. That’s why he says, “C’mon,” patting his lap, knowing you wanted to come closer; his eyes catching how much yours went lower and lower, changing from innocent peerings to just a little something else, something more.
You’re hesitant at his invitation, but smiling like a kid. It's true you couldn’t help how good his thighs looked and how good the fingers that splayed over them were— rough and thick— their feeling on your skin taking you back to the past— but his noticing… Well, it just makes you blush. It makes you take slow footsteps, one in front of the other as you come closer to him, bashful and snickering. Once you’re near enough he holds you by the hips and you skip to meet his movements towards him. He turns your backside to him on the right side of the chair and sits you down, horizontal from his forward figure.
“Silly,” he calls you, flicking your nose as he taunts. It’s gentle and harmless even in his typical, slightly grumbled tone.
You wrap your arms around his shoulders, your wrists and hands curling at his neck, your side pressed into him. He feels bigger when you’re in his arms like this. As if he can comfort you or sheild you from anyone or anything— and you know he could. So safe is what you feel with him; the sigh you let out proves it. The fighting may have finished almost a year ago now, but moments like this are truly what feels like peace. And with that, your mind drifts backwards again. Realizing how you don’t remember the last time you’ve sat like this. With him. Just holding you.
One of his hands holds your thigh while the other grounds you by the lower waist, nearing your hip. You turn your face to his, raising a hand, parting some of the hair in front of his forehead, holding his jaw and you kiss him. You put your tongue between his lips. It’s quick but tender. There is a tiny trail of spit between you two as you let go. Tilting your head, you look at him with an already happy and dazed little smile. You don’t remember the last time you got a good look at him either. And you’re not talking about any of the times you’ve looked at him while simply talking or standing by him, that was almost all the time; but for so long standing next to each other was to cover one another in a fight, kill a walker, but this— this was simply because you wanted to, because he was yours, and you loved him, and you could.
He goes in to meet your lips first this time, holding you by the neck and jaw with one hand, and the other is at your back making you lean in closer. You give in to him, let him take the lead. Your feet curl under the chair and you smile into his indefinite kisses. It makes you accidentally nip at his lower lip which turns into him intentionally biting your lip thereafter. It’s just a bit harder, but he might have done it a tad more sharply than he intended.
“Ow,” you hiss, hushed and soft between breaths, but he’s already soothing the area at the corner there, giving you a lick and little pecks before returning to what he was doing before: kissing you and kissing you.
“You’re fine,” he tells you dryly in between.
Your hands lowers to his chest, feeling his collarbones, then down to his heart. Your fingers rest on the exposed skin there, then trailing lower, ghosting over the closed buttons. You want to, but maybe you shouldn’t. It wasn’t exactly the time.
Originally, you had come home to shower and change: Everyone was having dinner together at Rick and Michonne’s tonight, the first time in a long time. In fact, it was Judith who requested it; she said specifically how much she wanted all of her friends to be there. And you couldn’t disappoint the sweet girl who gave you a construction paper and crayon written invitation, asking you to promise Uncle Daryl would come. The ticket was for both of you, a little picture of you two holding hands at the bottom. ‘Pretty smile you,’ and ‘grumpy pants him,’ she explained.
It was hilariously perfect and it made your heart leap. You and Micchone laughed for a whole minute about it and you hugged Judith immediately after.
Though you couldn’t believe that she could possibly think Daryl wouldn’t come. Of course he’d do anything for her, and you would too, so just as much, ‘Of course,’ you told her, ‘We’ll even be there 10 minutes early so we can pick seats next to you,’ you had said.
But now you’re here, in such a cliche you’d roll your eyes at if you weren’t so in the moment, with Daryl touching up your leg and you allowing it. For once, you’re the one all dirty in your work clothes. And the longer you kiss him, and the longer he holds you on his lap, the more you feel it; the want, the need. You’re getting restless and you’re struggling to weigh the options in your mind.
You lived in Alexandria, helping Rick, Micchone, Rosita… And Daryl, he was sent off to head reconstruction at the Sanctuary: you two don't get to see each other as often as you’d like.
And the Sanctuary wasn’t a place you particularly liked visiting anyways, especially not at first, and he didn’t blame you. But you had still talked to him about trying it, staying there. Maybe a week, maybe longer, maybe seeing if someone else can take over your Alexandria responsibilities, but honestly, he didn’t want you there either. He didn’t even want to be there. Every week that went by was another step closer to talking to Rick about leaving.
Still, moments like this are when you wonder about asking again, if you should be the one to finally move instead… The thought fades as Daryl now groans slightly into your mouth, you had pushed yourself down on his groin which elicited the dark sound, and you moan into him in response. Your hand gripping tightly to his bicep and his digs into your side, holding you tight— you’re losing the ability to think.
His tongue is twisting with yours, and his hand goes lower on your hip, the other deeper into your hair. You’re starting to have a heat pool at your center and you're squeezing your thighs together.
Daryl can sense it and feel all of it: the indecision, the squirming– your feet shuffling and curling against each other, your legs slowly swinging up and under the chair as you do so, as your continue to melt into his lips.
And he does feel it too, though he’s better at not showing it, but you do start to feel him shifting underneath you. An erection starts to harden as your hand goes lower on his chest and the little sounds of you humming into his mouth become more sexy, more desiring, than simply sweet as you continue.
He lets go, slipping his fingers between your knees, “We don’t gotta do too much.”
This makes you laugh. You’re still looking at him all dopey eyed, and more than slightly needy despite your words terribly trying to fight it, “What’s just enough then?”
His hand moves up along your inner thighs as an answer. His fingers trail up until they reach the center, and press into you at the inseam of your jeans. You start to buck up to his movements just as they begin. You even put your own hand over his, pressing into yourself more, your head tilting back. You bite your lip, whining lightly.
“Like that?” He asks, your neediness surprising the both of you.
“Last time I saw you was last week— for a day,” you’re speaking between light, out of breath pants, “outside- scavenging- no time.” Leaning forward into his touch, pretty sounds trail out, “-uh, mmm.”
You continue to grind against his hand harder, adding your other hand on top of his for more pressure until he says, “Get up.”
You stand, starting to undo your jeans and Daryl pushes the back of your chair further against your desk and starts to unbuckle his belt, but right before he finishes, you stop him. You grab his hands, “Wait,” you tell him, slipping off your shoes, and discarding your pants until you sit down again, straddling his lap.
There was something about the way you could see the outline of his bulge by how his pants laid on him, and the nice friction you knew the jeans would cause underneath you that felt so enticing. And more importantly, his bulge looked huge, fat even, you wanted to sit yourself perfectly right on top of it, making sure you could feel it all squish deliciously into your pussy lips with only your thin underwear covering you.
You begin to rock, pushing down against him. Your tiptoes reach the ground, helping you dig in and your hands go to grab onto his shoulders. Daryl holds your hips, thumbs pressing into your back, helping to roll your body into his.
His legs shift beneath you and it makes you think about his thighs again. How yummy they would feel just like his bulge…You have a little bit of time, right? Never mind- you’ll do it fast.
You get up once more, now placing yourself on his left thigh and you start rocking against him again.
Daryl quietly lets you, his hands go under your shirt and you let him take it off, leaving you in only your underwear while he’s fully clothed. He doesn’t mind letting you do what you want right now, he’s enjoying it. Grunting lowly, loving how he can watch you in your blissed out state: your open mouth, your sloppy humping and riding, how you're whining and panting as he touches up your stomach, how you’re so needy that you take one of his hands higher to caress your breast. He licks his teeth, “Need it bad, huh?” He tenses his quad, applying pressure so perfectly, just as you’d been thinking about for days. “Huh, sweetheart?”
“Think about you everyday, Daryl.” You sound just a bit too pathetic, but he eats it up, a small wicked grin coming to his face just looking at how much you wanted him. Not only thinking about his cock stuffed in you, but even how you wanted his thighs too? Just him in general? His poor girl, so deprived of him. He hated being apart, but fuck did he love how desperate it made you when he visited, desperate for him, desperate for him to give it to you or let you have it in any way. It gave him ideas of what he would do to you after you got back from dinner.
Your knee is centered in the middle of his thighs, pushing against his groin with each roll of your pelvis and the rock of Daryl’s hands as he pushes your hips forward, both helping you reach that point of pure bliss, going hard and deep, while giving him just a bit a release from the tension he feels because of you.
You close your eyes, head tilting up to the side lightly, mouth agape. “Ah, mm-” Your frustrated sounds then turn into you sighing so light, so sweetly, “I missed you.”
His hand reaches the side of your face briefly, rolling over your hair and cheek, “Missed you too.”
You knew your underwear was more than damp at this point, but you hoped the dark denim of his pants would mean it wouldn’t be that bad. You were lying to yourself honestly, but you did have wipes anyway, and… Was it bad to say you wanted to soak his jeans? For him to see the mess you made? Remember how big of a spot you created for later? There was no mistake, he had to spend the night. Having dinner in Alexandria made it so that it was too late for him to go back to the Sancutary afterwards. You wondered what he’d do to you later, what you’d let him do. He did miss you, he said it himself after all. And you feel his stare on your lower stomach as you continue to roll yourself on him, as he watches your clothed pussy make a mess of his jeans. And he sees the way his unintentional grunts and slight growls to the sight of you make your head tilt back, mouth opened so wide like you were already preparing to suck him off.
Your eyes are closed, your open mouth allowing a string of “ahs,” to come out as you continue to rub yourself against his muscle, wiggling a little, back and forth, going in a circle for a second to get more attention onto your clit, feeling yourself get wetter and wetter from your boyfriend’s big, and thick thigh. Your knee digs into him harder and he uses one hand to push it against him more.
After he lets go, one of his hands slips into your underwear, placing his middle finger over your clit, rubbing fast circles into it as much as he can as you continue to rock down on both thigh and fingers now. The extra friction feels so good. You’re whining, your panting, holding onto his shoulder with one hand, the other hand grabbing onto your desk, trying to stabilize yourself as you attempt to go faster, your movements becoming more erratic. “Daryl, please,” you whine, “help me.”
He places his free hand on your ass, kneading it forward and his other hand tries its best to circle into your pussy as much as it can.
As his middle finger continues to circle your clit, his two other fingers push into either side of your labia. “Go on,” he encourages, “Already made a mess. Make it bigger.” He moves his hand to your hip again, pushing you down. “You got it.”
Then he starts bouncing his leg, you bounce along with him, trying to rock as hard as you can. You start moaning louder, it’s continuous, you’re getting closer, you see yellow white light behind your eyes as a release takes over you, it’s hot and you can barely breathe, you almost wail as you coat his hands, ruining your panties, soaking his jeans. It felt amazing.
You huff out heavily now, finally opening your eyes to see Daryl take his hand from beneath you, licking his fingers clean. Wet popping sounds come out after he sucks each one, looking you directly in the eye. “Mmm.”
You blush gingerly at him. Getting up you see the large wer spot on his pant leg. It wasn’t a circle, it was ovular, taking up half the area of his thigh. Your teeth clench, you thought it would be big, but… you didn’t know it would be that big. This wasn’t something you could quickly clean off. “I guess it’s a good thing you keep your extra clothes here?”
He keeps his face straight, he figured as much would happen, but it was fun to see you squirm. “These were my extra clothes.”
“Oh.”
You should have let him take his pants off.
#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon x reader smut#daryl dixon x fem!reader#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon x you#wonders with writella#wonders with daryl#the walking dead fanfiction#the walking dead smut#twd smut#twd fic#twd fanfiction#daryl dixon x female reader smut
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Always Ever Only You Part 21 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: You keep yourself as busy as you can with your friends while your husband is away. Bradley starts to learn that this top secret special mission comes with a very specific set of risks and very few details. But the details he does have make it clear that he's never faced anything like this before.
Warnings: Swearing, angst, masturbation, fluff, mentions of hostages
Length: 6000 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32
You sat in the driver's seat of the Bronco until Bradley's transport was completely out of sight, and you were just squinting into the brightening sky. It was getting late, and you needed to head to work, but the weird mix of emotions inside you was making it hard to even reach for the keys in the ignition and start the engine.
Bradley was excited about his mission; you knew that for a fact. He couldn't hide it from you when he talked about it, and you wouldn't even want him to. If this is what it was going to take for him to get back into a confident groove at work, then you were happy to send him off into the sky. But it was still impossible not to worry about him.
You made the trip back home and got yourself dressed in your uniform after you took Tylenol for your cramps. You kissed Tramp and said, "When I get home later, we can watch a movie." Then you took your little red car to work and walked up to your office.
While Bradley was away, you planned on using this time to catch up with your friends a little bit more. Maria and Cam were the best kinds of friends who could just tell when you needed to focus on your marriage instead of them, but you were really missing those lazy brunches and avocado toast. But Jake was the one you really wanted to have lunch with.
"Sorry, Cat," you murmured to yourself as you walked to the lab. You were ready to force Jake to sit down with you and you alone one day this week, even if that meant asking her nicely to sit at a different table. You still had in the back of your mind the fact that he had other women texting his phone, and you wanted to know what that was all about.
Cat was the first person you saw when you entered your lab, and while you wanted to talk to her, she was wearing the expensive headphones with her eyes glued to her computer screen, and you knew better than to interrupt. So you waited and texted Jake to see if he was going to be on the ground at lunchtime today. But as soon as Cat removed her headphones, you were there.
"Hey," you said, and she jumped a bit in her seat.
"Hi," she replied, eyeing you a little suspiciously. "It's pretty early on a Monday morning to be scaring people."
You took a deep breath. "Sorry. Bradley left a few hours ago, and I'm still riding the adrenaline rush."
Her face softened. "That's right. Any idea how long he'll be gone?"
"No clue. But I can already tell he's going to miss his birthday, which is now my favorite day of the year."
She laughed. "That's sweet. Jeremiah's birthday is my favorite day."
You paused and studied her face. "And Jake's birthday? You like that day, too?"
She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "Seeing as that's not until October, I haven't had a chance to experience that with him yet."
You wrung your hands together. "Do you think you and he will be experiencing it? Together?"
Cat stood and shook her head at you. "If you're trying to ask me what's going on with Jake, then just ask me what's going on with Jake. You and I can't cut the bullshit with each other now."
You felt your cheeks grow warm as you asked, "Did you ask him about the text messages?"
"Yes," she replied immediately. "At first he pretended not to know what I was talking about, and I promptly grabbed my bag and walked out his front door."
"No," you gasped, your hands curling into angry fists. "He didn't."
"He did," she said calmly, nodding. "I made it all the way out to Uncle Bernie's SUV before he chased me down. I told him to remember that I'm not some twenty one year old he met at the bar, and he told me he's an idiot. So I left."
"When was this?" you asked, completely shocked by Jake.
"Saturday night." Cat was as calm as anything, and you kind of envied her for it.
"What are you going to do?"
She shrugged, and you saw the facade crack the tiniest bit. "Jer is already attached to him. So... that sucks, I guess. I haven't answered Jake's calls, and I haven't decided if I will or not. I needed time to think. I'm honestly a little surprised and annoyed that he isn't in here right now looking for me." Her expression just seemed sad now, and you really wanted to hug her. But Bickel walked in looking for Macy so you decided to just accost Jake yourself when you saw him.
The opportunity arose at lunchtime. "Seresin!" you called out once you had your burrito bowl and hot sauce in your hands. He turned around cautiously as you stormed in his direction. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
He smirked. "You'll need to be more specific, Angel."
You glared. "Cut the shit and give me your phone." You set your lunch on an empty table before taking his sandwich container out of his hand. You held out your palm expectantly, and a few seconds later, he handed it to you. When you unlocked his phone and opened his messaging app, you were appalled. Most of the texts were from random numbers, and at least he hadn't responded to any of them, but you were still annoyed. "Why didn't you delete any of these messages?"
Now he was kind of in your face as he hissed, "What's the fucking point? It's not going to make them stop. It'll just make me feel worse when I get more."
You held up his phone. "One girl texted asking if you could come over at three in the morning. Three in the morning, Jake!"
"I know," he said, wrenching his phone back out of your hand. "It was when I was asleep in bed with Cat at Hondo's place. I snuck in the window around midnight just so I could see her, and I read the message when I woke up. It made me want to vomit."
"Well how do you think Cat feels?!" you replied in an outraged whisper.
"Probably like an idiot," he said with a shrug. "But I'm not doing anything behind her back."
You sighed deeply. "I think she knows that, but you need to make it stop."
"I literally emailed your husband on Sunday night for advice," Jake said, plopping down into a seat at the table and running his fingers through his hair. "He managed to pull you, so he's got to know what he's doing and how I can fix this."
You rolled your eyes and took the seat across from him. "Well if he writes back, take it with a grain of salt. Bradley hardly gives his phone number out to anyone."
"He did write back. He told me after you and he traded numbers, he blocked and deleted everyone else's."
A soft smile found its way to your lips as you thought about Bradley holding his phone the night after you and he first kissed. The idea of him deleting other numbers while he was texting you made butterflies erupt inside you. "Well, you could try doing that," you told Jake. "Either that or get a new phone number. I think that would send the right signal to Cat. If you're still serious."
Jake poked at his sandwich for a few seconds with a scowl on his face, and then he stood, sending the chair screeching a few feet behind him. You watched him walk out of the cafeteria, and when he didn't return, you ate his sandwich and saved your burrito bowl for your dinner instead. You'd eat it at home while you emailed the photographer in Oceanside.
---------------------------
Bradley was usually able to get some sleep on the comanche transports, but this time it was too loud and uncomfortable, even with his earplugs. Exhaustion was finally overtaking him as they started to near the US base in South Korea. A nervous energy was thrumming through him. But he did feel more confident knowing that Cyclone and Warlock were running the mission this time, and while he didn't know many of the other aviators personally, he'd heard of all of them. The fact that several of them had been called in from the Atlantic fleet was a little bit alarming and also intriguing to him.
He quickly learned that the woman sitting across from him was Daphne 'Bluebird' Blue from Lemoore, the pilot he'd filled in for once previously when she'd been injured in a training exercise. Of course that was the same mission Bradley had been lucky to return home from outside of a body bag. Countless stitches, broken bones and lacerations later, you'd nursed him back to health. He wondered briefly if something similar would have happened to Bluebird if she'd flown instead of him. Maybe they were both alive today simply because Bradley had gone in her place.
The current mission felt like a way for him to bring his confidence fully back. As he walked out of the comanche and then right into a smaller helicopter that was waiting to take them to the aircraft carrier, Bradley ended up sitting next to Bluebird this time. He knew there would be time to meet everyone aboard the carrier, but she had a friendly demeanor. He really wasn't here to make friends though, so he closed his eyes, and luckily this time he was able to fall asleep.
"Rooster." He woke up to Bluebird shaking his arm. "Wake up."
He'd been having the most incredible dream about you, one where you were standing in the backyard singing really badly. Tramp was running around in excited circles and the sun was shining, and when he called out your name, you turned to face him. And you had an adorable baby in your arms. When he looked up at Bluebird with her hand on his arm, he was almost confused.
"We're on the carrier," she informed him, patting his shoulder before walking out the back of the helicopter. He was alone now, and it was almost quiet, so he took a minute to let his head rest on the nylon netting behind him. The dream felt real to the point that being on the carrier felt foreign now. He rubbed his hands across his face and stood, looking around for his duffle before he walked outside.
Cyclone was handing out bunk assignments, and thanks to Bluebird, there was an uneven number of males. Bradley got his own bunk. "Get some food, and get some rest," Warlock told the group. "We'll meet tomorrow morning at 0900 to start talking about some mission options."
Bradley's brow scrunched as he followed the labyrinth of hallways in search of his bunk. That was such an odd way to phrase it: start talking about some mission options. It struck him that perhaps he was finally, officially sitting at the proverbial big kids' table. But now he was also a little afraid of exactly what was going to unfold here.
He quickly unpacked his bag and reached for his new notebook, deciding to forego dinner in favor of some quiet and a bigger breakfast in the morning. His thoughts were swirling. He scribbled down a paragraph about Admiral Dean and Slayer, trying to empty his brain of everything negative. He wrote down his feelings about the current mission, and then he paused.
As he glanced over the page, he realized this notebook wasn't going to be quite like the last one. While he wouldn't hide it from you, it just felt a little different. Then he wrote down the dream he had. This was his notebook, and he wasn't going to change his tactics now. He wrote down everything in as much detail as he could remember. He wrote down the way the sliding glass door felt against his hand and exactly which song the dream version of you had been singing.
And then he dropped the notebook and pen onto the floor and fell asleep without getting changed. When he woke up, he felt better. The jetlag had confused his body, but luckily he had plenty of time to get himself ready for the day. He ate breakfast alone after a long shower, and then he headed for the classroom. Everyone else seemed a little tense, and Bradley tried to chalk it up to the fact that only the admirals knew what was going on. But frankly they seemed tense as well.
"Good morning," Warlock greeted everyone with a stern face and a deep voice. The room was absolutely silent for him. "Welcome aboard the USS Nimitz. I'm Admiral Bates, and this is Admiral Simpson. The seven of you have been selected to be here today, simply because you've consistently shown three qualities in your career: you can make good decisions under pressure, you treat your teammates with respect, and you come highly recommended by your superiors. You'll need to employ every bit of your knowledge and skill to make this mission successful. And it is of the utmost importance that we are successful." He paused, and when he spoke again, he was looking directly at Bradley. "Welcome to Operation Loophole."
----------------------------
You hadn't heard another word from Jake after lunch on Monday. You'd gone home to Tramp and eaten your burrito bowl before falling asleep on the couch while you tried to watch a movie. Your cramps were so bad, you could barely function, and Bradley wasn't even home to run around and get everything for you.
"Come on," you said to Tramp as you stood and stretched around midnight. You let him outside and then took your phone to your bedroom while he trotted along behind you. Then you got yourself ready for bed and emailed the photographer who had helped you make Bradley's birthday present last year. She promised she would fit you in again, and you hoped she could take some photos of you this weekend when your period was over and you weren't so bloated.
You curled up in bed after turning the lamp off, and you thought about Bradley. You didn't even know where he was right now. The base in South Korea could be a jumping off point for pretty much anything, and all you could do now was wait and hope for a facetime call.
After turning your ringer up louder, you eventually fell asleep with Tramp. When you woke up for work, you took your phone everywhere with you. It joined you on the bath mat when you took a shower, and you had it in your pocket as you ate breakfast. You weren't going to miss a call from Bradley this time.
When you strolled into your lab right on time, Cat was already working, and she had the headphones on again. You tried to settle in to check some code so you could get your submissions out before your deadlines when Jake walked in.
"Angel," he said quietly, and he looked a lot calmer today. His gaze shifted to Cat, and you noticed he had a piece of paper in his hand. He hesitated, but then she carefully slid the headphones off and set them down next to her keyboard. Jake took a deep breath, and you tried to be discreet as you watched him walk over to her.
She was looking up at him from her seat, and her expression gave nothing away. Jake said a few words and then handed her the paper before turning and walking away. Now he looked a little apprehensive as Cat read the note over a few times. She jumped up from her seat, and the paper sailed to the floor, landing close to your boot. You picked it up and read it as Cat called out to him and reached for his hand to stop him.
I don't want you to give up on me.
It was followed by a phone number. Jake's new phone number. You smiled as you watched the two of them kissing out in the hallway. When Cat eventually walked back in, trying her best to contain her smile, she looked around a bit frantically for the note.
"Here you go," you told her, holding it out. She snatched it from you with a grin and then sat down without a word.
But a few minutes later, your phone vibrated in your pocket with a text from that new number. Angel, come have lunch with Bob, Nat and I today.
You couldn't turn down the invitation. At 12:30, you found yourself holding a lunch tray and sliding into the seat next to Jake as the three of them continued with their discussion as if you'd always been there.
"I don't want to move to Poway," Bob said as he poked at his salad with his fork. "It will take me forever to get to work, and there's nothing up there anyway. Then you guys will forget about me and stop inviting me to things."
"I never invite any of you to anything," Nat interjected before biting into her cheeseburger. "You all just show up regardless."
"Well, what do you think, Angel?" Jake asked, eating a duplicate of the sandwich you enjoyed yesterday.
"I'm sorry, but what are we talking about here?" you asked, turning your attention back to Bob when he sighed.
"My landlord is raising my rent," Bob replied. "I'm seriously considering a new place instead of renewing my lease, but nothing I've found seems suitable. And Nat and Jake are very little help."
Nat nodded in agreement, and Jake rolled his eyes. His phone was sitting on his tray, and you saw it light up with a text from Cat. When you met his eyes, he was smiling.
"Well, Bob," you said, returning your attention to the man across from you, "I will definitely ask around and let you know if I hear of anything that might work out for you. And we could never forget to invite you to things. You're too sweet for that to happen."
"Thank you," he murmured, blushing a bit as he ate a bite of salad. You felt like you owed him a little bit since he'd kept Bradley so calm during that last, painful deployment. He'd given your husband a blank notebook and had taken the time to meditate with him. "How's Rooster's special detachment?"
You shrugged. "No idea. He just left yesterday. I'll be lucky to hear from him at all."
---------------------------
The training routine every day for the first week was rigorous, but the really crazy thing was the fact that the admirals still hadn't provided any real details about Operation Loophole. Bradley and the others were in the air working through exercises all morning every morning, and then they were all in the small classroom below deck until late. Oftentimes Admiral Simpson had food delivered to the room as he went over scenarios that didn't quite make sense without all of the information.
They just kept going over three different scenarios: Alpha, Beta and Gamma. Bradley knew them by heart, and he was sure the others did as well. But they weren't being told which one they would be flying for the mission. They were only being told they needed to be able to perform any of the three flawlessly.
On Friday morning at breakfast, Bradley decided to sit with Bluebird. It hadn't escaped him that the seven pilots all gave each other a bit of a wide berth during any sort of free time. He was left to assume that none of them had ever worked together before. He knew he hadn't worked with any of them. Bluebird was from Lemoore, but none of the others were stationed in California at all. Havoc was from Whidbey Island. Jackal was from Key West. Richmond was from Great Lakes. Wilbur was from Norfolk. Dugout was from Pensacola.
"Are you starting to get the feeling they're withholding information from us?" Bradley asked as he took a seat.
Bluebird looked up from her book and laughed. "Are you starting to get the feeling we might never know what's really going on?"
"Shit," Bradley muttered, dousing his eggs in hot sauce just like you would. "If they don't say something soon, I'm going to start begging for information. At first it was exciting to be part of this whole thing, but now, I'm not so sure."
"I completely agree," she said, her voice laced with frustration. "Maybe the seven of us can pull together and riot."
She and Bradley walked side by side down the long corridor to the classroom without speaking, but it wasn't unpleasant. He didn't mind being alone with his thoughts right now, but it was especially nice to know he wasn't the only one who was frustrated here.
"Close the door behind you," Cyclone barked at Bradley. Everyone else was already seated as the door clicked shut, and Bradley found a seat as well. "Since you've proven you can fly the Alpha, Beta and Gamma scenarios to the highest level of perfection, let's talk a little more about Operation Loophole."
Bradley leaned forward a bit in his seat as Warlock turned off the lights, and the projector at the back of the room lit up the front wall.
"While giving you the barest amount of information possible," Cyclone started, "I'd like you to memorize what you see here."
Bradley looked at the aerial view of a city and the suburbs beyond. Then the image zoomed in on a small cluster of buildings before zooming further to one building with a dark green roof. He tried to take in every detail of where it looked like the front door opened up directly onto the sidewalk and the fact that there didn't appear to be any other buildings connected to it. The more he examined things, an uneasy feeling started to fill him up. And then he realized that he was looking at a live satellite feed as a motorbike rode past the building.
"This structure is currently housing five hostages. One is American. The other four are from allied countries. As far as our intelligence shows, they've been inside for fifty eight days."
Bradley had to fight the desire to look around the room as dread settled into his stomach. They were going to aid in a hostage extraction. He already knew what this meant. How dangerous it was going to be.
"Six of you will be chosen. One of you will remain on standby. There is no margin for error. You will be flying unmarked jets. You will be wearing unmarked flight suits. Communication with the carrier will be at short range only. Communication with each other will be through code only. Nobody can know who we are or where we came from or what our country of origin is. You will not fire a single weapon. You will not take a single hit. You will be perfect."
-------------------------
Early on Saturday morning, you left your house with your hair and makeup looking flawless. There was literally a suitcase full of your clothing and lingerie in the back of the Bronco as you drove it along the coastal highway, and you were singing along loudly to one of Bradley's playlists. His birthday was next weekend, but you hadn't heard a word from him since he left. You couldn't hold out too much hope that he'd be back in time, because you didn't want to be disappointed later. At least his birthday present would be ready for him whenever he got home.
This year you decided to incorporate Bradley's beloved Bronco into his birthday calendar. Yesterday after work, you spent hours washing and cleaning it up so the blue paint absolutely shined. The idea of becoming a pinup model for the second year in a row was making you antsy to get the photo shoot over with, but he'd told you explicitly how much he wanted another calendar. And you often caught him flipping through the one you made last year when he was supposed to be working out in the garage.
You were smiling by the time you arrived at the rocky overlook a few miles outside of Oceanside, and Flora, the photographer you met last year, was already there. "You look like you're ready for the spotlight," she said as she shook your hand.
"I'm nervous," you told her with a shrug.
"You were nervous last year, and the calendar turned out perfectly. And this time, we've got gorgeous weather and a natural backdrop. It'll be great."
You took a deep breath and got to work. She had you pose all around and inside the Bronco, and she had you move it a few times so it was facing different directions. Once again you brought Bradley's aviators, and they made it into a few photos. Flora helped you discreetly get changed into different outfits even though there was nobody around to see. She took photos of you in your honeymoon bikini leaning back against the hood as well as some in your denim shorts and red bra while you sat on the tailgate. So many poses, you couldn't keep track.
As she scrolled through the photos, examining the screen on her camera in the sunlight, she casually asked, "How do you feel about going topless?"
You pressed your lips together. If you did, Bradley was going to have to make sure nobody else saw it. But you already knew he would lose his shit. In a good way. "Okay, but you'll have to make next June the topless month."
"Sure," she replied as you looked around in every direction before unclasping your bra.
A few hours later, you were dressed in a simple sundress and walking into the usual restaurant for a late brunch. You slid into the booth next to Cam and across from Maria, and you were thankful there was already a mimosa waiting for you. Flora insisted the photos looked perfect, but you were still a little antsy over the state of the calendar.
"I'm starving," Cam whined, signaling for the waitress to come back. "Do you know what you want?"
"I literally just got here," you told him as you sipped your drink.
"You always get the same thing anyway," he murmured. "Both of you do." You could tell he was getting hangry by the way he ordered for all three of you when the waitress came back. "One French toast with berries. One avocado toast with bacon. One western omelette with extra hashbrowns." Then he aggressively bit into a piece of the cinnamon toast that the waitress left on the table.
"You're in a snippy mood," you told him, and then you realized that Maria was staring at her phone. "What's your problem?"
Cam sighed and chewed up the rest of the toast. "I'm starving, first of all. Second, I think my boss is going to promote me next cycle, which is great, but I also feel like a dick, because I kind of want to switch labs. And third, Maria won't stop whining."
"I'm not whining!" she whined, rolling her eyes.
Great. You had to be the parent today. "Well, congratulations?" you said to Cam and he just ate more toast in response. Then you looked at Maria and asked, "What's got you so upset?"
She set her phone down, and you could tell she was apartment hunting. "Rochelle is moving out. Her boyfriend got a bigger place, and she's moving in with him. She pulled a you."
You grimaced and muttered, "Sorry."
She waved you off. "It's fine. She wasn't that great anyway. But I can't afford two bedrooms alone when everyone else around me is getting married and getting promotions and raises except me," she said blandly, rubbing her hands over her face. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."
Cam downed his mimosa in one go, but you were still looking at Maria. "Hey... you remember Bob Floyd? Phoenix's backseater?"
"Lieutenant Commander Mustache and his parade of hot friends," Cam mumbled, and you elbowed him to be quiet.
Maria had a faraway look in her eyes now. "Bob Floyd. He always smells nice."
Cam nodded in agreement. And you nodded in agreement as well. "He does always smell nice," you whispered, thinking about the last time you hugged Bob.
"Anyway, what about Bob?" Maria asked, still fidgeting with her phone.
You smiled. "He's looking for a new place."
--------------------------------
Bradley was in his bunk, getting undressed after dinner when there was a knock on the door. "Yeah?" he asked, opening it up to reveal a petty officer.
"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw?"
"Yeah?" Bradley repeated, buttoning his shirt up again.
"If you want to make a call, there are some free iPads in the communication room. I saw your name on the list."
"Oh," he murmured, quickly tucking in his shirt again and following him out the door. "Thanks."
Bradley's heart was pounding erratically. After you missed his call last deployment, he had gotten so frustrated, and you'd gone to talk to Dr. Genevieve. He was trying to do some quick math to determine what time it was back home, but he was already in the room. He felt flustered as he was given a tablet and a private spot to sit. As quickly as he could, he entered your number, hoping to have as much time to talk to you as he could.
Just a few seconds later, you answered with a loud, "Roo!" Bradley saw your face for a few seconds before you dropped your phone. Then there was a string of curse words before you picked it up again. "Bradley?!" you asked in a panicked voice.
"I'm here, Baby Girl."
You squealed with delight, and Bradley realized you were standing halfway in and halfway out of the shower. You were completely naked, and you looked like perfection as you asked, "Are you okay?"
"Yes," he replied, knowing there was no way he could share any classified details about his mission with you. He was going to have to keep you talking about yourself as much as possible. "I miss you so much. How are you? How's Tramp?"
"Good!" you gushed, moving under the shower spray and holding your phone out away from you as you rinsed off. Bradley was completely distracted by your wet tits as you said, "I had brunch with Cam and Maria on Saturday, and Nat and I got our nails done. But I miss you. Did you fly yet?"
"Not yet," he rasped as you stood in the far corner of the steamy shower and smiled at your phone. "God, you look good."
Your smile grew as you leaned against the tile wall, bringing your free hand up to touch your breasts, and he could see his wedding ring on your necklace chain. "Do you know when you'll be home? Can you tell me about your mission?" you asked softly as the sound of the shower somehow calmed Bradley's nerves as you wound him up a little bit.
He just grunted. "I'd rather watch you, Sweetheart."
And you fucking let him. Your fingers with your pretty manicured nails brushed along your nipples as you sighed his name. He had no idea how he's gotten this lucky in life, as you treated him to those pretty fingers on your clit and slipping inside your pussy just for him. He watched you masturbate, and he turned the volume down when you got loud. His hand was resting on his cock as he grew harder for you, the sounds you made echoing through the shower enclosure.
"Baby Girl," he groaned softly as he watched your face on the screen as you came. Perfect. You looked perfect. His mind flashed back to the dream he had as he looked at your face, relaxed and sated.
"Tell me how much you miss me, Roo," you whispered breathlessly. So Bradley waxed poetic about your body and your voice and how he couldn't get comfortable in bed without you. He made you laugh, and his cock stayed hard as you licked your lips.
And then he was told he had a minute left. "Hey, listen," he told you softly. "Time's almost up. I don't know when I'll be flying or when I'll be home, but I think this is going to be a crazy one, okay?"
"Okay," you said, apprehension creeping into your voice.
"But I'm doing great here. I'm ready for anything. So there's no need to worry. I'll be home soon."
"I love you, Bradley."
"I love you so much, Sweetheart."
Bradley felt like he was still in a bit of a daze as he returned to his bunk. He thought about jerking off to the videos you and he made on his phone, but he barely had his shirt off when there was another sharp knock on his door. He answered in just his uniform pants. It was Bluebird, and the sight of her wearing her unmarked, black flight suit added to the adrenaline already coursing through his body.
"Get changed into your black suit. It's time to go."
She moved down the hallway, knocking on another door, and it took Bradley a few seconds to pull his thoughts together. It was mission time. It must be dark out on deck now. He would be flying at night. He took a minute to breathe deeply the way Bob taught him, and then he got changed.
He was the last one to walk into the classroom, and it felt so strange to have no identifying clothing or patches on his person at all, especially when the admirals were dressed for a normal day. "Have a seat," Warlock announced, and then he turned the lights out, leaving the room in pitch darkness. "You'll be flying tonight in these conditions. Your eyesight will do little to help you beyond seeing what's on your radar readouts. Rely on your teammates and your instincts instead."
Then the projector clicked on while Bradley's heart pounded. Cyclone was at the front of the room, signaling for the satellite image to be zoomed in further and further. "Our sources on the ground relayed useful intelligence in the last hour. The hostages are most likely being transported around midnight, potentially to an execution site. SEAL Team 7 is ready just off the coast aboard the USS Charleston. You will provide a distraction for the SEAL team, enabling them to penetrate the building and perform an extraction before the hostages can be moved. Two of you will protect a comanche helicopter crew providing imaging for the SEAL team. Four of you will lure enemy aircrafts out over the water and away from the military base located here."
The image on the wall zoomed out and back in on an airstrip located not too far away from the hostages. Bradley listened as Cyclone told them their current coordinates, the coordinates of the base, and the coordinates of the hostages. "You need to keep the enemy aircrafts away from the Charleston and keep the comanche crew out of danger. Bluebird, you're the team leader for the comanche protection. Wilbur, you fly with Bluebird." Cyclone turned to look at Bradley as he said, "And Rooster, you'll lead the team composed of Havoc, Richmond and Dugout to lure the enemy jets out over the water. Any questions?"
Cyclone nodded at Richmond when he raised his hand, "Sir, are we following flight plan Alpha, Beta or Gamma?"
Cyclone shook his head. "None of the above. You'll be flying flight plan Omega, and we're going to make it up right now."
-------------------------------
Bradley is out there on the mission of a lifetime. More action coming soon. Thank you @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 22
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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#rooster imagine#rooster x reader#rooster x you#rooster fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw imagine#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#rooster bradshaw x reader#top gun imagine#top gun maverick imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#roosterforme#always ever only you
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⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ whenever i want it — hyunjin x afab reader
↻ 0.8k :: established relationship :: cw. explicit smut. dom!hyunjin. free use. blow job, face fuck, unprotected sex, fingering, cumplay, dry cum, cum eating, dirty talk, marking, hair pulling, use of "princess", slight size kink, hyunjin's hands™️, sweaty hyunjin™️, pwp.
hyunjin and you have an agreement.
↻ 18+ mdni :: not proof read, pls be kind :: masterlist
↻ hmm did i just post two times in one day? oops. blame a lazy sunday, but i couldn't stop thinking about hyunjin and free use, so... here am i. this is filthy and i have no excuse ♡♡♡
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
“You like this, huh?”
Hyunjin slams his hips against yours, his cock buried deep inside you. He is thick, his cock throbbing with need. The lewd sound of your juices sucking him in fills the room. He is right. This is exactly what you like. To be fucked hard like a rag doll by him, used like an object, be his, so unashamedly his.
He gathers your hair in his fist and pulls back, arching your back against the couch, your walls pulsating around him. You desperately want him to move, to keep hammering you into the leather, but he has a firm grasp on you. He’s stronger, and he knows it.
A chuckle passes his lips, low, guttural. “Such a small thing. Can’t even move to fuck yourself on my cock… Tsk.”
A chuckle passes his lips, low, guttural. “Such a small thing. Can’t even move to fuck yourself on my cock… Tsk.”
You whimper, parting your lips as Hyunjin’s long fingers crawl in your mouth. His digits trace your lips, tease your tongue, before he makes you almost choke on them.
“That throat is all sore from me, huh? But you look so cute when I fuck your face, princess. Couldn’t help it.”
“Hyun -” you moan.
“I thought we agreed, princess,” he whispers in your ear. “Free use means I do whatever I want with you whenever I want it.”
You nod slowly, and Hyunjin moves back, pushing your head into the cushion of the couch. He starts to thrust his hips, his large hands holding yours tight as he pounds into you.
You’d just been reading on the couch, enjoying your book, when Hyunjin came home from his dance practice, sweaty and agitated. He took your book, threw it away and took your chin between his fingers. Open up, he said. You did, and he shoved his hard cock in your warm, wet mouth, fucking your throat until he came all over your face.
It was still not enough - he was still hard, still horny, still pissed from not mastering this routine, so he undressed you and impaled your cunt with his cock. You’d already been soaking from his animalistic grunts when he fucked your face, so entering you was easy. His cum was drying on your face, dripping on the couch. He was covered in sweat, his long dark hair a tangled mess, his eyes sparkling, and he was beautiful.
You love being used by him, degraded by him, called names, licked and fucked and ruined, he could do whatever he wanted and you were happy. You knew he loved you. He never really hurt you. You knew he was just a horny all the time, that sex was his way of exteriorizing his frustration, that nothing calmed him down like cumming deep inside of his favorite fuck toy - you. Hyunjin loved to play with you, to tease your nipples, to open your legs while you were doing something and shoving two fingers inside of you. You were always wet for him. Always ready to take his thick cock wherever he wanted to put it. He was your all.
“Fuck, you look so beautiful,” he breathes, still pounding into you mercilessly, pumping his hips in and out.
“You feel so good, Hyunjin,” you say. “Fuck me, use me all you want…”
You feel your orgasm coming, your hands grasping at the leather of the couch, and Hyunjin knows you well.
“Are you cumming, princess? You’re going to clench that tight wet cunt around my cock, huh? You want me to fill you up?”
“F-fuck, Hyunjin - yes -”
He starts to thrust into your most sensitive spot and you cum instantly, shaking like a leaf as Hyunjin lets out a loud moan.
“Hng, fuck, I’m cumming!” he cries out.
He releases inside of you, warm spurts of cum filling your cunt. You are still shaking as you ride your high, the feeling of him dripping down your hole making you dizzy. You turn your head to see him remove himself from you, jerk himself off to the sight, his cock still red and glistening. He grabs your ass, pulling your cheeks to see your ruined pussy better.
“We’re not wasting a drop, are we, princess?”
You shake your head, and Hyunjin pushes his fingers inside of your sensitive hole, gathering as much as he can on his fingers. He then flips you over on the couch and kisses you.
“All that cum on your face, princess… You look so fucking filthy.”
He gathers some more of the cum on your cheeks and nose - then he pushes it all inside of your mouth. You lick his fingers clean as he watches you with intent. His cheeks are a little red, his eyes glassy from the sex, his delicious mouth parted.
“Feel better?” you ask him.
“Much,” he laughs, licking his lips and kissing you deep. “Now how about a bath?"
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
#hyunjin smut#hwang hyunjin smut#hyunjin x you#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin x female reader#hwang hyunjin x you#hwang hyunjin x reader#hwang hyunjin x female reader#hyunjin imagines#hyunjin hard thoughts#hyunjin hard hours#hwang hyunjin hard hours#skz smut#skz x you#skz x reader#skz x female reader#skz imagines#stray kids smut#stray kids x you#stray kids x female reader#stray kids x reader#stray kids imagines#kpop smut
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what do people like most about you?
pick a card #1: what most people in your life - friends, family, coworkers, etc. - like about you ♡
how to participate:
♡ think to yourself “what do people like about me?”
♡ pick the my melody plush that you feel most drawn to.
clear your mind & take as long as you need to choose. keep in mind that you may feel drawn to & choose more than one. you also may not feel drawn to any of them, so don’t force it! these readings will be honest. the piles are in order from left to right.
pile 1 ♡
they like that you’re strong and know how to handle things on your own. they like that you’re courageous, confident & don’t let people walk all over you. they like that you’re protective of yourself and the ones you care about. they like that you’re able to compromise & get along with or work with people you don’t like. they like that you don’t let circumstances get in the way of your end goal (like you may have had a harsh upbringing or even may be going through a rough patch right now, but you don’t use that as an excuse and you handle business regardless), they like that you’re a loyal friend or just a good ally to have in general. they like your ideas and the different view points that you bring to the table. they like that you’re generous and unselfish when it comes to knowledge, but also material objects.
pile 2 ♡
people like that when they’re around you, you feel like a bestfriend (you might be the type or person people want to hang out with all the time), they like that you seem to be the ride or die type that you’re flexible enough that you’re someone they can get crazy with, but also have a lazy day and just relax with. they like that you’re a comforting presence to be around and a good source of emotional support (you’re probably good at distracting people from their problems), they like you work on yourself a lot and put in the effort to be your best, they like that you’re fair and have good judgement, they like that you’re willing to sacrifice for others or will take the short end of the stick to make everyone else happy. they also may like that you aren’t hard to look at (attractive)
pile 3 ♡
they like that you’re loving (you may have a mom vibe or just make people feel like family), they love your kindness and your love for your loved ones in general - it’s clear that you value family a lot, they like your happy and carefree demeanor, they like that you plan things well and have good timing, they like that you cherish good times and creating good memories, they like that you seem to remember things well (this could be good memory in general, but i see this as you remembering small facts about people and impressing/shocking them when you casually bring it up later), they like that you genuinely care about societal issues and aren’t afraid to speak up about it, they like your creativity & that you’re good at saving/making money.
pile 4 ♡
they like that you’re always on the go and ready for an adventure, they like that you like to indulge in life (maybe you’re a foodie or you like to go out a lot, i see vacations, bars & good food), they like that you like to share & you’re unselfish when it comes to sharing your lifestyle with others (you could be the type to take people out to eat a lot or show them about a cool place they didn’t know about), they like that you don’t let things or people disrupt your plans, they like that you’re a good gift giver, they like that you’re responsible enough in a sense that you don’t play victim and take accountability for your actions, they like that you can take care of yourself & they like that you’re romantic and value that sort of connection.
pile 5 ♡
people like that you seem to have a lot of pride & self respect, they like that you’re discerning with a strong moral code, they like that you’re confident, they like that you have a sharp tongue and come up with slick remarks or are good at throwing shade, they may find you funny and think you tell good jokes or you’re good at making fun of people in a playful way, they like that you don’t let setbacks hinder you (even if you’re upset, you power through it), they like that you care about women (or maybe women just feel comfortable around you in general), they like that you’re romantic, they like that you’re unpredictable and do what you want/follow your heart.
pile 6 ♡
they like that you’re good hearted and laugh a lot, they like they you’re smart and good at working out details/solving problems, they think that you give good advice (people may want you to steer them in the right direction or give them instruction on how to do things), they like that you can be a source of hope and confidence, they like that you’re able to stay optimistic and that you’ve succeeded in overcoming something very bad (congratulations!), they like that you think differently than others and may see you as innovative, they like your connection with animals and love for nature or care for the environment, they like that you refuse to sacrifice your integrity & they like that you have a variety of different interests.
pile 7 ♡
people like that you’re smart & intuitive (it’s like you just seem to “know” things), they like that you aren’t afraid to be yourself and walk your own path, the people around you might think that you’re in a transitional phase right now, and they like that you’ve learned a lot about life (it’s as if you’ve become more wise and have learned to give up things that don’t matter to focus on what’s really important), they like that you don’t care about what other people think and are willing to take one for the team or get treated like a black sheep/out cast in favor of what you believe in, they like that you’re curious and do your research & they like how spiritual you are.
pile 8 ♡
people like that you can be a bit ruthless and controversial (maybe you cuss a lot) they see this as real and uncensored (like what you see is what you get), they like how much you care about connection and having a partner to build a future with (they probably see you as loyal and devoted in this sense, and not afraid to go after a lover), they like that you’re patient and know how to think before you act (you aren’t impulsive), they like that you’re a hard worker and are good at what you do (well versed in your craft whatever that may be), they like that you’re humble and genuinely care about others well being & that you can think outside of yourself.
pile 9 ♡
people like that you can be a source of motivation, they like that you’re self-made and may even see you as a good rolemodel! people find you charismatic (and maybe even a bit dreamy), people like that you care for others a lot and admire that you will always share the things you’ve earned with others (they feel as if you really give and love unconditionally), they like that you always have good news or some type of gift you’ve earned as a result of your hard work (whether it be a raise or you some how coming across money/success/greater opportunities), they like that you seem trusting and aren’t too skeptical of others (you let people in easily) and that you’re very forgiving, they like that you’ve completely devoted yourself to something, they like that you’re easy to get in contact with and are always ready to help & they like that you’re nurturing.
#tarot#tarotblr#pick a card#pac#celebrity tarot reading#kpop tarot#personal tarot reading#my melody#sanrio#free tarot readings#piano tarot
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Hii im new here! Found your blog by chance and I love how you write! Would you be able to write wanderer x jealous!reader on valentines day? Lets say Wanderer has got a lot of admirers from the akademiya and reader is just silently furious abt it but doesnt say anything. When Wanderer finds out he fucks them nicely and praise them/ reassures them <333
Apparently I struggle to do angry jealousy, I just make it sad... but it's light this time! And soft.
Also it feels so weird writing Wanderer as a name??
Want to skip the lead up? Look for the NSFW sign that marks the smut!
Valentine's with Wanderer
Character: Top!Wanderer/Scaramouche
Reader: Bottom!Gn // Genre: Smut, angst
Cw: Classic Scara misunderstandings, praise/reassurance, fingering, soft sex, slight angst(?) it's more hinted I guess
Plot: A little // Word count: 1.9k
Valentine's Day: a day of love, gifts, and showing appreciation for your partner.
Usually, everyone tries to take the day off, freeing up their schedule so that they can focus entirely on the occasion, however it may be that they want to spend it. Which is why you were quite surprised to find yourself alone in bed when you woke up in the morning.
Now, that's not when you started feeling doubt. After all, maybe Wanderer, your boyfriend of the past few months, was in the kitchen. Breakfast in bed is a traditional start to Valentine's Day, and an easy way to get in anyone's good books. But, when you heard nothing after a few minutes of waiting, – no clanking of cutlery or slamming of cabinets – you just had to go see where he was.
Unluckily for you, all you could find was a little note, hastily sprawled and left waiting on the counter:
"I'll be gone for a while, don't wait up for me. I left you some breakfast in the cupboard, it might need heating up if you stay in bed too long, but that's not my fault...
–Happy Valentine's Day."
As usual, his handwriting is kind of hard to read; quick and messy. But, at least he did technically make you breakfast, even if he also alluded to you being lazy.
However, what most takes your attention, is the blotch of ink that splattered right at the end of "fault". It was as if he were hesitating to let go, to pick up the pen and leave it at that.
Which is why you felt oddly warm at the fact that the last part was perfectly legible and obviously had been written slower than the rest.
Even though you know Wanderer isn't particularly fond of outright expressing his feelings, you thought that surely, today of all days, he could push aside his own pride for you. Even just a little. Maybe that was too high of an expectation. His ambitions never let him take a break, so why would he take one for a made-up holiday?
Well... at least he's aware enough of your excitement for the day to acknowledge it first thing in the morning, even if he wasn't there to actually say it.
But, you knew that with Wanderer, everything would be awkward and touchy the first time around. You had to move slowly. Baby steps, you remind yourself, as you head back to your shared room to start getting ready.
It's only the start of the day.
...
You wish it weren't Valentine's Day.
Every street was lined with couples, each and every one of them holding hands, carrying flowers... things that you should be doing with your boyfriend right now.
And it didn't help that you felt like everyone was judging you for being alone, especially when most of them likely knew who you were dating. It's not like you hadn't seen them staring before now.
You couldn't blame them, really. Wanderer had shown up in Sumeru suddenly and didn't feel especially inclined to explain himself, so of course people would be curious. You just didn't like the way that their eyes would... linger after him. Even when you were there! And on the rare day that Wanderer was comfortable enough to let you hold onto him in public, the admiring stares turned to full-blown jealousy.
Now, what was wrong with that? Shouldn't that be an ego boost for you? You'd thought so too, at first. But then you realised that just meant they'd want to try and steal him from you.
You thought you could put up with it at first. After all, you knew that Wanderer wouldn't stand for anyone else touching him or getting in his way other than you. You trusted him just fine. You didn't trust the average Akademiya goer, though. They all seemed to think they were entitled to have whatever – or whoever – they wanted, just because they'd gotten into the prestigious school at all.
You'd tried to bring up your concerns to Wanderer about the whispers going around and the jealous looks you'd get when walking through the streets or halls of the Akademiya. Almost instantaneously, he shut down your complaints, finding the words so easily that it almost felt as though he hadn't even tried.
"Tch... they're annoying and only want to waste our time. Just ignore them like I do."
That response was actually exactly what you'd expected to hear, and while you were grateful for his straightforward answer, you'd wanted a more... passionate outcome. Something to show he cared.
That definitely isn't what you got, considering he didn't even look at you when he said it.
After that, you didn't want to bring up the same problem again. Especially not on Valentines Day, even though he'll probably come home having been confessed to over twenty times in the past hour alone. Okay, maybe you were over-exaggerating a little, but it really didn't feel like it to you. Plus, it's the day of love! You're allowed a little leeway for feeling paranoid, right?
Maybe this evening will be better, when Wanderer finally comes come.
...
As you walk through the door, you're instantly met with a faint smell that you recognised to be the lavender lemongrass scented candles that you kept around the house. Of course, this clued you in to the fact that Wanderer must already be home. But what solidified this, was that when you walked through the doorway, there he was, waiting for you standing next to a vase of beautifully arranged flowers. It was mainly made up of your favourite flower, along with some of the famous Valentine's flowers as well, such as roses, carnations, and even some daisies.
Most likely, it was thought up by the florist that he went to. But at least he knew your favourite flower, as well as followed the tradition of buying them for you at all.
Often times, it was unusual for him to initiate physical touch with you; even though he was comfortable with you, he still just wasn't used to it yet. Tonight, however, he seemed to have no trouble in walking right up to you, taking your hand to guide you into the living room, where you could both just relax in each other's company. The calming lavender lemongrass candles eased your mood quite well, and you were happy that your Wanderer had really tried for Valentine's day.
...
You had a lovely evening with your boyfriend, cuddling on the couch as you spoke in hushed voices about anything and everything (even if he was slightly apprehensive to start), the lovely atmosphere of romantic music quietly flooding through from the street.
And even though it had felt perfect, as you get ready to retire for the night, the candles having gone out a while ago, you can't help but feel the uncertainty from before start to overtake your thoughts again.
Resigning yourself to forget about it, you get into your side of the bed, your Wanderer already having been waiting for you to return. But he can tell that something in your mood has changed almost as soon as he lays his eyes on you again.
"What's wrong?"
"... Nothing."
He leans forward, showing his engagement. "Bullshit. If you don't tell me, there's nothing I can do to help you get over it."
"I just... those people from the Akademiya... they're still bothering me." You look down at your hands.
He sighs, closing his eyes for a second, "I've told you to just ignore them. There's nothing I can do to control how people think of you, or me, or us."
"I can't just ignore them!" You whine, "They're always looking at us when we're together... it's making me worried..."
At that, he looks over at you, his eyes scrunching as he thinks your words over. "Worried about what?"
Not sure how to say it, you move yourself to lay against him. Your back is pressed to his chest now, and the feeling of his warm breath on your neck helps to soothe your thoughts just enough for you to find the words:
"...I don't want them to take you from me..."
Now, it's Wanderer's turn to be silent. Now, he realises the mistake he'd made in telling you to just ignore those insignificant people; by ignoring the problem himself, he'd made you focus on it more. Of course you'd be feeling worried about this, he'd shut it down the first time you'd tried bringing it up.
You didn't need to just forget about it. You needed to work through it so that you could forget about it.
After almost a minute of tense silence, you're surprised when you feel his lips press gently to the back of your neck, accompanied moments later by his arm curling around you, pulling you ever closer against him. His hand rests over the place where your heart rests, while the other intertwines your fingers with his against your stomach, as if caging in the butterflies that start to flutter.
"Allow me to try again..." He presses a kiss to your ear before speaking again, "you don't need to think about them, or what I think about them." The hand on your heart shifts to cup your chest, your breath wavering when his hand brushes over your hardening nipples. "Because I'll never want anyone but you."
Then, the night is almost a blur.
Wanderer sneakily pulls a bottle of rose scented lube from under the pillow, liberally gathering some as he starts to stretch you out on his fingers. The scent slowly fills the room, intoxicating you on the heady fragrance, allowing it to pull you deeper into the moment.
He steadily pushes his fingers against the sensitive bundle of nerves inside of you, never slowing until after you've cum around his lubed up digits. Your hand finds purchase with the one on your chest, tightening your grip around him as you come down from the residual high.
He's whispering short encouragements to you while you collect your breath, the moans you'd been letting out dying on your tongue. Wanderer slowly lifts your leg, allowing him to guide his hard cock to finally, finally press against your hole, not making you wait to feel him as the slowly pushes in.
You don't need to adjust much, the lube and his attentive fingers having done the work well enough that only the comforting sensation of being full registers in your core. He starts thrusting when you signal that you're ready, his pace is easy and the power behind his hips is controlled enough to pull a soft moan from you with each stroke. It's different from what you're used to, but it's good. So good. And what makes it better is the hushed and stuttered, "I love you," and, "You're the only one that matters," that gets breathed into your shoulder as you both approach your shared climax.
The next morning, you wake up to find your Wanderer exactly where he ended last night; right next to you in your bed. You close your eyes contentedly, knowing you'll never have to worry about him being taken from you.
He's your Wanderer.
Want to send a request/brainrot with me? Check my rules!
Thank you for reading! 🩷
#genshin impact#genshin impact smut#genshin smut#genshin#genshin imagines#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin wanderer#scaramouche smut#scaramouche x reader#wanderer smut#wanderer x reader#genshin scaramouche#wanderer x reader smut#scaramouche x reader smut#genshin angst#genshin impact angst#Writing for an ask~🩷
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In Memory of Him | It's Cold In Here
↳ Florist!Taehyung x Artist!f.Reader
⤜ Non-Idol, Late Husband's Best Friend
⤜ Rating: MA 🔞
⤜ WC: 13,558
⚠️ Mild language, death/loss of a loved one, deep depression, high anxiety, loads of guilt, hidden feelings, realizations, hurt feelings, repressed feelings, hurt/comfort
Next Chapter⇾ (coming soon!)
◅ Back to story masterlist
With trembling fingers, you smooth out the letter that you found attached to a bundle of flowers on your doorstep.
To the love of my life, For after the funeral
Take a deep breath, baby, I know it’s not easy. Even as I sit and write this, I can feel your energy in the next room. You’re always such a worrier, I’m sorry I’ve added to that. It’ll all be better soon, I promise. But, I know you and I know that you’ll pull away, you’ll cut yourself off…and we can’t have that, now can we? You have to keep going if we’re to stay connected even after I’m gone.
So, here’s the first of a collection of some things that you can hold and look back on when the storm starts to roll in. There are only so many words in existence to describe what you mean to me. So, instead of words, I want you to remember these feelings:
Warmth - like the sun on your face while you read a great book
Satisfaction - the way you sigh softly after a good, lazy day in bed
Contentment - waking up with a smile on your face every morning
Peace - that moment of quiet before the rain starts, when the scent of petrichor filters in
These are all the things you’ve brought into my life the last seven years. I’ve never been able to look at the sun, sleeping, smiles, or storms the same. Never did I imagine I’d meet and marry such a beautiful, kind-hearted soul with a genuinely unique outlook on life. I never had to be reminded to smile because it just came so naturally whenever you were around. You have brought so much light into my world and gave me the best years of my life. You also gave me Sujin, the perfect little replica of myself even if you think he looks more like you than me (I secretly agree, but that’s not something I’ll admit outloud). When I look at our wonderful son, I’m reminded of the beauty that first drew me to you all those years ago. Being his father is the second greatest achievement of my life, the first being making you fall madly in love with me…don’t laugh, you know it’s true. Many people see things in black and white, a beginning and an end…but our life isn’t like that. We’re full of color and everything in between. You’ve supported me at my best and have loved me at my worst. Everything good in my life is because of you. I know you’ll always love me, and I know it won’t be easy once I’m gone, but I need you to promise me you’ll continue to wake up with that smile on your face and never forget how the sun feels or how beautiful the quiet before the storm is. I need my light, my girl, to keep going. Be that guiding light so I know exactly where you are in the world as I watch over you and Sujin. We knew forever wasn’t guaranteed, that’s just the way life is, right? This doesn’t mean it’s over, not by a long shot. You still have so much more to give, so much more love to offer.
I know you’d never forget about me, that’s not what this letter is for—it’s not a reminder of me, it’s a reminder to live, love, and keep shining. There are more where this came from, Taehyung has them and knows what to do, but not until you’re ready for them. I love you so much, never stop living—for me, for Sujin…for you.
Love forever,
Your Yejun
The letter crumples in your fist, the bundle of hibiscus and lavender it was attached to forgotten on the step between your feet as you bury your face in the crook of your elbow and scream. It’s better that way—the symbolism of the hibiscus flower on a letter from Yejun is a punch to the gut when he’s no longer here. Eternity? Bullshit. The sound is muffled into the thick wool of your coat but no less filled with agony. As if the day wasn’t hard enough, everything went belly-up when you found the flowers and the letter on your door step. You choke on a breath of air as you try to control yourself.
“Yejun.” His name drips from your trembling lips, absorbed into your jacket sleeve like your cries. “I miss you so much. Why did you have to leave us?”
A hand on your shoulder makes you flinch, jerking away from the potential comfort, despite it being exactly what you need right now. You crowd against the wall, knees knocking into one another as you huddle in on yourself where you’re sitting in the stairwell outside your apartment door.
“Hey, hey, hey, come here,” a strong, soothing voice coos. Your limbs protest weakly for a moment, your heart raging with guilt at the prospect of finding solace in another man’s arms—even if that man is Taehyung, your now late husband's best friend—but the desperate need for someone to hold your pieces together wins out. You fear if you let yourself truly break, you’ll never be able to be made whole again. You frantically launch into those open arms, keening a wail into the solid chest between them. “Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”
💔💔💔
Two years later
“Mommy, are we going to Uncle Tae’s house today?” Sujin asks from behind you, where he’s strapped into his booster seat.
You glance in the rearview mirror, angling yourself so you catch a glimpse of his smile as he stares out the window, patiently awaiting your answer. It’s gotten easier over the last two years to look at him without growing weepy. He looks like and reminds you so much of Yejun. They have the same chestnut-colored eyes and floppy midnight tresses. When he smiles, the tiny dimple on his left cheek is a near mirror to his father’s and something that your eyes seek out every time he flashes you a grin. Little pieces of his father that fill the gaps in your heart.
“Did you not want to stay at Grandma’s tonight? That’s what you said you wanted yesterday,” you remind him.
Sujin hums like he’s thinking hard about your question. “Well, I did want to go to Grandma’s, but I also want to see Uncle Tae, and plus, he always has good ice cream. All Grandma has is boring vanilla.”
“How about we see if Uncle Tae wants to hang out this weekend? I think Grandma would be sad if you decided not to stay with her tonight.”
In truth, you’d also be a bit disappointed if Sujin changed his mind. Being only four when his father passed, he doesn’t remember Yejun much, mostly knows him from photos and stories he’s heard. So, it’s not surprising he’s not able to put together that today is the second anniversary of his father’s passing. He doesn’t know that tonight isn’t just about your mom getting a visit. It’s also about you having an evening to grieve without being under your son's watchful and inquisitive eye.
Though maybe you’re wrong, perhaps he knows more than you think as he responds softly, “It’s okay, Mommy, I’ll stay with Grandma so you can go visit Daddy.”
If it wasn’t for tightening your grip on the steering wheel, you might have driven right off the highway. “You know what today is?” you ask hesitantly once your initial shock passes.
“Of course I do,” Sujin says with another smile, his dimple catching in the afternoon sunlight coming in through the car window. “I might not remember him, but I could never forget him.” It’s a wonder there aren’t more six-year-old poets, as what he just said is easily the most eloquent thing ever uttered by a child. Your heart swells, and you feel that telltale burn in the back of your nose and behind your eyes as you blink away the flood of emotions threatening to spill into the open.
You nod, taking a deep breath. “That’s right. He’d be so proud of you and how much you’ve grown.”
“He’d be proud of you, too, Mommy.”
It’s another blow, directly targeting the cracks already forming in your armor. Fissures zip and snap over the surface of the wall you’ve spent the last two years building. “Thank you, buddy. I love you,” you manage to get past the lump in your throat.
The rest of the car ride home is spent with Sujin telling you about his day at school and how one of his classmates snuck a salamander into the classroom after recess. You hum, haw, and laugh as he recounts the way the class reacted to the discovery of the amphibian.
It makes you feel lighter, listening to his words and hearing the clear whimsy his heart possesses as the salamander suddenly becomes a dragon and Sujin, the fearless knight that saved the teacher—the damsel in distress—by scooping it up and putting it in an empty lunch box.
“She said since I was so brave and such a good helper that I could go outside with Mr. Kim, the science teacher, and help him release it back into the wild,” he proudly proclaims. “Did you know salamanders like water? Mr. Kim said they’re kind of like frogs even though they look more like lizards.” Sujin continues on, spouting off facts he learned about the salamander from his science teacher.
It’s a short drive from the school to your apartment. You’ve often thought about moving, using some of the life insurance money from Yejun to buy you and Sujin a lovely place outside the city. But, your mom lives just a floor up, and it’s been convenient having someone so close to look after Sujin when you need them, like tonight.
Having your mom close by, not just as a babysitter but also as an emotional support outlet, has been a blessing and far outweighs the other feelings—the seemingly endless void that now lingers in place of your late husband. With that, though, you can’t help looking at your small apartment as more like a preservation of memories. It was the first place you and Yejun moved into after getting married. It’s the place you both brought Sujin home to when he was born. It’s still filled with so many memories…you’re not sure you want to leave—at least, not yet.
The building has no elevator, just several winding flights of steps right up the middle. “Go on up to Grandma’s. I’ll stop by with dinner before I leave. Remember, homework first before you play.”
Sujin gives you a beaming smile and nods his head in understanding before vaulting up the stairs, his strong six-year-old legs carrying him far faster than your own. You watch him disappear up the stairs—the last flash of his face so reminiscent of Yejun racing up those very same steps the day you moved in—followed by the familiar sound of your mother’s voice drifting out over and down the stairwell as she welcomes him into her space—a safe space, away from the looming cloud of darkness over you.
Knowing he’s occupied and cared for, you allow your mask to slip just a little. The weight on your shoulders eases as you let the emotional fatigue roll in and replace your typically calm and collected demeanor. Even after two years, it’s not gotten any easier when this particular day comes. The holidays are hard, sure. There are plenty of days where you find yourself feeling like it’s too much…but nothing truly compares to this day. It’s not filled with happy memories the way those other days are. It’s nothing but darkness. There is a constant ache in your chest, which is amplified when the calendar turns over, and you find yourself once again reliving that fateful day all over again.
You spent nearly every waking hour sitting beside Yejun, the uncomfortable, stiff hospital chair becoming your permanent perch. The ventilator was always loud, but the punching swoosh grew to be comforting because you knew that meant he was still there. All the lines and tubes hooked up to him made it look like a scene from one of those sci-fi films he enjoyed making you watch with him. Yejun was so full of life when you first met, many years before. But, the image stuck in your mind—the one you can’t seem to get rid of—is of him with sallow cheeks and pale, greyish lips, drained of life.
It’s weird to think of watching someone die. But that’s precisely what you did over the six months Yejun was in the hospital. The disease moved quickly, the cancer stealing your husband away bit by bit, and you were powerless to stop it. That’s probably one of the worst parts, the helpless feeling that no matter what you do, you can’t prevent it from happening. No amount of prayer, begging, or screaming would change it. He’d still die, just the same. Day by day, the best parts of the man you loved vanished, and by the end—you feel guilty even thinking the thoughts, so you push them out of your head.
After unlocking the door, you step into the quiet space of your apartment. Your shoes join the ones discarded by the door before you drop your purse on the small console table against the wall and make your way across the living room to the hall leading to the bedrooms. Sujin’s room is the first door. You peek inside to see that he had made up his bed before school this morning. You make a mental note to grab one of his chocolate popsicles from the freezer before dropping off dinner tonight. He deserves a little treat for being such a good kid.
The small single bathroom sits between Sujin’s room and the larger of the two bedrooms, the one you shared with Yejun for almost five years. You haven’t changed any of the decor. Everything is the same as it always has been, right down to the pillow on Yejun’s side of the bed. It took months before you mustered the courage to wash the pillow case and cried the entire time you stripped the pillow and plopped it in the washer.
The pillow was small fish compared to the closet. Going through all of Yejun’s clothes nearly took you out. Thankfully, Taehyung was there to help. You weren’t the only one that lost someone two years ago today. Taehyung and Yejun grew up together and worked together for the last dozen years, starting out as teens together at Taehyung’s parents' florist shop. They are—were—as close as brothers, and not just for the fact that Taehyung’s parents took Yejun in when his parents both passed, but because of their unbreakable bond—a bond nearly as strong as the one you had with Yejun.
Taehyung has been there for you whenever you’ve needed him since Yejun’s passing. All it takes is a phone call or a text message, and he drops everything for you. You try not to take advantage of it because you don’t want him sucked into your empty void any more than he already is. No grown man should be attached to a woman like that, especially when he has no obligation for it.
But, you must admit, it’s nice knowing he’s there…especially today. This is the one day of the year that you know you don’t have to text or call Taehyung for him to show up. His one promise to you. He’ll be there, waiting for you at the cemetery, just like he was last year.
You pull off your oversized t-shirt and worn jeans covered in splotches of paint from your time in the studio today. Once a well-known local artist, you haven’t been able to create anything worthwhile since Yejun passed. He would always joke about being your one true muse. It seems he wasn’t wrong. Everything you’ve been able to create in the last two years feels wrong, like it’s missing something.
The life insurance you received from Yejun has been more than enough to keep you and Sujin afloat. However, you feel like a failure having even to touch that money, even if it’s just to pay the bills. If you could just get your life together, you’d be able to provide for yourself and Sujin the way you once did—before everything happened. Shoving that line of thinking away, you focus on the here and now, just getting through the next handful of hours.
A quick shower later, and you’re dressed in a warm sweater and a clean pair of jeans with thick wool socks. It’s cold, winter having well and truly taken hold outside, but when the sun goes down, the bite from the wind grows more bitter. Grabbing the large, lidded bowl of beef stew you had cooking in the slow cooker all day. You wrap it in a dish towel to keep from burning your hands on the hot sides, snag a popsicle for Sujin, and make the short trip upstairs to your mom’s place.
“Hey, sweetheart,” your mom greets you when she opens the door. She’s gotten a lot more grey in her hair in the last year or so. The steel-colored strands stand out against her temples, framing her strong but still soft face. You used to think she looked too austere, but then you realized that was just the permanent mark of motherhood and time.
“Hi, Mom. Did Sujin get his homework done?” You follow your mom in, shutting and locking the door behind you as she ambles into the kitchen on the other side of the living room. Her apartment is a near mirror of your own, her second bedroom set up for Sujin as well.
“He finished a bit ago and wanted to break out the paints. Was nattering on about some sort of lizard, I think. He wanted to try to paint it,” she explains, putting the tea kettle on without needing to ask. Peppermint tea with a dollop of honey can fix even the worst of woes in her eyes. She’ll insist you have some just as she has any other time she can feel your darkness crowding in. You’ve grown to appreciate your mother's intuition, both for yourself and your son's sake.
“There was an incident involving a student bringing in a salamander at school, it seems. Sujin helped the teacher and was allowed to go out with Namjoon—Mr. Kim—to release it.” You recall the conversation in the car, your mother chuckling softly when you tell her about the salamander turning into a dragon.
She busies herself, packing the tea steeper with her own blend of mint tea. Tending the small garden of herbs and spices that she keeps on the fire escape off the living room, is how she spends most of her days since she retired a few years ago. Even in winter, she keeps a small plastic greenhouse over them, opening it just enough to care for them each day. “So, you’re on a first-name basis with that science teacher now?” she asks. You can tell she’s lightly probing, trying to figure out if there is anything more between you and ‘Mr. Kim’.
“I met him at the beginning of the year when we had parent-teacher meetings. He insisted I call him Namjoon, that’s all, Mom.”
Humming, she grabs the kettle just before it begins to whistle. “Still, he’s nice?” she asks, casting you a glance over her shoulder.
You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, wishing she’d not try to go down this path of questioning. You know she means well, but you’re just…you’re not ready to think about those things.
“He’s nice enough, Mom, I guess. It was just a slip of the tongue. I’m used to greeting him at drop-off in the mornings. It’s not—I don’t, it’s just being cordial, y’know? I’m not ready…” you trail off, hoping your mom picks up on what you’re trying to say so you don’t actually have to say it; not today.
Her free hand goes to her mouth, covering her frown. “Oh, sweetheart, I didn’t mean—you know I’d never, not like that. I’m sorry. Forgive an old fool for her loose words.”
“It’s okay, Mom, really,” you offer with a tight smile as you set the stew on the counter and pop the popsicle you brought for Sujin in the freezer.
She sets down the tea, the cup slightly trembling on the tiny saucer she serves it on. “I made some pajeon to go with the stew. It’s warming in the oven. Are you going to stay for dinner?” she asks, seeing that you need to move on from the previous subject.
You settle on one of the chairs at her small dining table, pick up the tiny teacup, and blow across the surface before taking a tentative sip. The mint is a cooling contrast to the heat of the liquid, coating your throat with a soothing sensation. The blooming sweetness of the honey lingers on your tongue, helping combat the intense punch of the minty flavor. It’s comforting. Reminds you of home.
“I’m not all that hungry. You and Sujin enjoy it. You’re sure you’re okay taking him to school tomorrow?” She gives you a fond smile and nods. “I’ll pick him up on my way home and we’ll come have dinner.”
“That’s fine, sweetheart.”
You finish off the tea, suppressing a grimace as it goes down a little too warm and nearly scalds your throat. The sun will be completely down soon, and you’d like to get to the cemetery before it’s too dark out. “I should get going. Just going to say hi to him real quick.”
Your mom watches you stand. Her eyes are hyper-focused on your face. “Okay, sweetheart,” she says slowly. It’s clear she wants to say more, but you’re glad she doesn’t push.
The room your mom has set up for Sujin has a small bed pushed into one corner, leaving the rest of the space for him to play—unlike his room at your place, which has a writing desk and dresser taking up the majority of the play space. He’s never complained, though, choosing to get creative with the small room he does have. “Hey, buddy, Grandma said you’re painting. Can I see?”
You lean on the door jamb, peering into the room. The easel Sujin is using is angled away from the door. All you can see is smears of bright color peeking around the edge of the canvas.
His bright eyes meet yours as he grins extra wide. “It’s not done yet, but of course you can see it.”
Stepping in and around the easel frame, you take in the canvas covered in paint. When your mom said he was going to paint the salamander, you knew there was a possibility of said ‘lizard’ being portrayed as a dragon as it was in Sujin’s story in the car. But what you didn’t expect were the characters surrounding the dragon. You count them, six in total. The brunette woman at the top of the castle tower is clearly Sujin’s teacher, Mrs. Min. Sujin himself is astride the dragon, and who you think is Namjoon stands in a corner near some trees, his large-frame glasses are what lead you to believe that’s who it is. The other three characters are where you’re a bit lost.
“Who are these people?” you ask, gesturing to the other feminine figure framed by two men; one with unruly black hair and the other with small angel wings extending from his shoulders. It dawns on you the moment you ask.
“That’s you, Daddy, and Uncle Tae, of course,” Sujin proudly states. “You were in the tower with Mrs. Min. I’m rescuing her, and Uncle Tae is rescuing you while Daddy guides him.”
You’re not sure what to say. But you can’t help looking at your son in a different light. He’s only six, but in moments like this, you feel like his soul is older and wiser than yours. “It’s lovely,” you finally say, because it truly is, and everything else you could say would definitely start the waterworks, and there will be enough of that later. “I’ll be back tomorrow to get you. Be good for Grandma. There’s a treat for you in the freezer, but only after dinner, okay?” You feel like you’re running away—and maybe you are, but the darkness creeps in just a little bit further the more you look at his painting.
“Yes, ma’am,” Sujin beams at you sweetly. He lifts his chin, angling a cheek in your direction for a kiss. You plant one there, throwing an arm around his back for a quick squeeze, too. “Love you, Mommy.”
“Love you, too, buddy,” you murmur, shoving down the suffocating feeling bubbling in your chest—just need to make it a few more hours.
💔💔💔
The cemetery is about an hour's drive from your place in the city. Yejun grew up in the countryside, and the columbarium where he’s interred is at the cemetery closest to his and Taehyung’s childhood home. It’s a quiet drive, a typical Tuesday evening if it were any other week. You don’t even bother with music, haven’t in the last two years, preferring to just soak in the quiet and try to center yourself.
As you pull into the parking area outside the gate to the grounds, you spot Taehyung’s black SUV. He’s standing beside it, leaning against the driver's side door with his chin tipped down below the line of the thick scarf wrapped around his neck. Your headlights swing across his vehicle, illuminating him in the process as you park.
You take your time climbing out of your car, casting fleeting glances in his direction while you gather your courage and resolve. He’s wearing a thick grey-colored tweed coat that covers him to the knees, and khaki slacks lead down to shiny brown loafers. His hair is windswept, the fluffy waves moving across his forehead with every gust of chilly air.
“Hey,” you say as you swing open your door and step out. He catches your eye over the roof of your car and gives you a soft smile.
“Good evening. Drive okay?”
You nod. “Not too much traffic, which is always nice.”
“You should have let me come and pick you up.” It’s the same thing he said last year, to which you decline politely just the same as well.
“Thanks, but I enjoy the drive. Gives me time to think.”
His eyes flick over you, taking you in from head to toe. There is understanding clear on his face. “Shall we?” He gestures toward the entrance gate. You notice a small bundle of flowers held in his other hand that’s hanging by his side. “Oh, this is for you.” It surprises you when Taehyung offers you the flowers, having thought he was bringing them to leave in Yejun’s vase.
You take the offered cluster, automatically bringing it to your nose and giving it a delicate sniff. It’s hard to smell the fragrance in the cold, but as you peer down at the flowers and take in the deep purple and soft pink, the scent of lavender and hibiscus filters through as if on a memory. It’s a combination that reminds you painfully of Yejun, as this was always his go-to whenever he would bring you home flowers from the shop after work.
“Thank y—“ your polite words cut off as you hear the distinct crackle of paper as you shift the bundle of flowers between your hands. “What’s this?” you ask, holding the flowers up until you see the small envelope attached to the hemp string holding the bunch together.
“A note,” Taehyung responds slowly as if he’s trying to decide if that’s all he’ll say. “Perhaps wait until we’re settled to read it?”
You finger the crisp fold of parchment, wondering. “Okay, yeah,” you agree, chalking it up to most likely being a grievance note from Taehyung, and it might be awkward for you to read it right now in front of him.
The cemetery typically closes at sundown, but Taehyung has access as the gardener. When he and Yejun took over Taehyung’s parents' floral shop, they expanded the business to include landscaping for local companies and establishments. The cemetery is one such establishment they took on. He produces a key from his pocket, unlocking the small pedestrian gate that must have been locked up not too long ago, judging by the sun barely having dipped below the horizon.
“Moojin left about ten minutes before you pulled up,” Taehyung explains casually, confirming the thought you just had. “It’ll just be us, so we can take as much time as we need.”
Maybe you should feel bad that Taehyung gives you preferential treatment and access to the cemetery after hours, but it’s hard to care about that when other, darker feelings have you clutched so tightly. The walk to the columbarium is relatively short, being one of the newer buildings erected within the grounds just some twenty years ago or so.
“The trees are doing well, even in the winter,” you note, nodding toward the row of young pines along the fence line. It was one of the last projects Yejun worked on with Taehyung before he became ill.
“He’d be able to tell you all the properties of the tree that make it sustainable during this time of the year,” Taehyung responds, his voice carrying notes of sadness. Yejun doesn’t come up much in conversation between the two of you, most things not needing to be said, merely understood without a spoken word. So, it’s surprising and endearing to actually hear Taehyung talk about him, especially now.
You smile, knowing he’s right. “With enough scientific jargon to make you go cross-eyed trying to keep up, too.”
That earns you a soft laugh from Taehyung. “And he wouldn’t even realize it until you’re so lost you can’t even pretend to have understood.”
“I miss that,” you whisper with a sigh, your warm breath misting lightly in the cold.
Taehyung slips his arm through yours, hooking his elbow around the crook of your arm. “Me, too.”
💔💔💔
Taehyung
It’s never easy, watching the way you suffer through your emotions. Taehyung knows you try to hide them, and sometimes you’re successful. But others…like right now, he can read you as clear as a bright spring sky. Only instead of pastel blues, pinks, and yellows, you’re a stark monochrome of Pantone grey. Just as clear, but decidedly less alive.
He hates it. Knowing just how vibrant of a person you once were. When Yejun left your life, so, too, did the color, it seems. Leeched away with the slow death of your husband. It’s a cruel fate, Taehyung has decided, and it’s one you never deserved. Yejun also knew this. He saw this in the way you mourned at his bedside, even before he was gone. It’s why Yejun made Taehyung promise to take care of you, to never let you forget how to smile.
As more time passes, Taehyung isn’t sure whether or not he’s done a good job by Yejun’s request. Not when the dark circles around your eyes seem to get more permanent every time Taehyung sees you. It’s why he brought the letter—the next letter. He’s curious if you remember the first one, the one that came the day of Yejun’s funeral; the one that had you crawling into Taehyung’s arms for the first time, seeking the comfort you knew was there.
That’s happened a few times in the two years since Yejun now. Any time you begin to fray at the edges and unravel a bit too quickly, Taehyung’s been there, weaving you back together the best he can. It might not be pretty, but a patchwork quilt is better than shredded rags, he likes to think. He hopes, at least.
“Are you warm enough?” Taehyung asks, realizing your arm is trembling around his. The jacket you’re wearing is far too thin, meant more for warding off spring rain showers than winter chills. Your lips are formed into a thin, bloodless line as if you’re trying to keep your teeth from chattering, and your brow is pinched.
The lift of your shoulder is subtle, dismissive and nonchalant. “I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not. Here,” Taehyung insists, pulling you to a halt on the walking path. “Take this.” He shrugs out of his jacket, draping it over the thinner trench you’re wearing over your sweater. You instantly relax, a soft sigh misting the air in front of your mouth.
“Thank you. I forget how cold it gets out here at night,” you mumble, encouraging Taehyung to continue walking toward the entrance to the columbarium, where Yejun’s memorial awaits. “Are you sure you’ll be okay without it?” Your eyes are round and glassy when you look up at him, the moonlight overhead reflecting in their depths.
The thick sweater Taehyung has on paired with his wool scarf is enough to stave off the wintery bite, but what warms him the most is seeing your eyes flash with a brief flicker of life when you snuggle into the depths of his jacket, bringing the tweed collar up around your neck after he assures you he’s fine without it.
Your feet shuffle, your stride slowing as you approach the columbarium. Taehyung can feel your hesitancy. The air around you is suffocating and full of static, something Taehyung wants desperately to help dispel.
“Come on. Together.” Taehyung offers you his hand, splaying his fingers wide in invitation. You lick your lips, eyes flicking between Taehyung’s face and his offered hand. Finally, you sag a little and slip your fingers in between his.
Your hand is soft and delicate in his. Taehyung has always admired your ability as an artist, being able to take your hands and a simple tool like a paintbrush and create something profound and breathtaking. Some might argue that what Taehyung does is also a form of art, but he swears it’s nothing compared to the pure magic you create. He’s found himself under your spell more than once, entranced by your art.
Even the works you’ve created in the last two years, the things you keep hidden away in your studio, are still quite beautiful—if more haunted. Taehyung knows you’re not selling any art and you haven’t hosted a gallery night in almost three years now. The few times he’s been inside your studio since Yejun, you’ve indulged his curiosity and let him look at the things you’ve worked on.
Taehyung cherishes those private moments you allow him within your space. He uses them as a time to reflect on what life has brought to you and to him. You have a shared experience of losing someone, but it’s clear you’re both working through your pain differently. Your studio, once a bright and vibrant space filled with inspiration and captured moments of love, is now more of a tomb, silent and full of the whisper of death.
Taehyung eases open the door to the columbarium. The motion-activated lights within flicker on and fill the space with a soft yellow glow. It’s better than the typical fluorescent white lights they used to use. Taehyung thinks the bright, sterile lighting is far too reminiscent of a morgue or hospital, not exactly places people should be reminded of when coming to visit their dead loved ones. So, he suggested the change when he took over doing the gardening for the cemetery.
Yejun’s niche is towards the back of the space, near the bottom. You separate yourself from Taehyung, letting the bundle of flowers droop upside down in your hand as you step lightly across the floor. You look like a specter, gliding across holy ground in search of what’s keeping you tied to this plane of existence. In many ways, Taehyung thinks that’s precisely what is happening with you. You’re suspended in time, stuck in a limbo of heartache.
In the two years since Yejun, you haven’t been able to move on, even though that’s exactly what Yejun wanted you to do. Yejun never wanted you to mourn him for long. He told Taehyung there was far too much love for you to give, and you had a heart big enough to love someone else while still holding true to Yejun. What Yejun failed to realize, Taehyung thinks, is that without Yejun, you didn’t want to love again.
Taehyung holds back a few steps, giving you some time to have a private moment as you kneel down in front of Yejun’s niche. The placard covering the niche is engraved with his name, birth and death dates, and a small metal frame that holds a glass engraved likeness of Yejun. It pains Taehyung to see the smiling face and crinkled eyes behind his wireframed glasses. Yejun was his brother in all ways, except for being born to the same parents. That didn’t matter to them, though—still doesn’t matter to Taehyung. They love—loved—each other just as fiercely as if they had been.
“Yejun,” you whimper his name, pressing a hand to the placard, head hanging low. Taehyung watches your shoulders shake with silent sobs, and he can’t take it anymore. He moves across the space and kneels down beside you, ignoring the cold that instantly leeches through the knees of his trousers. Before he can think better of it, he has his arms around you, trying to hold you together…trying to keep your seams from unraveling too fast.
Taehyung coos softly, murmuring as many words of encouragement and solace as can work past his quivering lips, “Shh, it’s okay. I’m here. It’s going to be okay. I promise. He loved you so fiercely. I miss him, too. I’m here for you. Shh, it’s going to be okay.” Over and over again, Taehyung repeats it like a mantra until your sniffles subside, and you slump into his arms, feebly returning his embrace.
Feeling your arms around him is a comfort, one that helps him keep his own tears in check. “Thank you for being here,” you sniff before burying your face in his scarf and inhaling deeply.
“I’m always going to be here for you,” Taehyung offers, smoothing a hand over your hair in what he hopes is a soothing fashion. He watched Yejun console you enough times to have a good idea of what might help. After Sujin was born, you battled postpartum depression for a while, and Taehyung helped wherever he could, giving him those brief glimpses into your emotional turmoil. Yejun always petted your hair and let you ground yourself in his embrace. He never even had to say a word; just let you draw on his strength. So, Taehyung has always tried to emulate that for you whenever you’ve needed him.
You sigh, and Taehyung reluctantly lets you pull away to sit back on your heels. “I’m such a mess. I’m sorry.”
“Hey,” Taehyung says, capturing the side of your face in one of his hands. You sway on your knees; big, round, red-rimmed eyes locked onto his. “Never apologize to me. You’re human, not a mess. Okay?”
“Okay,” you whisper, lips barely moving. You slowly turn, sitting with your back against Yejun’s niche.
“Okay,” Taehyung repeats, and settles in beside you. He barely notices the cold this time as it seeps through the seat of his pants. There are far too many fierce emotions rolling through him to be bothered by the chill.
“Is it okay if I read this now?” you ask after several moments of shared silence.
Taehyung looks over at you, fingering the small envelope attached to the bundle of fresh flowers he brought. He swallows past the thick knot in his throat, worried about you reading it but knowing you need to. Perhaps it’ll be best read when he’s around and not in the solitude of your apartment where you could fall apart without someone there to catch you; Taehyung knows Sujin is staying at your mother’s tonight.
He clears his throat. “Uh, sure, yeah.”
“They really are beautiful,” you say, voice so soft it barely carries to Taehyung. You admire the flowers for a moment, and the anxiety Taehyung had earlier in the shop when he was wrapping them goes away. He was worried that he got the flowers wrong. He knew Yejun always brought you fresh flowers, different types for different occasions. Yejun was all about the spiritual and emotional meaning of flowers, something that Taehyung hardly paid any mind to until after.
Finally, you tug the end of the string that attaches the envelope to the flowers, and you set them to the side. The flap is tucked into the envelope, so you slide it out and remove the tri-folded parchment from within. It looks the same as it did the day Yejun gave it to Taehyung a few weeks before he died. It’s the same as all the other letters waiting in a box under Taehyung’s bed—waiting for the right moment, waiting for you.
“If you need a moment—” Taehyung begins to say, but you hold up a hand to silence him. Slowly, you unfold the paper and smooth it over your thighs. Your eyes flick over the paper, snatching on random words until they hit the name signed at the bottom.
“What is this?” you whisper, yet your voice cuts like steel. “Is this a cruel joke?” You hold the paper up for Taehyung to see. At the top, it reads ‘For if you haven’t moved on’. Taehyung can understand why you might think so.
“N-no. It’s…there’s…” Taehyung pauses and takes a deep breath before trying again. “It’s not a joke. It’s from Yejun.” The look of hurt that ghosts across your face brings a prickling heat behind Taehyung's eyes, and he has to blink them several times to hold his emotions at bay as he explains. “The letter I gave you after the funeral?” He waits until you give him a subtle nod. “This is another he gave me…along with many others.”
“Many others?” you ask, incredulity seeping into your tone.
“He wanted to leave you something, something more than just your memories and heartache. So, he spent a few weeks, before he got bad, writing letters to you. He gave them to me and made me promise I’d give them to you when the time was right. This one—” Taehyung nods toward the letter held between your fingers “—was one I wasn’t sure if I’d have to give you or not. It was one Yejun specifically said to only give you if…well, if you hadn’t started living life again.”
“Hadn’t started living life again?” You balk at that, rearing back from him with an angry look pinching your face.
Taehyung feels like he’s botching this, not explaining it properly to you or something. “Just, just please read it.” Taehyung has no idea what the letter says. He never wanted to invade Yejun’s and your privacy. He’s hoping, though, that maybe the letter might hold some key information to help you understand…to help ease your anger in a way that Taehyung’s words can’t seem to.
You stare at Taehyung for a moment, and he’s certain you’re about to spit in his face and leave him sitting here alone. But, you finally shake your head and sigh, settling back into place and focusing on the paper. Taehyung is sorely tempted to try and read over your shoulder, but he doesn’t want to further your ire. So, he slides a few inches away, opening up a wide, cold gap between the two of you…and waits.
💔💔💔
To the love of my life, For if you haven’t moved on
Hi, baby. I hope this is a letter Tae never has to give you, but if you’re reading this, then that means we’re not doing so well. I say ‘we’, because I’m still there with you. Just like I promised in my other letter. I told Tae to use his discretion on whether to ever give you this or not. He knows you nearly as well as I do, so I trust him. So, if you ever read this, know he doesn’t mean any harm by it…I don’t mean any harm by it. But, baby, you gotta start living again. At this point, I don’t know how much time will have passed since I had to go away, but I do know you can’t let much more time pass. I need you to live, my love. Live for me, live for Sujin…live for yourself. No more standing by while the world continues to spin, you have to spin with it, baby, let it carry you away, and on to better days. Please. Find something that makes you laugh, find something that makes you smile…even if it’s a someone. I know you’ll always love me. There is no doubt about that. But, don’t let that love stop you from living. Let someone in, let someone help…love again, for me. Show the world that it can’t tear you down. Go on a date, go skydiving, go to one of those fancy art galleries in Italy you used to fantasize about…just go, baby. Go and do, and be free. Don’t be afraid…please, don’t be afraid to live.
Love forever,
Your Yejun
The memory of the other letter, albeit a bit fuzzy, drifts through your mind as you sit and try to come to terms with how you feel at this moment. You absently trace the neat scrawl of Yejun’s handwriting covering the page. Don’t be afraid. Are you afraid? Is that it? You’ve never thought of it like that, in terms of being afraid to live. But, if you think about it, you suppose that’s the root of it. You are afraid. Afraid of moving on. What if you do find happiness? What if you do find someone else? Yejun is clear that he’s confident you’ll never forget him, but what if you do?
You don’t want to be sitting somewhere thirty years from now, with your head thrown back, laughing at the joke from some other guy, with Yejun having not crossed your mind in years. It’s not that you don’t want to be happy. You just…you don’t know.
Taehyung is sitting so quietly beside you that if you closed your eyes, you’d think you were alone. Guilt pricks against your heart at how badly you first reacted, the harsh tone and words you lashed at Taehyung where he didn’t deserve it. You clear your throat, drawing the flicker of Taehyung’s eyes in your direction.
“I’m sorry, Tae. I really am. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.” The words are thick on your tongue as you work through the emotions threatening to obliterate your existence. You think you might cry, but give yourself an imaginary pat on the back when you manage to maintain eye contact with Taehyung while successfully blinking back the tears.
Taehyung is quiet for a moment, a muscle in his jaw working, flexing the dark stubble you can see shadowing along his jawline. It’s in this moment that you feel like you see Taehyung in a new light, with added clarity. He looks haggard, tired. You didn’t notice it before, the sunken circles around his eyes or the lack of a clean shave…until now. It’s not fair, you realize, that he has taken care of you so much the last two years when you haven’t even so much as bothered to check on how he is doing.
You’re just about to break the silence with another feeble apology when he smiles, it’s faint, but it’s there. “You don’t need to apologize to me. Yejun and I might have shared a different kind of bond than what you two had, but I have at least an inkling of the keen sting you’re feeling, the one that never quite goes away no matter what you do.” He brings a hand up and presses it to the center of his chest. “The one that slices a little deeper after the sun goes down and everyone else has gone about their lives.”
Chilled goosebumps pop up along your arms, despite the warmth from the added layer of Taehyung’s jacket. That is exactly what it feels like, a lingering sting that won’t go away, one that grows when you’re alone.
You lick your trembling lips, tearing your gaze away from his and focusing back on the letter clutched in your hand. “Yejun,” you whisper. “He—he wants…he wants me to move on.” A soft sob catches in your throat. “But, I can’t do that. How can I do that?”
Your shoulders heave as the emotions you were able to hold at bay before come crashing through the walls you managed to put up. It’s not like the weeping from earlier. That was simply the quiet cries of a mourning wife. This is bone-deep, soul-rending agony that shakes your entire body.
Taehyung pulls you into his arms, and you press your face into the cushioning of his scarf and scream. The sound is muffled, but you can still hear it echoing through the columbarium when all the air finally empties from your lungs. You try to replenish the air, sucking in stilted breaths, but it’s not enough. Panic ensues, your heart launching into a heavy, staccato rhythm as if trying to pound right out of your chest.
“Hey, hey,” Taehyung soothes. “Slow down. Try to breathe slowly.” He pulls you firmly into his lap. You’re heedless to the intimate position your body falls into with your knees on either side of his hips. All you care about is getting air into your lungs. Taehyung holds you by the face, angling yours so you look up into his worried eyes. “Come on, slow. In…out…like that, come on, another one. In and then out.” He breathes with you, exaggerating the way he inhales air through his nose and pushes it back out through his mouth.
His warm breath puffs across your face with each exhale, carrying with it the faintest sharp tinge of mint and the earthy tones of tea. Something that instantly makes you think of home. It helps bring you back to reality, slowing your rampaging heart, and subsiding your shuddering cries.
“I can’t do it,” you mumble.
“You can. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”
“No, no. You don’t—I can’t. It’s…it’s cold in here,” you whisper, pressing a trembling hand over your heart. “No one wants that.”
A soft, sad smile forms on Taehyung’s face as he continues to stare down at you. “Good thing that I know a thing or two about keeping things warm.” He drops his hands from your face and grabs the lapels of his jacket that’s still draped over your shoulders and gives it a tug, pulling it tighter around you. You can’t help but smile, even if it’s a watery one.
“What would I do without you?” you ask, not expecting Taehyung to answer.
“You’d make it.” He sounds so sure. “I know you would, you’d do it. But, I am glad to be here, to help however I can.”
Taehyung doesn’t urge you off of his lap, just allows you to rest there with your cheek pressed over his softly beating heart, finding whatever comfort you can from the proximity of another source of warmth. His words linger there, filling the space between you with a comfortability that you know you’ll never find anywhere else. You don’t say anything else, as there isn’t much else to say. At least, not words you think you could say out loud. Not here, not now.
But, an hour later, as you’re driving home, you decide to try. So, you do something you haven’t done in a while and turn on the radio, letting the music fill the silence from before. It’s a small step, but a step nonetheless; the first of—you hope—many.
The next morning, with the light of a new day spilling through the gap between your bedroom curtains, you decide you feel…good. As you lay in bed last night, full of revelations about how you’re going to start making steps toward Yejun’s desire for you to be happy again, worry began to set in. Worry over whether or not you can do this. Now, though, you feel decidedly different—light, in a way—as you push back the blankets and climb out of bed.
With your mom having taken Sujin to school this morning, it afforded you some time to sleep in, which is something you haven’t done in years. You weren’t sure you were going to, considering how poorly you’ve been sleeping the last couple of years. It feels nice, stretching your arms over your head and not feeling as groggy for once.
There is one thing you want to do before heading to the studio, where you know you’ll probably just piddle around until it’s time to pick up Sujin, but it’s just baby steps for now. It’s not lost on you that your work, the art you create, no matter if you manage to move on or not, might still be something that you’re never able to recover. Yejun wasn’t far off when he joked about being your one true muse, but you try to remain hopeful that you can surprise yourself.
The box in the back of the closet is exactly where you left it almost two years ago. It holds some of your most treasured possessions. Things you’ve held on to dating back as far as your teen years and as recent as two years ago. You kneel in the bottom of your closet and slide the box out from behind the stack of empty shoe boxes you can’t seem to toss out.
It’s a bit faded, the blue exterior, once a brilliant navy, is now more denim in color. You’ve had the box since you were a child, given to you by your father the summer before he split from your mom. That really hurt your family, when he cut himself out of the picture without so much as an apology; he ran off with another woman. It was so hard for you to believe in love after that.
Lifting the small silvered latch, you ease open the box lid and sigh as your eyes land on the folded paper nestled on top. Yejun’s first letter. It’s the last thing you put in this box. The paper still feels crisp in your fingers as you delicately pluck it out and unfold it. You worry at your bottom lip a moment before letting your eyes devour the same words you read once before.
This time, they don’t hurt nearly as much. You still feel that piercing ache, but it’s accompanied by another, fresher feeling—one of hope. What stands out the most, now, though, is the confirmation that there are other letters waiting for you. Yejun says as much himself in this letter, you just hadn’t ever put the dots together, too distracted in your grief.
There are endless possibilities for what those other letters might be for. But, what’s clear is that you won't get another one until you do something to deserve it. Knowing Yejun, you have a few ideas of what those things might be. There is a thrill but also a sense of trepidation as you think about that. You want to move on and be happy again, and in doing so, you know you’ll get the other letters, but there’s also that sense of overwhelming dread.
Where do you begin?
You spent most of your day rearranging and organizing supplies at the studio. But, now that the sun is beyond its zenith and casting longer shadows across your paint-marked studio floor, you feel like you’ve done nothing but waste time. You still haven’t decided where to begin with Yejun’s letters and you’re no closer to coming up with an idea for your next project either.
With frustration coloring your thoughts, you lock up and welcome the reprieve of going and picking Sujin up from school. That’s one part of your life that you do know up from down with.
As you pull through the pick up line, you don’t see Sujin anywhere out front. You spot Mrs. Min ushering a few students to their cars, her friendly face sporting a smile as she does so. Her eye catches yours and she holds up a hand, rushing over to your passenger side window.
“Hi!” she says when you roll it down. “So glad I caught you before you waited too long. Sujin volunteered to help Mr. Kim with his terrarium and it’s taking a bit longer than expected. He should be out in the next fifteen minutes or so, feel free to park in the teacher’s lot or you can wait here if you’d like.”
“Mrs. Min!” a rambunctious gaggle of students call her name, requesting her assistance.
She gives you an apologetic look. “Sorry, duty calls. He shouldn’t be too long!” she calls over her shoulder as she jogs towards the cluster of students beckoning her over. One of the kids has what appears to be a large diorama that they’re having a hard time carrying to their car, even with the assistance of their friends.
“Well, great,” you mumble to yourself, checking your rearview mirror and seeing a long line of cars waiting behind you.
Pulling ahead, you slip around the side of the school and pull into one of the empty teacher spots and cut the engine. You haven’t been inside the school since the parent-teacher meeting at the beginning of the year, so it wouldn’t hurt if you went inside now, it would give you a chance to peek into Sujin’s classrooms and see what he’s been up to. If it’s one thing he loves, it’s learning.
Mr. Kim and Mrs. Min have adjoining classrooms at the end of the hall for Sujin’s grade, a storage and supply closet connecting the two rooms. The door to Mrs. Min’s room is closed but the light is still on inside. You take a quick peek through the view window on the door and see colorful drawings and paper projects hanging on the wall, books scattered across a few tables, and a large container of art supplies opened on her desk. She teaches English, Reading, Art, and History while Namjoon covers Math and Science.
The gym teacher, Mr. Jeon, startles you as he breezes through the double doors at the end of the hall that lead out to the playground. “Oh, hey! Sujin, your mom is here!” he calls, stepping back and propping the door open with the heel of his sneaker.
“Mom!” you hear Sujin’s voice sound from through the open door. “You gotta come see this!”
Mr. Jeon holds the door open for you, his face lit with a pleasant smile. “A future scientist, I’d bet,” Mr. Jeon stage-whispers as you pass him and that makes your own smile blossom further.
“What’s going on, buddy?” you ask, taking in the scene before you.
Namjoon is crouched down beside Sujin, helping him sort through a collection of rocks spread out on a sheet of plastic. There are dozens of them, all various shapes and colors.
Sujin excitedly points out a few of the large rocks. “These would be perfect to create a hiding space!” he loudly proclaims before turning his bright eyes up to you. “Mr. Kim is letting me help him choose the rocks to go into the terrarium. We’re going to get our very own class salamander! Isn’t that cool, Mom? A class dragon!”
A soft chuckle comes from Namjoon as he pivots on his heels and squints up at you, the sun catching on the thick-framed glasses that are slipping down his nose. “We had so much fun yesterday talking about the salamander that was brought into Mrs. Min’s class that I couldn’t resist. I’ve had this old aquarium sitting in my garage for years, it just seems perfect.”
“Wow, yeah, that’s really cool.”
“Sorry for keeping him,” Namjoon suddenly stands, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking contrite. “I didn’t realize the bell had rung until Jungkook said something.” He turns to Sujin who is happily stacking a few of the smaller rocks into a pile. “I think that’s all for today, Sujin. We’ll finish it up tomorrow during class.”
Sujin frowns, his warm brown eyes flicking to Namjoon. “Okay,” he sighs.
“I tell you what, for all your hard work today, how about I let you be creative director during assembly tomorrow? Does that sound okay?”
The frown is quickly replaced with another excited smile. Sujin gives a whoop of delight and slaps his hands together before dusting them off. “Thank you, Mr. Kim, that sounds amazing!”
Seeing the interaction between Namjoon and Sujin gives you an idea, one that you hope you won’t regret. “Go grab your backpack, buddy, I’ll meet you outside Mrs. Min’s room in a second.”
“Yes, ma’am!” Sujin pulls open the door and scampers through, his sneakers squeaking on the tiled floor as he skips down the hall.
“Thank you for that, Namjoon, really. He was so excited about what happened yesterday and now this? He’s been wanting a turtle for a year now, so this will be a good test on whether or not we should get one.”
Namjoon pulls one of his hands out of his pocket and grips the back of his neck as he smiles shyly, his cheeks pinking slightly. “He’s a great kid, loves to learn. Though, turtles are a bit more needy than salamanders. It would also depend on the type of turtle. The standard box turtles are…” Namjoon trails off, his brow pinching as he throws furtive glances your way. “Sorry, you didn’t ask for a science lesson.”
That makes you laugh, which seems to ease the awkward tension in Namjoon. “Sujin isn’t the only one that likes learning.” You don’t intend the words to sound flirty, but they come out that way and you can distinctly tell that Namjoon keys into that.
“Yeah?” he asks, the shyness leeching away by the second.
“Um, yeah. Er, well, I should—” you jerk your thumb over your shoulder toward the door “—Sujin is probably waiting.”
“Oh, yeah, of course.” Namjoon sidesteps over the plastic sheet of rocks and fumbles with the door handle before yanking it open. “Have a good—”
“Are you free Friday night?” you blurt, wincing at the rudeness of interrupting him but knowing if you don’t ask now then you’ll lose your nerve.
“Friday?” he parrots back, eyes wide behind his glasses.
Panic slices through and you immediately want to take it back. “Sorry, that was—I didn’t, it’s not appropriate is it? I’m so sor—”
“I’m free,” he states, the words silencing your backpedaling.
“Oh.” Now that he’s confirmed, you’re not sure what else to say. It’s been so long since you’ve done this.
“Is there something you wanted to do?” Namjoon asks hesitantly, clearly picking up on your trepidation.
You swallow around the choking feeling in your throat, the one that’s ingrained with the idea that you’re still married and still madly in love with another man and this is akin to cheating. “Maybe dinner? Or a late coffee? Um, or…I’m sorry, it’s been so long since I’ve done this.”
Namjoon gives you an easy smile. “Dinner sounds great. Let’s say, seven?”
“Seven is good. How about that new pizza place that opened up near the park, do you know the one?”
“I’ve had my eye on that place for weeks! That sounds perfect.”
Are you really going on a date…with Sujin’s Science teacher? “Okay,” you say, chewing the inside of your cheek as you take a few steps down the hall. “Great.”
“Great,” Namjoon confirms with a smile, his deep dimples making an appearance. “See you then.”
All you can do is nod, not trusting yourself with any more words with the influx of emotions now swirling through you. Sujin bursts through Mrs. Min’s door, his backpack and lunchbox in tow.
“Let’s go!” he trumpets, thrusting his free hand into the air in a fist. “I’ve got some homework to do before I can work on my diagram for the terrarium!”
Namjoon’s soft chuckle carries to you from down the hall as you usher Sujin towards the exit. You can’t help casting one last glance behind you, taking in the way he’s lazily leaning against the doorframe of his classroom. He’s quite handsome, there’s no arguing that.
A giddy feeling adds itself to the uncertain emotions rolling through you. A fluttering in your tummy that you haven’t felt in over seven years. You can’t help but wonder, as you load Sujin into the car, if this is really what Yejun wants for you or are you making a mistake?
💔💔💔
Taehyung
It’s a weird sensation when you expect to feel one emotion but end up feeling another. That’s what Taehyung thinks anyway, as he reads the text message he received from you for the dozenth time. You have a date. With Namjoon.
Taehyung has never met the quirky Science teacher, but he’s heard plenty of stories about him from Sujin. Charming, educated, and completely and utterly perfect for you. And that should make Taehyung happy. Yet, all he can feel is mild annoyance when he thinks about Namjoon sitting across from you at a dinner table making you laugh and smile.
He wants to chalk it up to being overprotective in a brotherly sort of way, but Taehyung knows better. It’s no secret—well maybe it is to you—that Taehyung cares for you deeply. Even before Yejun, Taehyung always had a soft spot for his best friend’s wife. Something that he drunkenly confessed to Yejun once a few years ago. Yejun took it goodnaturedly, something that Taehyung still thinks about to this day, and simply told Taehyung he understood the attraction because hell, who could blame him?
They never talked about it again, until the day Yejun asked Taehyung to take care of you and Sujin—the day he was given a box of letters addressed to you. Yejun had given Taehyung a knowing smile and said something along the lines of fate knowing and that’s why Taehyung already had so much love for you.
He wasn’t sure, at first, if Yejun had ever shared Taehyung’s little secret with you. But, as time went on, it was clear that he hadn’t. That, or, so lost in your grief, you’ve been keenly uninterested in that prospect. But, now, you’re going on a date and Taehyung doesn’t know how to feel about it.
The twinge of jealousy in his chest doesn’t sit right with him. He has no right to feel this way. It’s just something that he can’t seem to shake, hasn’t been able to since you told him about it two days ago. So, instead of expressing that, he forces himself to try and share in your joy.
That’s great. Let me know when you’re home, I have something for you.
A letter perhaps??
Your eager reply makes him smile despite himself. If anything, that helps his mood to improve. The ‘first date’ letter is already sitting on his counter, waiting.
Perhaps. Now stop texting me and go have fun.
There is no reply to that. So, Taehyung waits patiently, phone in hand. Hours pass in a mindless, sluggish way. He’s far too wound up to do anything productive but also has nervous energy that needs to be released. So, Taehyung spends the four hours it takes for you to finally respond by squeaking out haphazard notes on the alto saxophone he’s taken to trying to learn to play.
His phone lights up where it sits on the coffee table and he nearly drops the instrument in his haste to snatch up the device.
I’m home.
That’s all it says and it makes Taehyung frown. Not that he expected you to tell him how the date went over text message, but he was anticipating something more than just those two words. He is startled to realize just how late it is, though, being past eleven already.
Is it too late? I can always just swing by tomorrow.
Sujin is staying with mom. It’s not too late.
Taehyung is contemplating his reply when another text from you pops up that makes him drop everything else and grab his car keys, not caring it’ll be close to midnight by the time he pulls up outside your apartment. It was a knee-jerk reaction to also grab the letter that was sitting beside his keys, but now he’s thinking about whether or not it’s a good idea.
Those thoughts quickly fade as he focuses on the road, intent on reaching your apartment in record time. His phone sits on the passenger seat, still open to your text thread, the single word might as well be an alarm blaring to Taehyung, urging him on faster.
Please.
💔💔💔
As soon as you send the last text message you want to take it back. Not only do you feel whiny, but you know Taehyung will drop everything and come over which makes you feel terrible and like you’re using him.
But, fuck. The date was so horrible all you want to do is crawl into familiar, comforting arms and cry yourself to sleep. You’re about to pour your third glass of wine when there is a sudden knock on the door, followed by it swinging open. Taehyung stands there with your spare key in his hand, eyes wide with concern.
“Are you okay?” he asks, breathless as he clearly sprinted up the stairs to get here and now you feel infinitely worse for it.
You shake your head which earns you a pained sound from Taehyung but you hold up your hand, silencing him. “I’m not shaking my head no as in no I’m not fine, it’s more a I’m such a fool head shake. I’m sorry, Tae. I’m fine. I shouldn’t have said anything, I just—”
“I’m glad you said something. What happened? Do I need to go pay a certain science teacher a visit?” For all his bravado, you know he wouldn’t hesitate if you said yes.
“No, no. It’s not his fault. Well, not entirely. Look, I’m sorry you drove all the way over here.” You discard the empty wine glass in favor of taking a large glug directly from the bottle.
“Hey, hey,” Taehyung says, deftly taking the bottle from your hands before you have the chance to take a second gulp from it. “Stop apologizing and tell me what’s wrong.”
“It was a fucking disaster.”
If Taehyung is surprised by your cussing, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he stills beside you, brow slowly pinching and forming deep furrows between them. “Did he hurt you?” he whispers, but his tone is cold and hard. “I’ll kill him.”
“What? What, oh no, Tae, no. He didn’t hurt me, god no.” You sigh, propping your hip against the lip of the counter and wrapping your arms around your middle. “He was lovely, actually. I was the disaster. Or maybe we were. I don’t know, it was just a terrible night. A terrible idea.”
“Talk to me about it,” Taehyung encourages, his hands landing lightly on your shoulders to steer you toward the couch in the living room.
So, you spend the next hour recounting all the horrid details for him. Everything from the way Namjoon wouldn’t stop talking about rocks and mineralized dirt to the way he tried to kiss you at the end of the night only for you to duck and him to lose his balance, effectively making him face plant into the brick wall of your apartment building.
“See, it was a terrible idea,” you lament, letting out a frustrated sigh.
Taehyung hums softly. “It doesn’t sound like a complete disaster to me. Namjoon was polite, even if he did nothing but talk about his own interests. Did you try changing the subject, or did he ask about you and you gave a dismissive answer?” You give Taehyung an annoyed look. “I’m just saying, you have the tendency to avoid things like that. So, it’s only meant as a means to try and understand. Maybe it can be better next time.”
“There won’t be a next time.” You throw up your hands in defeat. “He said he had a lovely time, but I could see it plain on his face, he was just trying to be nice. He left with a bloody napkin pressed against his mouth for crying out loud!”
“Well, maybe he really—”
“But, most of all,” you continue, speaking over Taehyung, “I didn’t have a good time. I don’t want to do it again. It didn’t make me happy.”
That seems to subdue Taehyung. “Oh,” he says, nodding slowly. “Well, okay, that’s different.”
“I’m broken, defective.”
Taehyung scoffs, giving you a withering look a moment before dragging you into his arms, squeezing you tightly. “You’re not defective. You’re human. All this proves is that maybe the science teacher isn’t the guy for you. Simply just a lack of…chemistry.”
You can’t help but laugh at his bad joke. “You’re terrible,” you say in a lighter tone, meant to tease more than chastise. “But, you’re right, I guess. I just…this was the first date I’ve been on in a long time and it all went so horribly. It’s hard not to think that I somehow messed up, that I’m just…not right, just broken, y’know?” Taehyung’s eyes are soft as you look up at him, trying hard not to let yourself grow too accustomed to the comforting feel of his arms around your shoulders.
“You are perfect, most certainly not broken,” he whispers. You watch from beneath your lashes as a small crease etches across his forehead and you can tell he’s warring with himself over something before he slowly presses a soft kiss against the side of your head. “You just have to give yourself grace. I’m proud of you.” As he says that last part, he gently pulls back, hands resting on your shoulders. His right hand trails down your arm and you feel the soft caress of paper against the back of your hand. “Yejun would be proud of you, too, taking as big of a step as you have, I just know it.”
The envelope is small, but you instantly recognize the shape and feel of the paper. It’s just like the one you got earlier this week—like the one from two years ago. “Should I wait to read it?” you ask, not really expecting an answer.
“I’ll leave if you’d like some privacy.”
And in that moment you realize that’s the last thing you want. “No, please stay. Umm, that is, unless you have something to do.” It’s after midnight, the sour twist of jealousy rears as you think of everything that could possibly take Taehyung away at this hour. You tamp it down, knowing you have no right to keep him here, regardless. “I’m okay, I promise.”
Taehyung’s lip twitches as you wait for him to answer. He shakes his head. “No, I have nothing else to do. I can’t promise I won’t end up crashing on your couch, though,” he says, stifling a yawn in his elbow before lacing his fingers behind his head and stretching out. “I’m here as long as you need me.”
“Thank you,” you whisper, grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch and spreading it out over Taehyung’s legs before curling up on the opposite end of the couch. Taehyung shifts around the blanket with his feet, making sure the other end covers your legs as well.
“Don’t have to thank me,” he sighs sleepily. “I just want to make you happy.”
You’re not sure if he misspoke, because surely he meant only that he wants to see you happy. Because, as it is, him saying he wants to make you happy…well, that does something funny to you. Though, you can probably blame that on the terrible date with Namjoon or the half a bottle of wine you drank. Either way, you can’t help but smile as you look at Taehyung laying on the other end of your couch, eyes closed, and chest rising and falling with deep, even breathing.
You take a moment, running back over the date with Namjoon in your head, fingers idly moving along the edge of the envelope. It started out so nicely, Namjoon standing outside your apartment with a bouquet of flowers. They made your nose itch and your eyes water a bit from how overly fragrant they were—clearly some mass grown clippings from a supermarket—but you smiled anyway, appreciating the gesture.
Dinner was lovely, the new restaurant proving to be worth the drive and money spent. It’s perhaps your own fault for thinking Namjoon might pay for the meal and it didn’t hurt you any to pay for your own, but it felt oddly…impersonal? Less like a date and more like a business meeting or something. You’re not too old to be naive in the sense that women are just as capable of paying for dinner as men, as well as the fact that men shouldn’t hold the complete burden of expense on dates. It’s just…it was unusual and he didn’t even bring it up, simply told the waiter to split the check before it was brought.
It’s not helped by the fact that Namjoon wouldn’t stop talking about work or soil deposits. And perhaps Taehyung was at least half right in the fact that you didn’t put forth a lot of effort to change the subject, but the way you see it, if Namjoon was interested in knowing about you, he would have asked. Though, is that expecting too much? Are you being too harsh? Maybe you’re projecting and Namjoon really wasn’t that bad.
Before you can continue to spiral any further, you force your thoughts to the letter in your hand. Hoping it’ll put your ill heart at ease, you extract the folded parchment and smooth it out.
To the love of my life, For after your first date
Hi, baby. First, I want to say that I love you. Second, I hope he at least made you smile. If he didn’t bring you flowers or even those cheap ones from the supermarket, don’t think too much of it. I’ll let you in on a little guy secret, not all of us are well versed on flora and even less so on women. Even if it didn’t go so well, though I hope it did, you can’t give up. Go on another date, with the same person or someone else, you just can’t stop now. Take as many adventures as you can, do something spontaneous. You never did take that dance class you wanted to a few years ago. Paint, travel, explore the world. Take Sujin to places we never got to go. Just don’t stop, keep turning, even if it’s slowly.
I’m so proud of you, you know? No matter what, I know you’re going to be okay. You’re going to make it. I can’t wait to see all you do. You’re going to be wonderful. You’re amazing, keep shining, baby. I love you so much.
Forever With You,
Your Yejun
Tucking the letter against your heart, you snuggle down in the couch, mind racing. You feel lighter somehow, like Yejun’s words have given you far more affirmation than you thought possible. The terrible date doesn’t seem so disastrous now.
“You okay?”
You startle at the soft question, thinking Taehyung was fast asleep. His eyes are barely cracked open, peering at you over his bent, blanket-covered knees.
“Mm, yeah. I think so,” you say after clearing your throat.
“Good…good,” Taehyung murmurs, his eyes falling shut once more.
“Hey, Tae?”
“Hmm?” His eyebrows raise but he doesn’t open his eyes. You take a moment to truly see him, the soft light from the stand lamp on the other side of the room illuminating him in profile. The soft curve of his cheek, the delicate slope of his nose, and the pouty bow of his lips aren’t new features, but you’re not sure you’ve ever truly paid attention to how breathtakingly handsome he is.
“Will you help me?”
Taehyung’s lips twitch as a mild frown turns down his lips. “Help you?”
“With whatever comes next.”
“Whatever you need, I’m yours,” he mumbles, a soft smile replacing his frown. You watch him for a moment longer, his lips going even softer as the smile fades with sleep. His chest rises and falls, your eyes tracking the motion in the dim lighting until you feel the pull of sleep yourself. Taehyung is the last thing you see before you close your eyes, and for the first time in over two years, you sleep peacefully; with a subtle warmth blooming in your chest where once there was only cold.
Next Chapter⇾ (coming soon!)
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#taehyung x reader#bts taehyung#taehyung smut#taehyung angst#taehyung fluff#taehyung fanfic#taehyung imagines#bts fanfic#bts smut#bts angst#bts fluff#kim taehyung#bts non idol au#bts imagines#bangtanwhq
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Bow For Your High Lady
All smut, no plot. Switch Eris maybe? (idrk what that means also am shit at writing sub Eris - I TRIED THO OK) you know its hard for him to relinquish control ;)
Warnings: all smut, edging :)
Word Count: 7.2K
Eris had a particular affection for replaying the sounds of your moans while he went about his day as High Lord of the Autumn Court.
During training, all he kept seeing was your ass shaking against his hips as he pounded into you from behind. Hell, he nearly jerked himself off during lunch when he started thinking about how tight your pussy was. In the High Lord’s meeting, instead of listening to Rhysand drone on about that Nightmare bullshit, Eris imagined you bouncing on his cock in front of all of them, crying out for your High Lord.
Gods, he couldn’t get enough of you. He’d have you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner - dessert, too. In fact it was for dessert that he usually ate you out until he was satisfied enough to lick the plate clean.
But you were somehow insatiable. Always begging him for more, more, more; you were all over him. In front of the court, watching him sit tall in his throne, long legs spread wide and outstretched before him, you could barely wait until the last Fae had left the room before you’d unbuttoned his pants and sucked him dry. He’d fucked you slowly as you read over his policy changes - he drew lazy circles over your clit until you came, stumbling over the word ‘Autumn’ over and over again. Territorial male.
You even rode him while he had breakfast, and you licked the strawberry jam down his chest while the tea on the tabletop had gone cold.
Almost every night, Eris came to your bedroom run ragged from a day spent as High Lord - between meetings, travel, training, and courtier bullshit, he was absolutely drained. But while the High Lord secretly loved when you babied him, relishing in your time spent relaxing in a hot bath, rubbing his shoulders, and sucking his sweet cock, the male loved to take control of you. There was something about watching you on your knees, holding your ass over his face while you rode his tongue, or watching his cum drip out of your full mouth, that had the male feeling more powerful than when he sat on that godsdamned throne.
You’d spent the day in your bedroom planning your strategy for the upcoming evening. The past few days spent without Eris, leaving you in a cold bed with nothing to do. But you’d already done it all: horseback riding, sword training, baking, even embroidering. The fact of the matter was that you were bored.
And you wanted to try something.
It was the kind of thing you’d seen so rarely in your past however-many-years spent with Eris. A drunken night that left him in near shambles. He begged for you, called out for you - he was just about shaking.
And by the Cauldron, you were determined to make it happen again.
The whole day was spent readying your bedchamber for your mate’s arrival. Being in the Day Court for the past three days would ensure he’d return in a sour mood - perhaps with a slight sunburn, as well. You’d allowed yourself to be pampered; while the high maintenance High Lord was away, there were a few extra hands to dote on you. So you’d been dressed in your laciest nightgown - a short red one - and lathered in the finest salves, the amber and vanilla ones you knew Eris loved so much. The wine had been set out, to which you’d helped yourself to the first glass - something for the nerves, you’d told yourself.
The plan was foolproof, it was designed for the male you knew better than the back of your hand. But one wrong move could set him off, have the roles reversed, and would leave Eris pounding you into the mattress all night long.
Not like that would be such a bad thing.
You had timed it perfectly, you turned on the hot water as soon as your bedroom door opened. You heard him kick the heavy door shut with his boot, the thick chains and locks being drawn over the wood. You knew his routine perfectly, he’d already begun loosening his harness and belts, dropping the sword from his hip to the floor with a heavy clang. He stopped short of the bed, pausing in front of the bathroom door, left ajar just enough so that he could hear the water running.
He leaned forward, peering through the crack between the wall and door. You tried your best to look sultry, calling on the confidence that glass of wine you’d already downed was supposed to give you. You peered up at your mate over the rim of the clear glass, sipping on a bit of the fruity drink as you watched him shift his footing and push the door open. “Getting started without me?” His hands fell to the front of his jacket, beginning to unfasten the buttons that held his many layers together.
You gazed up at him from under your lashes, the closer he got, the more you had to tilt your head upwards to face him. “I grew tired of waiting - ” he stopped so close in front of you that his knuckles brushed your barely clothed chest as he worked down his jacket. “ - My Lord,” you added for good measure.
He smirked, eyeing you up and down like the predator taking in his prey, right before the chase.
A chase he was in for, indeed.
“I couldn’t wait for you,” you whispered, gaze falling as you watched him pluck the wine from your grasp. Your eyes tracked how he abandoned his unbuttoning, taking a large sip of the wine instead. You sensed the switch, picking up where he left off, finishing his jacket and shrugging it from his shoulders, dropping it to the floor behind him. You’d almost cursed the tailor for making it so tight around his broad shoulders - nearly impossible to remove. But when you watched him from afar, dressed in the tightest fitting, most extravagant suits, you’d thanked the tailor personally.
You felt his eyes on you as you continued, fiery gaze washing over you from your hair and face to your dress and cleavage. He let out a soft sight when you removed another layer, watching as your arms pushed your breasts together, moving around just enough for him to peer down the gap the silk left against your smooth skin. You rubbed your legs together, itching to touch the male as you removed his last shirt.
You took the liberty to undo his pants, letting them fall in a pool around his ankles. But you let him kick them away and remove his own boots as you shut off the water and fetched the wine bottle from the counter. You took a hearty swig before you set the spout against Eris’s glass, refilling much more than the appropriate amount. He watched your every move closely, knowing each step you took was calculated.
You smiled broadly before downing another sip straight from the bottle. “Animalistic tonight, are we?” Eris took a drink from the glass, pulling you tight against his hip as the male was now fully naked.
“I thought you liked when I was cheeky.” You could only feign so much innocence.
“A minx is what you are.” His hand fisted at the red lace that barely covered your ass.
“And you’re nothing but a hungry fox.”
His head dipped down to your neck, his breath tickling the outer shell of your ear. “I’ll ravish you like one then.” He nipped the pointed tip of your ear, but you found the strength to refrain from throwing your head back and letting him have his way with attacking your neck.
Instead, you tisked and took a step back, drawing your fingers across your collarbone to drop the thin straps of your gown. “Not tonight, you won’t.”
Eris’s red eyebrows shot up in surprise. But, never a male to argue with an undressing female, he sat back on the edge of the tub and watched as you gracefully lowered your gown, opting to run your hands over your silhouette and across your breasts. He watched with adoration, taking large sips of that delicious faewine. When you’d fully lost your shift, you took two steps closer to him, where you stood directly in front of him between those long legs, with your hands gently placed on either of his shoulders. He tilted his head back to gaze up at you, looking nearly lust drunk already. “And what do you have planned for me tonight?”
Clever male, always knew when you were up to no good. You leaned forward, just to press a kiss to the tip of his nose, ignoring his pursed lips. “You don’t want to know.”
Your mate nearly growled when you stepped back, just as his warm hands found purchase on your hips. But he’d be good and play your little games, letting you work him up - even though he’d been horny the moment he walked into the bedroom, even before he’d seen you in the bathroom wearing the red nightgown.
You took his hands in yours, pulling him up to his feet so you could step into the hot water together. Eris, always unphased by the water, despite the steam that was curling over the surface, made it into the bath first, not without grabbing the wine bottle. You took a second longer, needing to adjust to the heat before you could fully submerge yourself in front of your mate.
You let your back fall against the curve of the tub, relaxing fully as your shoulders fell into the warmth. You dropped your head against the rim of the cool porcelain, huffing a sigh of contentment. By the gods, you could feel his gaze burning into you from across the tub.
You peeked your eyes open, dead on with your assumption, as the male sat across from you with those dark brows furrowed and a slight pout adorning those pink lips of his. Even from where you were sitting across from him, you could see the pink splotched onto his cheeks and nose, where the sun had kissed him a little too much in the Day Court.
“Why are you across from me?” He looked perplexed, so utterly bewildered at why you’d sit that far from him. To be fair, your normal routine was to lay against his chest, let him wrap his arms around you or clutch your breasts. “I want you here.”
You cocked a brow in mock confusion. “On your lap?”
“On my dick.”
He could not be more serious. He thought it was going to be one of those nights. “You can’t get everything you want all the time, Eris.”
You shut your eyes and let your head rest against the edge once more. “When you’re High Lord you can.” His hand found your ankle under the water, and you swore he was burning hotter than normal.
“And what of your High Lady?” You didn’t move, not even a flinch as he dragged your ankle closer to him.
He smirked - you heard it in his voice. “She better know what’s good for her and get over here.”
You were willing to play a bit.
You rose to your knees and waded through the water, stopping just in front of your mate. His legs were bent, spread against the walls of the tub such that your only option was to crawl into his lap. So you hooked your legs around his and straddled his waist, careful to barely touch him as you leaned chest to chest with him. “This is the kind of welcome home I get from you?” He reprimanded, hands falling to your waist.
“I don’t know what you mean, my love,” you whispered, reaching an arm behind him to grab the soap from a stool beside the tub. He watched you with narrowed eyes, eyeing how your hands worked the soap into a lather and began their work across his scarred chest.
“You’re not as coy as you think you are,” he challenged, bending his legs more so his knees poked just out of the water, forcing you onto his lap fully, dick pressed against your ass.
You involuntarily rocked, steadying yourself as you pretended not to feel his cock hardening underneath you. “I think you’ll find later - ” your head dipped forward to press a light kiss in the corner of his jaw, just where it met his neck under his ear. You licked a long stripe up the shell of his ear, leaning in close to whisper the rest of your sentence. “That I am.”
He huffed a shaky sigh, unashamedly grabbing your ass with both hands, trying to rock you against his dick.
But you simply tutted, firmly planting yourself against his toned thighs. You continued across his chest, taking his arm in your hand and cleaning up and down his skin with the other. His eyes were narrowed the whole time, clearly unamused with your current plan of not fucking him. “Not even a kiss hello,” he huffed, releasing an exaggerated sigh when you switched which arm of his you were cleaning.
“Aww my poor baby,” you cooed, unable to hide your smile as you dipped your head down to capture his pouting lips with a kiss. “Better now?”
He shook his head, squeezing your ass and trying to pull you closer. You could stifle your giggle as you met his hungry lips once more. He was clearly more than ready, turning your soft kiss into a smattering of teeth and tongue. You let him have his way with you, just for a moment, since you already knew the state you’d have the poor male in soon enough.
As Eris continued his assault of kisses, you’d abandoned your soap and dragged your hand down his chest. His abdomen convulsed as you slid your fingertip down the center of his stomach and just over the fine hairs that led to the base of his cock. His hands flew up to your face, silently begging for you to stay still and continue on with your path. He tilted your head to the side, and as you gasped for breath, he met you in the middle with another sloppy kiss.
You lifted your hips to let his cock spring up below you to rest on his abs, a strangled sigh escaped the High Lord when you ran just a finger up and down the base. You braced your other hand on his shoulder, nails digging into his hardened skin, resisting the urge to run your wet pussy over his cock instead.
But it was about him and what you’d planned on doing to him later. You wanted him needy.
And by the Cauldron, he already was.
Your fingertip circled the head of his dick and brushed over the slit, earning a gasp from the male. You smirked, the strangled choking sound muffled deep in the back of his throat. He’d smack your ass if he could - the water in the tub doing him no justice - so he opted for a quick prick of fire against your skin.
With a strangled squeal, you lurched forward in his arms, rubbing against him so faintly you had no other choice but to fully stop on his lap and get your momentary fix. He smirked happily, satisfied with his little plan. You rocked your hips just for a moment, his cock nestled so nicely between your legs, brushing against your clit perfectly as you shifted in the water. It slid against your wet cunt perfectly and you could feel your stomach tighten in anticipation.
But with a smack to his chest you lifted, rubbing your pussy for a second before grabbing hold of his dick right at the base. He took a sharp breath through gritted teeth, watchful eyes glazed over in bliss. You worked your hand up and down, palm dragging against the thick vein that ran along the underside of his cock. Your other hand kept you balanced against him, keeping your chests pushed apart so he could watch your breasts bounce as you increased your speed jacking him off.
What started with nothing but a gentle caress, you worked his shaft until you saw his muscles tense and his eyes squeeze shut. You brushed your thumb over the tip of his dick, but before you could coerce him any further, you slowed down your movements.
It was painfully slow, as far as Eris was concerned, so close to just getting off right there in your hand - all gone as you stopped your hand and gripped the base of his dick. “I would have gotten you off after, you know,” he muttered, hands leaving your waist instead finding purchase on either side of the tub, gripping the tub’s rim until his knuckles turned white.
“I know.” You gently kissed his lips, which he felt too angry to return, but in the end he couldn’t refuse. But soon enough you were standing over him, droplets of water falling from every curve and dip of your body. It was moments like that where Eris felt like the luckiest male in the world - to have you all to himself…it almost felt selfish.
But he was a greedy male.
And a confused male, too, as he watched you step out and run a towel over your legs, haphazardly drying yourself enough to slip into the ornate green robe that hung on the wall. You fisted the neck of the wine bottle (Eris never wished he was an inanimate object so badly in his life) and strolled out of the bathroom, offering him a wink. “Come out here,” you’d called from the drawing room.
Eris cursed, pushing himself from the cooling water and creating a bubble of warmth around himself. If he was feeling generous, maybe he’d let you in on his warmth - he knew you had to be freezing in the room with wet hair and barley dry legs. Although he would enjoy watching you shiver, watching your nipples harden as you begged for him to warm you, with his powers or his cock - he’d have to weigh his options.
But as he sauntered into the bedroom, not even bothering to dry himself off, he found you leaning against the back of the couch, robe opened, leaving only the cleavage and a strip of your stomach, all the way down to your cunt, which Eris knew was just begging for him. You gestured to the sofa before you, taking a long sip of wine as the High Lord sat. You planted the bottle in his hand, pulling him backwards, ushering him to lean back against the plush cushion.
With a hearty sigh, he compiled, dropping his head against the back of the couch, letting you run your hands all over his chest. “You need to relax,” you breathed, moving your hands upwards towards his shoulders, kneading away the knots buried deep in his muscles.
His eyes trained carefully upward, he watched your breasts from where you leaned over him. The front of your robe doing nothing to hide anything - he wasn’t sure why you’d even donned it in the first place. He reached his hands up, just grazing the underside of your breasts before you grabbed his hands and placed them back down in his lap. You leaned forward just enough for him to find the perfect open spot to bite the soft flesh, sharp white canines biting into your sensitive breast. He smirked, licking his way over your skin as you straightened, hovering over him once more. “No touching.”
“If you’re going to be doing all this, love, I need a whiskey.”
You smiled down at the High Lord, drawing a hand through his red hair and ruffling it. He watched intently as you crossed the room to the desk, where his liquor was ready and waiting alongside a few empty rock glasses. You offered him the drink as you strolled back to him, trading him for the bottle resting beside his thigh.
With another swig you were back at it, massaging his tender freckled skin. He wanted to pretend he didn’t love it, that he didn’t miss your hands all over him. The High Lord’s meeting that he returned from had really drained him, arguing over policy and having to listen to the useless High Lords brag about their own annoying courts. He wanted nothing more than to come home and have you all over him, doting on his every need, touching him just as you were.
He loosed a sigh, sipping on his whiskey before he set his head back, arms going loose in his lap. With one hand, you took the drink, taking a small sip of the burning liquor before setting it to the side. You continued working out the knots in his shoulders, pressing your fingers into the ridges of his muscles, holding your palm to his hard chest. His rib cage expanded slowly, deflating as your fingertips traced the ridges of his abs, then hitched once more when you traced over the outline of his hip bones.
His hard cock twitched as your finger traced along the underside, stopping just before you could swipe the precum seeping from the tip. He whined, reaching out for your wrist hovering right above his lap. “Please, (Y/N),” he groaned. “Don’t toy with me.”
With a coy smile you rounded the corner of the sofa, dropping before the male, between his parted legs. “Let me have my fun, Eris.” You gazed up at him from under your eyelashes, keeping your brows low to convey the gravity of your plan.
But he leveled your stare, lifting his hand to stroke the side of your face. Warmth leached into your skin, a warning, perhaps. Stop teasing. Eris’s signatured smirk crawled onto those plush lips, as he began fisting his cock in his other hand. “You want to do it yourself?” You whispered, staring at the red tip of his cock, the precum that had been smeared across his entire dick.
He simply shook his head, cupping your jaw, pressing his thumb and fingers against your cheek until your mouth opened in an O. You obliged the male, staring deep into his red eyes as you stuck your tongue out for him.
You swore you could feel your body temperature rise as you watched the shit eating grin sprawl over Eris’s lips. He bit his bottom lip with those perfectly sharp teeth and hissed as he tapped his dick against your wet tongue, slapping the salty tip against your flesh.
You moaned, capturing the tip in your mouth and sucking softly - an act that had the male throwing his head back against the couch. You licked up his dick, leaving a sloppy line of spit falling down to his balls as you dragged your mouth along his cock.
He’d once told you how much he detested masturbating when he’d been called away from the court. It’s not the same - your pretty pussy has spoiled me. It ensured he’d return home from travel pent up and ready to fuck the shit out of you.
But you wanted to take care of him, to have him be the one begging for mercy while you had your way with him. His chest had flushed as his breathing grew shallow, his hand crawling upwards to fist your hair, pulling at it each time your tongue swiped around the head of his cock. “That’s it, (Y/N),” Eris breathed, hips leaving the couch slightly to rut into your mouth. Your thighs squeezed together at his words: the male normally renowned for his hostile demeanor and name calling, with a sweet spot only for you. “Good girl.”
Wait.
He wasn’t supposed to be saying that to you.
You were supposed to be the one dishing out the praise.
While Eris absolutely loved to watch your cheeks flush and cunt tighten around him whenever he offered you praise, there was something about how flustered he got and how desperate the male became when you offered him such affection.
And it was something you were dying to witness.
With a finite pop, you sucked his tip and let it fall from your tongue, meeting the skin of his abdomen with a harsh slap. Eris stifled the shaky breath as he watched you stand.
With not even a second glance, you lifted his nearly empty glass and downed the rest of the whiskey - the last push of liquid confidence to enact the final step of your plan. Your mate watched with nothing more than those drawn brows. He wasn’t sure what had gotten into you - why you’d been pushing everything off, teasing him like so. It wasn’t like you to play such games, and certainly not like him to put up with them.
But you were clearly enjoying yourself, giggling about whatever remaining tricks lied up your sleeve. Eris followed suit, working on the remainder of the wine as he lagged a few steps behind you, watching you like one would a ballet. You strolled to the bed, making a show as you dropped your robe, discarding the glass along the way.
You perched yourself up high on the tall bed, legs spread wide in the manner in which your mate was normally accustomed to. You watched his gaze fall from your eyes to your breasts to your spread cunt, so nicely prepared for the High Lord. “It’s your turn now, my love.”
He smiled, slowing his pace so he could watch the scene unfold before him. “And if I decide to tease you just as you had?”
You ran your hand along the exposed edge of your neck, down between the valley of your breasts, then straight to your cunt. “You won’t.”
Eris cocked a brow, unable to tear his eyes away from you. He smiled at your boldness, though, heart thrumming in his chest - to which he felt warmth down the bond, undoubtedly sent by you. He inched closer, as if stalking a doe, and any movement too loud or too quick would scare you off.
He knelt before you, hands on either of your thighs, spreading you open impossibly farther. From there, he peered up at you, eyes bright with desire, hungry for a taste. Your hand had fallen to his prominent cheekbone, brushing over the thin scar under his eye. “Will you be good for me?” You asked, so quiet you weren’t sure if he had heard you.
But his pointy ears perked, as did his cock, at your gentle tone. Your eyelids nearly shut, watching him drunk with lust, lips parted, begging for a kiss. Eris nodded, a quick up and down, so subtle you would have missed it if not for your hand on his face. “I missed you so much, Eris,” you reminded him, tilting his head up, forcing him to meet your view.
His hands kneaded the flesh of your thighs - gods, he loved touching you. “I missed you, too, (Y/N).” He kissed your calf, working his way up your leg kiss by kiss. Your fingers threaded through his hair, the mess of loose red hair that had been mucked up after the bath. “Missed touching you.” He kissed up your thigh, leaving a warm trail in his wake.
You sighed at the heat. “Will you treat me well, Eris?”
He hummed, low and deep. He sent sparks through the bond, ones that spread from your chest to your spine, from your stomach to your cunt. “Forever, my love.”
“It’s been so long since you’ve touched me.”
His mouth stopped at your pelvis, right where your leg stopped and your pussy began. He smiled, more to himself than you, it had only been three days - four at most. “Let me make it up to you, (Y/N).”
With no further delay, he dove in, starting with a faint kiss to your clit; but the sudden contact had you clutching at his hair. With a few well placed licks, the male began unfolding you.
He ran a wide stripe up your slit with his tongue, tasting everything you had to offer. He worked around your cunt, deciding to trace your opening. His tongue moved in and out, slowly testing the waters. You groaned, missing the attention on your clit and flexed your hips upwards, rocking up and down to fuck yourself on his tongue.
You’d been wet since you’d had the idea to fuck yourself on his dick in the bathtub. But you carried through with your plan, clenching your cunt around absolutely nothing as you touched him, massaged him, sucked his long cock.
Eris’s eyes flitted upwards, watching your chest move with your ragged breaths, and saw how your chest turned pinker the wetter you became. He wound his arms around your thighs, holding you still, nuzzling his face in your pussy. “Please, Eris,” you sighed, pulling at the red stands locked in your fingers. He simply hummed, sending vibrations through your whole body. “Don’t you want to be good for me, my love?”
His cock twitched.
He almost choked out a response, but thought it too terrible to remove himself from you to reply. So instead, he simply adjusted himself, rubbing the tip of his infuriatingly perfect nose against your clit. He continued to press his face against you, slurping at all you had to offer, when you released another strangled cry, laced in nothing but gentleness. “Thank you, Eris.” His name on your lips had him absolutely aching. “Such a good male.”
Gods, had the male been so touch starved, so hungry for praise or even the least bit of acknowledgement his whole life that that got him off? The sweet words on your tongue had him reaching downwards, grasping his throbbing dick.
You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching the male so blissfully at ease pleasing his mate. You noticed his arm shifting, moving up and down as he jerked himself off. It was a sight you normally were desperate to see, but it wasn’t in the plan for your evening. So you pulled yourself away, sliding out of his haphazard one-armed hold, and centered yourself on the large bed. Your legs remained spread as his eyes snapped open, albeit dazed.
“Eris,” you warned, tone low with warning. His red eyes winderned, lips parted in confusion. His arm slowed, eventually stopping as he waited for you to continue. “Come here.”
You moved back a bit more, once he rose to his feet and knelt atop the bed before you. You could make out the glint of precum smeared on his cock and against his abdomen. His dick rocked as he waded across the bed towards you. “Don’t you want to be good for me?” You rested your head against the mountain of pillows, the ones you forbade the staff from changing while he was away - they still smelled of him: cedar and smoke, the fiery bergamot.
He continued until he knelt before you atop the soft mattress, and offered you a nod once you splayed your legs once more. “I’ll be good for you,” he replied, head already sinking lower, offering your clit a wet kiss.
Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head. “Then no touching.” You leaned forward, holding his shoulders until he surrendered his hands up to you, clutching your colder, smaller hands in his. You laid his hands on your breasts, giving the male some reward, in which he thanked you by kneading the soft flesh.
Eris, ever the good soldier, continued on, this time focusing on your clit, lapping at your cunt. “Oh,” you breathed, bucking up against his face. “Good boy, Eris.”
Damn, Eris was at it again, as his cock demanded more attention.
His hips rocked back and forth, his curved cock rubbing against the thick duvet atop the bed. You sat back and watched, your mate desperate for reprieve. His frenzy was contagious, as you wanted nothing more than to have him run his cock over your wet cunt instead of wasting it on the mattress.
Eris’s thumb ran over your pebbled nipple - satisfied with his plan earlier to not share too much warmth with you. But you were burning up, writhing in his arms as his tongue flitted back and forth across your clit, sparingly licking across the hole below, just to mix his spit into your pussy - gods, he wished it were his cum instead.
But you watched as he continued to get himself off, mesmerized by the curve of his strong back and his taught waist, the way his ass flexed and cock dragged against the expensive blanket. You hummed, earning the attention of the depraved male. He kept his face buried in the apex of your thighs, hands clinging for dear life on your chest, as his red eyes darted upward. “No, no, baby.” You traced over his knuckles, then his flexing forearms, down his bulging biceps, across his shoulders, and up to the arch of his brow.
He stuttered and slowed his movements. “Sorry, my love,” he mumbled, placing a thousand kisses around your pelvis and across your lips. “It hurts,” he added, eyes pleading at you, peering just over your mound and stomach. He added one more rut for good measure, shifting the comforter below him.
You hummed, taking his hands in yours and sitting up completely. Eris rose to his knees, towering over you, now on the same playing field as you. You tilted your head upward, neck craned back, and pursed your lips. His hands flew to your cheeks, holding you still as he smashed his lips to yours, kissing you like it’d be the last time. He tasted salty and sweet, he moaned at the thought of you tasting yourself on him.
Your hands went to his chest, letting him only kiss you for a few moments, before you sat back and held your hand out over the bed. He laid on his back, legs splayed, hands open and waiting for you to climb into his lap. You tisked, throwing your leg over his chest. “I said no touching, right, my love?” The male bit his lip, nodding. You took his open hands, holding them above his head, pinning them to the mattress.
You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol that had him flushed, but the male was eager to please. You climbed over him, holding yourself just over his mouth. Eris, despite how much more physical he usually was with you, loved when you rode his face.
Absolutely could not get enough of it.
He met your clit immediately, licking softly, easing you back into it. Long, slow licks had you sinking on your knees, falling more and more, until you were no longer hovering, but seated on your male’s face. He sighed a breath of relief, purely blissed out. He only flexed a few times, forgetting that you restrained his arms with yours, but falling back against the bed quickly each time you murmured a soft, that’s it baby, or, his new personal favorite, good boy.
He was so much stronger than you, so powerful after years of training - a battle hardened soldier and High Lord. You’d seen the strength first hand, when he held you high up, fucking you in the air, chest-to-chest with your mate; he’d flipped this position plenty of times before, so you knew he was really playing into it - not halting and taking control, but letting you have your way with him.
He was a male so beaten and broken, all he needed was a little praise.
And by the god’s you’d give it to him.
“Oh my love,” you cried out, leaning over him and pressing your cunt to his mouth. “Yes, Eris.” You called his name like a prayer, calling out for release as he ate your pussy like it was his only salvation.
You’d cum seeing stars, accompanied by the continuation of Eris’s assault on your sensitive clit. His cheeks had to have been hollow, jaw aching as he didn’t stop, licking up everything you offered him.
Your thighs shook, barely able to keep yourself up. The male was not complaining, clutching your hands in his as you leaned your weight mostly on to his caged arms. Your hips rocked at each lick, unsure if your body would even allow for the continuation of the charge, as Eris surely showed no signs of stopping. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Eris. God’s yes.”
He moaned, hips lifting slightly, cock bouncing against his abdomen. You extended a hand backwards, running your fingers delicately over the underside of his dick. A featherlight touch that had him lifting his hips higher, desperate for any friction your hand would offer him. “Please, please, (Y/N),” he moaned, biceps flexing and hips moving.
You took a shaky breath and wrapped your fist around his cock, moving up and down slowly. “Good job, baby. That’s it, my love.” His tongue jutted in and out of you, relishing in the delicious taste of your cunt, and the delectable feeling of your hand on his aching dick.
He moved faster, hips rocking so much you weren’t even moving your hand, just allowing him to please himself as he wished. “You want to be a good boy?” You whispered, threading your free handed fingers through his hair. Eris groaned, humming in affirmation, as his hands flew up to your thighs, holding onto you for dear life. He nodded vigorously, barely comprehending what you’d asked, caught up in the feeling of your hand on him. His precum had been seeping, begging for release, and had been smeared all over his cock, wet sounds echoed off the walls of the bedroom, spurring on his tongue as he continued fucking it in and out of you. “Then stop humping my hand.”
“It’s aching, (Y/N),” his voice cracked. You could have sworn you saw tears in his eyes as you looked down at him, still buried between your legs.
“Then I’ll kiss it better,” you offered, posing yourself on your knees. He was reluctant to let go of your thighs. Perhaps he thought it was a trick, that you’d just edge him again, leaving him with balls bluer than the oceans of the Summer Court. “I promise I’ll make you feel better, my love.”
You shifted, kneeling beside him as you watched him pull himself up on the bed. Eris nearly winced when you’d returned your hand on his dick, thumb brushing just under the aching head, somehow more precum leaked out. Instead of using your fingers to swipe it over his shaft, like you had so many times before, you licked it up, the wide base of your tongue wiping the slit clean.
Eris released a strangled cry. You felt his cock throb in your hand - you weren’t sure how long he’d last. “Please, (Y/N). I’ve been so good,” he whined, staring at you with crossed brows, pleading for more, more, more.
“You have been good, baby,” you replied, fisting his cock faster. “So good - what do you need, my love? You need my pussy?”
He nodded, biting his bottom lip so hard you were sure he’d summon blood.
“You want me to ride you, baby?”
His fists gripped the sheets and eyes screwed shut; his muscled flexed with restraint. You thought it would be too mean to stop rubbing your fist up and down his cock, but as he vigorously nodded, you had no other choice.
“You did so well for me, my love.” You paused only for a moment, swinging your leg over his lap and holding his cock up against your tight hole.
He nearly came as you sat down, both of you sighed out in bliss as he entered you, and you found yourself fully seated on your mate’s cock. You moved up and down, relishing in the feeling of his long cock hitting deep inside of you, spreading you open perfectly. Your clit brushed against the fine hairs above his cock, earning a wince from you and your overstimulated cunt. Eris’s breathing had run ragged, unable to wait any longer for release.
His hands found gripped your hips, fingertips dug deep into your sides as he lifted you up and down, bouncing you on his cock. You clenched around him - fire ran hot through his blood, and his dick warmed you in such a way that you’d felt cold and empty without him. “Yes, Eris, please, please - so good - ” You were choking on your own words, your legs shaking, you couldn’t even move yourself if you’d tried.
But Eris, clearly unable to hold himself back any longer, clearly didn’t mind, as he fucked up into you with seemingly no avail. Your hands and arms wobbled as you braced yourself on his tensed chest, trying to give yourself some leverage - distance from his skin slapping your own raw.
“That’s it Eris - ” Your thighs came together, cunt clenched around him like a vice as you squeezed your eyes shut and saw nothing but bright light. Your mate didn’t stop, rutting into you like the unfinished male he found himself to be.
“Fuck,” you’d cursed, barely able to open your eyes before Eris flipped you, throwing your back against the mattress and pounding into you. You couldn’t convince yourself to be mad about it. He was a strong male, afterall - impossible to be tamed.
His hand raked down your slide, you swore he’d lit you on fire. His touch left an inferno in his wake, sliding down from your side all the way to your ass and thigh, hitching your leg up behind his back.
Eris fell to his knees, hovering over you, slamming his cock in and out of you, crying out to the mother for release. No - not to the mother. To you.
“Please, (Y/N).” His breathing was unsteady, voice like gravel as he cried out to you. Despite the fact your game had ended, he grunted, waiting for your response - not faltering in his movements for a moment. “Please, please, please - ”
“Yes,” you gasped, hands winding around his neck, curling your arms around him. “Come for me, my love.” His forehead was pressed against your sweaty chest, eyes squeezed shut as his hips stuttered. He met your cunt to the hilt, fully seated inside of you as his come shot out in thick ropes, coating you entirely.
He rocked into you, arms winding between your back and the mattress as he held you impossibly closer. He picked up his forehead only to drop it against yours. Gods, he was burning up. The both of you shared come and sweat, melded into one Fae, as mates and more.
He caught your lips with his, the softest of kisses - he didn’t move, didn’t prod with his tongue, no teeth and no biting. He took a deep breath, committing your sensual scent to memory, as he stilled inside of you.
Eris couldn’t have been more relieved - more satiated.
He looked like he could pass out at any moment. You brushed his red hair back, away from where it had fallen over his brow, and tucked the loose strands behind his ears. He pulled his head away, not without dragging a trail of kisses lazily across your jaw and cheek. His head fell against the mattress, and Eris awkwardly leaned on the plush sheets. Your legs were still a tangled mess, his cock still buried deep inside of you.
You stared into his tired eyes, an embarrassed blush crawling up your cheeks. Your hand fell to his cheek and you caressed his smooth skin until a small smile laced his lips. “You’re such a good male.” Thanks for playing.
He let his head rest fully to the side as his eyes met yours. “That’s why I made you my High Lady.”
#eris vanserra#eris#eris acotar#eris x reader#eris vanserra x reader#eris x you#eris vanserra x you#eris/you#eris/reader#eris vanserra/reader#eris vanserra/you#fanfiction#acotar fanfic
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Young!John Wick x Model!Reader Imagine
Imagine you are the love of John Wick's life...
You meet in Paris when he’s a young man. You spend a mind-blowing night together, and watch the sun rise from Sacré-Coeur. He disappears, and you’re devastated because no one has ever made you feel that way, and you’re certain you’ll never see him again. But throughout the years he keeps finding you as you travel for work. He kisses you silly in the Gamla Stan of Stockholm, makes you cum on his fingers in a dark club in London, and when he leaves you utterly wrecked in Rome you know that you’re in love with this man.
You don’t know exactly what he does for a living, but you’re not stupid. You’ve memorized every inch of his body, and you notice as his collection of scars multiplies over the years. You are half convinced he's a spy, but then there are the tattoos...ominous as they are captivating, they suggest membership in a darker world than the shadows of international espionage. You cannot reconcile it. How can this sweet man, this man who makes you laugh, who brings you joy and such exquisite pleasure, be a part of such a violent occupation? When you finally get up the courage to ask him he just shakes his head, and says it’s better you don’t know before kissing you in that way that utterly scrambles your brain cells.
-It all started in Paris with a broken heel... You nearly fell into traffic, but a strong arm around your waist snatched you back from death.
You hid against his chest for a long moment, even though he was a total stranger, because he felt so safe. You were in Paris for your first Fashion Week—and you were so lost. It’s the 1990s, a dark age in which we didn’t have handheld computers to pleasantly tell us where to go, and we used archaic documents to find our way known as paper maps...And you’d left yours in your hotel accidentally.
You look up to see kind brown eyes fixed down on you. “Are you alright?” You hate to think it, but you are so relieved to hear an American accent. You have been yelled at no less than three times in French that day, and even if you totally deserved it, you're a bit gun shy now.
“Yes. Thank you. Jesus, I...” You look at the traffic barreling by at breakneck speed, a chill running down your spine. “Thank you,” you say again. You look up at him, really look at him, and realize you're in the arms of the most handsome man you've ever seen—and you work in fashion.
“You're welcome.”
He seems as taken by you as you are by him, and for a stretch of long moments you just stand there staring at each other like moon-eyed idiots. He looks down, suddenly shy. It's totally endearing. “Sorry,” he apologizes, releasing you slowly. You teeter on your broken heel, and you can tell he is ready to grab you again if he has to. This protectiveness makes a surprising warmth bloom in your heart.
“Do you...need help getting somewhere?” he asks. You wonder if it’s that obvious you’re lost. Usually you'd be wary of that question from a stranger. You've dealt with so many creeps throughout your life. But somehow you sense that he’s sincere.
“I guess I'd better get back to my hotel.”
Sebastiano was going to kill you. You broke a $600 pair of heels...well maybe Gucci should have made them better, the lazy bastards.
“Can I get you a cab?”
With your broken heel, you guess you’re not hoofing it back. “Sure.” He hails one down, and you’re delighted when he climbs in with you, speaking to the driver in perfect French, bless him.
“Where are we headed?” You give him the name of your hotel, and he repeats it the way it’s supposed to be said. Oh. No wonder the previous drivers gave you such contemptuous looks… You took Spanish in high school, ok? You can read French but have zero experience speaking it.
When you arrive at the hotel your savior thrusts a wad of Francs through the window before you have a chance to even open your purse, and helps you out of the cab. You are totally leaning against his arm more than you have to. You can feel the hard curve of his bicep beneath the fine fabric of his suit, and it makes you a little giddy. Only once you’re safe in the lobby does he seem willing to release you, though somehow your hand has ended up in his, and you find you don’t really want to let go. “Are you doing anything later?” you ask boldly, before he can disappear back into the bustle of Paris and you’ll never find him again.
He pays you a melancholy smile that squeezes your heart for some reason. “Unfortunately, I have to work,” he says. You make a pouty face that draws his attention to your lips. The intensity in those dark eyes is thrilling. “Maybe if I finish early…I could join you?”
You know you grin like an idiot at this suggestion. “I’ll be at the Versace afterparty. I could…have your name put on the list?”
This seems to amuse him for some reason, his mouth twisting in a smirk. “I can find you,” he says, and your heart flutters. In fact, when he presses his lips to your knuckles, your heart attempts to flutter right out of your chest.
He turns to go but you call, “Wait!” He pauses. “What’s your name?”
The smile he pays you is heart stopping. “Jardani,” he answers quietly. “But everyone calls me John.” You bite your lip, nodding, very pleased with this new bit of information, sensing that maybe he’s told you something just for you. “I hope I get to see you later.”
He nods too, touching your cheek lightly. “You will.”
It sounds like a promise.
-You should be beside yourself with excitement because you’re walking your first runway in Paris, and this could be the moment that makes or breaks your career, but the real reason for your nerves is the hope that you’ll see him again.
-The show goes great. You kill it. Sebastiano, your friend and the designer you’d modeled for, can hardly contain himself. But you find you’re just watching the clock ticking down the seconds until later.
-John does find you later. You have a drink, and you dance, and from the adoring way he looks at you, you feel brave enough to ask if he wants to go someplace quieter. You go for a little walk, and even though it’s the wee hours of the morning you feel perfectly safe with this man. He kisses you on the Pont Alexandre, his hands in your hair, and your fingers curl in the lapels of his jacket to hold him to you. You ask if he wants to go back to your hotel, and he agrees. This man looks at you like you are something irreplaceably precious, and you don’t know how you’ll let him go.
-He is strong. In your hotel room he picks you up by your thighs and presses you into the wall, kissing you senseless before carrying you to the bed. His hands are calloused, but he’s so gentle with you. He touches you like you were made for him, like he was born knowing how to make you see stars. He claims you with his hands and his mouth and his big, beautiful cock deep inside you, and you know you’ll never be the same after this. You’ve been disappointed so many times that you almost don’t know how to handle an encounter going this well.
-When he stirs in the blue light of pre-dawn your arms tighten around him. You’re not even awake yet, but you don’t want him to leave. He kisses you behind the ear and you practically purr. “Want to see the second most beautiful sight in Paris?”
“Yes,” you agree.
“Bring your camera.” You’d told him about your interest in photography. Maybe modeling was paying the bills, but you’d actually majored in fine art, and minored in literature. Naturally, your interests make for shit at paying bills.
Sleepily you get dressed. It takes a little longer than usual because you can’t stop kissing each other between pulling on garments. Soft, slow kisses that curl your toes. You sense deep down that every one of them is infused with apology, and goodbye. It breaks your heart, but greedily you’ll take every second with him you can get.He takes you to Sacré-Coeur in the heart of Montmartre, the very roof of Paris. You sit on the steps and watch the sun rise over the city, fiery oranges and pinks painting the sky and rendering the buildings aglow. It truly is beautiful, but you don’t lift your lens to try to capture it. You sit with your arm linked with his, and experience this moment with him as fully as you can. You want to remember everything.
“You didn’t take a picture,” he teases once the sun has cheerfully risen above the horizon.
You pull out the camera and frame him in your lens, his sleepy smile and bed-mussed hair. You feel something shift in your heart as your finger depresses the button. Click. You’re not sure if it’s the camera in your hand, or something settling into place in your heart that has always belonged there.
“Now I have the first most beautiful sight in Paris,” you say.
He laughs at that. “I meant that was you,” he insists, lacing his fingers with yours, kissing the back of your hand. He takes you to breakfast, and you enjoy dark coffee and delectably crafted pastries with your legs tangled together under the table. Afterwards he takes you back to your hotel, and in the gilt-appointed lobby somehow you know what’s coming.
“I have to go,” he says sadly. You actually believe his regret isn’t an act.
You nod, leaning into his large hand on your cheek.
“I’ll never forget you, y/n.”
A shuddering sigh escapes you, and you close your eyes. You are not going to cry.
“Likewise, I promise you.”
You don’t exchange any further information. You know that if it was possible to see him again, he would have offered it to you. There is something mysterious about this man. Something almost…forbidden, and a part of you knows that the little time you stole together was a precious gift.
He kisses you one last time, a passionate, soul-rending thing that leaves you utterly weak in the knees. He says nothing more, pressing his forehead to yours one final time before turning to go. You watch his tall, dark form exit the hotel into the Paris morning, and you know he’s taking a piece of your heart with him as he goes.
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tbc because goddamn this got long...
part deux >>
#john wick#john wick x reader#john wick x you#john wick x y/n#ok so maybe you are helen?#but its written from your pov so you're welcome lol#john wick x helen#keanu reeves#keanu x you#keanu reeves x you#keanu reeves x reader#ernff i just saw JW4 last week#that sunset tho#fucked me up
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Attention — Keegan P. Russ x Fem!OC
Using my queens @moosch's OC Nameless for a trade we made! Go check out her amazing drawing of K-9 as an OC and her art<3
Life works in mysterious ways. One day you're helping kill 500 enemies with your bare hands alongside your comrades, and the next one, you're cuddling up to a tiny brat rescued from no man's land 3 years ago.
Keegan's hold tightened on her, hand running gently up and down on her back as she returned the favor, a much smaller hand tracing lazy circles on his back while they laid next to each other. It was one of the few moments of peace they could get, both as touch starved as they come and with a need to keep someone close.
His mind was blank for once, void of all the gunfire and images of the devastating non-stop war, simply focusing on what another person's warmth felt for once. His lips lightly touched her forehead as his eyes closed, taking a deep breath and holding onto her like a lifeline, making sure not to hurt her. It doesn't take long for Keegan to fall asleep, relaxation taking over his body before he realizes it.
He wakes up to an empty bed, eyebrows furrowing slightly at the realization that Nameless is no longer by his side. He gets out of bed hesitantly, stomach rumbling as he makes his way to the kitchen. A small smirk tugs on his lips as he sees Nameless struggle to get something out of the cabinet, approaching her before anyone else does.
''Hey there, little one... need help with getting this from the top shelf?'' She tenses up when his warm, big hand makes contact with her head, hesitantly turning around to look up at him. All he can do is offer him a smile so kind and nice that instantly makes red flags go off in her head, though she gives him the benefit of the doubt.
Keegan grabs the box she was trying to get, holding it close to her before pulling it out of her reach when she tries to grab it. His smirk grows wider when he sees the expression on her face, a slight grimace mixed in with frustration at his annoying behavior. He only relents once he sees the frown on her face as she she's about to turn around and go tell Elias he's bothering her again.
''Wait.'' The bastard was clearly holding back his laughter at the fuming expression on her face, a few chuckles managing to escape out of his lips even when he was trying not to.
''Here.'' He offered her the box and this time— despite the temptation— didn't pull it away. He noticed the fishing rod hanging over her shoulder and the stare she gave him for a few seconds before grabbing the box. He simply nodded his head, starting to get ready himself, a rifle thrown over his shoulder. What kind of man would he be if he's not there to protect the young girl? Bullshit, he just enjoys being annoying.
He grabbed a book on the way out, knowing he'd just let her fish in peace while he's keeping watch, making sure no enemies sneak on them despite the area being relatively safe.
''Let's go.'' She follows after him, staying quiet the entire walk and simply looking everywhere around her. The area was surrounded by nature, enough to give them privacy and cover in case anything goes down. They make their way to a lake Nameless found on one of her many expeditions, Keegan sitting down near the shoreline as he watches her remove her shoes, soaking her feet in the water.
''A young girl walked to the witness stand.'' He began reading, her attention now on him as she tilted her head, looking at the book he was reading. To Kill A Mockingbird.
''As she raised her hand and swore that the evidence she gave would be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help her God, she seemed somehow fragile-looking,'' He looked at her with a small smirk, making her roll her eyes and a small chuckle to leave his lips as she got knees-deep into the water, trying to find fish she could miraculously catch with her hands.
''but when she sat facing us in the witness chair she became what she was, a thick-bodied girl accustomed to strenuous labor.'' There's a small smile on his face as he reads to her, voice deep and leveled to make it more pleasant.
''In Maycomb County, it was easy to tell when someone bathed regularly, as opposed to yearly—'' He's interrupted by water splashing, baby blue eyes looking up just to see her holding a big carp in her hands, a bright smile on her face as she looked at it as proud as one could be.
''Attagirl!'' He put the book away, leaning closer to ruffle her hair despite her silent protest, a smile on his face matching hers. Not even Keegan being annoying on purpose could ruin her happiness at catching the damn thing on accident.
''C'mon, I'll cook it. Think you can catch another one?'' Keegan's annoying smirk was all the motivation she needed to take the challenge.
#call of duty ghosts keegan#keegan p russ#cod keegan#keegan russ x OC#keegan p. russ x fem!OC#art trade#call of duty#cod ghosts keegan#cod ghost#cod ghosts#keegan russ#keegan p. russ#cod ghosts oc#nameless oc
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◌ ｡ PAC: “I’ll do it later…” - why do you procrastinate and how you can stop it?
hello everyone! welcome to my new reading~
as the heading suggest, today we will look at the reasons behind your “laziness” and you will get some advices on how you can change that.
keep in mind that this is a general reading, so it may or may not resonate with you.
now, let’s pick a pile!
Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3
°｡ Pile 1. ◌
Hello, guys!! so right off the bat I don’t actually see you guys as some slackers. People from this group, on the contrary, may be involved in many different activities at once, or at least they always have many plans in mind. maybe you judge yourself too harshly. another thing i pick up on here is that you were this super talented kids at school and now your family, teachers, colleagues may be expecting too much from you. so you end up always feeling like you are not doing enough.also, it seems like you are doing what others want and do not do things that will satisfy your desires. you may be oppressed by others. I see that some of you may want to work in a political field or maybe something related to judging. or you just want to be somewhere where you will be heard in your opinions will matter your words will have power. so why do you procrastinate? there are several options here. first, you may, actually, take a lot of tasks at once, and then you end up doing a little bit of this a little bit of that, and it doesn’t produce any result. Second, you may come up with many ideas and, but you always put off their implementation until later. In the first case, you are advised to learn to prioritize the right things; make a to-do lists, highlight the most important ones and do them first. In the second case, you need to start bring your ideas to execution as soon as you have them. Don’t put anything off for later, take at least a small action that will help you bring your ideas to life. don’t forget about it, don’t shelve them, it won’t make you any good.
one more thing. some people in this group may have problems with their family. They force you to do something that you don’t want, or even if they don’t force you, they gently persuade you or raise hopes for you that you cannot justify, you don’t want it, but you do it for their sake. And here the cards advise, if possible, to move. You will immediately become more motivated, more active and energetic. All the things that previously seemed difficult to you will be given to you with ease. if this is your problem, moving here will be extremely useful.
°｡ Pile 2. ◌
hi there pile 2! Here I see people who have recently experienced some kind of transformation. It could have moved, changed your study place or a job, perhaps you have suffered a loss or something similar. It may also be that you had to grow up early, when your inner self was not yet ready for it. Now you may be in a state of apathy; you do not have the strength and energy to do anything.
And even if you do want to do something, you just don’t know how. It feels like you are in the fog. Where to go and what to do, how to do it - you lack knowledge and skills. I see here a desire to return to your comfort zone, maybe go back to your childhood, to your family. somewhere you didn’t have to decide and do so much yourself. you want and need some help. and some stability and security. You shouldn't judge or blame yourself if you experience this, it's okay. Change can be difficult to cope with, give yourself time to collect yourself both mentally and physically. But if you have been in this state for a long time, you should think about it and pull yourself together. Otherwise it may drag on for years. The advice to you here is to find people with whom you can grow and develop together. You lack experience and knowledge in some areas right now. And help of people now will be very useful to you. Communicate with those who are more experienced than you, with those who can teach you something. Invite acquaintances at your place of study or work, if possible. Or try to find people with similar goals through social networks, with whom you can somehow collaborate. Yes, I know it's not that easy. But even if you can’t do this, try to find at least some celebrities, bloggers and influencers who would work, for example, in the same field in which you want to work. Find those who you will look up to, those who will inspire you and will be able to provide you with some helpful information and this will already be great.
°｡ Pile 3. ◌
hey, pile 3!! There's a lot of youthful energy here. You guys are most likely extroverts, you are active, like to go for walks, relax, have fun, and do some kind of creative work. And yes, we all love it, but you especially. Like the second group, you lack life experience that can help you achieve what you want. And what else is important, many here may not have any goals or desires at all.
Perhaps you prefer to live in the present and you’re not thinking about the future too much. Yes, it may be good, but here it’s a real problem. some people here simply don’t have enough willpower, you indulge your momentary weaknesses and whims. for some, it’s just a trait of your character that you need to work with and change it, if you want to be more productive. But for others, the lack of motivation and any ambition comes from disappointment in the past. You may have been brought up in strictness; your desire and way of self-expression was not accepted, your dreams and goals were devaluated and you got used to considering yourself a loser. Or maybe, having failed, you have lost faith in yourself. Maybe you had a small failure or maybe a big one, in the end it led you to the fact that you decided not to try at all. It may also be that you are one of those who get disappointed and quit the job they started after it didn’t work out right away. Like, you wanted to draw a masterpiece but it turned out to be doodles, and you start to think that drawing is not for you and give up on it. But it’s wrong. You may be born a genius, but without training and practice you will achieve nothing. Therefore, it is important to study and work and not give up after the first failure, no matter what.
Self-discipline is what you need. Of course there is no miracle advice or potion that will help you deal with this. It will take time but in the end it will be worth it. So create a routine for yourself that will help you be more productive and stick to it. If it’s difficult for you to control yourself, ask others for help, there’s nothing wrong with that. Over time you will succeed, be patient. good luck!
#pick a card#pac#pick a pile#pick a picture#pick a photo#tarot cards#tarot reading#tarot#manifesation#free readings
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lazy makeouts with abby while caressing her bare back under her hoodie>>>>>>>>>
It was around 11am, and Abby was tired.
It was the kind of tired that sank into your bones, heavy as it slowly rotted through the cartilage.
It wasn’t the first time Abby had felt that way.
Back-to-back patrols would do that to a person – especially Abby. The head man’s best solider. First pick. Rottweiler that barked when prompted, and bit on command. But there was no way she was going to go to sleep when she had you sitting pretty on her lap, mouth on hers, kissing you through to 12am.
Time was sacred, and you pair of couldn’t even carve it out of your schedules, always ready to move when called.
Moments like these were a miracle, and Abby didn’t want to miss it due to something silly like sleep.
She’ll sleep when she’s dead.
The springy sofa the pair of you had dragged from the games room and into your apartment creaked from the weight of your bodies.
Abby was pushed against the coffee-splashed arm – your fault – and you crowded her into the corner by straddling her lap, arms hanging loose around the back of her neck.
She tasted like herbal tea and the sweet vanilla from that night’s desert. Her lips were swollen from kissing you – and chewing on, thumbing, when she got nervous.
Would grab her bottom lip and tug at it when she was thinking, and as a result, they always had a puffy and pink sort of look to them. Her cheeks were flushed with the red of her raging blood, rushing through her ears and down her neck as a lazy heat stirred in her belly.
You were dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie, outfits matching, the stadium’s familiar draught clinging to your skin.
Still, she was sweating when you slid a wandering hand down and pushed it beneath the fabric, dragging your flattened palm up the planes of her muscular back.
The all too familiar scars of hers dug into your fingertips, and you traced the biggest one – a thick white number, knotted together by your hasty stitching – then scratched your nails over the mark, knowing the reaction you’d pull out of her.
Like the ending to a story book you’d read a million times before, Abby didn’t stray from the narrative. She hummed into your mouth, tone low and deep, and fisted her big palms at the skin of your hips, using it to tug you closer.
She wanted to fuck you, but she’d collapse before, she was sure of it.
Still, she reached for the band of your sweatpants. You caught her fingers before they could slip under the fabric.
“Lay down for me,” you mumbled against her lips, and Abby was too tired to complain. Too tired to question, and while some small, almost innate part of her bubbled up to say no, you first, the fuzz dispersed as you pressed her into the firm cushions of your sofa, thighs digging against hers, and crotch dragging lowly over hers.
While Abby enjoyed the comfort, she shook her head, readying herself to move.
“I’ll fall asleep if I stay like this for too long.”
But you slid your warm palms under her hoodie, and gently kept her pressed to the couch with your hands on her stomach. Her loose waves cascaded behind her, and it revealed the miscoloured skin of her neck, never healed completely from the wrap of a rope.
You kissed at it, tasting the memory of when you nearly lost her, and Abby quieted, body relaxing back into the pillows. When you moved to kiss her lips again, you noticed her eyes had lulled closed, and her breathing had softened. As if she noticed you watching, she blinked awake. Realising you’d caught her, her face fell.
But you smiled, and kissed her freckled nose, “Sleep, baby, you need it.”
She shook her head.
“Don’t want to miss this.”
“You can dream about it.”
“Sick of dreaming,” she admitted, tone resentful. She shook her head again, and her lips curled up, near snarling as she imagined the days on patrol when she’d close her eyes and try and picture you, but the events of the day reigned supreme.
“On patrol, feels like I spend all my time waiting for the night so I can try and be with you.”
Think about the washy outlines of your face, then be met with the ache of her ankles – the throb of her shooting arm, muscles rattled from the kickback.
You tried to think of the comfort you could offer her. Brushing a stray piece of mousy hair away from her forehead, you traced the furrowed line between her brows, then kissed it gently, whispering, “But this time, I’ll be with you in the morning.”
#abby anderson#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson blurb#abby anderson tlou2#abby anderson imagine#12k blurb night#blurb night april 2023
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