#to the point of tarnishing even the stuff I was so so fucking excited about.
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New 1989 outfit is fugly (I’m so sorry Taylor) but very reminiscent of 1989 tour (when many of the costumes were indeed also fugly 🫡)
The acoustic set outfit is also worse :(
Combining folklore and evermore is meh tbh like I don’t love that at all but I also completely see why it had to be done
I stared at the “this is not Taylor’s Version” t shirt for an embarrassingly long amount of time trying to figure out what on earth she was trying to say and I still think it’s not something that makes much sense out of context/accompanied by a side explanation and it was a weird choice for the shirt lmao.
ttpd set goes incredibly hard 100/10 NO NOTES.
her coming out in that same freaking reputation jumpsuit after changing every other outfit in the show was peak comedy (she’s so funny and we can never talk about that enough)
the entire shape of the show has changed imho so I think it’s fair for fans to be sad about missing last years half or missing this years half or about not getting to see certain songs or about not getting tickets at all to a show that was incredibly difficult and expensive to get tickets to in the first place. It feels like two separate shows. And we are allowed to express sadness or fomo without being dubbed immediately ungrateful/bad fans (obviously there’s a limit and legitimately complaining/getting mad at Taylor for doing her own show how she wants to do it/threatening to no longer go [lol, plenty of fans are in line to take your tickets] is goofy deadass, but)
I do wish she’d just done a separate ttpd tour (even if we had to wait several years and the tour was combined between ttpd and the next potential album) but I can also recognize that I’m mostly saying that because of how desperately I want to hear ttpd songs live and the knowledge I won’t be able to
I also think her deciding to add it now, combined with the general length and scope of eras tour, is evidence that she is planning to take a long break from touring once it’s over (NOT in the weird ‘she’s going to retire to have babies’ way!!! Just in an ‘I think she’s planning to take a touring break’ straightforward way)
I’ve seen some people already taking the transition from but daddy I love him into so high school as confirmation that their theory that the last verse is actually about Travis is correct. But as someone with song literacy, I merely take it as confirmation that Taylor saw the theory, thought it worked fabulously, and enjoys retconning her own songs to aid her own whims and happiness (which is so beyond real of her and also incredibly funny)
Playing so high school as the only anthology song for kicks and giggles was so cute of her she’s down soooo bad for that man
Midnights body suit is hotter than ever and she herself is also hotter than ever
Loml as the surprise song at THAT show after I’d made that post….you have to laugh LOL 🙃
If anyone has near face value tickets for sale for USA or Canada shows later this year I will genuinely offer you my firstborn child plus the money in exchange god bless
#ts#eras tour#Taylor swift#I am so so so so sad about my situation and why I couldn’t be there and losing so much money#esp. because the show I did see last year coincided with a very difficult event#and I do not feel like I was in the right headspace to enjoy being there as much as I wish I had#like it just doesn’t feel fair that horrible shit keeps happening to me over and over#to the point of tarnishing even the stuff I was so so fucking excited about.#but that said. I am trying very very very hard not to let this dampen my enjoyment of the tour/taylor#because I LOVE being an armchair fan!! even when I’m not at the shows I love being on here talking to you guys about it#and I don’t want that to change I don’t want my life to ruin that for me#anyway#seeing too much about yesterday still makes me unbearably sad so I’m not scrolling#I just went on to an update account and read through what happened#I have not watched any videos and idk if I will ever be able to 😭#just wanted to note down my initial thoughts#anyway this is all the annoying posts I would have normally made yesterday all in one annoying post for y’all’s enjoyment 😂
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I did it. I told my husband about a guy at work that I’d fuck. Last night, I showered, dried off, and walked into the bedroom completely naked and laid on the bed. My husband was looking at stuff on his phone, so I reached into my drawer and grabbed one of the larger dildos from my collection. I slowly worked it into my pussy, and between the sounds coming from my sloppy pussy and my subtle moans, I was able to capture my husband’s attention. He got the hint, undressed, and got his face up close to get a front row seat of my pussy devouring my veiny dildo (he loves watching me masturbate).
He asked me why I decided to use that particular dildo, knowing it wasn’t my go-to. This was my chance. I got a pit in my stomach, and my heart started to race, and then I just let it slip out - “Because I’m imagining Jacob from work is fucking me.” My husband’s eyes got as wide as dinner plates, and we was immediately intrigued. Before anything, he needed to know if I was serious, or just talking.
I told him that I was serious.
Answering his question further, I said “Yesterday he had slacks on that were tighter fitting than normal, and he had a bulge. At one point I could see the outline of the head of his cock, and he appears to be large. So I’m imagining this big dildo is really his big fat cock.” My husband was now FULLY erect and jacking off. Then he asked me if I’ve thought about fucking him before, and I told him I’ve had a crush on him for a while, and that when I was masturbating in my office the other evening, I was imagining that Jacob was fucking me on my desk. He then asked me, “Do you really want to fuck him?” I nodded my head up and down, pulled my dildo from my pussy, and started licking and sucking my cum off of it. I told him I wanted to taste my pussy juices on Jacob’s dick. He became very vocal about how he’d love to watch that. I continued fucking myself, closed my eyes, and stated moaning Jacob’s name. My husband got up and positioned himself so I could suck his cock, and in less than a minute he shot a massive load into the back of my throat. I still hadn’t cum yet, but this put me over the edge. My husband’s cum sliding down my throat while he continued to throb in my mouth, added to my dildo stuffed in me as deep as I could take it caused me to squirt all over the bed. My husband has only seen me squirt a couple of times. I told him I couldn’t remember the last time I came that hard, but it was probably when one of my larger ex boyfriends fucked me. This was enough to get my husband to start fucking me.
This dirty talk and imagining that my dildo was my co worker’s cock went on for a couple of hours. I lost count of how many times I came, and my husband came in me two more times… I can’t remember the last time I took three loads of cum in the same night.
This morning my husband asked if I was serious about everything I said last night. I told him I was, which led to us talking about “rules” while we fucked again. I don’t know that I’ll go through with it… I wouldn’t want to tarnish my image at work. But having my husband know of a guy that I have my eye on has him excited, and me slippery between the legs.
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A Broken Heart.
Lee Bodecker x fem!reader
Chapter 2
Chapter warnings: 18+ mentions of death, mentions of sex, cursing, Lee being an ass, angst, meninist behaviors
Chapter summary: You move back home after three years to find your heart still in shambles.
Masterlist
Series Masterlist
Chapter 1 // Chapter 3
3 Years Later
After moving a whole county away, Highland Ohio to be exact, you stayed for quite some time. Your aunt was amazing and the sweetest woman you’d ever known, and living with her was a breeze. She’d even gotten you a job at the auto shop her recently deceased husband left to her, which you loved. Life was good, for a while. You never had a reason to come home until your momma got sick.
For the past year you watched as your momma slowly faded away until the last week of April when she finally passed in her sleep. You were devastated, of course, but not only because of her death. She didn’t have much to her name besides a couple thousand in the bank and the house you’d left so long ago, which she left all to you.
The house was old. White paneling a faint tint of brown, grey shutters that were almost all off their hinges and rust anywhere you looked. It was a fixer upper and there’s no way you could sell it in its current condition. So, you decided to move back to Knockemstiff, just for the time being.
In all honesty, you’d grown to hate that town. Nothing but bad memories and any good memories you’d had were tarnished completely. So, once the house was decent enough to sell, you were out of there and back to the life you’d created in Highland.
Your aunt and you drove together in her pick up truck back to the house after your momma passed. She helped you unload your stuff and take things to the necessary rooms.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay? I can make my famous pancakes. I know you love’em.” She grinned.
“As tempting as that sounds, I’m fine. Please, I insist you go now before it gets dark.” You pull your aunt into a hug, a tight hug.
“I’m gonna miss havin’ you around, kiddo.” She sighed, her breath fanning over your neck.
“It’s only for a few months. I’ll be back to annoying you in no time, oldie.”
“Hey, I’m not old.” She laughed and pointed her finger at you sternly but still in a lighthearted way.
“And I’m not a kid.”
She laughed a little more then sighed, “Well, I guess I’ll head out. Call me if you need anything and don’t forget to go down to Billy’s tomorrow. He’s excited to bring you in.”
You smiled, “How could I forget? I need some sort of income to fix this craphole up.”
You walked your aunt to her car and waved her goodbye as she drove way. Your eyes welled up but you made sure not to cry in front of her or she’d never leave.
Once you went back in, you immediately got to work. Starting in the kitchen, you didn’t have much but a few coffee cups. The house was still occupied with your momma’s things and you were already dreading having to go through it all.
Things started to come together room by room as you worked most of the day away. You cleaned and rearranged things to your liking now that it was your house. It felt almost empowering to do what you want. You’d never lived alone so, in a way, this was an adventure as well.
You took your old room instead of the master, since that’s where your momma passed. It gave you goosebumps just thinking about and you knew you’d never get any sleep if you stayed in there. Your room wasn’t big but it was good enough for now and much better than sleeping in your momma’s death bed, hard pass.
You’d taken a seat on the couch with some tea you’d brewed up earlier that morning. This was the first time you sat down since arriving, and of course there’s a knock at the door.
“Whatever you’re selling, I promise you, I ain’t interested.” You shout, too exhausted to even attempt getting up.
The knocking continued, “Oh, for fucks sake.” You groaned under your breath and stood on your aching feet to tell them to fuck off in person. You opened the door, “did you not hear me the first time. I said-“
“Hi, Y/n” Lee greeted as he removed his hat.
You scoffed, “Can I help you with somethin’, Sheriff?”
Lee stood there, fiddling with the bill of his hat. His belly had gotten a little bigger and his cheeks had gotten a little chubbier, but you couldn’t help the hitch in your throat when his wedding ring caught your eye. Just a basic silver band, nothing special. But it still left a hollow pit in your stomach.
“I-“ he cleared his suddenly dry throat. “I heard you was back in town. Thought I’d come see for ma self if the rumors were true.”
“Welp, here I am. You can go now.”
“Y/n, I-“
“No, Lee, please. I’ve had a long day and I honestly don’t feel like talking to you right now. No, I take that back. I don’t feel like talking to you at all.”
“That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think, doll.” He grins.
“Goodbye, Sheriff.” You shut the door only to hear him holler at you from the other side.
“Still can’t say my name, huh, Doll? Boy, I really did a number on you, didn’t I?” Your heart sank at his words. It seemed your pain was a joke to him this whole time. You’d always pictured him crying alone like you were but clearly that was never the case. Y’all’s relationship didn’t seem one sided until you were the only one hurt by the fall out.
“Welcome home, Y/n.” He said before you heard his boots click against the porch as he left.
You took a deep breath as you backed away from the door. Tears rimmed your eyes and you scoffed aloud to yourself. After three years you still weren’t over him and you knew that. You didn’t know, however, that he’d still have such a hold on you. And by the way he reacted to how sensitive you were towards the situation still didn’t help the ever growing void that ran through your entire loveless body. The only man you ever loved looked at you as if you were a quick fuck and a punchline.
A tear burned against your cheek and you were quick to wipe it away. You swore to yourself that you’d never cry over that man again and you won’t, instead you decided it was time for a much needed bath.
The bath was scolding hot, just how you liked it, and you opened up a bottle of wine as a sort of reward for the work you’d done today. Once the water got cold and the wine ran out, you brushed your hand and teeth and went to bed.
//
The sun beamed down against your skin as you walked to the local auto shop where your aunt had set you up with another job. You were always good with numbers and they desperately needed someone on the books. Your job would be to look at their spending over the last few months and figure out some sort of budget. You did that for your aunt at her shop, so this didn’t worry you at all.
“Hi, you must be Billy.” You greet the owner, “I’m
y/n, Peggy’s niece.”
“Oh, yes. I’m glad you finally made it down.” He beamed, shaking your hand, “How long will you be here for?”
“I’m not sure, actually. Just until I get my house fixed up enough to sell.” You say, retracting your hand from his sweaty one.
“Ah, well as luck would have it, our secretary just quit on us last week, so there’s a position you’ll adjust to right fine.”
You scoffed, “Wait a minute. Did you say secretary?”
“Yeah. You need to get your hearing checked, Honey?” He grinned. What is it with the men in this town?!
“No, I heard you just fine. My problem is that I was supposed to be your Budget Holder, not a damn secretary.” Your face was turning a touch of pink as you became increasingly annoyed.
“That’s a man's job, sweetie. We don’t you blown a fuse tryin’ ta add up all them numbers, now do we?”
“You can’t be serious.” You say flatly.
“Look, it’s the only position we got. Take it or leave it.”
Everything in you wanted to March out of that shop and never go back again. A secretary's position is nothing to frown upon, but to only be offered it because you’re a woman was despicable. Sadly, you needed this job and it would only be for a few months. So, when you told him you’d take the job you swallowed every ounce of respect you had for yourself. Knockemstiff was truly the worst town in America.
“Sounds great. We’ll see you tomorrow for training. There’s no dress code but there are a few things you’ll need to know before starting. I’ll fill you in once we start your training tomorrow.” He shook your hand again, completely ignoring the furious grimace on your face.
“Great. See you tomorrow.” You mumbled, walking away so you didn’t ‘accidentally’ hit your new boss.
//
Before heading home you decided to stop and grab some things for the house. Being sick, your momma didn’t eat much besides soup, and there was an over abundance of vanilla flavored Ovaltine cans littering the kitchen counters, which you hated.
The second the doors opened, all eyes were on you. You even heard a faint gasp coming from the woman at the register. A smirk crept upon your face. These people's lives were so boring that they still aren’t over your breakup that happened so long ago. Rolling your eyes, you grabbed a cart and headed down the produce aisle.
Once you grabbed the vegetables you’d need for a stew, you headed towards the baking aisle. You need the ingredients for an upside down pineapple cake your momma used to make for you as a kid. Your aunt was coming into town on Saturday to lend a hand and celebrate her birthday. You told her to go have fun, but she insisted on spending her special day with you.
As you searched for the baking soda, you heard your name.
“Did you see Y/n’s back in town?” A lady with a high pitched voice whispered.
“I did. I just saw her. Poor thing. She’s probably still caught up on the sheriff. Prolly wish it was her that was on his arm instead of Laura-Jean.”
You rolled your eyes.
“I know it. Wouldn’t you, though? He’s so handsome.” The lady with the high patched voice giggled.
“Oh, hush! Don’t say things like that.” The other lady joined the high pitched one in whispered giggles. “Oh my goodness, here he comes.” She cleared her throat, “Afternoon, Sheriff.”
“Evenin’,Ladies. Y’all behavin’ yourselves?” You could hear the smirk in his voice.
They both giggled and in unison said, “Yes, Sheriff.”
“Oh give me a break.” You grimaced to yourself.
“Heard Y/n’s back in town.” The high pitched one spoke up. Your face burned. Why would they bring you up to him so bluntly like that? Everyone in this town was so unbelievably nosy.
“I- I heard. Actually just went to see her yesterday.” He said, clearing his throat.
“Uh-oh, the misses didn’t like that, I’m sure.” They giggled.
“Oh, no. She didn’t mind. I was just droppin’ by to give her my condolences about her momma dyin’. Then, she slammed the door in my face. I guess she’s still pretty upset with me.” He was pouting, trying to get some sort of sympathy. If you rolled your eyes any harder you thought they’d pop out of your head.
“Oh, you poor thing. Is there anything we can-“
Suddenly the baking soda slipped from your hand and scattered all other the floor in a puff of dust. “Shit, shit, shit.” You whispered to yourself.
“What was that?” One of the ladies asked.
“Excuse me, ladies.” Lee said. You could hear his boots clacking against the floor on there way over to you.
Shit.
You desperately wanted to run away but leaving this mess for someone to clean up wasn’t right, not even with the predicament you found yourself in. “Well, well, well,” Lee mocked as he rounded the corner. “Only here for less than a day and you’re already causin’ trouble.”
“Stay out of this, Bodecker.” You huff, trying to scoop the baking soda back into the card box it spilled from.
“Was you eavesdroppin’, girl?” He asked, kicking the soul of your shoe.
You scoffed, “Oh, please. I could give two shits what you say about me, Bodecker.”
He leaned in close, hovering over your left side. You heard him chuckle which startled you. He was so close. You could feel the familiar heat radiating from his body and smell that familiar cologne. His lips came down close to your ear. He licked them and then whispered, “If ya weren’t eavesdroppin’, how’d ya know I was talkin’ bout you, hm?”
Your eyes shuttered closed as he spoke, feeling his hot breath against your cheek. His deep southern drawl always made you weak. It took you back to those times in the back of the cruiser. He whispered such dirty praises in your ear when you would ride his cock. Those dirty words that could make you cum in seconds.
“You still with me, doll?” You felt him tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.
You flitched and stood up, “I- don’t touch me and stop calling me doll, alright? I really don’t have time for your games today, sheriff, and I’m not even really sure what you’re playin’ at in the first place.”
He smirked, running a thumb across his lip, “Darlin, I think the only thing I ever played was you..”
“I-“ your breath hitched in the back of your throat, “I have to go.” You turned to walk away, leaving the mess you’d made and your cart behind. Your eyes welled up with tears again. You didn’t know the man that stood in front of you. Lee was nothing but good to you when you dated and now he’s the most hateful man you’d ever met. The man you loved had disappeared and there’s nothing you could do to bring him back, no matter how bad you wanted to. A tear stained your cheek as you sped through the aisle. You could hear Lee hollering for you to stop but you wouldn’t this time.
All the heartbreak and sorrow that you’d left behind was creeping its way back in. The sooner you sold the house and got the hell out of there, the better.
Dividers by: @firefly-in-darkness
Taglist: @haydens-moles , @c00lkidvibes , @tcc-gizmachine , @buckysm3talarm , @gogolucky13 , @cryptidcasanova , @heavenlyseb , @writersbuck , @teddy-bearbaby , @bbmommy0902 , @sweetllamaparadise , @thereblogcrusader , @aleemendoza2425-blog , @frostbytebaby , @jessyballet , @emotionallyandphysicallydone , @sarge-barnes-sir , @generalbagelcookieslime , @lady-loki-ren , @dime-piece-xo , @greeneyedblondie44
(Dm me to be added to taglist)
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Just Fine (Aiden/Lambert)
Based on Kashimalin’s 50 Types of Kisses Prompt List
Read on Ao3
Prompt: “Pulling away from a kiss, whispering words of love against each other’s lips.”
Summary:
Today is the day. Lambert knows he should feel more excited at the thought of his boyfriend returning home, to the safety of Lambert’s embrace, but he can’t help the anxiety building inside him and twisting his stomach in a way he doesn’t care for in the least.
Lambert knows that he should be excited, but the sentiment is tarnished by his crippling anxiety, and he feels like the worst boyfriend in the world.
Warnings: mention of amputation, modern AU
“So, today’s the day, huh?” Eskel smirks as he watches Lambert positively vibrating with excitement where he’s sat on a chair opposite Eskel. The coffee shop is mostly empty, save for another couple in the corner exchanging kisses and giggling carelessly as they rejoice in their puppy love. Lambert chose this place because it’s closest to the airport, but admittedly the place isn’t half-bad and the coffee doesn’t taste like piss.
“Stop that, it’s creepy,” Lambert grouses as he stuffs another forkful of chocolate cake into his mouth. When he notices Eskel’s confused frown, Lambert rolls his eyes and adds pointedly, “you, being all excited on my behalf. That’s unnatural. Stop it.”
“Whatever.” Eskel takes a sip of his tea - because Eskel is the kind of person who likes to drink tea for fun - before levelling Lambert with a look that the latter knows all too well. “You’re allowed to be excited about his return, you know? It’s been a year since he-”
“I know,” Lambert quickly interrupts before Eskel has a chance to finish his sentence, “I am excited.”
“Tell your face, then.”
“Shut up, prick.”
“It’s gonna be fine, Lambert.” Eskel reaches across the table to squeeze Lambert’s clammy hand. “I know you’re worried because of his injury, but you’ll both figure it out together. You don’t love him any less for it, right?”
“Of course not,” Lambert snaps in response as he snatches his hand away, angry at the mere suggestion that his feelings for Aiden would disappear for something as superficial as a physical injury, “of course I don’t love him any less for it. It’s just…”
Eskel doesn’t press him, and Lambert is grateful for that. Truth be told, he’s not entirely sure why he feels so anxious at the thought of seeing Aiden again. It’s been a long year without his boyfriend there to warm his bed and his life. Aiden is the life of Lambert’s entire life, and a year without him felt like the longest time. A whole year went by since Aiden was deployed and has been fighting overseas, taking part in a war that has lost all meaning. He missed birthdays, holidays spent with family around a hearty meal, milestone anniversaries... A year of Lambert staying up late at night, calling Aiden whenever his connection permitted it or writing letters to send his boyfriend when speaking to him proved too difficult. A year of Lambert switching the TV or radio on every morning before heading to work, listening for the announcements and hoping he wouldn’t hear Aiden’s name listed among the soldiers that perished as part of this senseless war.
Just over a week ago, Aiden called Lambert from a military hospital overseas a short two days after he was involved in an explosion that cost the lives of hundreds of civilians and soldiers alike. While Aiden survived the blast, he sustained a considerable injury to his leg. The doctors couldn’t save it, Aiden told Lambert over the phone, the leg had to come off. Lambert remembered crying on the phone that night, not because he mourned the loss of Aiden’s leg - they were tears of relief because Aiden came this close to dying in the blast that killed so many people. Lambert came this close to losing the most important person in his life. Come home, baby, Lambert remembered begging Aiden over the phone, I need you to come home.
Today is the day. Lambert knows he should feel more excited at the thought of his boyfriend returning home, to the safety of Lambert’s embrace, but he can’t help the anxiety building inside him and twisting his stomach in a way he doesn’t care for in the least. As a result of the injury he suffered, Aiden had to retire from the military early. While Lambert was happy to have his boyfriend return to him, he knew that Aiden struggled with the thought of retiring at the prime of his career. Not only is he out of a job, but his job prospects are not looking too bright, either. Aiden will have to spend time in physiotherapy, physical rehabilitation courses, counselling… Lambert knows the next months will be tough on his boyfriend.
Lambert knows that he should be excited, but the sentiment is tarnished by his crippling anxiety, and he feels like the worst boyfriend in the world.
“It’s gonna be just fine, Lamb.” Eskel sounds so sure, so confident, that Lambert is almost inclined to believe him. “I promise, brother. You and Aiden will be just fine.”
“I hope you’re right, Kel.”
The drive to the airport is longer than Lambert remembers it being. The car is filled with the sound of heavy rock and heavy metal, the loud emphatic beats and distorted guitar solos washing over Lambert in calming waves. His brothers call him weird for finding this kind of music ‘soothing’, but it works for him, so his brothers can kiss his ass. The sun is beating down on the world below, forcing Lambert to crank up the A/C in the car. He drives along miles of barbed wire, “KEEP OUT” signs and parked aircraft. Lambert checks the time on his dashboard and realises that he’s a whole half an hour early. It isn’t exactly unheard of for soldiers’ families to arrive early and prepare for their loved one’s arrival - either by setting up signs, powdering their noses or getting the children to practice a welcome home song to celebrate their parents’ triumphant return. Lambert usually just waits in the shadows until Aiden comes into view, at which point he pulls his boyfriend close to him so they can get reacquainted away from prying eyes.
Lambert pulls into the airport multistorey parking complex, and thankfully he doesn’t have to spend ages looking for a parking space. As he pulls up into a tight space, Lambert’s heart sinks in his chest. Aiden will probably be travelling in a wheelchair - and he will be using one for a while, at least until he gets his prosthetic leg fitted. There’s no way in hell that Aiden will be able to comfortably step into the car if Lambert stays parked in this spot, but what other choice does he have? He doesn’t have a disabled parking permit yet, but Lambert guesses that’s something they’ll have to think about now. Until then, all he can do is park further away from the door and hope that no one will use the bay next to the passenger side so Aiden has enough space to move comfortably. So that’s precisely what he does. Shit, is Lambert overthinking this? Is he looking for problems where there are none? The last thing he wants is to tiptoe around Aiden’s disability. The last thing he wants is to make Aiden feel like things have changed because he lost his leg.
Shit. Why is he crying now? He should be excited, goddammit.
Lambert angrily wipes the tears and steps out of the car. They’ll be just fine, that’s what Eskel said. Eskel sounded so confident, so sure of himself, but hell, what if he’s wrong? What if Aiden leaves Lambert? What if Aiden pushes Lambert away? It was probably a mistake to read up all those army wives’ blogs and the nightmarish stories about husbands shutting down and falling into depression after sustaining a serious injury. Shit, what if Lambert isn’t good enough? What if Aiden thinks that Lambert is a lousy boyfriend who can’t take well enough care of him?
Deep breaths, Lambert. In, out. In, out. In-
Shit, why are there so many people in this fucking airport? Lambert stands in his usual corner, shying away from the crowds, averting everyone’s eyes as he stares at his phone. He shoots his brothers a text in their group chat - Have I ever told u guys how much I h8 crowds? - hoping that they will understand and distract him from the panic welling up in his chest. As he waits for an answer from either Geralt or Eskel, Lambert switches to his Facebook app and scrolls through his feed. He doesn’t have to wait long until the group chat pings with Geralt’s response.
G: You’ve mentioned it once or twice… or 100
Lambert snorts as he shoots a sassy comeback.
So mentioning it 1 more time won’t hurt. I fucking h8 goddamn crowds.
A quick glance at the arrivals screen tells Lambert that Aiden’s plane landed a few short minutes ago. Not long before they are reunited and able to hug it out in the middle of the airport. At this point, Lambert doesn’t give a shit anymore about what other people think of them. He almost lost Aiden, so he will go on his knees and hug him, wheelchair be damned. Lambert looks around him and sees many families and loved ones itching to welcome the soldiers back. Some of them brought flowers, or the puppy they bought last week as a welcome-home present, and even newborn babies. Lambert wonders if he should have bought Aiden a gift to commemorate the beginning of his retirement. He feels like that would be in bad taste considering Aiden’s feelings on the matter.
The first soldiers start to filter through the door, eyes scanning the room and lighting up when they land on familiar faces. Many people cry tears of joy and relief, others manage to keep a modicum of composure, and some even let out shrill cries of joy as they are finally reunited with the people they love and cherish the most. There is still no sight of Aiden and part of Lambert worries that something happened to him in the week it took the military to organise his repatriation. Feeling the panic well up in him again, Lambert pulls out his phone and opens the group chat window.
L: What if he doesn’t come back?
It doesn’t take long for his phone to vibrate with Eskel’s response.
E: As if he’d pass up an opportunity to come back to his pain in the ass boyfriend.
L: Ass.
G: He’ll come back, Lamb. He’ll come back and he’s not leaving again.
Lambert takes a deep breath as he lets these words run through his mind. Aiden is coming back. He’s coming back. He’s-
“Why, hello there,” a familiar voice breaks through the storm raging in Lambert’s head, “come here often?”
Aiden looks so… so like himself. He’s sporting that familiar cocksure grin and his eyes shimmer with all the emotions he can’t bring himself to voice. His voice sounds so self-assured, even though Lambert knows he’s only a breath away from losing it and crying tears of relief. His hair is slightly longer and Lambert can make out the familiar dark curls he loves so much. Aiden looks so much like his old self that Lambert forgets, for a short minute, that he’s missing the lower half of his left leg entirely.
“Aiden. You’re here.”
“No place I’d rather be.”
Lambert doesn’t feel himself fall to his knees until they hit the solid surface of the airport floor, cracking in protest at the impact. He lunges forward and wraps his arms around Aiden’s middle, squeezing tightly and burying his face in his boyfriend’s stomach. He’s unable to bite back the tears this time, and if Aiden notices that the soft material of his t-shirt is soaked right through, he doesn’t draw attention to it. Instead, he cards his fingers through Lambert’s short hair, softly shushing him and whispering heartfelt reassurances in the air pocket between them.
“I’m here, baby,” Aiden tells him over and over, “I’m back. I’m here, sweetheart. I love you.”
“I missed you,” Lambert hears himself say, “I missed you. I was so scared, Aiden, you don’t understand-”
“I’m here, Lamb. I’m here. You don’t have to be scared, anymore.”
They’ve got so much shit to figure out, Lambert knows. They need to think about all the adjustments they need to make to their lives, all the paperwork they’ll have to fill out, therapy sessions they have to book and medical insurance they need to update. All these things that terrified Lambert a few hours earlier, all these plans that made panic well in him and want to run for the hills… all these worries weighing him down disappear the second Lambert feels Aiden’s arms around him, squeezing him, comforting him.
“I’m not scared,” Lambert assures Aiden, pulling back and straightening up so he can place a soft kiss on Aiden’s lips. They still feel the same against his own, they still taste the same, too. Nothing has changed. Aiden is still Aiden. “Not anymore.”
“Anymore?” There’s a teasing edge in Aiden’s voice, a mocking grin tugging at his lips. “Ah, kitten. You don’t have to worry about a thing. I gotcha. Now shut up and kiss me again.”
Lambert happily obliges Aiden’s request. Their lips slot against each other like they didn’t just spend a year apart. Their kiss is tender and soft at first, but Lambert is quick to deepen it by licking Aiden’s bottom lip. Neither of them cares about the potential eyes on him - nobody is likely to pay attention to them, not when they’re all lost in the joy of being reunited with their own family members. Lambert breaks the kiss briefly to whisper a soft ‘I love you’ to Aiden. His cheeks turn red as he speaks those three words which still feel too intimate to be loudly proclaimed in public, even after all these years. Aiden steals another kiss before reciprocating the sentiment, his breath ghosting over Lambert’s lips and sending a peasant shiver coursing through his body.
They have lots of shit to figure out, but Aiden is here and he’s not going anywhere. Aiden is here, and neither of them has to deal with the situation on their own. They’ll be just fine. Everything will be just fine.
#the witcher#lambert#lambert the witcher#the witcher lambert#aiden#aiden the witcher#the witcher aiden#witcher lambert#witcher aiden#lambert x aiden#aiden x lambert#lambert/aiden#aiden/lambert#lambden#laiden#modern AU#havenwrites
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To Make A Power Couple (knj) | 05
Chapter 5: 30 under 30
previous | masterlist | next
Summary- After a bout of long distance our couple reunites for a weekend where they are both invited to the Forbes 30 under 30 celebration.
word count- 13k 😅
pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader
rating- R
genre- series, slow burn, fluff, smut, strangers2lovers, angst (😱)
warnings- alcohol consumption, softdom!Joon, oral sex (f. receiving), orgasm denial, explicit sex, hints towards depressive mindset, overworking
a.n- new chapter? NEW CHAPTER! AND THERE’S ANGST?! I would like to point out that the Namjoon’s struggles in this chapter are in no way meant to reflect the real Namjoon’s thoughts. This is a fictional character. I use writing as an outlet to work through my own issues so the only headspace they accurately reflect is my own at times. If you relate, or need someone to talk to you, my messages are open - I’m here for you!
Thank you so much for the love you all have given this series so far! I’m loving writing this! Also, I’m still simping for this couple and writing the last two scenes was heartbreaking.
s/o to @moccahobi for beta reading! ily!
Feedback much appreciated! 💕
taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach, @sscheherazadee, @rjsmochii, @jinjccns, @joyful-jimin @sideblogger @agustdpeach @diamonddia-mond
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“So how much do I have to bribe Sejin to let us be in the same room for the Forbes thing?” You settled in bed, wearing one of your boyfriend’s t-shirts, as you Facetimed him a few countries away, his scent making you feel closer to him. To say his comeback had him busy was an understatement. Since the night you two had agreed on labeling your relationship, you only had a few weeks together to cuddle, visit your favorite places, and argue philosophies of the books you were reading, before being thrown into a long-distance relationship. First, your investor meetings had you traveling from San Francisco to Seoul every few weeks and then he set out on the Asian leg of his promotions and mini-tour. The days that you were in the same city were spent staying in bed and ordering take-out (mostly jjajangmyeon to satisfy Namjoon’s cravings), alternating between his apartment and yours.
“Literally nothing? Obviously we’re in the same room! He’s not gonna stop me from staying with my girlfriend who I haven’t seen in like two months.” He looked tired, his brows creased as he massaged his shoulder. Your heart panged wishing you could be there to massage it for him.
“Oh. But what if we get caught?” This was not a new concern. Since day one, you had to ensure that all your dates were private, pretending you both were single at events you were obligated to attend. He had an image to portray and although it sometimes weighed on you that you always had a group of friends with you whenever you went out in public and that you couldn’t hold hands during your outings, you respected him too much to tarnish his career.
“By who? The room service guy?” He rolled his eyes as he now started to punch his shoulders.
“Yes, or fans who hack the security system. I remember some One Direction fans doing that.” You pretended as if some of those fans were not your old university friends. You don’t talk to them anymore, but you have to admit it was hilarious seeing a group of coders hunched over their computers to get access to grainy pictures of Harry Styles walking in the hallways.
“You are so paranoid. We’ll be fine, baby. Trust me.” He dismissed you with a huff as he finally let go of his shoulders and moved on to removing his makeup.
“Also, I didn’t know you told your company.” You both had decided to wait to tell BigHit about your relationship until you were done with this long-distance leg, opting to go in together to announce it. Neither of you wanted to go public so you assumed the meeting was going to be quick and painless.
“I told people who needed to know. Hyung included.” He shrugged.
“Aww, I was looking forward to sneaking around some more!” You joked as he carried his phone to the bathroom to wash his face.
“You’re annoying.” He whined as he put on copious amounts of skincare before dropping on his hotel bed like a brick. Looking at his bare face, his dark circles and tired eyes were much more evident. Tonight’s show must have been really hard on him.
“Aw, do you miss me, baby?” You cooed, hoping to make him laugh. You wanted to hug him, cuddle with him as the little spoon as you usually did when he had a hard day, but all you could do at the moment was make jokes and hope that was enough. Shit, you missed him.
“I always miss you. Phone sex sucks.” He sighed, making himself comfortable among the pillows.
“I knew it! You only like me for the sex.” Just give me one laugh Namjoon, come on. A chuckle, anything!
“Yes and your sexy brain, pretty girl.” He laughed lightly as he stared at you through the screen, the longing in his eyes mirroring yours.
“Hey! That’s my line!” You giggled, relieved to see the crease between his brows finally disappear.
“Fuck! Three more days!” He said excitedly, shaking the phone in his hand making him look more like a crazed anime character with his new pink hair and lopsided glasses than your boyfriend.
“Three more days!” you squealed.
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Your body ached from the thirteen-hour flight as you walked through the lobby of the Metropolitan Detroit hotel with Siwon. Grateful for how organized Namjoon’s company was, you seamlessly checked in and made your way to your suite, dropping off your stuff before meeting Siwon at his to go over the weekend itinerary. Even though you knew he was still in the air since the boys and his flight wasn’t due to land for another five hours, you texted him your safe arrival.
Over the past four months since the gala, Jiyoung’s hard work had started to pay off. You were no longer an unknown entity controlling a company; you were now an “influencer entrepreneur”. Your personal social media, now closely tied to the company, showcasing not only usual photos of you at museums and galleries (courtesy of Namjoon’s camera) but photos of you in boardrooms and speaking at events (courtesy of Siwon’s camera). You had significantly surpassed your corporate accounts in followers over a month ago, with a steady stream coming in after your interview in a fashion magazine of all things (apparently your “street style” was deemed a breath of fresh air for businesswomen) and another stream coming in when you were invited to this year’s class of Forbes 30 under 30.
Although you usually didn’t care for flashy awards such as this, Jiyoung had worked overtime on your nomination and the fact that you were one of the ten people invited from Korea made you pretty happy. The coverage and clout that came with your invite had made you a role model for young female entrepreneurs and that was something you were actually proud of. When you started out there were barely any female mentors and you wanted to change that, give back to other young women running their own ventures. You were excited to meet women around your age who you could relate to this weekend. This was one of the first years that there were this many women invited, making up almost 40%, and your extroverted self was buzzing. Of course, an added bonus was that out of the ten winners from Korea, one was your boyfriend and six were his bandmates, who were slowly but surely becoming your close friends as well. You had been looking forward to this weekend since it was announced a month ago.
Arriving at Siwon’s room you ordered some lunch and planned out the weekend. Tonight was a free night where you could explore the city and the pre-festival activities, although to be honest after almost two months apart, the only thing you’d be exploring tonight was your boyfriend. Tomorrow would be a brunch meet for all the winners followed by a gala in the evening filled with dancing, dinner, and drinks. Then the next day was the festival, which you were still undecided about wanting to attend or not.
“Honestly, it’s up to you. It seems pretty useless to attend if you want to hang out with Namjoon instead.” Siwon offered as you both started on a pro-con list for reasons to attend.
“I don’t know. What if there are some big clients we could get?” Although you missed him dearly, there was no way you could forgive yourself if you let your heart cloud your judgment.
“Yes, we can definitely teach Detroit some English.” Siwon rolled his eyes. “Most of the companies here are tech companies, too small for our caliber. Take a break. This month’s been tough.”
As much as you wanted to disagree with Siwon, he wasn’t wrong. This past month has probably been the toughest month for you in terms of deadlines and stress in the past two years. With the added pressure of maintaining a public persona, your days at the office had stretched from the usual ten hours to sixteen. Most of the time you would be holed up at your desk going through proposals or stuck in meetings with your board as you planned strategies after strategies for expansion into Japan only to get shut down and asked to reassess by one or multiple of them. On top of that, your evenings were booked with conferences where you were invited to speak, given your new spotlight. Most times when you reached home you barely had the energy to change as you fell into bed, falling asleep under ten minutes, usually with Namjoon on the phone as he went through similar motions. You were stressed. Even this short trip was cutting into your time and although you had made good use of the plane’s wifi to work, there was still one proposal that you would have to finish sometime this weekend. Suddenly, the idea of not going to the festival was looking better, so you relent to Siwon as you bid him goodbye and make your way back to your room.
After a quick shower, you decided to work on the proposal before Namjoon arrived but soon as you sat on the desk typing away, the exhaustion of the day caught up with you, and with your head on the table, you drifted to a dreamless sleep.
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Namjoon hadn’t been this excited in a long while. He could barely focus on the conversation in the car as he followed the little blue dot on his phone that was showing the way to the hotel. He had texted you as soon as he landed but you hadn’t responded and he was getting a bit antsy.
“Namjoon! Are you paying attention? Hey! I’m talking to you!” He begrudgingly looked up from his phone to see Jin pouting at him annoyed that he missed his comment. He rolled his eyes at him as he launched into a rant about him never listening to his stories. How Jin had this much energy after a twelve-hour flight was lost on him.
“Let him be. He’s just excited to see Y/N.” Yoongi spoke, not even bothering to open his eyes. Although Namjoon was glad that Yoongi had his back, he wished he hadn’t said anything because suddenly everyone forgot about their long flight and started cooing. He felt himself get annoyed as their teasing increased but he couldn’t help the goofy grin that made its way to his face. He couldn’t be mad at them, they all had people at home they were missing, and he was lucky that unlike them he could get a break from missing you and actually hold you in his arms. He wouldn’t tell you but initially, his company had decided to send in their regrets for this event but he may or may not have convinced them to move the shoot for their new music video that was taking place in Los Angeles to next week so they could be here this weekend. If he had to just see you through his screen for another month he was going to go crazy. If it was up to him he would not leave your side at all the next three days.
Namjoon had to restrain himself from sprinting to his room as soon as he was handed the key card. He barely noticed a few of his members following him as he opened the door to spy you hunched over the desk in the corner of the large room, your laptop displaying multiple pictures of your friends and the both of you together. He figured you were asleep but he couldn’t wait to gently wake you up as he usually did, instead opting for screaming a loud “baby” and running to hug your sleeping form.
What he didn’t expect was for you to wake up so startled that you scream and elbow him in the ribs making him stumble backward till his butt met the floor, much to the entertainment of Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook who were cackling in the background.
“Oh my god! Joon?” He could see your face go from confusion to recognition and then into one of the most beautiful smiles he had seen as your puffy eyes go wide. “Joonie!”
You launched yourself from your chair into his arms as you collapsed on top of him in something between a hug and a cuddle as both of you fell to the floor erupting in giggles. Your scent enveloped him and he could feel himself getting delirious. He didn’t know whether it was the long flight or the long-distance but his heart felt like it was going to explode in his chest. He hadn’t been this happy in a long while.
“I missed you!” He exclaimed as he peppered aggressive pecks on top of your head, his arms around your shoulders tightening, making you squirm and laugh. Above you the maknaes squealed a chorus of “cute!”, cooing loudly.
“I missed you more!” You countered, grinning into his chest, before attempting to get up only to be pulled in tighter after Namjoon’s whine. “Babe, we have the whole weekend!”
“Hey! We missed her too! I want a hug!” Jimin mock yelled at Namjoon, who was now sitting up with you on his lap, still not letting you go.
“No. Get your own Y/N.” He pouts, placing a kiss to your shoulder as you giggle. You hadn’t seen this cute clingy side before and you were sure you had heart eyes. Ignoring his whining you managed to wriggle yourself out of his grip and stood up, greeting the boys. You barely talked for five minutes before Namjoon got impatient again and suggested “as their leader” they go rest after the long flight. You all made plans to meet up for dinner and drinks later that night to properly catch up.
You waved bye to the boys as Namjoon pushed them out the door, ignoring their groans. As soon as the door was closed, he grabbed you by the waist, his lips crashing into yours. The kiss was hungry, all tongues, teeth, and desperation. Your arms went around his neck, fingers pulling at his hair as his hands moved lower, groping your ass in an attempt to pull you even closer, grinding against you and making you moan into the kiss. Soon Namjoon was pinning you against the wall, his hands roaming all over your body as yours do on his.
“Missed my pretty girl,” Namjoon says after a few minutes, beaming and panting, his forehead against yours, his hand caressing your sides. Hearing your favorite nickname makes you melt. Even though his heart is beating a mile a minute, heat encasing his body, he hasn’t felt this relaxed in months. Just being in your presence puts him at ease.
“I really missed you.” You reach up to kiss him again, slower this time allowing yourself to relish him after being deprived for so long. He returns the kiss just as tenderly, making your heart melt in your chest as he cups your face, thumbs running over your cheeks. Even though things had started heated, this is what you truly missed, just being in each other's presence.
When you break the kiss, he lifts you up bridal style as you squeal, your arms automatically going around his neck. He grins at you, making you feel the same butterflies you had when you first met him as you poke his dimples, and he carries you to the bed, gently placing you among the pillows before kissing you again.
He was on top of you as you kissed, and you had almost forgotten what it felt to have him there with you as your tongues wrestled, his weight cushioning you to the mattress. Your hands reached the hem of his shirt, pulling it upwards till he sat on his knees to remove it, looking at you with his signature smirk as you ran your hands up his body, feeling the contours of his muscles, enjoying the way his chest flexed under them. That is until his smirk turned into one of the biggest yawns you had ever witnessed.
“Am I boring you, Joonie?” You saw his face flush as he looked at you sheepishly before leaning back over you and kissing your lips before moving on to your jaw.
“I read somewhere that yawns are just your brain's way of getting more oxygen” He whispered while gently kissing your neck, making you moan, as his hands moved under your shirt, roaming over your chest. “And all my blood’s somewhere else now so it makes sense” He kissed your ear, making you giggle.
“Wow your dirty talk sure has gotten scientific.” You couldn’t hold back your laughter as you processed what he had just said, your moans turning into cackles. He nipped at your ear as he leaned up to look at you, a goofy grin on his face.
“I’m out of practice!” He shrugged and pretended to glare at you but it only lasted a few seconds before he started laughing again because this time it was you who was yawning. Somehow the earlier sexual tension fades into comfort as you both get caught into a yawn loop.
“Maybe we should just nap first” you suggest pulling him back to you as you peck his lips.
“I do feel like I do better when I’m well-rested.” He lays on his side pulling you into him, one arm under your head and one around your waist. You hum in approval as you cozy up into him. You kiss as you slowly doze off, the adrenaline of your reunion wearing off into a soft glow of contentment.
--------------------------------
“Y/N! You have to call me oppa. We’re close enough! Stop calling me Mr. Seokjin!” You rolled your eyes as Jin yelled from the couch across from you. You had hung out with him quite a few times and every time he got drunk he insisted on making you call him by the term of endearment. You didn’t mind the term, in fact you called all your older male friends by it since moving to Korea, but riling up Jin till he started rapping was too funny an opportunity to pass up.
“I can just call you Jin instead if you hate Mr Seokjin?” you smirked as the room around you burst into giggles. You were sitting on the couch in Hoseok’s room, leaning into Namjoon, his arm around your shoulders as he sipped his beer, shaking his head at your antics. After you and Namjoon had become official, you had made it a goal of yours to get to know most of his friends, as he had with yours. Before being separated, you would go out for dinners with your combined friends, and hearing them say they missed you warmed your heart.
The first time you had had drinks together you had introduced them to King’s cup, one of your favorite drinking games from university, and their penchant for petty competitiveness and gross punishments made the game and you a regular occurrence whenever a few of you had free time together. In fact, Jungkook was so into it that he brought a deck of cards on tour to carry on the tradition, even though you had shown him multiple apps that could do the same. The same deck of cards was the one sprawled around the cup filled with Taehyung’s strawberry daiquiri, Siwon’s IPA, and Yoongi’s whiskey on the coffee table. No one was looking forward to pulling the next king card.
The room was a bit crowded, filled with people. Although dinner was just you and the boys catching up, everyone had decided to invite the boys’ stylists and managers, as well as Siwon, for drinks. Hoseok had lost the game of rock, paper, scissors so he was made the begrudging host.
“I’m older than you. You can’t call me just Jin!” he pouted, red cheeks puffed and arms crossed across his chest.
“Yeah by five months!” This is how this argument always went. It was pretty much scripted at this point, as evident by Taehyung who was gleefully mouthing the words before they even came out of your mouths. He’ll argue that Yoongi still called him hyung, you’d retort that’s because Jin forced him and that he was dumb for following through, Yoongi would then interrupt saying that he was still one month older than you and you’d rile up Jin more by calling Yoongi oppa the rest of the night while he would complain about you disrespecting Korean culture and you’d annoy him by telling him that he was disrespecting Canadian culture by not letting you use just his first name. You’d finally relent after seeing him stew only to pick up the same argument the next time you all drank together.
“Stop arguing and pick a card!” Hoseok whined, his sweet demeanor slowly phasing into his zombie persona with each sip of his drink. You loved hanging out with him but the man could not handle his alcohol. Namjoon kind of felt bad that Hobi was the host. He would normally offer him his bed once he inevitably passed out but Namjoon had other plans for his bed once this party was over.
Jin obliged as he picked up a card, careful not to break the circle lest he was forced to down his concoction of mini bar liquor and fruit punch. He picks up a jack, requiring him to start a game of Never Have I Ever.
“Alright, never have I ever disrespected Kim Seokjin.” He said smugly, looking straight at you egging you on to drink. You oblige by raising your glass to him before sipping your drink. To Jin’s annoyance, almost everyone else did that same thing, causing him to grumble.
“Okay that was a boring waste of a question,” Jimin states, rolling his eyes, already drunk sitting on the couch’s arm next to Namjoon. “Let’s make the couples here uncomfortable. Never have I ever had sex in public.”
Surprisingly, Namjoon, you and a stylist are the only ones that drink, making Jimin scream a loud “Kinky!” and prompting Sejin to start his lecture on being careful in the public eye since you were pretty known now and the press would have a field day. Before he can get into the full swing of his chiding, you decide to save you and Namjoon by protesting that you didn’t even hold his hand in public, let alone do anything else, and suddenly the whole atmosphere in the room changed. All eyes went from Namjoon to the stylist, with him glaring at Jimin and her awkwardly downing her drink before leaving. Confused and drunk, you don’t hesitate to ask what’s wrong in the silence that ensues, till it finally dawns on you. That’s the ex he worked with. Oh.
Namjoon could see the gears turning in your head as you put two and two together. He was going to kill Jimin and then himself. Why didn’t he think before taking a sip? He wanted tonight to end with you in his arms, not with you mad at him over something that happened two years ago. However, before he could think of how to make it up to you - maybe he could get you flowers or that whiskey you really like - you laugh, breaking the tension in the room.
“It’s okay guys, everyone has exes!” Still giggling you sip your drink while Jimin apologizes, waving him off. “Why would I get mad at this?”
That caused the room to return back to normal, people resuming the game and enjoying their drinks, but Namjoon was still confused. He knew you were a pretty rational person, but he had just told the whole room of your friends that he fucked his ex in public when you confirmed that he wouldn’t even hold your hand. Surely, he wasn’t wrong to assume that you would be at least a little peeved, but here you were laughing along at Jungkook’s stupid jokes without batting an eyelid. Before he could dwell too long on it, it was your turn to pull a card - pulling a king and effectively ending the game.
“Ewwww. I hate this. Ugh. Is this punishment for introducing you all to this game?” You scrunch your nose sniffing the liquid in the cup as the whole group chants “chug!”. Before you can put it to your lips, Namjoon grabs the cup from you.
“Allow me.” He says as he chugs the drink, almost in one shot, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and barely concealing the shiver that runs through him at the disgusting taste. Half the crowd boos as the other half coos at the chivalrous gesture. You can’t help smiling sweetly at him as he grimaces, and putting your arms around his waist pulling him in an embrace, exclaiming an overly exaggerated “My hero!”.
“Anything for my girl!” He says as he returns your hug and cups your face. “But you gotta suffer the taste with me!”
You’re not one for public displays of affection but you let him pull you into a sloppy kiss, almost forgetting your surroundings as he deepens it, his hand gripping your waist, his tongue tasting mostly of fake strawberry flavoring. Before you can get too carried away, you are interrupted by Yoongi, poking you both and wedging himself between you when you separate.
“Stop being gross! Some of us are single!” He says, making himself comfortable with an annoyed look on his face.
“Awww hyung! They are so cute! Let them be gross!” A drunk Taehyung exclaims, clapping gleefully from the floor where he’s laying in Jungkook’s lap.
“Yeah! Rapmon hyung and Y/N noona are OTP!” Jungkook says as he sips his wine, almost dribbling it down his chin.
“Nobody says OTP anymore, kid.” Yoongi drawls but refuses to move from his position. “Plus I’m the one responsible for this okay? Your OTP would be nothing without me.” He looks smug as he finishes his sentence, sipping his drink and shrugging his shoulders. Namjoon and you exchange a smirk at his remark and proceed to hug your grumpy friend tightly from both sides much to his over the top protests. Namjoon was truly grateful Yoongi had given him the courage to speak to you that night. He can’t even begin to explain the impact you have made on his life. As he looked at you tipsy and giggling, now arguing with Yoongi over which Kanye album was the best, he felt his heart blossom. You were beautiful and he was in love with you. He was sure you weren’t there yet but he promised himself that before this trip was over he was going to tell you without chickening out at the last moment like the last four times.
The party comes to an end soon after. Hoseok almost passes out after his third nursed drink and Sejin has the right mind to kick everyone out while Namjoon and Jimin help Hoseok to his bed, your heart warming as your equally drunk boyfriend forces him to brush his teeth and get into bed. Once Hoseok is firmly tucked in, Namjoon turns to you and squats.
“Get on!” He smiles looking at your direction.
“Joon we’re like two doors down. Get up!” You giggle tipsily at his offer to piggyback you.
“I wanna carry you!” He pouts against your protests, finally giving up on the piggyback after asking three times and instead draping you over his shoulder as you squeal.
“You’re gonna hurt your shoulder!” You scream but your protests go unheard, even as you take the opportunity to smack his butt from your position, a smack that he returns with a warning to behave, but you’re feeling drunk and cheeky as you continue to smack him, even going so far to rap to the beat that you’re making as he unlocks the door to your room.
He tosses you on the bed, pinning your arms above your head before you can wrap them around him and smirks at you, his eyes full of mischief.
“See, I was going to apologize for my ex but you had to go and be a brat.” He kisses you breathless as he takes both your hands in one of his while the other moves under your shirt, raising goosebumps where it caresses your stomach.
“Apologize for what?” You pant as he breaks the kiss, and he can see the confusion on your face.
“You’re not mad?” Now it’s his turn to be confused. He was sure you were mad. He would’ve been mad. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t still thinking about it since the awkward incident.
“That you had sex with your ex-girlfriend while you were dating her?” You do a dramatic gasp as you giggle at his dumbfounded expression.
“Yeah… and told our friends about it.” He looks at you sheepishly, his earlier dominant persona fading into your soft boyfriend. His hand loosens its grip on yours as he searches your eyes for any signs of hurt, his eyebrows scrunched.
“Joon you fuck too good to have been a virgin when we met.” You lift one hand to poke at the crease between his brows as you laugh and he holds your wrist, still gauging your expression.
“You’re not mad? Or… jealous?”
“Pfft. I know I fucking rock your world better than she ever did.” You try your best to do a hair flip from where you lay under him, failing miserably and making him laugh, his head coming to rest on your shoulder.
“That you do, baby. That you do.” He pecks your shoulder as he moves to your neck, kissing up to your jaw before crashing his lips onto yours. As your hands go to his hair, he brings them back over your head, breaking your kiss but not before pulling your lower lip with his teeth, coaxing a moan from you. “But you’re still getting spanked for being a brat.”
You feel his deep voice reverberate through to your core as you look at the lust in his eyes and feel yourself getting wetter. He kisses you again, his arm hooking under your waist as he sits up pulling you with him, making you gasp at the sudden movement, your arms going around his neck. Your heart’s beating a mile a minute as you make out in his lap, grinding slowly. Even after months of being together you still can’t get used to how easily his switch to this persona turns you to putty. You whimper as his hands find your ass, his fingers groping the muscle hard enough to bruise.
“Get naked.” If you were wet before, you’re dripping now as he moves you off his lap, sitting on the edge of the bed, his legs spread and leaning on his elbows. You decide to make a show of it, jumping off the bed and slowly peeling off the layers. You smile over your shoulder as you rid yourself of your bra, watching him smile, eyes hooded, from where he watches relaxed. Your hands find the waistband of your jeans, slowly unbuttoning them and shimmying out of them, swaying your hips as you do. You’re sure you would find this strip tease embarrassing if it weren’t for how his hungry eyes drink in every expanse of new skin exposed. You bend down to give him a view of your ass as you pull your panties off, a thread of your slick following them as they reach the floor, making him groan loudly. “Fuck. I love your ass.”
You drape yourself on his lap, the material of his jeans on your bare skin making you shiver in excitement as he gently caresses your behind. “Since you love rapping so much, how about you rap that song from earlier, hmm?” he says as he lands a loud smack without warning making you jump at the contact. The sharp pain quickly ebbs into pleasure as he soothes the heated skin under his big palm. “What’s your safeword?”
“Rap monster.” That is not your safeword, but your drunk self thinks it’s the funniest joke as you giggle looking up at him to see his face crack into the smallest of smiles before reverting back to a stern look as he glares at you.
“Seems like someone doesn’t want to cum tonight.” He smacks you again, harder this time making you gasp before you’re apologizing at his threat. Namjoon watches your skin bloom red as he tries to maintain his composure. Trust you to make jokes even when he’s spanking you, and trust him for finding it funny.
“Sunflower! It’s sunflower!” you yell as his hand lands yet again on your ass.
“Good girl. Let’s hear that rap then.” You’re not even sure what song you’re mumbling as his hand rains on your behind, each spank making you wetter till you’re dripping down your thighs and whimpering in his hold.
“Fuck so wet for me.” He hisses as his fingers trace your swollen folds making you jump and mewl as he lightly caresses your throbbing clit. He leans down to kiss your red cheeks as he guides you off his lap and on to the bed and lies on top of you, smiling brightly as he cups your face to kiss you, slow and deep. “You did so well, baby. You’re really into ASAP nowadays aren’t you?”
“You really need some variation in the playlists you send me.” You quip, chuckling as you gently guide his face back to yours, kissing him again, his tongue intertwining with yours. As he leans on one elbow, his other hand makes its way down your body, stopping briefly to tweak each nipple and making you moan before he reaches the apex of your thighs. His fingers dip in you slightly gathering your arousal before starting to circle your clit as he starts kissing your neck, suckling the spot he knows makes you go crazy. It’s like your whole body’s on fire as he finds a rhythm, driving you quickly towards the edge, your mind turning blank as eyes squeeze shut and your lips moan his name. You’re so close and he can feel it by how your nails dig into his shoulders, making him hiss, but before you can cum he moves his hand away, bringing his fingers to his lips to clean them as he watches you glare at him with a whine.
“You really think I’ll forget your little joke earlier?” He whispers in your ear, his voice deeper than usual, as he nips on it before sitting up between your legs and unceremoniously stripping himself of his shirt and jeans. The sight of the bulge in his boxers makes your walls clench around nothing as you stare at him open-mouthed. Enjoying your reaction, he places one of your legs on his shoulders, the back of your knee fitting perfectly next to his neck as he moves back towards you, his clothed length pressing against your core as he kisses you again roughly, making you whimper as his hands dig into your sides. Your leg burns as he licks and kisses down your jaw towards your chest, his lips taking a nipple and rolling it around with his tongue. You’re sure he can feel your wetness seep through his boxers as he grinds into you agonizingly slow. He nips at your chest and you moan as your back arches off the bed into him.
He continues his slow kisses down your body turning you into a writhing mess under him. You think you’re going to lose your mind by the time he gets past your hip bone and places a chaste kiss on the top of your mound before moving on to your thigh, nibbling at the sensitive skin and paying no attention to your dripping core making a mess of the sheets.
“Joon please…” you beg, rolling your hips to entice him as he pays you no mind, placing an arm over your hips to halt your motion and continues to mark your other thigh. When he’s fully satisfied by his work, he places his forearms under your thighs and pulls to close to his face, licking a stripe from your entrance to your clit, and it’s like you’ve been electrocuted; your earlier orgasm picking back up as your back arches off the bed, the moan emitting from you barely sounding like yourself. You clasp a hand over your mouth in shock as he continues licking you, his tongue expertly flicking at your clit before he adds two fingers inside you, the digits slipping in easily, making your walls clench around them. He hooks his fingers and you try to grind against him to no success as his arm pushes your hips into the bed. He relishes your moans as your hand moves from your mouth to grasp at the sheets, the sensation too overwhelming as your eyes close shut.
“Are you close baby? You’re not allowed to cum till I tell you.” He feels your walls tighten around his fingers as he thrusts faster and a chant of please rolls off your tongue, your hand twisting in your hair. It’s like every cell in your body is alight from your toes to your scalp, tingling as you get closer, your eyes welling up with pleasure. But once again before you can come undone, his fingers slow down to a snail’s pace, his mouth moving away. The frustration builds in you as a few tears escape and your fists punch the mattress.
He chuckles lightly as he sees you pout under him as, your hair a mess, your lips swollen and red from where you’ve bitten them. God, even glaring at him like you’re gonna kill him, you look adorable. Deciding he’s taught you a lesson, he pulls his dick out of his boxers, his tip swollen and weeping with precum, and lines it towards your entrance, teasing you further and gathering your juices.
Your eyes roll back with pleasure as he replaces his fingers with his cock, filling you to the hilt in one swift motion. The stretch combined with his teasing makes your head hazy and you can hear him groan above you as he puts both your legs in the air together, holding them against his chest with one arm as he thrusts into you slow and hard. You feel so much tighter in this position and he has to bite his lip to ensure he doesn’t cum immediately. You can feel every vein and ridge as he moves slowly and deliberately and even at this pace you are getting close.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck Joonie… please can I cum? Please I’m so close!” You don’t care that you’re yelling, you’re desperate for release, the earlier tension returning tenfold. You vow to break up with him if he denies you one more time. Fortunately for your relationship, he increases his pace, making you see stars.
“Hold it just a little bit longer baby.” His pace doesn’t falter and you’re writhing against him, a babble of incoherent pleas escaping your lips as your hands try to grab on to his forearm. Your legs are shaking and he can feel your walls tighten harder around him. He increases his speed as your pleas get louder.
“Okay baby. Cum for me.” At his command, your vision goes black and it’s like your body is one big nerve ending, pleasure zipping through you making you cry out his name as you spasm in his hold. He fucks you through your orgasm, pace not faltering, till you go limp, your breath coming out in loud pants as he praises you. “That’s my girl. Good job, baby.”
Without changing his speed, he releases your legs, pushing them to your chest as he leans down and kisses you. The new angle hitting your g-spot as you whine in his mouth at the oversensitivity, but instead of slowing down, he picks up his pace yet again, his fingers coming to trace your sensitive clit, making your head buzz with the overwhelming sensation.
“I can’t… Joon,” you whine as he fucks you hard, panting above you and you can tell he’s close.
“Do you want to use your safeword?” He looks at you with concern, slowing down and closely reading your expression. As you tell him no his hips snap into you again, his fingers working faster on your clit as the pain morphs to pleasure. He’s chasing his release, his movements becoming sloppy.
“Cum again baby. I know you can do it. Come on, that’s it” And soon you’re cumming again, screaming as tears fall down your face and your walls clench around him coaxing him to orgasm. He grunts loudly, moaning your name multiple times, as he cums, painting your walls with his seed. His breath is heavy as he pulls out and watches his cum dribble out of you, using two fingers to push it back in before he collapses on the bed next to you.
He brings his fingers up to your lips and you happily suck on them before he pulls them out and kisses you gently, his hand smoothing your hair. He then puts his arm under your head as he cuddles you into his chest, his other arm pulling your waist into him and his legs over yours. You’ve never felt safer or more comfortable than you do tangled up in him.
“Are you okay?” He asks as he gently caresses your cheek, wiping your runny mascara with his thumb, kissing you once again.
“Holy fuck. That was-” Your voice is hoarse from your screaming and you have to clear your throat a couple of times before you can speak clearly. “That was amazing.”
“Phew! The suspense was killing me!” He laughs as you playfully swat at his chest before pulling his lips on yours again. “Shower?”
“Yes. But this time you really have to carry me.” You raise your hands grabbing at the air as he stands up.
“I got you, pretty girl.” He grins widely, his eyes scrunched together, as he kisses your forehead, picking you off the bed and carrying you to the bathroom.
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Namjoon looked at you from across the room as you chatted with a group of women with a cup of coffee, your breakfast untouched, totally distracted from the guy who was telling him about some app he had made for producers to make it easier to find samples. He rarely got to see you in your professional element. In fact, the only time he had seen you was during the gala and he felt an unparalleled surge of pride. The way you carried yourself was so different than when you were with him. It wasn’t that you weren’t relaxed, it was just effortless - the way you seemed to answer each question with confident authority, the way you gave advice to people who were probably much older than you, and especially the way you tried to engage the quieter people of the group in conversations. It reminded him of why you had caught his eye the first time he met you, and why he was so unbelievably whipped for you. Your duality of being goofy and sexy when you were alone to being this serious vat of knowledge and experience when networking made him weak in the knees.
“So do you think you would use it?” The founder of the sampling app, Lee Seungmin, asked Namjoon. Seungmin was one of the other people invited from Korea, and seemed pretty adamant on selling his product to Namjoon. It took all of his energy to rip his gaze away from you.
“I’m sorry I missed that. What did you ask?” Namjoon asked politely, looking at the shorter, much chubbier man dressed in slacks and a shirt with his company logo on it.
“Wouldn’t blame you. She’s really hot, eh?” Seungmin jokes, making Namjoon choke on his coffee. Although he knows that this guy isn’t privy to your relationship, it makes him a little annoyed at his comment. Who was he to dare objectify you?
“Yes, but I don’t think they invite people here for their looks.” He couldn’t help how curt his tone was effectively shutting him up and making him move away to talk to someone else at the table. Namjoon would feel bad if he didn’t overhear him start the conversation about you with the next guy. Rolling his eyes, he went back to his lunch, talking to Hoseok and Yoongi instead, wishing this brunch went by faster than it did. He was getting sick of people trying to suck up to him or sell him something. Someone even had the audacity to ask him to pose with their product so they could put it on their website. He politely declined, but the thinly veiled attempts at using him and his members for clout were starting to get on his nerves. He could feel himself getting stressed, much like he did when he had to pretend to be perfect for the media, and falling back into the headspace of last month - cloudy, annoyed, and frustrated.
He was relieved when you both arrived back at the room. You held his arm for support as you leaned down to take off your heels, sighing in relief as your feet met the flat ground.
“God, I hate heels!” You exclaimed as you walked over, dropping your blazer on the ground and plopped on the couch, stretching your feet. Namjoon picked your jacket off the floor, draping it on one of the chairs as he situated himself on the other end of the sofa, putting your legs on his lap.
“Since when do you wear heels?” He asks, as he gently runs his hands over your legs, covered with a pair of navy pants.
“Too often nowadays.” You sigh with your eyes closed, and he can’t help frowning at how tired you looked, even though it’s barely past 2 pm.
“You okay, babe? Want a foot massage?” He doesn’t wait for your answer as he starts massaging your feet, smiling as you relax further into the couch.
“Shit. That feels good!” You moan as you relax. “You know they don’t give Grammys for best boyfriends, right?”
“I’m offended you think I’m doing this for something as dumb as a Grammy.” He chuckles, but he knows you well enough to know that you’re avoiding the topic. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“It’s nothing. I’m just stressed about work. Don’t worry about it.” At that you pull your legs from under his hands, walking over to grab your laptop before sitting on the couch again to start working, eyebrows furrowed as soon as you open the your laptop. Namjoon knows he shouldn’t take your dismissal to heart, but he can’t help be taken aback by your lack of openness. You always told him what was on your mind and he felt his heart ache that you didn’t want to share what was wrong. He couldn’t fully blame you. He hadn’t told you about his stresses this past month either, but unlike him, you hadn’t even noticed he was stressed. It made him a little wary, bringing his thoughts back to last night and your reaction, or lack thereof, to meeting his ex. As much as it hurt him, maybe he was right after all. You didn’t love him yet. He sighed as he got up to grab his book, hoping that he could change that before leaving you tomorrow night.
After a few hours of work, you started to feel bad for ignoring Namjoon. He had been nothing but doting this whole trip and you hated yourself for having to finish this proposal this weekend. Feeling your brain turn to mush anyways, you stretched as you walked over to your suitcase, watching your boyfriend who seemed to be engrossed in his book. You felt guilty for avoiding his questions earlier but you could see how stressed he had been from work - in fact, Jungkook had told you as much over text last week when he shared that Namjoon had collapsed during rehearsals. You knew how empathetic he was, he would do everything in his power to make sure you were feeling good, so how could you burden him with your stresses when he had so many of his own. Sure this last month had been hell and you were barely functioning but if you told him that, you know he would worry about you, and you would rather bottle everything up than have him worry.
Reaching into your suitcase, you took out his favorite packet of ramen, hiding it behind your back as you moved over to stand in front of him.
“I got you a present.” You bent down till you were face to face as he looked up at you with a smile and kissed him gently.
“I think you’ve already given me this present.” He said as he cupped your face and kissed you again, lingering longer.
You laugh as you straighten up and pull the ramen from behind your back, watching his eyes go wide in excitement as he grabs it, his dimples poking his cheeks as he hugs you. You knew he always missed home when on tour even if it was just an Asian tour, and his ramen cravings were the top priority when he arrived back to Korea. You hoped this would cheer him up as you grabbed the packet and walked over to the kettle, starting the water.
“Speaking of presents, I was saving this for tomorrow, but now I’m excited.” He says before grabbing the slim velvet box from his bag and walking over to you, wrapping you in a back hug as you pour the seasoning from the packet into the cup of dry ramen. He puts the box in front you and opens it, making it now your turn to go wide-eyed.
Inside the box is a necklace with the most delicate gold chain holding a pendant shaped like a gold slice of pizza with pepperoni made of small rubies. It would seem tacky if it didn’t look so intricate. No one had given you a gift that was so you, and it made you speechless.
“I know it’s cheesy but I saw it in Tokyo and it reminded me of our first date, but if you don’t like it I can take it back and I’m sure I can return it, I mean they gave me a gift receipt and everything.” Namjoon knew he was rambling but you were eerily quiet and the fact that he couldn’t see your face made him uneasy.
“It’s perfect,” you whisper as you turn around, your eyes glistening as you wrap your arms around his neck. He was alarmed. You never got emotional, even when you both watched Up together you barely showed any signs of being moved while he was sobbing.
“It was meant to be for our 100 day anniversary next week but I thought I’d give it early.” He pressed his forehead to yours, drinking in your smile as he held you tighter.
“I’m literally the worst girlfriend. I forgot about that.” You frowned as you looked away before you looked back at him, your eyes wide. “Oh my god! I only got you ramen! What the fuck is wrong with me?!”
“Y/N… Relax. I didn’t get you a present for you to get me one. Plus I know you’re nothing without your calendar app. I swear you’d forget to eat without it.” He laughed trying to reassure you as he kissed your frown away. “If anything it’s Siwon’s fault for not programming it in there.”
“I don’t deserve you.” You sigh as you hug him tightly, making Namjoon’s heart swoon as you ask him to put the necklace on you. He does so, kissing the nape of your neck where he clasps it and telling you that you deserve the world. You wanted to tell him you loved him before you chickened out again but before the words could make it out of your lips his were against them.
Later that night, he feels even happier as he sees you wear it to the gala. Even though he knows he can’t hold your hand, the fact that you have a symbol of his love for you around your neck makes him giddy.
--------------------------------
“Joon, seriously. I have to get this done.” You giggle as he kisses your neck, moving the strap of your tank to the side as he continues lavishing you in kisses. Namjoon was impatient. He had spent the whole night watching you from afar. He’d be damned if he had to wait any longer to have you in his arms. Work can go to hell.
To say that Namjoon hated the gala would be an understatement. First, you and Yoongi ended up unintentionally matching, and he found himself irrationally jealous at the fact that his stylist didn’t choose the Louis Vitton outfit for him so he could match with you. Second, even though all the attendees were placed on tables according to country, you had decided to sit next to none other than Lee Seungmin, the creep checking you out at brunch, who wasted no opportunity to shamelessly flirt with you, even going so far as to put his hand on your thigh a couple of times. The number of times you politely rejected him for him not to get the hint made Namjoon’s blood boil, so much so that Jin had to poke him to relax his face lest the photographers captured his reaction. And lastly, when he had to watch you dance with some old men as you were too polite to refuse, while they leered at you. Through it all, Namjoon could just watch helplessly as you seemed more uncomfortable. Now that you were both back to your room and in your pajamas, he just wanted to hold you before all the jealousy and insecurity of the night caught up with him. He knew if he kissed your neck enough, you’d soon comply.
“Do it later. We only have till tomorrow. Let’s watch a movie together?” He gives you another kiss that makes your breath hitch, a soft moan escaping your lips. Before you can get too carried away, you move his head away from you, sighing and gathering all your self-control. If you didn’t finish this proposal today you’d be in big trouble - like losing a multimillion-dollar contract big trouble. As much as you wanted to just forget work existed, you had to take a two-hour reality check on this trip.
“I can’t do that. Please understand.” You looked at him softly, but Namjoon couldn’t help getting annoyed. Didn’t you yearn for him like he did at that gala? Were you happy to be hit on by those creeps?
“Are you seriously being like this right now?” He scoffed, pulling away from you, eyebrows knitted together. Namjoon couldn’t understand why you had to work right now. You had been apart for so long, didn’t you want to spend as much time with him as he wanted to with you?
“Like what? I told you I need to have this done by tomorrow.” He could hear the familiar edge in your voice. You were starting to get annoyed.
“Do you know how much groveling I had to do to get this weekend together and you’re going to waste it on stupid work?” He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. You didn’t know he “groveled”, as far as you were aware this was part of his schedule. Why was he being so difficult all of a sudden? It’s not like you had a choice. Does he think you would seriously spend time away from him if you didn’t have to?
“Are you seriously mad at me for taking two hours, two hours, out of three days to finish some work?”
“Yes because these three days are all we get together for the next month.” Namjoon knew he was being stupid, two hours were not a big deal, but at the moment he couldn’t help but feel abandoned like somehow the scales in the relationship had tipped where the balance of affection was off. He cared so much for you, why couldn’t you feel the same?
“Oh don’t be dramatic. I will be done soon.” You snapped, your attention turning back to the screen. If Namjoon was going to throw a tantrum there was no reason for you to indulge him.
“Don’t dismiss me like that. You’re the boss, just tell the people to wait. Or delay it.” He walked closer to you, shutting your laptop, standing with his arms crossed. He wanted your full attention, and he was going to demand it. He hated how condescending you were being.
“Are you kidding me? I can’t do that. This is for a client.” You stand up facing him, anger flowing through you, indignation plastered on your features. Even though he was significantly taller than you, your glare could have made anyone feel small.
“Just do it later and apologize.” Namjoon knew he was being stubborn, but the reason for the fight was forgotten, he just wanted you to admit that you were wrong. As childish as it seemed, he wanted to win.
“What the fuck? I have a whole company that I need to pay, I can’t just skip shit.”
“Oh don’t give me that bullshit. Missing one deadline won’t make you miss payroll - you’re not a struggling small company anymore.” That hit a nerve, he could see it in your eyes as they flared with anger. He would feel bad for making you angry if he weren’t so happy to get a reaction.
“The fucking hypocrisy. Sure Namjoon, have RM miss a concert. It’s okay you’re not a struggling small band anymore!” You poked him in the chest as you moved closer. He hadn’t seen this side of you before. You had never been angry with him before. You had never fought like this before. Your anger only seemed to fuel his. He had no control over his schedule, you did. Why couldn’t you understand that fundamental difference?
“That is not the same thing. You are overworking yourself for no reason.” He was talking with his hands, you knew he only acted like that when he was pissed, but you were not going to have any of this petty behavior. For all his bull and bluster about being a feminist, he’s going to pull this shit on you? His job is great and not stressful or busy but when it comes to you he’s going to pull the overworking card? When he literally collapsed during rehearsal last week and hid it from you? You were livid.
“You’re going to talk to me about overworking?” You laughed sarcastically, your eyes burning. “Oh is it not the same thing because it's my job and not yours?”
“You know that’s not what I meant. Whatever. Fuck this. Enjoy writing your proposal!” Namjoon couldn’t argue anymore. He felt his anger rising to a point where he knew he was going to say something he regretted if he hadn’t already. Using his one remaining rational brain cell, he walked out of the room, not before maliciously slamming the door behind him.
“I will!” you screamed into the empty room, panting with anger as you picked up the water bottle on your desk and threw it across the room, tears in your eyes.
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Y/N: Have you seen Namjoon? He’s not responding.
Yoongi: Isn’t he with you?
Y/N: No.
Yoongi: What happened?
Y/N: Nothing, we just had an argument and I haven’t seen him. It’s been two hours.
Yoongi: Okay don’t worry. We’ll find him.
Y/N: Thanks Yoongs
Yoongi: Where are you?
Yoongi: Hello?
Yoongi: Namjoon. Answer your phone.
Yoongi: Y/N is really worried about you
Yoongi: Listen Namjoon if you don’t answer in the next five minutes, I’m reporting you missing
Yoongi: Enjoy that press
Namjoon: Stop calling me. I’m fine.
Yoongi: No. Where the fuck are you?
Namjoon: I’m just on the roof.
Namjoon: Please don’t come here. I just want to be alone.
Yoongi: Are you okay? Y/N told me you guys had a fight
Namjoon: I’ll be fine. Don’t tell her where I am.
Yoongi: Okay. Text me if you need a friend.
Namjoon: Thanks hyung.
Yoongi: He’s on the roof. He said he’s fine, but not to tell you.
Y/N: Thanks friend
Yoongi: You should go find him
Y/N: He doesn’t want me, there he made that clear
Yoongi: I’ve known him and lived with him for a decade, trust me. He needs you.
Y/N: Okay, but if we break up it’s on you.
Yoongi: Just go find him Y/N.
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Namjoon rubbed his face as he sat on the rooftop of the hotel, his back against the railing. Replying to Yoongi he tossed his phone aside. He’d been sitting here for the past couple of hours his anger dissipating into guilt far too quick. Dried tears streaked his face as he tried to gather the courage to go back to the room.
He was scared. The image of your angry face as he dismissed your work popping in his head. He didn’t know why he did that. He respected what you did, but he felt like a hypocrite. All his exes he dismissed when they asked him to take care of himself and not overwork. All the times they came to his studio to force him to leave, only to have the same look of anger that you gave him. He laughed bitterly as he pulled his legs to his chest.
At the edge of the guilt, he could feel it again, the same feeling he’d had since the comeback started, a sort of brain slush. Like a haze shackling him in place. He had felt it many times before but it was never this strong, this force of unproductivity, making him want to forget everything and hide. The stress of this comeback wasn’t any different than other ones. He always made it a priority to write new music in between promotions and shows but his creative block from four months ago was back and nastier. He could feel it gnaw at his neurons, forcing him to stay awake for hours after he should be in bed staring at a blank Ableton file. Usually, he could trick his mind out of this fog by working harder, but lately, it was like it was getting thicker seeping into every aspect of his life, painting his vision sepia, making every movement robotic.
He remembers when encouraging messages from ARMY would make him happy, excited to make more music for them but nowadays it just made him feel guilty. He wasn’t doing enough for them, he couldn’t even string together a series of 808s without it sounding like a gimmick or worse like plagiarism. Last week he had fucked up so bad that his body shook from the memory. He had stayed up all night in some sick form of self-harm, scrolling through hate comments on Twitter then Reddit. He was never sadder to know multiple languages because even if the characters were different the messages were the same. He was a shitty musician, too overhyped by fans, his awards were bought by his company, his dances sucked, he tried too hard, and of course that he was too ugly to be an idol. His rational side would argue that these messages were meant to hurt him, his friends and you would comfort him by telling him they were lies, but he never told anyone about this habit, and his rational side often lost out. If anyone asked why he did this he would say to fuel another song, but he knew the real reason - he just couldn’t stop. So he stayed up all night till his eyes were dry and scratchy from staring at the screen, and had three espresso shots before the show even though he hated espresso, his body eventually giving out during rehearsals. He got quite a few lectures about that. A leader’s job is to set a good example. You have been doing this for so long, be a professional play in your limits. But there were no limits, not when it literally took a mantra of just “power through it” to get out of bed and shower.
He had been hoping this weekend would solve everything - that seeing you would solve everything. As he sat on the roof, the first few drops of rain falling on him, he curled in further into himself. It wasn’t your responsibility to make him happy, clear the fog, but you had done it the first day. His mind felt clear but it was gone too soon. He didn’t know when it happened but he could see it after a while that you didn’t feel the same way he did. You didn’t crave to be next to him like he did, speaking affirmations in his ear as he did in yours. Hell, even when you saw his ex for the first time, you barely reacted. Maybe it was the way you were so adamant that he not leave any marks because you might not be able to cover them this weekend, or the way you made sure to not sit next to him at the gala even when you were seated on the same table by some stroke of luck. You didn’t love him like he did, and he would be happy with scraps, but he couldn’t afford to miss you more than he did. He laughed again, cackling maniacally, as he realized where he was: a rooftop in the middle of a downpour, just because you once said rooftops had magical healing powers. There was nothing healing about being alone looking at lights shining in offices no one was in - it was lonely.
He was so desperate to feel anything other than this fog that even anger was a better option. Maybe he wanted you to put him out of his misery, leave him as he was sure you would eventually before he burdened you with more of his fucked up life before he relied on you further just to have his legs cut out from under him. He sighed, shivering even though the rain was warm, resting his head on his knees. Could he survive if you left him tonight, justly so?
“Joon…?” You call out as you reach the rooftop, searching for him through the rain.
“I told hyung not to tell you. I wanna be alone” You barely hear him mumble from the corner and you make your way over to the dark figure. He’s hunched in on himself, his arms around his knees, his face in his hands and it breaks your heart. Your boyfriend is a tall, broad man who can easily throw you across the room if he wants to, but at this moment, he looks small, almost tiny. It takes everything in you to not just go and wrap him in your arms.
“Namjoon, what are you doing?” You squat in front of him, resting your hands on his arms. You wouldn’t usually push him like this when he seems distraught, you knew he didn’t respond too well to direct conflict but you needed him to let you in, your inherent need to fix going into hyperdrive. When he refuses to look at you, you cup his face and pull it up firmly to look into his eyes. He looks like he’s been crying and it makes your eyes well up. “Look at me. Why are you driving me away?”
With nowhere to run, all he can see is your face, your eyes puffy, red-rimmed and glassy, your nose a dusty pink. He made you cry. He made the person he was supposed to take care of cry because he got pissy over something she couldn’t control, something he was guilty of as well. All his guilt bit at his chest again and he hated himself. You didn’t deserve this. You should leave him. Why were you here in the rain trying to comfort him when he was such a useless asshole?
“Fuck... I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” His voice sounded hoarse and broken, and he knew all the apologies in the world wouldn’t make him worthy of forgiveness. He wished you’d just leave and let him wallow in the rain by himself - he deserved that. Tears filled his eyes and he hoped the rain would ensure they were invisible.
“Hey, hey. Baby, it’s okay.” You kissed him on the forehead, settling on your knees in front of him. His eyes were wide as he looked at you, his hands on top of yours, gripping your hands a little too tight.
“I… don’t know why I picked a fight.” He averted his gaze, not having the courage to look at you.
“It’s okay.” You move your hands to the back of his neck as he places his on your shoulders, opening his legs wide enough for you to move closer, your forehead against his as you caress the hair on his nape.
“No, it’s not. Fuck! It’s like when I saw you yesterday I could finally breathe! I’ve felt so numb these few months but when I saw you, it’s like I could finally be happy.” He cups your face. He knows he needs to be honest but he doesn't know where to start.
“Joonie…”
“And then I could feel it escape again. I felt it. My head getting cloudy like I was slowly going underwater, and I don’t know… I just… I can’t ask you to be responsible for my happiness. It’s not fair to you. I can’t. I can’t.” He knows he’s not making any sense but his chest feels tight and he can’t fight his tears anymore as they mix with the raindrops on his cheeks. He can feel himself hyperventilating. He doesn’t know why he can’t tell you this without breaking down. What was wrong with him? Maybe that’s why you didn’t love him. Maybe that’s why you never got jealous because you knew he wasn’t worth it. How could he support you when he could barely stand by himself. He was so fucked up.
“Joonie. It’s okay. Just breathe, okay? You’re okay.” You cradle his head against your chest, kissing the top of his head.
“I can’t lose you Y/N. I can’t be the jealous idiot that I always am and lose you.” He’s clawing at your sweater, pulling you closer than you are, making your eyes well up at his desperation. Why does he think he’s going to lose you? As far as you knew you had never given him any indication of that. You loved him and you couldn’t imagine a future without him.
“Namjoon. Look at me. It’s going to take more than a stupid fight to drive me away.” You pull his face away from your sweater and hold his gaze, his eyes red and still full of tears. The image breaks your heart but you hope you can convey your honesty to him.
“No, but you shouldn’t be with me. I’m fucked up, you know. You deserve better.” His actions speak otherwise as he holds your upper arms in both his hands tight enough to bruise as if you would disappear if he let go.
“Where is this coming from? Namjoon you’re not fucked up, you’re human. I don’t care how fucked up you think you are. I love you.” You look deep into his eyes, urging him to believe you. You had been trying to tell him you loved him all day but you always chickened out, but not now. You needed him to know that you were here for him. You were dying to know what started this, why he felt this way, but you needed him to realize that you had no plans of leaving.
“You… love me?” His voice was almost inaudible as his bottom lip quivered.
“Of course I love you. I love you - good parts and bad parts. I love 100% of you.” You kissed him gently, wiping at his face with your thumbs.
“Why?”
“Cause you’re you. You make me happy, even when you make me mad you make me happy.” You put your forehead against his again as the rain picked up, pelting the both of you. “Just don’t run away from me, please?”
“I don't deserve you. Fuck. I love you so much it scares me.” He kisses you at that, rough and full of yearning. It’s like the first kiss you shared this weekend and it makes your heart ache. Did he feel this way when he saw you again yesterday? Like he didn’t deserve you? You wished you could go into his head and learn all his worries - this did not seem like only work stress to you.
“Hey. I’m scared too okay? It just means it’s real.”
“How do you do that? How do you sound so sure all the time?” His head is on your shoulder as you caress his hair. It seems as if all the energy has been drained from his body as his grip on you loosens and you feel his weight lean on you.
“Because I believe in us. We’re Rapmon hyung and Y/N noona. We’re OTP, remember?” You lift his face and smile at him as he musters a small one of his own, as you kiss him again. “Let’s get out of the rain, okay baby?”
You both are drenched from the rain when you get back to your room, and you lead Namjoon to the bathroom. He just stands there, eyes glassy as you start a bath and grab a towel, drying the rain on his body. Once the bath is full and bubbly, you undress him and guide him in, discarding your own own clothes before climbing in behind him.
“I always sit behind you when we bathe.” He says, voice barely audible.
“Let me wash your hair, is that okay?” you say tentatively, kissing the back of his neck as he nods.
Suddenly, his head snaps up as he speaks loudly, a slight panic in his voice. “I have to use the special shampoo so the colour doesn’t fade.”
“Yeah. I have it right here.” You smile as he relaxes and you foam the shampoo on his pink hair, massaging his scalp gently. You take your time, washing it out before moving onto the conditioner, letting it sit as you massage his shoulders. You hear him sniff as you work at the knots. As you’re washing the conditioner off his hair, he turns at the waist, bringing one hand to your cheek as he looks at you. You realize he was still crying as your own eyes threaten to fill with tears.
“Thank you, Y/N. I… I know I don’t deserve this. Thank you.”
“Shh… I love you Joonie. You deserve this and more.” You kiss him gently on each cheek and then on the lips. You are not sure how to make him believe this but you hope he can see how much you love him as you wipe his tears. Namjoon’s never been this vulnerable with you, never given up this much control, and if you’re being honest it scares you seeing him this way. In a way, you feel helpless. You’re a fixer and there’s just no immediate way to make him feel better, you just have to make sure he knows you’re here for him.
After you get dressed, he lays in bed as you do his skincare routine for him, running your fingers over his face gently. Namjoon hasn’t felt this way with someone before, so raw but soothed at the same time. He never shows his negative emotions to anyone. Right now it feels like his emotions are a livewire, but the way you gently tap the serums on to his skin, making sure not to miss a spot, he realizes how wrong he was. All the ways he convinced himself you didn’t love him were wrong. You don’t show love through jealousy or possession or even words. This is how you show love - in the quiet of your room making sure that he doesn’t go to sleep drenched from the rain, or skip his eye cream so his eyes aren't too puffy in the morning or at breakfast when you always cut the crust off his bread because he once mentioned he doesn’t like it. He opens his eyes as you say all done and sees you smiling softly at him, some of his confidence coming back. He smiles at you even though it’s difficult, and pulls you to his chest. As you lay on his bare chest for a while, feeling how tightly his arms wrap around you, an idea pops into your head.
“I want to come with you to LA.” You usually don’t make such impulsive decisions, but you could feel that he was not ready to be separated and you were definitely not ready to leave him, but you didn’t want to make him feel like he didn't have a choice so you add, “Is that okay?”
“What about your work?” He asks softly and you can hear his heart beat faster as he awaits an answer.
“I work from home all the time. It’ll be fine.” You rise up slightly to look at him, your chin resting on his chest, making sure to look him in the eyes. “I want to be with you.”
For the first time that night, you see him smile wide enough that his dimples poke through his cheeks and you’re sure you’ve made the right decision.
“I love you, Y/N. Thank you.” He pulls you further so you are fully lying on top of him and as you tell him you love him again, you feel his breath even out, both of you falling into a much need sleep.
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#bts fanfic#bts fic#bts x reader#bts rm scenario#rm x reader#rm fluff#rm smut#namjoon x reader#namjoon x you#namjoon fluff#bts namjoon#namjoon#namjoon smut#bts smut#bts fluff#bts namjoon scenario
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Feralness of the NPCs? If you like.
this one took me a bit longer, because as critrolestats calculated a couple months ago, across both campaigns, matt has over a thousand npcs, and we'd be here all year if i had to rank all of them 😂
but in my attempt to brainstorm all significant npcs from both campaigns (though i'm sure i'm forgetting someone i'm gonna immediately remember as soon as i post this), i've got gilmore, allura, kima, jarett, kaylie, cassandra, kynan, artagan, kiri, essek, dairon, orly, yeza, and pumat sol, so i can do those guys!
(not including villains, figures we don't know much personal about like the bright queen, or guest pcs, because they're still technically pcs. also not splitting by campaign because allura and artagan appear in both)
1 - kaylie motherfucking shorthalt. i adore her so much, and she is feral as fuck. granted, she's highly competent feral, she's good enough at the flute to challenge scanlan, and good enough at the violin to be a professional fiddler (which, i reiterate, takes so much dedication to learn), and aes adan/the meat man definitely didn't become as powerful as he did all because of scanlan. but also, is a thief and a conman and will 100% get in a bar fight with just about anyone, absolutely unafraid to speak her mind, and her approach to meeting her father for the first time was to work out all her grudges by trying to kill him with a knife. see also - her epilogue was deciding to finish the schooling she dropped out of, but at a really fancy academy so she could prove she's better than all the rich kids, just really rub it in their faces. i so wish i could have seen it.
2 - kima will fight you. kima will fight anyone. i don't know why all the short girls in cr are so feral, but like literally all of them are just pure feral condensed into three feet of girl, i love them. kima is no different, except she has a dragon god on her side and also is very gay and she's great
3 - artagan. now, feral in large part constitutes an unwillingness or inability to play by the rules of a functioning society, and that's all artagan's about. show him a rule and he will run the other direction until he feels safe and then come back invisibly and use that rule to fuck with people. he has the chaos part down too, and i was almost gonna put him in first place. however, feral also implies something of a willingness for violence, and artagan doesn't really have that? like he does to an extent, but in the words of mr matthew mercer, "even the nicest of fey are weird and have their dark sides". and as far as fey go, artagan has been shown to care about people a lot more than he's ever wished them harm. like he's still feral, because he's an archfey and the entire feywild is feral. but like... relatively tame feral. give the boy a pen and some paper and he'll leave you alone.
4 - kiri. she's adorable, and is baby, but is also a bird with a knife whose catchphrase has more or less become "go fuck yourself!". i love her.
5 - orly's pretty chill. but also, let's be real, there's a limit to how non-feral a tortle sailor and tattoo artist with bagpipes fused into his shell can be. also is just generally down for whatever illegal antics the m9 feel like getting up to
6 - cassandra. i debated for a while about putting her higher, because there's definitely an argument to be made for that, but you do have to take into consideration how well put together and fancy she is at nearly all times. however. cassandra at no more than maybe 13 was the only person to not get caught in the briarwood attack, rescued her brother from the dungeon where they were torturing him and keeping the bodies of her other siblings, guided him out, got nearly murdered, and lived in a whitestone full of zombies and villains and vampire mind control for five years. she's feral under the surface, she's had to be
7 - jarett. god i love jarett, i forgot about him last time someone asked me my fave c1 npcs but he's the best. anyway, captain of their guard, good at fighting, terrible liar, Definitely Has Never Dealt Drugs Before, will go kill a dragon with you. but like, as long as you're paying him. he's doing this for money, not just out of base feral instinct. Probably Needs A Break.
8 - dairon taught beau and earned her respect somehow, so you know they're at least a little feral. but also, widely respected expositor of the cobalt soul, competent spy, and at least moderately capable of keeping beau in line, so that knocks down their feralness level a fair bit
9 - essek is a fancy boy, and definitely is beholden to a lot of rules. the whole floating thing shows that, like, he's pretty damn far from feral for most of the time he's in rosohna. but i debated who was higher between all the wizards for a while, and i think just because essek is (or at least was) neutral evil and is so driven by his hunger for knowledge and to explore the darker parts of dunamancy, that does push him up the feral scale a little bit. there's very little essek wouldn't do when it comes to discovering secrets. (also, you know, his entire job as the shadowhand, we've seen involves some fucked up stuff, so he's far from squeamish or naive in that sense)
10 - allura is a wizard and a politician and a fancy person and generally rather chill. but as far as the wizards go, wins second most feral because she's been an adventurer. she took down thordak the first time. casually reminisces about how weird all adventuring groups are when vox machina are like licking the weird powder they found in the necromancer dungeon and mentions she was like that too. girl's seen some shit
11 - pumat is not an adventurer, and has no wish to be, and on the whole, is not feral at all. but also, pumat swole.
12 - kynan, wants to be feral? and then was, kinda, for a bit, and then severely regretted it. has had his moments, but on the whole is a Soft Boy
13 - gilmore. we're definitely getting to the definitively Not Feral end of the scale now. i mean, points for crushing a man to death with his mind, also points for "if you could find a way for me to become a dragon, that would be sexy". but gilmore is extremely concerned at all times with putting on that charming and excited mask, he puts a lot of value on his image and practically nothing will get him to tarnish it (even when thordak nearly killed him and he was still barely hanging on, he tried to use prestidigitation to make himself look better, like... those walls run deep). is also just a really genuinely nice person, cares a lot about people, is very empathetic, and again, refuses to show negative emotion if it will hurt someone else in any way. it's hard to imagine shaun gilmore as feral in any way, and if he did get close to that, it wouldn't be in front of other people
14 - yeza. now, points for the slightly mad scientist vibe yeza's got going on, it seems to be veth's type. but also, veth has 100% of the feral in this relationship and they both know it
#kaylie shorthalt#kima#artagan#kiri#cassandra de rolo#dairon#essek thelyss#allura vysoren#pumat sol#kynan leore#shaun gilmore#yeza brenatto#cr thoughts#feral rankings#cr1#cr2#text#meta#orly skiffback#ask#jarett howarth
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Again, been reading a lot recently, and here's some recent reads and my thoughts. (All very spoiler-free)
Johannes Cabal: The Necromancer by Jonathan L. Howard
I'd heard about this series for a while, but had always kept putting off reading it, and finally I was in the mood for some comedic (yet dark) shenanigans--and a villain protagonist as charming as Johannes Cabal really hit me just right. I really enjoyed the first of this series and the introduction to this 1920's-ish universe similar-yet-different to our own that Howard's created. His writing is crisp and clever--and Johannes is a villain protagonist worth cheering for. He's duplicitous, arrogant, and cold, yet sharp-witted and competent enough to be engaging, and even though he's amoral (driven predominately with an "ends do justify the means" mentality) there are glimmers of a conscious buried in there.
The basic gist of the first book is that Johannes Cabal is a necromancer dead-set (ba-dum-sh) on thwarting the biggest plague affecting mankind: Death. As such, he's willing to go to extreme lengths to hone and perfect his necromantic abilities. In the pursuit of this knowledge, Cabal sold his soul to Satan, but he comes to realize he actually needs his soul for his necromancy to work more properly (apparently without a soul it gets very unpredictable). In order to win his soul back, he strikes a wager with Satan: he will accumulate 100 souls for Satan in return for his own. Satan, ever the fair player (not), gifts Cabal with an infernal carnival to help Cabal reach his goal within the year. Shenanigans ensue.
While I read some books in-between this one and the next in the series, I'll write about the other here--
Johannes Cabal: The Detective by Jonathan L. Howard
So clearly I enjoyed the first installment enough to keep going, and I am glad, because I enjoyed the second one even more than the first. It feels like Howard got more comfortable with the characters and world than before, and in this one he expands his universe with some made-up countries that are similar-to-yet-different than countries on our Earth. In this one, Cabal does less fantastic tricks, as he dons the role of investigator (there's been a murder--on an airship!), but the plot was very fun. I will say this is one of the first books in a long while to genuinely make my world-weary ass laugh out loud in public. Howard truly does know how to turn a phrase and comes off with some great witticisms.
Guns of the Dawn by Adrian Tchaikovsky
Tchaikovsky has been on my radar for a while because I have had Children of Time on my reading list for what feels like an age (and I still haven't gotten around to reading it, but I will soon). To prime myself, I looked up other works by Tchaikovsky. This was around the time I was look for good "stand-alone" Adult Fantasy novels as well, so the two linked up and I had this on my TBR for a while and got around to finally cracking it open.
I really loved this book. If I could describe it in any way, it would be sort of like Pride & Prejudice if Elizabeth Bennet got drafted into a war. Seriously. That's how it reads--and Tchaikovsky made the allusions to Austen's work very clear. The setting is very English-inspired, and the time period mimics Napoleonic times. Definitely the first "Flintlock Fantasy" I've had the pleasure of reading.
The themes of the book are about the caustic nature of nationalism, the blurring of truth during war, and what is true patriotism in the face of falsehood and horror. Definitely my kind of questions--and I love watching characters thrown into completely unfamiliar environments. A genteel woman (Emily Marshwic) being tossed headfirst into grisly, mosquito-infested swamps armed with a musket? It's a fascinating journey she undergoes.
Plus the novel featured a romantic subplot that hits my enemies-to-lovers buttons hard. (It's not at all like one of those tired YA enemies-to-lovers stories, but something more grown-up and messy, which I approve of, because I love drama.) But this is more of a personal note. It's definitely not going to be for everyone.
Retribution Falls (Tales of the Ketty Jay #1) by Chris Wooding
After Johannes Cabal, I got into the mood for some steampunk, and I hadn't actually read much in the way of steampunk, so I looked up some recs and the Tales of the Ketty Jay series seemed to appear on a lot of lists for this kinda thing. The basic gist of this one is... imagine steampunk Firefly. That kinda gives you the whole vibe and feel. It's about a crew of disparate and colorful characters all running from something who meet on the ship the Ketty Jay and have to learn to work together to survive.
Overall, it was a fast-paced read (I read this 400 page sucker in a single day--while doing other stuff) and Wooding knows how to write action and interesting character interactions. The world had some glimmers of brilliance (the wizard analogs in their world--daemonist--were the most intriguing part), but otherwise it was very typical steampunk. I had no real quibbles with any of that (aside from the fact some of it read as very cliche and Wooding's inspirations seemed a little obvious--Fullmetal Alchemist and Firefly being the two big ones that kept hammering me over the head), but my main complaint was with the writing and treatment of female characters. First, there is only one main female character in the Ketty Jay's crew--Jez. I had no real issues with Jez's character or writing (in fact she's refreshing in some ways), but she's completely isolated from any other female characters (and is also the only crew member who isn't really allowed to be a complete screw up--she's somewhat sanitized, which, I guess the heroic women characters aren't allowed to be fuck ups like the men?). Second, the other predominate female characters, of whom there are only three, are mute/dehumanized (Bess), characterized as stupid and unhinged (Amalicia), and have rape-as-a-backstory-written-TERRIBLY (Trinica). All that said, as much as it was cringe, this was written in 2009, and I am sure Wooding has had some growth as a writer since then.
I liked this one enough to decide to check out the next in the series (even knowing the writing for the female characters leaves much to be desired).
Black Sun by Rebecca Roanhorse
A Fantasy taking place in an Americas-inspired world? Absolutely refreshing (and more please). The main gist of this one is that a cult sets out to resurrect a dead god (seriously that's the main plot crux) while political machinations are going on in the central city of this country where the resurrection is going to take place. As the novel progresses, it's like a countdown clock to game time. There's four POV characters we follow: Xiala (a Teek sea captain who is kind of an outcast from her native people and has a love for beautiful people), Serapio (the man who has been groomed since birth to be the vessel for the resurrected god, part of this process has included blinding him), Naranpa (the Sun Priest of the capital city who is trying to garner back control the priesthood has lost), and Okoa (who really doesn't even appear until way later into the book; he's been separated from his family to train to be a warrior). For the most part, I was primarily engaged (re: 90% engaged) with Xiala and Serapio's story. They were the most interesting characters, and the journey of them on the sea trying to get to the city before the ceremony was exciting and emotional. The political dealings in Naranpa's segments kind of bogged down the action--and I didn't feel anything for that. Overall though, definitely a thrilling read with a beautifully constructed world. If I had one big criticism, it's that it ended incredibly abruptly without any resolution. I knew going in this was a part of a greater whole, but I still felt the ends could've been knotted a little tighter. I'm left dangling! But I'll be sure to pick up the next one (if anything just to find out what happens to Xiala and Serapio).
Vicious by V.E. Schwab
As an unapologetic villainfucker, I had to read this one, right? It's about not just one, but two villains! How could I lose? And they're in an intense rivalry? Revenge? Betrayal? Superpowers? Gah! Be still my heart!
I'll say I enjoyed this book (fun characters, solid writing), but I didn't love it as much as I thought I would (I wish I could love yooouuuu!). Definitely worth a recommendation to anyone who loves villains and fast-paced narratives, but... there were a few things that tarnished what could've been sparkling. The biggest for me was the jumping around in the first half. For a length of time, the novel leaps between three different points of time, sometimes 2-3 pages at a time, and it was jarring (not confusing, mind you, but it was a jolt each time). I get it was done to create an air of mystique and intrigue, but it felt like I was getting dragged around by the ear. Along with this, the plot just seemed... very convenient? As various moments kept happening, it all felt too tidy and paint-by-numbers. The characters were certainly messy and fun (and I love messy and fun), but the action itself seemed to glide on well-oiled rails with no hiccups. This did lead to the magnetic pacing of the book (which I also read in a day), but it didn't do the drama any favors. Never once did it feel like the characters were caught with their pants down--and I think that's part of the point, but it kind of dampened the tension.
I liked it enough I am definitely going to check out the sequel Vengeful though. If anything I am reading for Sydney, Mitch, and Victor. I gotta know what happens to them!
--
Right now I am reading some fluffy fluff to cleanse my palette because I've been reading so much moodiness. I'm mid-way through the light and breezy Half a Soul by Olivia Atwater (and it's super cute so far) and then I am finally going to crack open Andy Weir's The Martian (because I have put off reading it for far too long).
#recent reads#book review#just jotting my thoughts down somewhere#seriously though i am itching to read the next johannes cabal but i gotta pace myself#i don't want to burn through those like i did murderbot lol
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Impressions of Episode 2! Spoilers not just for the episode, but for the game--including parts towards the end of the game. Screenshot-heavy
Also, NTWEWY Release Date Trailer reference at one point.
First up! Love the proper intro! Shame about what happened with the original intro being swapped out, there’s some spots where this version of Twister doesn’t quite fit. But it fits better than the use of Calling they used as as a last-second sub in the first episode.
(For those who don’t know, one of the band members for the group that did the original song was involved in a criminal scandal so the music was pulled, apparently that’s not uncommon. I feel more bad for the poor bandmates who’ve had their reputation tarnished by association, y’know?)
so! first up on visuals! New Noise!! Wonder if these will show up in NTWEWY? They don’t look as much like Noise as most others, missing that tattoo component, but they remind me of the Bats and the Sprogs. Curious to see if that happens
FORESHADOWING with MR. PRODUCER HIMSELF.
So, we get some interaction between Neku and Shiki right off the bat when the episode starts, which involves Neku’s whole “I don’t like people” thing, and we see Beat and Rhyme join ‘em and they have a discussion. Get some of the talk of everyone’s values colliding, which IIRC is a W2 sort of convo w/ Asshole Jesus? Can’t quite remember... Either way, get some more insight into the characters.
RHYME IS TOO CUTE HERE THIS IS SO PRECIOUS
Ahaha... This sequence hurts. The framing makes it so clear what they’re getting at with these two being siblings. Also this entire bit is good, helps establish details about the characters both overtly through conversation and subtly, like the framing of this shot.
This part also hurts, Shiki getting so excited she forgets, just for a moment, what’s going on.
Honestly the entire sequence with the Prince is funny, and helps give some good insight into the characters.
Also. Same, Neku, Same. That’s exactly my face when people start losing their minds over some RL celeb that’s apparently sexy or something lol. But also starts to work in the importance of fashion and trends in this sequence.
The description is different but ultimatley the idea seems roughly the same for Imprinting--though Shiki knows what it is rather than Rhyme explaining memes.
(shame we couldn’t get “what’s a meme?” animated lol, but that’s probably just a funny thing in the ENG fandom and it IS based of the JP original ver)
Interesting way they handled Eri here, with her wearing a different outfit.
Dude talking to Makoto’s a Reaper, I’m betting--since he’s lacking that sort of washed out look the RG folks have. Specifically planted here to give the Players the idea for what their mission is, if they’re paying attention to their surroundings and/or in the right area at the start of the day.
Nao and Sota make another appearance after their Ep 1 cameo! Good way to introduce them before W2!
[knee-jerk reaction of screeching because THE FUCKING MOST ANNOYING FUCKING PINS EVER]
Also the fact that the dude in Red who was talking to Makoto says his boss is pressuring him to spread them around makes me pretty confident, aside from the “lacking the washed out RG look” that he’s a Reaper.
This was very interesting--the Support Reaper let them through because Shiki was holding a Keypin. Setting the precedent for “this pin caused a wall to be cleared for us” but at the same time... Not opening the wall itself. And I wonder why the Reaper didn’t seem to care that a Player was holding onto a Keypin? I mean, the Reaper addressed it with “take care of that pin”, so I suppose they’ve acknowledged it but still feels odd. Then again, might be a case of “Player with a Keypin? Higher ups didn’t say anything about that. Welp, not my problem then.” and just not wanting to deal with it lol
also look at the Support Reaper (guy in red w/ the facemask)’s outfit. Compare it to what “Neku” in the end of the latest (as of this posting) NTWEWY trailer was wearing--it’s pretty much identical except “Neku” is wearing black instead of Read (Harrier Reapers wear Black), is this “Neku” in NTWEWY a Reaper now? Or trying to blend in and appear similar to a Reaper for some reason? Or is it just coincidence?
see how similar they look? (I know it looks purple here but the boxart it’s black so I assume it’s just lighting)
Then again, since the art seems the same between game and anime (or very similar, the eyes are handled looking the same it seems to me) it could be something else... (Of course, who even knows if this is the real Neku?)
Anyway...
AHAHAHAHAHAHA Oh shiki, if only you knew that the second player pin is because of the bullet that wasn’t stopped XD
Working trends in somewhat, interesting to see that. Makes total sense they’d do it this way since the “trends change based on what Players use in battle” is a game mechanic that I can’t see being easily worked into the story in another format, so this swap makes plenty of sense. Using Imprinting on the Prince to get him to plug the advert makes sense.
LMAO. SAME NEKU, SAME. THAT IS SUCH A RELATABLE FACE.
I gotta wonder, though--using the Prince this way instead of the Players making it work, seems like that might not make Makoto get a big head about “his” success which would alter things in... W2, right? The ramen shop stuff’s W2.
So. We have a few interesting massive deviations here.
First up, a look at the influence of the Red Skull pin on people.
And second...
A Familiar Looking Noise Symbol, found on the Shibuya River... Megumi’s Noise Symbol.
Obviously a massive deviation as Players start getting Erased--despite the Mission being cleared. Neku and Shiki are on the chopping block when...
A familiar bit of hair reveals their savior who’s not about to let Megumi end their little Game early using some underhanded tactics like “Earsing Players after the Mission is cleared”
I’m very not sure how I feel on a personal level about this decision, but on a narrative level I fully get where they were going with this.
It establishes a very powerful Noise, and if they remain true to the game later it’s foreshadowing that Megumi’s involved heavily. AND it establishes (through subtle implication you’d not necessarily get if this was your first time watching and didn’t catch the hair) that Joshua is a very powerful person. Before being in the Game.
Shiki comments on the unsualness of it, too!
I do, however, think they did real justice to the Eri and Shiki revelation. I still wanna know what that “accident” is that killed Shiki, though.
And here we see a person having his ENTIRE WORLD rocked by the revelation that he’s dead.
Also we got a slight flashback to the incident that killed him, too blurry to see much but a little bit of one. We saw a little of that in Ep 1, too, IIRC.
AND THAT’S IT FOR THE EPISODE
Well. Except for the title card for Episode 3
WHO’S READY TO HAVE THEIR HEARST SHATTERED LIKE GLASS OVER THAT SCENE?!
#twewy#the world ends with you#twewy spoilers#twewy anime#spiderss#bc there's a screenshot of a spider monster#kage watches twewy
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Anime! Fictional! BTS x Real World! Reader- Welcome To My World~ Episode 1
HEY HEY! IM SO EXCITE! Btw who here plays BTS World? This is very loosely based off that.
I need to download it again tbh.
CHECKOUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!
Leggo!
...
What does it mean to escape? To get away. If it means leaving behind all you know, all you’ve been raised to know, all you’ve been led to believe, with just yourself and the clothes on your back. Scary, but thrilling. Terrifying, but inviting. Unbelievable, but definitely possible....
...
On a early Tuesday morning where the sun was barely grazing the orange sky, you sat by your windowsill. You were dreamily staring out into the halo that was a mixture of red and orange. The halo of greyish clouds matched your mood to a complete tee. The aesthetic beauty of nature wasn’t enough to make you smile or even blink twice, however. It was always like this though. Yet something about this scene made you go sour.
Releasing a sigh, you stepped away from the window, shutting the curtains. Another day, the same thing. All you could do was attempt to power through.
As you lazily pulled your shirt over your head, you had managed to dodge that annoying dog. The little brat wasn’t even yours, but your oh-so loving step-sister’s. He always had a affinity for making your room a hot mess. Only yours in particular.
“Get out of here you little-.” you chased the dog out of your room, slamming your door as it scurried off. “What did you screw up this time?” you curiously scanned the room. Everytime that little fluffy beast rammed his little head into your personal space, something would end up broken, ripped, shattered, or completely destroyed beyond repair.
You almost screamed when you saw a familiar book cover on the floor. You instantly dropped to your knees, praying to yourself that it wasn’t true. The cover had a pretty violent looking rip along with the first few pages.
Your absolute reason for waking up in the morning was tarnished. A signed cover of BTS Universe Issue #1. Probably your one and only favorite series on planet Earth. You gingerly picked up the book, trying to inspect it with hopes that the damage was minimal. As little as this was, you almost felt like crying. However there was no time, you needed to tape up the pages and fast! Who cares if you missed breakfast.
...
“Morning Y/N!” Your step-dad greeted you in the kitchen. “You were upstairs an awful long time, I was about to send your mother to see if you were still up playing that game of yours!” he smiled warmly.
“Thanks Mr. Chai.” you replied politely. “I’m sorry I’m so late.”
“You know...Y/N...you could call me Dad.” he set a plate down on the table. “I know I’m not your father, but I want to be the best father-figure for you because I know...you haven’t really had that.”
You had to stop yourself from saying anything else. You haven’t had the best parental relationship, and your new step-dad really was trying. Maybe it was just his daughter that drove you nuts.
“Thank you.” you replied, smiling. “...Dad.” you winked, making finger guns. “Geez! You made a lot of food for just the four of us”
“ Well you ain’t see muffin, yet!” he winked. “You and Nari have a busy day today. She auditioning and you, my friend....well I don’t know exactly what you have planned for the day.”
“I’ll tell you if we can skip the food related puns.” you sat down at the table. It was a rule that everyone waited for everyone else. Even though you had taken the extra time to repair your copy of BTS Universe, you had seemed to be the first person down the stairs. In all honesty, you were just going to hang out at the comic store until Nari called to tell you she was done.
“Hey now, Donut kill my vibe!” he continued, laughing. “I have a million more of these, come on. Don’t go bacon my heart, Y/N.”
“Good job Y/N, you’ve gotten him started.” You mom came down the stairs in her little blazer and pencil skirt. “Whatever will we do now.”
“He did it himself, the guy’s an animal! You married a wild child, mom.” you joked. “He might just be a serial killer.”
“Don’t you mean...cereal killer?” he held up a box of Raisin Bran to make his point. You could only shake your head as your mother and step-father laughed together. Food related humor so early in the morning had to mean today wasn’t going to be a horrible as it started, at least for you.
“WHERE ARE MY THIGH HIGH BOOTS!” you heard a screech from upstairs. “THEY BETTER NOT BE IN YOUR ROOM, Y/N!”
“...WHY WOULD I WANT TO WEAR YOUR SHOES!” you yelled back after taking in a deep breath. “NARI, IF I WANTED TO BREAK MY ANKLES, I’D HAUL MYSELF DOWN THE STAIRS.”
“When will you two get along?” your mom shook her head. “It’s been three years.”
“We don’t not get along.” You shook your head. “Not my fault she’s difficult.”
“I can think of a few times you’ve been difficult yourself, young lady.” you mother pointed a stern finger at you. “Like when you locked yourself in the room to read that silly cartoon of yours.”
“It’s not silly.” you defended yourself.
“Oh come on!” Nari’s voice voice could be heard alongside some loud footsteps. “I think it’s cute to be honest. Y/N here actually has a hobby besides stalking celebrities online.”
“Shut up, Nari.” you grumbled. “And keep your dog out of my room! He ruined my signed copy of BTS Universe!”
“Dorie got out again?” she seethed, looking annoyed. “I really have to put a bell on that dog.”
“Yeah.” you sighed, you bummed mood returning. Everyone knew just how much you loved that edition. You kept in in a super special display case, you cleaned the case every week, you kept your other issues on their own bookshelf along with your figurine and digital visual novel editions of the series. You were even on the buyer’s list for the special early anime release. You LOVED this series. Not even Nari dared to disrespect something as important as that, and she loved getting under your skin.
“I’m sure you’ll be able to find another one.” your mother set down a bowl of cereal in front of you along with a muffin. “Now eat, you have a big day today.”
“Yes mam.” you replied, helping yourself to some cereal.
“If you want, you can take a muffin or bagel with you.” your step dad said.
“Dad! I can’t, I have to be super focused remember? Breakfast will just slow me down!” Nari scoffed.
“Not having breakfast will make it even worse, dummy. Dude, you’re gonna pass out on stage.” you threw a tiny cereal piece at her. “Eat something.”
“I’ll eat later, I just have my eye on the prize and nothing is going to stop me.” Nari stood up determined.
“Will you at least eat some toast, crazy girl.” your mother said. “Y/N’s right, you need to at least have eaten something to calm your nerves. Y/N make sure Nari eats something before you two go your separate ways.”
“I’ll try, no promise.” you shrugged. “Nari, if you’re done, then get your stuff and let’s go.” You promptly finished your cereal and went to go back upstairs. “You got ten minutes.”
“What’s her deal?” you could hear Nari ask, followed by an sudden whispering of your mom stating exactly what she thought was wrong with you. Your bet was on ‘everything’.
You walked back into your room, grabbing your purse from your desk. You eyed your taped up issue of BTS Universe #1. There was no way you were going to find another issue like that, and that damned dog just treated it like a loved toy. You grabbed your phone and shoved it into your purse. You went over to where the issue was and placed it on your desk.
“NARI LET’S GO!” you shut the bedroom door behind you as you walked out the room.
...
You sped to a stop outside the building. Nari was shaking in her shoes. She seemed hesitant to even open the door.
“Call me when you’re finished so I can pick you up.” you said, getting ready to unlock the doors.
“You’re leaving me!?” Nari looked like she was about to explode.
“Hello?! It’s idol trainees only?” you raised an eyebrow. “I can’t go in there with you. Nari what’s the problem?”
“...Um...I’m nervous alright! I’m giving up almost everything and if I don’t get chosen...I’ll just prove my dad right. I need this.” she stared down at her hands. “I’m not used to being a reject. I don’t know how you-”
“You wanna leave here with two working legs, I suggest you don’t finished that sentence.” you cut her off. “I’m not a reject.”
“That’s not what I was gonna say. I’m saying I don’t know how you deal with nerves like this.” she looked like she was gonna pass out.
“...You just do.” you nudged her shoulder. “You just go for it and hope. Go for it.”
“...Okay, I’ll try.” she opened the door. “...Thank you.” she stood up. “I’ll call you when I’m all set.” she shut the door.
“I’ll literally be at the store around the corner.” you replied before driving off. You watched in the rear view as she took her sweet time going into the building.
...(Later on)
You trudged behind Nari as she ran through the door. She seemed happy, so that must have meant the audition went well.
“I’m gonna take a nap.” you called to your mom and step-dad. “See you guys at dinner!”
You didn’t wait for them to reply before you closed the door. As you walked over to your bed, you noticed a disc laying on your bed. Just a random DVD. The closer you got, the font on the front got clearer.
“BTS World?” It didn’t look familiar in the slightest. “It’s called BTS Universe, Nice try Nari.” you wrote it off as a stupid prank by your oh-so-loving Step-Sister. It was only then you realized Nari was with you all day.
You took another look at it, gently taking it in your hands. It looked like it was glowing.
Call it curiosity, but you needed to know.
Your laptop was sitting at the edge of the bed, so you put the disc in.
“State your name.” a voice came out of nowhere.
“What?” you looked around in shock. The voice sounded like it came from right behind you.
“Please state your name.” the female robotic voice repeated.
“Y/N.”
“Are you sure that you want Y/N as your name?”
“Um Yes?” you raised an eyebrow. You still didn’t know what the fuck was going on.
“Would you like to start a new game? You don’t appear to have any saved filed under the name Y/N.”
Maybe you were sleepier than you thought, but you ran with it. “Yes.”
“Starting new game....now”
Your screen began glowing a bright blue, a vivid, saturated blue. It was like your screen had turned into a flashlight.
“What the fu-” you suddenly stared at your hands, the very tips of your fingers turned pixelated. “MOM!!!” You tried to scream, only to have it come out in the form on an echo. You felt your feet leave the ground as tiny little pixels moved towards your computer. You could see the color draining from your walls, leaving everything white. It was like an earthquake ran through your room...only through your room.
Then...everything went dark.
...
(Why hello there...LET US PREPARE. I’m gonna go through with it this time, I swear on my bacon! The guys are coming next chappie!)
#hoseok smut#taehyung smut#yoongi smut#jimin smut#namjoon smut#jungkook smut#seokjin smut#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#kpop smut#kpop x reader#hoseok imagines#jimin imagines#jungkook imagines#yoongi imagines#namjoon imagines#taehyung imagines#seokjin imagines#imagines#bts au#bts imagines#bts x reader#bts smut#kpop au#au imagines
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I was wondering if you could maybe do a JJ x kook reader, where the reader is kinda stuck being with rafe because of family ties and this is the time JJ takes the blame for what pope did to toppers boat, and the reader pays it off anonymously because they have a crush on him?
a/n: HI!!!! This is like a month late I’m so sorry y’all but I have more stuff in the works now that I have more free time. I spun it a little like John B and Sarah have been together for a lil bit, so the timeline is a tad off from the show. It’s kinda all over the place so I’m sorry about that.
Word count: ~1.8k
Warnings: mention of drugs, some swearing, probably typos, nothing else really
Ever since Sarah started dating John B, you’ve been hanging out with the Pogues. Your skepticism, due to being a kook yourself, about hanging with the group quickly fizzled after just one day on the HMS Pogue. And almost everyday you’re with them, that is whenever you can get away from Rafe.
Ah. Rafe Cameron. King of the kooks. And your “boyfriend”, not necessarily by choice. You two had grown up together on Figure Eight and of course as soon as you two had entered the age where it was acceptable to date, both sets of parents threw you together. It was nice, at first. It was new, exciting and you got to spend time with one of your best friends. But as time went on, and as you matured, Rafe seemed to stay in his high school days. Drugs controlled his mood, he was never on time or forgot you had plans and had completely changed from who he used to be.
You tried to break things off but your parents begged you to give it one more chance, they just couldn’t lose their friendship with the Cameron family or tarnish their precious image. So you gave it one more chance, about ten or more times. Your relationship at this point consists of hooking up with no strings attached, going to family dinners and putting on an act.
Your time is mainly spent with the Pogues. Rafe absolutely hated it at first, but he realized he couldn’t stop you and his sister, so he gave up eventually. Your summer days consist of surfing, relaxing on the boat or causing trouble around town. The trouble coming mostly from the shaggy blonde, with the ocean blue eyes that you were absolutely, undeniably, in love with. Rafe gets with his fair share of girls now. It never really bothered you at all since you both had come to a mutual agreement that this so-called relationship was purely physical and just an act to satisfy your parents. So now you spend your days and nights sneaking around with JJ Maybank, only the pogues and Sarah knowing what’s really going on. Rafe knows you’re fucking other people, but he doesn’t know who. If he did, he would lose his shit.
You wake up to your phone ringing next to your bed. Rubbing your eyes, you see the caller ID state that it was Rafe. You sigh rolling your eyes, you just talked to him before you decided to nap due to the exhaustion engulfing you after working a 7 hour shift this morning.
“Is this a booty call?” You ask, flopping back on your bed.
“Y/N! Someone sunk Topper’s boat!” He yells. You sit up immediately, stomach sinking, having an idea of who could have done this.
“Wait what?” You stand up and start pacing around.
“The plug wasn’t put back in. Topper claims he remembered to put it back in, but he was also drinking the last time he was driving it. Probably those fucking pogues though.” He raises his voice. “I don’t understand why you and Sarah hang around them, they’re trash y/n.”
“Rafe…” You state, already getting annoyed. “I love gossip just as much as the next girl, but I was hoping this was either more important information or a booty call. And seeing that it’s not, I am going to go back to bed.”
“Whatever. Come over tonight then?” He asks.
“Yeah yeah, see you then” You huff and lay back down trying to sleep, but your mind won’t stop thinking about the incident. Part of you knew JJ could have done this, and another part of you denied that. You give up on trying to sleep, throw on a bathing suit and one of JJ’s giant tees and head over to the chateau.
You hop out of the car and walk around to the backyard of the chateau.
“Now if any kooks come up to you and ask if you had anything to do with it, you walk up to ‘em, look ‘em right in the eye” You hear JJ stop and Pope mumble something. “And deny. Deny. Deny.” he finishes. You stop in your tracks, your suspicions now proving to be true. Your phone goes off and you mentally curse yourself for not putting your phone on do not disturb.
“Y/n?” JJ runs over to you, his face lighting up.
“What were you guys just talking about?” You ask nervously.
“Um uh well. I-” Pope starts but JJ cuts him off.
“Just talking about trying to find the gold. In case any kooks find out, we can’t have them fucking it up for us, ya know?” JJ says. You nod, not believing a single word but too scared to push for any further answers.
“Well I gotta go back to work, I told my dad I would only be gone an hour or two.” Pope says, heading to the driveway. “Dinner tonight?”
“Yeah. Wait no fuck. I forgot I have a stupid family dinner thing I promised my parents I would go to.” You say, remembering you told Rafe you’d go over tonight. “Can we just come and hang out with you at work?”
“Yeah sure, I don’t care. Kie said she would help out today so she’ll probably be there by the time we get there” He says, and the two of you follow him.
You get to Heyward’s and not even 15 minutes after you arrive, chaos ensues.
“Hey Pope, someone here to see you” Heyward says, eyeing the boy almost as a warning.
“Evening officer.” He says, swallowing as his hands start to shake.
“I have an arrest warrant for felony destruction of property.” Shoupe orders, as the other officers step forward and grab him. You start screaming, following Heyward outside, JJ hot on your heels. Kie starts to sob, and everyone else starts to shout, confusion in the air around you. Pope looks as if he can’t breathe. His eyes looking lost. All of a sudden the screaming stops, and you hear one voice call out.
“It wasn’t him! it was me. He tried to talk me out of it. but I was mad because he’d just been beaten up. I was so sick of those assholes from figure eight that I lost my shit.” JJ turns to Pope. “I can’t let you take the blame for something that I did. You’ve got too much to lose.”
“JJ what are you doing?!” Pope hisses.
“I'm telling the truth. For once in my goddamn life, I’m gonna tell the truth. I took his old man’s boat too.”
“What the hell?” Heyward says from behind you.
“JJ come on” Pope pleads.
“Shut up Pope, shut up. He’s a good kid. “This was all me.” That was the last thing they said before they took him away. You didn’t notice you had started crying until you felt your tears roll down your neck. You feel a hand on your shoulder and see Heyward giving you the most sympathetic look. As much as he acts like JJ annoys the fuck out of him, you know that he loves JJ.
You, Pope and Kie stay outside as everyone else retreats to where they were before. You sink to the ground, hands covering your face.
“What do we do?’ You groan, wiping away the rest of your tears from your cheeks.
“I’m not sure we can do anything” Kie says.
“Well,” Pope starts “I mean in a perfect world we could pay off whatever his restitution would be. But Topper’s boat is expensive, like only the Kook-iest of Kooks can affor-”
“Pope, we know okay. That doesn’t help” Kie interrupts. You shoot up, an idea coming to your head. Deciding to keep it to yourself knowing that the two of them would immediately shut it down and call you crazy, you make an excuse to leave so you can execute your plan.
“I have to go guys. Get all socially acceptable and that shit for dinner with my family.” You start walking in the direction of your car. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow!” You call out. You get into the car, open the glove compartment and grab the checkbook. Luckily, you share your bank account with your very, very elderly grandparents, who are loaded. And never check the account ever. So no one will notice anything missing. Your parents won’t be able to see anything, no one will ever know, and you’ll be able to do it anonymously. You drive to the station and climb out the car, your hands sweaty and stomach nervous.
“I’m here for JJ. Uh Maybank.” You tell the lady at the front.
“Let me grab Shoupe” She gives you a judgemental look as she walks back.
“Y/n, didn’t expect to see you here. Everything okay? Parents good?” Shoupe says as he sips on some coffee.
“Yeah yeah everythings fine. Um I’m here for JJ” You say, fidgeting with your hands.
“Maybank?” He raises an eyebrow.
“I’m here to pay his restitution.”
“That’s $25,000 Y/n…” He puts his coffee down.
“Alright.” You grab a pen from the desk and start to write in the checkbook.
“Woah woah woah. Slow down. What will your parents think when they see 25k missing?”
“They won’t know. It’s not their account.” You finish filling out the check. “I would like to keep this anonymous please.” You hand it to him and walk out the door. You drive to the local market and sit in the parking lot, air conditioning cranked high and your favorite band blasting through the speakers and wait for him to call or text you.
------
“Maybank” Shoupe says, unlocking the cell that he was sitting in. “Your restitution has been paid, you’re free to go.”
“By who?” He shoots up, eyes wide.
“Don’t know. Don’t care. Get out of here.” Shoupe commands.
------
Your ringtone interrupts the music and you groan as you reach for the phone hoping it’s from the only person you want to talk to right now. *JJ* flashes on the screen, with a photo of him shotgunning a beer.
“JJ?” You try to sound confused to avoid any suspicion.
“Y/n! I’m out! Someone paid my restitution. Shoupe wouldn’t tell me who but at this point I don’t care. Can you come get me please? Oh! And bring burgers and fries, jail makes you hungry.”
“JJ you were there for 2 hours, tops.” You laugh.
“Yeah and I’m starving. I’ll be waiting outside the station.” You hang up, pick up some food and head over to the station.
The moment he sees you his eyes light up.
“Hey beautiful.” He hops in the car and grabs your face, kissing you passionately. “I love you. You know that? I fucking love you.” You smile as the words leave his lips.
“I love you too J. Now eat up.” You throw him the bag of food and drive off to the Chateau, texting Rafe that something had come up. You’ll come up with an explanation as to how you got out of your “family dinner” for Pope and Kie. Tonight, you’re putting JJ first.
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Stark Spangled Kinks: Got You By The Chain
Summary: It's Steve's Birthday and when Katie gives him a sentimental gift it uncovers a kink he certainly didn't know his girl had.
Warning: SMUT SMUT SMUT- This entire series is SMUT so NSFW and NO UNDER 18s!!
Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark.
A/N: So in the SSB this takes place in the last of the 5 years between the Snap and The Final Battle. Jamie will be 2 and Emmy will be 14.
A/N 2- These Characters belong to @what-is-your-backupplan-today, even though I’m writing them as a challenge between us. For a better interpretation of Katie and Steve, please check out what-is-your-plan-today’s series linked below.
Steve Roger’s Main Masterlist
“Did you have a good Birthday?” Katie asked, her legs dangling over Steves on the couch, a hand stroking up and down her calf and his thumb trailing over her ankle before going back to massaging her foot. It was later in the evening, everyone had just left, there were balloons floating around the ceiling of their living room, and Steve was sure a few escaped into the kitchen, which he knew Jamie would love in the morning when they came down for breakfast which would probably consist of the cake he knew was sitting on the kitchen counter, half gone after feeding everyone. Thank God Katie had the sense of mind to make two cakes. They weren't her apple pie, but damn they were jgood.
“I did Sweetheart, it was great seeing everyone. Good to see Natasha, I didn't know if she would make it.” Steve admitted, his thumb now running along the arch of Katies foot deeply, before setting it back down. “Your brother was as always in good spirits.”
Katie grinned and shifted to a sit, settling in next to Steve on her hip, kissing his forearm and laughing. “I'm sorry he insisted on playing that song. But Jamie really loved it.”
He couldn't help but laugh, the corner of his eyes crinkling at the image of his son carrying the damned card Tony had made for him up the stairs that night, singing right along to 'Stark Spangled Man With A Plan' even if the toddler didn't know all the words. “I bet he's got it tucked under his pillow?”
“Not quite. I convinced him to let me tuck it in with his Cap Teddy at the end of the bed. I don't think anyone would appreciate it blasting the middle of the night if he accidentally opened it.” Katie shrugged and Steve could do nothing but nod in agreement. He kissed the top of Katie's head and she stirred a little and grinned at him.
“Well Soldier, since it's just you and I, I have one last gift for you.” she unfolded her legs, and moved to a stand, Steve braced his hands against his knees to get up, a smirk on his face as he had an idea he knew
exactly
where this was going but to his surprise she shook her head and pushed him back into the couch. “Nope, stay right there, I'll be back in a second.”
Steve arched a brow at his wife, but she wasn't willing to give him anything more than that as she disappeared from the room. Settling back in, he let his mind wander back over the events of the day.
Katie had surprised him, waking him up with her straddling his waist and placing kisses up his chest. “Happy Birthday Mr.Rogers, How about a different form of cardio to your run today?” She purred with flashing emerald eyes, teasing him as she arched her ass back, rubbing into his erection. Who was he to say no? Never fucking ever. He watched her ride him until he couldn't take it anymore and flipped them, to have her come undone underneath him in that way only his girl could... yup, that was better than pounding pavement any day.
Then later, going downstairs, he found his daughter had made pancakes. The kitchen was somewhat a disaster, as she stood in the middle with her spatula, a mile high plate of slightly dark pancakes heaping. “Happy Birthday, Dad” She had said with so much enthusiasm, she almost lost the plate. “Oops, sorry."
Steve took it from her and, sliding it onto the kitchen counter, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and kissed the top of her head. “They look so good Baby.” Grabbing one, he rolled it and bit into it. “Ya know what, best pancakes, I've ever had.”
“Really?” Emmy said with a tilt of her head and a narrow of her eyes. “You're just saying that.”
“I'm Captain America and I can't lie.” Steve defended himself as Katie came in the room with a wide-awake Jamie on her hip who grinned at the sight of his Dad and Sister. Plucking the pancake from Steve's hand, she bit into it, nodding. “He's right Em, better than mine, and way better than his.” Handing Jamie off to Steve, along with the half-eaten pancake, she shooed the two boys out of the kitchen. “We will call you when it's ready.”
Jamie ended up eating the rest of that pancake while watching Bob the Builder. Once in a while, the girls could be heard giggling in the kitchen as they finished, and then called them in. Steve toddler walked Jamie into the kitchen to find the pancake stack had lit sparkler candles stuck in the top and there were birthday hats and streamers hung around and 2 large cakes sat on the counter which Steve knew full well hadn't been made that morning, he'd smelt them baking the previous night. They sat Steve down, who swept Jamie up to sit upon his knee, and Emmy hung over his shoulder to help him blow out the candles as Katie snapped a picture of the three of them. Between all of them, they ate their breakfast, Jamie eating the most food out of anyone. Especially the cake.
"He's a bottomless pit," Emmy said in shock as Jamie started asking for more with the softest puppy dog eyes and Katie narrowed a look at Steve, noticing the similarities.
Steve grinned at Emmy's observation."He's a growing boy, plus I'm sure some of the effects of the serum as well are a factor as well."
The day was finished off with a last-minute bbq, Tony arriving with Pepper and Morgan, Jennifer and Brooke arrived and then Natasha came with firm hugs and promises to come by more often and they all sat outside sharing stories of the earlier Avengers Days making sure to talk about those lost in the snap. Although sad, it was important to keep them going in their hearts, even if they had to try and move on. It had been a lovely day but Steve still felt slightly relieved though when after the fireworks had lit up the Manhattan Sky Line which they could see from their large garden that everyone headed off, Tony declining their offer of a room for the evening muttering something about not leaving Gerald the Alpaca alone as the animal hadn't been well. Emmy had asked to go back to Brooke's for a sleepover and after Jennifer had said that of course it was ok if she did, they left with Natasha, the red head offering to drop them home. And then once the house was quiet Jamie went down with little fuss after his bath which was well needed as he had covered himself in liberal lashings of his Momma's homemade frosting.
At that point Katie re-entered the room and Steve’s attention went right back to her, seeing a sleek black box in her hands. Going to him, she slipped into his lap sideways, looking in his eyes, and grinning. “I think you're really going to like this Stevie.” Placing the box in his hand, she bit her lip. It was hard to miss just how excited she was.
“Baby, if it's from you, absolutely.” he smiled, placing a gentle kiss on her shoulder and shifting so his arm went around her waist and he could use both hands to pry open the lid. At first he just noticed the chain, Katie grasping it by the clasp and lifting it up for him to see what was hanging at the end, a shining silver pendant.
Catching in between his fingers, Steve pulled the medal closer, studying it a moment. “Is this....?” Katie nodded enthusiastically and Steve's eyes widened seeing his father's St Christopher’s Pendant again after all these years. He had it locked away in some personal possessions of his from way before Katie and the kids. He had found it in the same box of his stuff that he'd found the emerald ring that now adorned Katie's right ring finger. Like the ring he doubted it was worth any great monetary value but it was the only thing he had of his Father's and he couldn't part with it but yet had nowhere to go with it. So it sat, in the rusty little box he had found it in, on the upper shelf of the master closet, tarnished and rusted.
“I remember you showing it to me when we were going through your stuff for the Smithsonian, telling me it was your father's. It just needed some TLC Steve and I figured you're a father now...” Katie drifted off, waiting for Steve’s reaction. Top teeth worrying her lower lip, for no reason other than excitement.
“I haven't seen this... in more years then I care to admit Sweetheart.” He admitted and he dipped his head to her. Katie had gotten a larger chain, so it could hang well underneath his shirt should he want it tucked away, and easily looped it over his head and watched as it tumbled down to rest partway down his chest, her fingers straightening the saint to rest right in the center, and smiled.
“It looks good Steve, right where it belongs.”
The soldier glanced down on it, thinking back on all the years they had been together, and he had all the protection he needed in the woman curled up on his lap. The sentiment, the value of Katie's gift was not lost on him. “Katie, it's perfect, thank you for this.”
Steve slid a hand along her face, fingers tracing the delicate cheeks and back into her loose hair. He loved how it would sweep around her shoulders, framing her face. Pulling her in closer, he let his lips dance across hers till she parted for him, moaning against his mouth as her hand wrapped into his shirt, tugging at it till he leaned forward, letting her drag it off. While they were parted, he yanked hers off too, and dropped his head, kissing and nuzzling the top of her breasts, Katie's fingers digging into his hair to hold him close. “You're welcome... How about I give you the rest of your gift?” She grinned cheekily and rubbed her core into his groin, making him hiss at the feeling.
“Oh, there's more?” He teased, nipping on her neck and wrapping an arm around to her back to flick her bra open and, well, that too had to come off, flying over the back of the couch without so much as a second glance.
Katie giggled as he went back to her breasts, hands cupping them, squeezing gently while kissing on them, she panted out slightly. “I mean... If you don't want it, we can just go to bed Rogers, I am tired after all.”
She could have sworn he growled a bit while giving her chest a gentle bite, and Katie arched herself into his mouth, hissing at the way the slight pain and pleasure mixed. His arm tightening, Steve lifted them both off the couch only to lay her down on her back, and the super-soldier looked over her, his eyes traveling down her bare torso, before his mouth followed suit, the necklace falling onto her quivering skin. She was rolling herself up into him, his body firm against the softness of hers, and it was hard not to get lost in it all, biting on her lip and tipping her head back to enjoy being in her husband's care. Steve's hands folded into her pants to get them off, fingers jerking underneath the elastic band and yanking them off, a telltale rip, making Katie lift her head up off the couch cushion to see Steve look a bit sheepish with her destroyed panties.
“You know Rogers, if you weren't so brutal with my clothes, I wouldn't have to replace them every month.”
Steve smirked, pressing her ruined panties against his nose and inhaling Katies aroused scent from them before tossing the torn slightly better off shorts but totally destroyed panties to the floor. “They shouldn't make them so flimsy, should they.” he shrugged, pushing his own pants down and kicking them off before moving to a kneel between Katies spread thighs, one of her leg arching up to rest against the back of the couch, the other her toes pressed to the floor, her leg bent, Steves hands rubbed against her inner thighs, looking down at her. All sweet curves that Steve was achingly in love with. Sliding his hands up and around his handfuls of hips, shifting her to where he wanted her.
“If you weren't so brutish Steve, then they wouldn't be tearing.” Katie retorted, looking up at him, and her emerald greens flashed in amusement, watching her husband appreciate her body, and she could feel a flush rising pink up her neck, into her cheeks. Dealing with her image after having Jamie had given her self esteem a blow, but Steve, well he seemed unable to get enough of her, maybe even more so than when they first started dating.
“Can't help it, baby girl, you make me feral.” Steve leaned forward, kissing on Katies' lips, and down her neck, fingers drifting along her curves till they dipped between her spread thighs and slipped along her folds, groaning against her shoulder at just how wet she was. Bracing a hand next to Katie's head, who was starting to wriggle from where expert fingers spread her slick, he arched up to watch her come undone, and a sight it was, the way she arched her chest up, those soft whimpers of his name uttered as her fingers dug into his biceps. “Steeevie”
“Just like that Baby.” Steve encouraged Katie, as his fingers stretched her open, gliding and rubbing against her walls, that clenched with need around his digits. “You know you wanna give it to me Sweetheart.” He drawled in his Brooklyn accent, dropping his head so he could reach her breasts, dragging the cold chain and pendant along heated skin to pool between her breasts, a pull of his teeth on a nipple drew out another cry from Katie.
“Fuck you're so beautiful” Steve groaned as he switched sides, moving his fingers faster once he found that sweet spot, Katie quivering, her whole body rubbing against the hard steel strength of Steve's, panting as she glanced down.
“Stevie, please I gotta.”
His lips were wrapped around the other nipple, sucking and working his teeth around it before a pop sounded as he pulled away, his the muscles in his back and shoulders shifting as he arched up once more watching her with pupil blown eyes. “Let me have it Baby.” And he was rewarded with her spiraling out when that heat in her stomach flooded her. A loud moan came from her, and Steve rubbed at her side, keeping her held down so she wouldn't fall off the couch. “Good Girl...”
Katie stared up at him afterward as he pulled out his fingers, and she wasn't sated, no this just made her hungrier for him, aching in a need that only he's ever been able to soothe. “Fuck Soldier, I.Need.You.” And her hand fell off his biceps, one hand wrapping into the chain on his neck, and tested the strength as she usd it to pull him down to her lips, hungry gasps shared between them as Steve slotted between her thighs, grinding into each other. Kisses flowed into soft bites of skin while Steve arched his hips up enough to slide his cock between her folds, and once he found her entrance, he pressed into her heat, burying into exactly where he wanted to be the most, forehead pressed against her own and breathing mingling as both panted through the initial hit of sensations that coursed through their veins.
“You okay baby?” Steve finally opened his eyes and Katie nodded, tipping up to press her lips against his, tugging on his full bottom lip and nudged her nose against his own.
“Better than okay” She rolled her hips once more to drink against his, the shift in angle making her tighter, and driving Steve crazy to feel her fluttering around him, pulling his hip back and thrusting back into her.
“I can tell Baby.” He grunted and started to move himself, always seeking Katie's warmth, her slick giving him the access to bury himself deep to connect them. Shifting to his elbows on either side of her head, Katie immediately wrapped her leg from around the couch over his hip, rocking her hips to meet him. “Oh, God...” The change in angle hitting her deep and just right, bringing her other leg around his hip to hold on.
Steve fisted a hand in Katie's hair, tipping her head back and dragging a swipe of his tongue up her neck, and kissed in that sweet spot just behind her ear, dragging his name out of her in a chant, right now going slow and deep. But her hands dragged down to his back, nails digging into the bunched muscles he was using to monitor his speed and she grabbed at him, “No Steve... I want you to fuck me.” He moved to look at her and found her green eyes challenging him, and that was all he neede. Shifting his chest across hers and pulling away, he held himself above her, both his hands fisted in her hair to hold her down while his hips snapped, brutal, dragging himself back and forth from her fluttering channel.
It was so quick that Katie screamed out, rolling her eyes up in flutters of her eyelids. It was maddening how thick he was, how full he was inside her and the constant pounding left her trying to keep up with his furious fucking Her entire gaze was filled with nothing but Steve, a wide chest with its spattering of darker golden hair that could drive her crazy to the straining shoulders that gave him the leverage to shift his body in every way to claim her. And then his face, that handsome face she knew from memory, his sharp jaw was tight, those baby blue eyes burning her as his face hovered inches from hers, all his focus on her and only her, it was driving her crazy.
Steve was just as swamped with the sensations. He enjoyed making love to his wife but he also enjoyed the faster, carnal fucking too. There was a darker side to him that enjoyed being able to use his size to claim her how he wanted and give her what she needed. "Fuck..." he growled out as he rutted into her, his chain that had been bunched into the folds of muscle between his neck and chest released, the heavier pendant falling onto Katie's face, bouncing off her cheek and the voracious movements Steve was making just kept it bouncing.
"Fuck, Steve!" Katie tried to move her head but he hit a particularly toe-curling spot deep inside her and her mouth dropped wide in a loud gasp, the pendant and chain falling into her open mouth. She could taste the heated metal and Steve where his hot body had left a sheen of sweat on the pendant itself. Her eyes widened as it was pulled from her mouth and she pouted slightly. Steve looked down in confusion, groaning out. “What's wrong baby?”
What was wrong was she wanted it back, something to hold onto as he pounded into her so with a slight lift of her head, and snapping of teeth, she bit the pendant gently, and his hands tipped her head back, losing any slack in it. To see Katie biting on the masculine silver chain, squealing slightly from a clenched jaw when he angled just fucking right, dragging her nails down to try to pull him in again, well fuck if that wasn't the hottest fucking thing ever. Just as feral and urgent as she made Steve, now she needed anything to keep her from spiraling out of control.
“Fucking hell Doll, that's hot.” Steve just had to say it, and a slight smirk pulled on the corner of her lips and her emerald greens that were already lust blown hooded slightly until he found that spot when he rotated his hips, making her groan and her whole body arch.
And now that Steve had found it, he was relentless, hard, demanding, claiming. Katie could only let him go, tightening her hips and hands scrambling along his back, she never let go of that chain though, ripping her head back into the couch, her mouth full, but Steve still hear her signature cry, a tangle of words falling from a tongue straight up with silver metal chain, her whole body locked around him, pulling herself in as with as much strength as she could until it ended with a loud guttered cry "Steeeevie....fuck..."
Steve dropping himself enough to press his forehead against hers as she cried underneath him. “I got you babygirl.” He hadn't stopped, but slowed his thrusting, helping her ride out her orgasm, but he wasn't that far, it was simmering and he was teetering on that edge that he knew he was going to fall over soon, and there was a slight stutter to his hips as he grained speed again, grinding into her until her clenching body was too much and he spilled into her, jolting to a stop after several erratic thrusts, sinking down over her as Katie pressed her face into his neck, breathing in deeply, even with Steve's body crushing her. She loved the weight, wanting him to stay there, although she knew he wouldn't for too long, he was always too worried about crushing her. Easing her limbs from around Steve, her foot easing down the back of his thigh and calf, humming softly post-orgasm, she reached up to her mouth and slid the chain out, nibbling on Steves neck, who gave a groan.
“I should move, I'm crushing you.” He lifted his head enough to look down at her and Katie clutched against his lower back to keep him from moving.
“No Stevie... not yet please.”
Biting her lip, he kissed her softly and shifted just enough so that while still inside her, they are half twisted to settle on their sides and hips, his chest still pressing against hers. Fingers trailing along the side of her face, he flushed soft brushes of his lips over the scattering of freckles. “So... I think I found another use for this.” He lifted the chain just enough to loosen it from between their pressed together bodies.
Katie wriggled a bit and grinned, her teeth tugging at her bottom lip in an innocent attempt. “It was hitting me in the face.”
“Uh-huh, you reaching up and wrapping your tongue around the chain to bite onto it was far more than hitting you in the face,” Steve said softly, blue eyes smirking at her slightly until she sighed.
“Okay, maybe just a little bit. Like... you best be wearing that again, cause that was hot.”
Steve gave a deep laugh and his arm wrapped around her to roll them, rather ungracefully until Katie was sprawled over his chest and she rolled her hips while he was still inside of her and he gave a grunt as he could feel himself hardening again, his fucking refractory period was almost non existent when it came to this damned woman.
Thank you Doctor Erskine...
“Oh, that's payback for teasing me." she grinned, clearly feeling him inside her. She moved her hips again and smiled at him, "Also, Happy Birthday Steve.”
“Happy birthday to me indeed..." he cupped her face and drew her into a deep kiss, tilting his hips up making her shudder slightly. “Love you, Sweetheart.”
“Love you too Soldier.”
#stark spangled kinks#stark spangled banner#steve rogers x original female character#steve rogers x OC#steve rogers#steve rogers kinks#sweater writes#amber writes#challenge
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The Neighbour [0.3]
Something was irrevocably different with Remington; Emerson picked it off right away. On an early Tuesday afternoon, with the air thick and humid and the sun beating down like a plague (no pun intended), Remington was fussing over himself more than usual. He had changed out of four or five different outfits, playing with his hair, and was it appropriate for him to wear makeup? Eva hadn't seen him with it on, yet. No, it was probably best to keep it casual for now. Then again, he had a fantastic highlight that worked absolute magic under the sun...
It was around eleven thirty when Remington finally came down, dressed down but still presentable in a simple pair of ripped skinny jeans and a t-shirt. Emerson and Shy were sat on the couch as they watched Netflix, Pepper situated between them. Remington stopped short when he saw the pair cuddled up on the couch, he smiled deviously.
"Eugh! You guys are so flippin' cute it's gross!" he gushed, putting on his diva voice.
Shy chuckled softly, "Hi Rem,"
Emerson's attention diverted to his older brother, intrigued to see him all ready to go out somewhere.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"Coffee with Eva," Remington replied simply.
"The neighbour with the cat?" Shy said.
"Yeah," Remington nodded, "Emerson tell you she gave us a loaf of bread last week?"
"He did," she smiled, "Poor thing, I felt for her. She looked so flustered at the pool,"
"Well, moving is a bitch already. Throw in Covid 19 and you got a real thorn in the ass," Emerson said, then turning back to his brother, "You gonna' be social distancing?"
"We're going to drink our coffee and walk around in the park," Remington replied, "She works from home anyway,"
"So, who asked who for the coffee?" Emerson asked.
Remington shrugged, stopping at the hallway mirror to fix his hair again, "She brought up how she hasn't had a chance to get around the neighbourhood, so I offered, she accepted. She has our vinyl too,"
"Which one?" Emerson asked.
"Boom Boom Room,"
"Side A or B?"
"A,"
"I'd approve either way,"
Shy couldn't help but subconsciouly squeeze Emerson's arm, a glimmer of excitement bursting behind her eyes, "So, she's a fan, too?"
"Took her a minute to figure it out. Didn't even bring up Em or Seb, so clearly she pays more attention to me," the blonde smirked.
Emerson glowered at his brother, "Yeah, yeah, go for your cup of fuck-off-ee," he grumbled.
Across the street, with her room strewn in discarded clothes that just didn't make the cut, Eva finally felt confident standing in her denim skirt and black tee. On any other day she'd have paired the ensemble with her pleather jacket, but it was too damn hot out. Even with the window letting in a cool breeze, the air was uncomfortably humid. What did she expect when moving from the Emerald City to Los Angeles?
Eva made sure to close and latch the window shut before she left, not eager for Pluto to go off on another reign of terror. Stopping to grab a fresh face mask, her phone suddenly began to vibrate in her purse. She figured it might have been Remington sending her a text, but the screen flashed to the Blocked Caller ID. Eva rolled her eyes and denied the call.
Stepping out into the humidity, Eva waved her hand over her face as she stepped out of the complex courtyard, just at the same time Remington was locking the door to his house. As soon as she caught his eye, he was all smiles.
She was glad to see him; a little relieved, even. He looked cool, cool enough to appear on some grungy magazine cover. All he needed to complete the look was a cigarette and maybe a skateboard, too. The messy blonde hair, the glimmer in his eyes brought back the warmth she associated with his presence and as she came to meet him at his car, his spicy cologne danced up her nose and imprinted itself in her olfactory memory.
Remington had never been more wary of how his hands shook, his left hand he stuffed into his jean pocket and the right he gripped his car keys with a vice-esque grip. He found himself mesmerized briefly by the fit of her skirt, her black t-shirt tucked in smoothly but not too tight to over expose her figure, but just enough to give Remington an idea. Her short brown hair fell delicately over her face, one side pushed back behind her ears and exposing her stormy blue eyes to the sunshine. She was the embodiment of innocence and grunge wrapped into a perfect five-foot-six package.
"Glad you didn't stand me up," he grinned.
"Well, I kind of happen to live right over there," she drawled, pointing to her balcony, "It'd be kind of awkward and hard to hide if I tried,"
"You look really nice," he nodded after a brief moment.
"So do you," she agreed with confidence, "Where we off to?"
There was a forested park not far from where they lived. Despite the pandemic, the fields were filled with older kids playing games of soccer and basketball, there were vendors out trying to sell their ice cream, a couple girls were scattered across the grass and sunbathing. It almost all seemed so normal, if not for the fact that the kid's jungle gym had been fenced off so no child could climb upon it.
The pair walked side-by-side, him with his iced black coffee and her with a green tea frapp -- no whipping cream. The gravel path they walked was shaded by a canopy of lush green trees, providing some relief from the hammering heat. Remington kept his gaze locked on her, worried to miss a moment where she'd crack a smile or briefly run her tongue over her lips. Her fingers appeared so dainty yet he could spot the small calluses at the middle joint of her thumb, and some paper cuts on her middle and index fingers.
"So, how does a ghostwriter get hired?" Remington asked, "Do you just openly advertise 'hey! If you're a lazy author, come hire me'?"
"No," Eva shook her head with a giggle, "I used to write articles for the newsletter at my college, and then a friend of mine forwarded me an email about a client who was looking for a ghostwriter. I didn't know much about it but the money was pretty good. It was a grant application for requesting financial aid for survivors of residential schools,"
"Sounds depressing," Remington said.
"It was pretty heavy shit," Eva admitted, "But, I did get fifteen-hundred for a six page application. Well worth it, I'd say,"
Remington blew an impressed whistle, "So you make pretty good money off of this?"
"Let's just say my student debt has decreased significantly since I took up the profession," and she took a brief sip of her drink.
"You ever publish anything under your own name?" he asked, "Eva Kuznetsov is a cute pen name. Evelina sounds more mature, though..."
Eva shrugged, "I think about it sometimes... but it's just easier to write under someone else's name and let them have all the glory. Say, if they happen to do something stupid to forever tarnish their career, that won't come back to bite me in the ass,"
Remington smirked, "Like a particular fantasy author who's made some pretty heavy comments concerning the trans community?"
"Let's not even talk about that, my heart still breaks when I think about it," Eva sighed, "To answer your question, however, if I got confident enough I may try to publish something in the future,"
"What else do you like to write?"
Eva opened her mouth but closed it quickly, pressing together her petunia pink lips as she visibly swallowed whatever words were about to pass through them. When she looked up at Remington again, his brown eyes dark like soaked coffee grinds that sent her into a caffeinated headrush. What would he think if she actually told him...
"I write poems, some short stories," she somewhat lied.
Remington's smile grew wider, mischief glimmering over his face like light beams reflecting over windchimes in a saturated dusk, "You hesitated just now," he spoke curiously, "What else do you write?"
Eva glanced down at the ground, a nervous giggle bubbling out and knocking the air out of her lungs, "Okay listen, don't judge me, it's just a hobby of mine,"
"Oh God!" Remington gasped, "Do you write porn?"
Eva laughed again, her pale cheeks flushing in red, "Well... I do happen write some naughty shit... in my fanfictions,"
Remington stopped dead in his tracks, taken aback by her answer. He totally thought she would say something along the lines of erotic fiction on a platform like Literotica. For understandable reasons, he had some mixed emotions about fanfictions.
"What kind of fanfiction?" he asked, somewhat bordering on the third degree.
"... Um..." she glanced at him again, the smirk on his lips compelling more giggles to burst from hers. She pressed her hands together over her nose and mouth, and Remington laughed as well.
"Okay listen, I promise," he put his right hand over his chest, "I promise I will not judge you for whatever smut you write for whoever," he assured her.
"It's not... yeah, I guess it kind of is," Eva chuckled nervously, "I usually write for stuff like Criminal Minds, but more lately I've gotten into writing for Euphoria..." she trailed off, timid as she waited for his response.
"Alright, that's actually not bad," he nodded, "I'll be honest, you didn't strike me as somebody who write fanfics,"
Eva glanced timidly at her scuffed sneakers, kicking up pebbles and dust, "Are fanfic writers supposed to look a certain way?"
"I don't know, actually," he simpered.
"I don't tell a lot of people that I do it, mainly because their first impression is either 'what the fuck' or 'OMG we should collaborate' and I'm just like," she hung her head back, "Nooo!"
"You're more of a soloist then a team player, then?" he teased.
"Let's just say I tend to work better alone," she replied, shrugging her shoulders as though the comment should mean nothing. But Remington found it odd that Eva was out here all on her own, never brought up her friends or family. He didn't see many personal effects in her apartment, neither.
"Is that why you're out here by yourself?" he asked.
"What do you mean?" she replied.
"Well... don't take this the wrong way, but I haven't really seen you with anybody. You don't talk about your friends or your family,"
Eva shrugged again, "They're all back in Seattle. Besides, opportunity was drying up over there and I just wanted a fresh start," she said, "Besides, Pluto's my friend,"
"Well, that's a given," he replied, "Are your parents up in Seattle?"
"My dad is," she nodded, "I don't know what my mom's doing," Remington's silent was her cue to go on, "I um... we haven't really spoken, her and I,"
"You have a falling out?" he asked suddenly.
Eva glared down at the gravel again, "You can call it that. She's a pilot and she's always flying, and so you know, I never really got to see much of her growing up. And then, she suddenly shows up for my college graduation and expects us to be one big happy family, like she has it in her head that she can make up for all the birthdays and shit she's missed. And I just didn't know what to say to her. I don't know who she is, but she's my mom," she glanced up at Remington again, "And I don't know why I'm telling you all of this,"
Remington wasn't bothered by her unloading, it seemed as though Eva needed to get things off her chest more than she realized. Her smile was sardonic and her voice petty like a comedian on stage, putting on the brave 'I don't give a fuck anymore' face.
"I find sometimes it's easier to unload to new people then it is to your friends," he said, "What does your dad do?"
"Chem professor. Which is ironic because I seriously sucked at chemistry," she replied.
"Show me a kid who didn't struggle in chem, honestly," he said, "But do you get along with your dad?"
"For the most part," she chuckled, "He's still confused as to why I choose to write anonymously, but that's his problem. What do your parents do?"
Remington chewed on the inside of his cheek, "My mom's kind of like our manager. Does a lot of production and behind the scenes stuff. And I haven't seen my dad for nearly twenty years,"
Eva was silent for a moment, studying him. He spoke with a firm grin, yet still trying to shadow that flicker of sadness within his face.
"So we both have parental issues... that's nice to know," she put on a teasing grin, "Maybe that's why we make such good friends?"
Remington swallowed thickly, "So, you are indeed confirming we are friends?"
"I am," she smiled, "It'd be nice to have whatever few I can scrape up,"
"That fact that you also live across the street means that you're now stuck with me," Remington grinned with pride.
"True," Eva hummed appreciatively, taking another sip of her drink, "Somehow, I don't think I'll mind, though,"
When Remington drove her home she gave him a sweet and polite goodbye, a hug which made his confident exterior falter for a second long enough for her to witness it through the flush in his cheeks and his lack of response. His words tripped over the length of his tongue when he tried to flush out a proper goodbye and he felt his hands began to quiver again.
And when he went to open his door, he took one last glance. The small brunette turned at the same time and met his gaze, but he was too far away to hear her sharp inhale. And when he finally went inside he fall back against the door, staring into space with the biggest grin he'd had on since... well, he couldn't remember when he last felt so excited.
#remington leith#Remington Leith imagine#palaye royale#Palaye Royale imagine#Palaye Royale fic#sebastian danzig#emerson barrett#boy bands#band imagines#band imagine blog#original story#original female character
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Night Shift
Pairing: Young Sub! Joe Elliott x Sassy! Reader
Warnings: 18+ (smut!), light hair pulling, light choking, reader is kinda rude asf towards joe 🤪
Lil Summary: Joe’s your new coworker and things haven’t been going so smoothly, after causing you a considerable amount of stress you finally voice your irritation, which he responds to extremely well.
Requested Tags: @satchie666 @white-lightning-625
Special thanks to @thewritingdoll for forcing me 🔫 to write for the first time in DECADES (bc I never finish anything ☺️)
If you don’t think it’s trash lemme know 💖 I probably won’t add this onto my masterlist until I get my new laptop lol I hate posting on mobile tumblr,, the formatting just makes no sense to me 🥺
——
Working night shift had its perks. The hastle of dealing with the general public was reduced and the atmosphere was a lot more lax. For a while you had a pretty good thing going, being the only employee willing, or needed, to come in at such bleak hours.
Unfortunately, your boss had convinced himself you were in dire need of a workmate in case an incident were to occur, which wouldn’t have been so bad, had the person he hired been anybody else.
Joe was incapable… Really easy on the eyes, but unable to learn even the simplest of tasks. You’d considered having him fired, but couldn’t bring yourself to lodge a complaint. Sure, he’s a little daft, but having him parade into work with a pair of form fitting jeans stretched across his tight figure was almost enough to make up for it, almost.
The undeniable sound of glass shattering detaches you from your salacious thoughts, irritation immediately bubbling throughout your body. Not even an hour into tonight's shift and he’s already managed to turn your mood sour. Dragging your feet across the floor in a huff, you push your way through aisles of snacks and refreshments, stopping to exhale before you enter the room labeled ‘employees only’. The scene you’re met with would have been comical, had similar instances not happened several other times before. With a look of vapid confusion evident on his face, he looks down towards the floor, eyes laid upon the fragments strewn around his feet. The coffee, freshly brewed, had splattered across numerous tiles and up his taut, denim pants.
“Uuhhh, I don’t know how it slipped-”, disorderly grabbing a handful of the nearest napkins, he drops to his knees, further soaking his jeans with the caffeinated beverage while haphazardly mopping up the mess he had created. You’ve made an effort to tightly pinch the bridge of your nose to cease your escalating rage, preventing a full-on outburst. Plastering a forged smile upon your face, you finally gain enough composure to speak, “I’m almost impressed by how clumsy you are”. Looking into your eyes through stray strands of brunette hair, he flashes a vacuous smile, “I’m so sorry, Y/N, I promise I’ll do better… just having a hard time concentrating lately”.
Squinting your eyes in confusion, you’re bewildered by his confession, what exactly did that mean? Pushing all thoughts of perplexity to the side, you chalk it up to nothing, perhaps he was having a difficult time adjusting to night shift. Now feeling somewhat guilty for your attitude towards him, you lower onto your knees to help, carefully picking up rouge pieces of sharp glass.
After a considerable amount of time and effort, the mess is almost entirely taken care of, albeit a few sticky patches here and there. Caught up in cleaning the room around you, you’ve almost forgotten about your uncoordinated coworkers tarnished attire. Wringing out the bottom of his pants, he still manages to hold a delighted smile, as if nothing could ruin his cheerful mood. Maybe he wasn’t as terrible as you were leading him on to be, as you find your cold demeanour now warming up to his rapturous personality.
Simply watching him move was a spectacle of its own. The way he carried himself was .. klutzy, like he was unsure of his next move, allowing his body to haphazardly lead the way. Looking once more in your direction, he flips his hair to prevent it from further blocking his vision, leaving it to cascade down the side of his face. Straightening his frame and leaning against the nearest countertop, he stops to speak, putting on a tone that, if you weren’t mistaken, was slightly apprehensive “hey uh... I know we’ve only known each other for a few weeks, but I’ve been wondering-”, his body seemed to tense with each syllable that crossed his lips, feet unable to stay perfectly grounded. Just as he was about to finish his wavering sentence, his hand slightly slides forward, his large paw knocking a new slew of objects onto the floor.
You watch in vexation as he fumbles once more, like a bull in a china shop, unaware of his lanky stature. As soon as he’d begun to redeem himself, he’d managed to piss you off further. Neither of you had moved, he awaited carefully to gauge your emotions, eyes darting from the broken mug that decorated the floor and your face, now painted with a blank expression. No longer did you possess the patience to babysit a man your own age, every single instance of irritation he’s caused you now bubbling directly to the surface, irritability extremely evident in your voice “Can you do anything right?”.
Scratching the nape of his neck, he goes to shrug, “hey no need to be so-“ stopping him mid-sentence , you interrupt whatever thought he had conjured and thought appropriate to spill from his unoccupied skull, “I’ll speak to you in whatever manner I please, and if you have any ounce of intelligence, you’ll shut up to listen”. Quiet for once, his mouth stays firmly closed for what seems like the first time since you’ve met him. Proud of standing your ground, you begin once more, pushing your limits, “since it’s obvious there’s not a single thought floating through that pretty little head o’ yours, I’ll make this simple, I’m tired of your constant mistakes- it’s not cute, I’m not impressed, and you’re gonna start listening to my instructions or I’ll have you fired”, nibbling on his bottom lip and focusing on every word you speak, he eagerly shakes his head in agreeance, too scared to respond with any other notion.
“Now, I can tell you’ve never had to put on your big boy pants and put any effort into a single task, so this is gonna be rough, but I’m sure if you try really, really hard, you’ll be able to function somewhat decently, ya?”, conjuring up a smile that was sarcastically sweet, you finish, clasping your hands together to signify you’ve made your point. It wasn’t until the red hot rage within you had started to disperse with the end of your speech that you began to notice one unreasonably large elephant in the room; the crotch of his jeans now tighter than usual, a large protrusion begging to spring free from its confines.
Your first reaction was to scoff, you couldn’t believe he’d gotten off on your tangent, excited by your frustration and cruel words. Thoroughly eyeing up his bulge, you slowly trace your sight up to his reddening cheeks, “that’s the type of stuff you’re into?”.
Finally speaking up, his voice seems shakier than ever, shy and wavering, “well uh- fuck, it’s not my fault you look so damn good when you’re mad”, hyper-aware of the confession he begins to jumble his words, “well, I mean you always look good but- oh god I’m sorry I know I shouldn’t speak to you like this-“
Stepping forward and lifting your hand to the bottom half of his face, you cover the entirety of his mouth, “shut up”, using your other hand to trace lines on his stomach, he retracts, surprised by your touch. With a devious look on your face, you provide him with a proposition, “Do you want me to touch you?”. Since you’ve removed his ability to consent verbally, you await a nonverbal cue, one he provides before you’re able to finish your sentence, an undeniable yes given to you via enthusiastic nod.
Laughing at his eagerness to continue, you taunt him, sliding your northernmost hand into his dense locks and pulling on the strands. The hand once dancing on his abdomen now applying pressure on his clothed member. A string of whimpers already begin to fall from his plump lips, he reacts as if he’s barely been touched before. “You’re so..sensitive, does nobody touch you besides yourself?”, looking into your eyes with heavy lids, he begins to grind into your hand, keen for more friction “nobodies ever touched me quite like this”.
Shaking your head, you pull at his hair once more, lavishing in the power you have over him in this moment. “Really? surprised you haven’t been put in your place sooner, guess somebody had to do it”, outlining his rock solid cock with your hand, you begin a rhythm of running your fingers along his covered shaft, moving up and down his length again and again. A few small droplets of sweat begin to form on his skin, the pleasure he was so eager to receive now turning bitter sweet. Huffing out a sigh and continuing to rock his hips with the motion of your wrist, he pleads “can you please touch it, like- really touch it”.
Increasing the pace you’ve set on the outside of his jeans, you get extremely close to his face, so close that he goes in for a kiss, but you make sure to reject it. “I really don’t think you deserve that”.
Grasping the countertop to his side, he clamps down in frustration, looking to prevent himself from going off the deep end, allowing you to break him so easily. “I promise I’ll do anything you want, really I do”, finally releasing your grip on his hair, you move your hand onto his neck, lightly applying pressure and running your thumb along his jugular. “Baby boy, I’m certain you’d do anything I want no matter what”.
The new pet name seems to excite him further, as he’s now reduced himself to a mewling, needy little toy, giving into your cruel pleasure, twitching and jerking with your every touch. Eyes rolling into the back of his head, he sharply inhales, as if he was taken by surprise, “fuck, please don’t y/n”.
Applying much more pressure on his neck, you giggle, breaking him was so easy, and something you’re certain you’ll continue on future occasions. “Let it go, baby”, his orgasm was coming on fast and strong, you could tell from the way he squirmed beneath your unrelenting touch.
With one final thrust against your hand he trembles, a sweet sob leaving his mouth, making you aware that he’d actually came from nothing more than clothed petting. A small wet patch had formed on his crotch, physical evidence that he’d climaxed in his pants.
Standing up straight and composing yourself, you run your hands down your body to rid your attire of any wrinkles or imperfections. You’d been away from the front of the store for so long, you’re certain somebody must’ve been awaiting service and you didn’t want to look disheveled in front of a customer. Turning on your heels, you glance back at him before exiting to attend to your duties, “change the pants, clean up the mess you’ve made and meet me out front when you’re ready to learn”.
#joe elliott#HOE ELLIOTT#def leppard#joe elliott x reader#joe elliott smut#def leppard smut#smut#omg this picture.. of joe#so nervous i accidentally referred to him as joel in this and never noticed#sorry yall this is.. trash
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Color Me In
When: June 25th Pride Parade day
Warning: cute gay shit
Written in discord with @angelseth
Erik didn't sleep. He didn't have to, not after staying asleep for centuries on end, but that night he let himself be lulled by Seth's steady breath to a state of semi consciousness, a hazy and comfortable space.
He didn't realize when he sun sneaked into the sky, taken by surprise when ray of sunlight warmed his foot. The dragon had the angel in his arms, tangled with the soft white sheets when he opened his eyes, staring up at the glass wall. He had half a mind to wake Seth up, the view was stunning, but one look down to his face was enough to decide against him. He looked so peaceful, with his soft freckles across his cheeks and his parted lips, Erik didn't have the heart to disturb him. So instead he let his thumb rub against his hipbone, tracing circles over the soft skin.
Everything that had happened in the past weeks was not close at all to anything that Seth had ever experienced before. He was amazed at playing human. He enjoyed it to no end, but he had never felt anything similar to this in is over a hundred years and he was honest, it was a tad scary, but still, he wanted to get immersed in it and find out if this was what humans always bragged about and what his cherub siblings always talked about. Waking up next to Erik was something unexplainable. Seth was unable to say why he had even fallen asleep when it was not a common practice to hum even if his vessel did need some rest from time to time. But the calmness and warmth the dragon had brought into his life made it too easy to feel more and more human. The kisses and touches had gone from chaste to heated but still on a safe territory for him and he wondered if it was Erik’s reason to keep him untainted from Lust. Either way, it was soothing to feel the dragon’s soft touches. Especially in moments like this when he was on the verge of waking up. The Grigori smiled and flickered his eyes open gently as he stirred and shifted closer, “I fell asleep on you again,” the words came in a soft whisper as h licked his lips, “I should cook breakfast as an apology, shouldn’t I?”
Erik smiled at the sight of Seth stirring awake, he looked too adorable not to. There was a chuckle rumbling in his chest when Seth started talking and Erik ran his fingers through the angel's hair, fondly pushing the few lost strands off of his eyes "Nope" Erik whispered back, stretching himself out before pulling him closer and wrapping his arm back around him "You're not leaving this bed for at least ten more minutes, no chance" he hummed, locking eyes with him "Nice sleep?"
The involuntary smile painted on Seth's face was one of the few unexplainable things that kept on happening around Erik and he was enjoying it far too much for it to be allowed, but the angel didn’t want to worry about that too much. One of the Grigori’s hand moved to press it over the dragon’s chest, feeling his heartbeat under his fingers as their eyes locked, “Are you not hungry?” the question came still in a very soft murmur, “It was a nice sleep, yes, but I am ashamed of how easy it is turning into a bad habit to fall asleep in you. My vessel must be quite tired. Or very relaxed around you.”
Erik made a funny face, as if he was pondering the option "Maybe a little, but it can wait a while. One should never mess with things like fire right after waking up, that can be dangerous" he teased with a smirk "I'm sure they covered that I'm chef school?" The dragon joked, feeling Seth’s hand pressed right over his scar, a shiver running through his spine. Oh that could end so bad. "I like to think it's the later. If it makes you feel any better, you weren't the only sleepy one."
The hilarity on the angel’s face was obvious, “Are you talking about cooking, or about yourself?” Seth questioned humorously. The shiver didn’t go unnoticed for the young angel and a light frown crossed his features, “Are you okay?” the concern sounding clear on the tone of his voice. “I would like to think so as well. One day I will ask him,” it was a promise since from time to time, Seth did get to talk to his vessel to make sure he was okay. “I thought you said you didn’t need to sleep after a long slumber.”
Erik let out a surprised bubbly laugh at that question "I was talking about a stove, but I mean... You're not wrong. So for future reference:" he was chuckling, pulling Seth closer to kiss his lips "If you're handling me after waking up, treat lightly" he joked, nuzzling his neck "I'm fine, nothing to worry your pretty head about" the dragon dismissed it, not wanting to burst their bubble with things like his heart or traumatic past. "Well, then tell him I said hey - and complimented him on his tattoos, great choice" he smiled "I don't need to, but you were comfy" the dragon laughed "So, I hear there's a parade going on today."
It brought a nice feeling to be the causing of that laugh. The best part is that it was contagious so Seth laughed too, “I am being careful,” the angel said impishly as he let his fingertips to trace up from the dragon’s chest to his cheek as he leaned in to press their lips together in second chaste kiss. As much as Erik asked him not to worry, it was part of Seth’s personality to worry for those who had become important in his life and Erik had become very important in so little time. “I will make sure to tell him that, I will have to let him know about you. Sometimes I share some memories with him and he does with me,” the Grigori explained. “I’m glad you believe so, it would be very awkward if it was not,” the smile was back. “Yes, yes there is. It is to celebrate pride month. I usually work today and bake colorful cupcakes on the store to give them away, but I decided not to this year and to join the festivities,” Seth explained as he propped himself up on his arm, “Are you going to celebrate too?”
Erik chuckled, lifting his hand to a stray lock of his hair. Fuck, that smile. "Oh, so you're going to share memories of us with him? Now I feel important." He teased, though it was the truth. It was like someone telling their best friend about you, it felt nice. "Well, I am a dragon, pride is half of my personality" he joked with a chuckle "And I do love a festival, so... But remind me again, what are we prideful of?"
Seth shook his head, “No, not of us. Only some memories I have of you, when we met so he knows who I’m talking about, “ the angel cleared out. Erik had a very valid point, Seth knew how prideful dragons were so it made sense but it still amused him the way he said it, “You are aware that same sex couples had been frowned upon among humans for a long time, aren’t you? It has been a few years since people stopped hiding and being hunted because of their sexual preferences and that is why they celebrate being proud of being who they are, no matter who they love and to be loud about equality.”
Erik smirked "So you talk about me, huh?" he preened, then let out a surprised "Oh!" before smiling again "So it's like a gay parade? That sounds like so much fun! I was never really into human politics, things were a little more lax when you were at sea, but I've heard awful stories of land. I wonder how these festivals are nowadays. I bet you have to sign up for it online, don't you?" He groaned, grumpy "There's always an online aspect for stuff nowadays." he rolled his eyes before looking back at the angel "Do people go to these festivities with their dates?"
“No, I have not talked to Josh in a while. I do it every few months or so, but I hadn’t done it yet this time,” and then Seth noticed he had used his vessel’s name for the first time in front of someone. He never did that for the safety of his vessel’s life. For a moment, the angel got serious and nervous. He trusted Erik, he honestly did, but that had been a major slip that should not have happened. The excitement from the dragon at the mention of the gay parade was enough to distract him and bring his mind back into the previous conversation, “Yes, yes, a gay parade is a good way to describe it,” the Grigori agreed. “No, no there is no need to sign up, we can just go there and I suppose people do bring their dates. This will be the first time I attend. I supported it differently the past years.”
"Josh?" He asked, grinning and propping himself on his elbows to give him a better look. "It's a nice name, suits this face" he said gently running his fingers along his cheek "We should go together" he said simply, his voice much softer, vulnerable. He wasn't used to not knowing if people would tell him yes or no "If you don't have other plans, that is. We could keep your tradition, bake... whatever it is you bake, and then go to this party" he pushed Seth's hair off his face "If you'd like to join me, that is?"
“You seem to like him a lot,” Seth ribbed this time as he leaned into the touch. Now he wondered if Erik would be so interested if his vessel was another one. Perhaps he would ask the dragon, but not now. The angel only wanted to enjoy this for a little longer. “I would like that, yes,” his answer quick and honest. He could sense the uncertainty coming off in waves from Erik and Seth did not like it. He only hoped the dragon could see the eagerness of spending time together was mutual. “We do not need to bake. I would much rather walk around and enjoy the festivities with you. It could be a nice mundane first experience for both of us to share.”
Erik chuckled at that "Jealous?" he hummed, pulling the angel in for a soft kiss "I like you a lot" he corrected, then smiled when Seth accepted his invitation. "That sounds like an amazing plan" the dragon grinned before playfully rolling them around so he could hover over Seth with a smirk, pinning him in place "The only flaw of it is the part where you leave this bed."
A frown tarnished the Grigori’s expression and there was confusion in his eyes, “I do not know how jealousy feels like,” Seth admitted. Learning the vast range of human emotions and experiencing them was a very different thing. Seth had learned a lot in his years as a human but had never gotten attached enough to feel something like love or jealousy. It confused him why Erik found it amusing when he knew it was a feeling normally perceived as negative. That cloud of confusion was quickly removed from his head when the dragon hovered over him and looked at him in such a way. It was beguiling, “I could always share my bed with you tonight if you wish so,” the angel offered as both hands moved to cup Erik’s face.
Erik perked with interest, an almost unbelieving smile on his lips. It was fascinating to see the angel figure things like this out "It feels... warm, but a wrong kind of warm. Like you have an itch that you can only scratch when you get someone's attention back to you" he tried to explain "Which you have, by the way. My attention" he added. The dragon arched an eyebrow at the offer, leaning instinctively his cheek against his hands "How forward of you, inviting me to your bed when the sun has barely awoken" he chuckled, loved the idea. "So we're going to your place after the festival, is that what I'm hearing?"
The frown remained as Seth tried to understand what Erik explained. What he had felt and the way he had worded his question had not been led by the sentiment Erik just described, “It was not jealousy,” his voice soft, “I am not sure what it was, but it did not feel the way you said it,” Seth explained. Hearing he had Erik’s attention did break another feeling he was growing acquaintance with. The concept of feeling butterflies for someone was foreign and unreal, but now he understood it and liked it more than he would express. “I assumed that would be a good compromise since you seem so reluctant of me leaving your bed,” there was a slight tilt of the angel’s head, “Only if you wish so.”
"Well then it wasn't jealousy" he shrugged it off "It makes me wonder though, what are you feeling right now" the dragon smirked at his next words, leaning down to properly crowd over him, pressing their chests together, his elbows against the mattress on each side of Seth's head "I'm reluctant of letting you go" he corrected, bumping their noses together "But the prospect of a day with you is an acceptable compromise."
Erik was very hard to predict. It was probably because he was not human and Seth had only learned not predict human nature. Dragons were impulsive and the angel was aware, but he had never imagined this much. Those words as simple and innocent as it sounded had Seth’s heart racing and the blood rush to his cheeks as he eyes looked down and the corners of his lips showed a nervous smile, “I am feeling too much to describe at the moment, but I can assure you there is not a pinch of ill sentiments,” the angel promised as his blue eyes returned to those dark ones. “You will have to let go of me for a short moment so we can properly repair for the parade,” Seth pointed in a matter-of-fact voice. “Will you not get bored of being around me for so long?”
Seth blushing and stumbling to put his feelings into words was one of the most adorable sights the dragon had seen. "In that case, I'm glad" he said with a smile before pressing their lips together and murmuring against his lips with a knowing smile "That's your cue to take a breath before your heart burst out of your chest."
The reminder got him faking a sigh and he rolled off Seth and onto the floor, sliding off the mattress as graciously as possible, getting to his feet "I'm going to need some directions though, I have no idea what kind of outfit is appropriated for the parade" he said before laughing "Oh you could stay for the week and I doubt I'd get bored, love" he smiled brightly before moving away from his bed, purposefully so he wouldn't climb back in "You have ten seconds before I give up on the parade and decide to just hold you hostage in that bed"
Seth was realizing how difficult it was to follow Erik’s line of thoughts or his actions. The constant teasing and flirting were slightly overwhelming but the angel was liking it very much. And those kisses! The Grigori never expected a kiss to feel like that. There was a smile when they broke apart even if his eyes stayed closed for a heartbeat, “Can you hear it?” Seth questioned, “And if that happens it would be dangerous, then why are you so smug about it?” the tease implicit in his words.
Erik letting himself fall to the floor to give Seth some space was the most amusing thing the angel had witnessed so far, “You did not have to do that,” the pout was back as Seth sat up on the mattress. “You only need to be comfortable. The rainbow colors are appreciated, but not mandatory. Some people like to show a lot of skin, some others do not. There is no wrong dress code for this,” The Grigori assured. “I want to believe you, but I do not think it is possible not to get bored of spending so much time with one person,” it was a foreign thought for the angel. “No, please, I am ready to make breakfast and then I will have to leave but we can meet at my apartment in a couple of hours if that is okay,” Seth was already on his feet looking for his discarded clothes.
Erik chuckled at his words, nodding with a smirk "Clear as day" he answered gently before another chuckle "Well because I put that drumming in there, I'm proud of it." Thinking for a little while, Erik pouted "I don't think I have anything rainbow" he complained before smirking "I bet you're one of those who walk around parading all those tattoos, showing every inch of skin you cover every day, don't you?" He joked, because clearly Seth was the opposite. Watching him gather his clothes, Erik leaned down, grabbing one of his socks and stretching his arm offering it "You’re saying you'd get bored of me? I'm wounded, babe."
“Are you trying to give my vessel a heart attack?” Seth question with a perfectly practiced serious expression that he did not mean at all and the smile at the end was what gave the angel away. “You do seem to enjoy the reactions you are getting out of me,” Seth stated, “It makes me wonder if you too enjoy the reactions I get from you.”
As he put on his shirt, Seth smiled, “I am sure you will look amazing no matter what you decide to wear,” the angel insisted, and then a bubbly clear laugh slipped from his lips, “I am not sure that goes with my personality, nor Josh’s. I do try to wear something tamer for this,” he did not mention he already had his outfit at his apartment, but Erik would probably guess it by now. The angel took the sock and shook his head, “That is not at all what I meant. I am only saying that I do not believe someone would like to be around me for that long time.”
The dragon laughed with an arched brow "Not at all, just like to keep you on your toes" he teased "What reactions do you think you get from me?" He said watching the man move, a pout when he saw him covering those gorgeous tattoos with a shirt.
The laugh got him smiling though, he really liked the sound "Oh so I get a special view then, got it" he licked his lips "Then you'll just need to give me the opportunity to prove you wrong, won't you?"
The angel certainly had grown fonder of Erik’s laugh. He liked seeing that smile lit up his face and the clear ring of his laugh, “You do keep me on my toes for many reasons,” Seth murmured coyly as he moved closer to the dragon and in fact stood on his toes to be able to press a kiss on the taller man’s lips. “I am not quite sure yet, but I am aware there are good reactions, otherwise you would not invite me into your home nor bed anymore.”
Seth wasn’t sure how to answer that. There were few others that the Grigori had laid in bed half-naked with, and as much as he would like Erik to know that. The angel was still being careful to what this between them meant, “I suppose you do for now,” were his only words, the smile clear on his face and voice. “It was not a challenge; it was merely a comment. You do not have to do anything you do not want, Erik.”
Erik chuckled, arching a teasing brow, and then laughing when Seth kissed him. By getting on his actual toes. The dragon held the angel by his hips, keeping him close and leaning down to make it last just a moment longer "Yes, yes, but you don't have to worry your little halo about it, your invitation to my bed is still open" he hummed, then grinned "Oh, you couldn't make me do anything I don't want, love. If I'm spending time with you it's for the sole selfish reason that yes, I want to" and with that he sneaked his hands under his shirt, pulling him in for a claiming kiss for good measure.
Having the dragon keep him close to his warm body certainly caused Seth to feel those butterflies again, “I am glad to hear so, I must admit I do enjoy sharing your bed a lot,” the admission so open that it even surprised Seth himself. The words and kiss were very welcome and the angel let his hands slid from Erik’s naked chest to his neck and into his hair as they kiss. He could tell thing would get heated if they didn’t break apart so reluctantly, he broke apart with a sigh, “If we keep that going, we will not have a proper breakfast.”
Erik hummed "Who'd have thought a mattress on the floor would be my favorite, huh?" he teased with a smirk. The dragon shivered once again when the angel slid his hands up, brushing that x scar ever so slightly. The hand on his hair made him let out a soft moan, and Erik swallowed thickly after the kiss, nodding, and respectfully letting go of his hips, taking a step back "As much as I want to say fuck it to that breakfast, we have plans. And I do want to see you in your element" he took a step closer again, running his fingers gently through Seth's hair, pushing it back "Come on, food awaits."
“It could easily be everyone’s favorite. It is very comfortable and the setting is quite nice,” Seth’s words true and unaware of is Erik meant something different than just the comfortableness of his bed. The sounds falling from the dragon’s lips caused the angel to shiver. It was a reaction he was learning to understand but as with everything that came from Erik, Seth was enjoying it quite a lot. Their breakfast flew by and soon it was time for the Grigori to go back to his apartment to get ready. An hour later, Erik was picking him up so they could go find a nice spot on the main street to watch the parade. Seth was wearing something simple and not too revealing as others on the street. The black cap with the rainbows stripes covering his messy hair and protecting him from the sun. Erik on the other hand was all in black and he was certainly lacking some colors for the festivity, “Would you mind if I try something to get you in a more festive tone?”
Erik was annoyed when he was left alone. He soon realized his closet has mainly consisted of whites and browns and blacks for the past five hundred years of so. Pride seemed to be all about color, but he didn't have any to wear, so instead he focused on looking good and black seemed a nice option. Plus, those leather pants made his butt look really nice.
Seth looked absolutely adorable though and Erik decided that hats suited him. "You look great" he said simply with a smile, then tilted his head to the side curiously at the request "Well, be my guest, love" the dragon answered with a grin, arms open "What do you have in mind?"
“Thank you, Erik, you do look nice too, but I believe a splash of color would help,” and his smile got brighter when he got the dragon’s permission to try something. The angel raised a finger as if indicating the taller man to wait there as he turned around and walked to one of the small stands and talked to the seller. Then he came back with a face crayon with the colors of the flag, “I will need you to lean down for a bit. You are quite tall for me to reach,” Seth said in a soft voice. Once Erik did as he was asked, the angel uncapped the crayon and drew a simple line on Erik’s cheek right above the line of his beard, “There it is! Just enough color,” he beamed proudly at his work of art.
Erik hummed, watching him move. He was chuckling when he leaned down, closing his eyes when Seth held his face still with gentle fingers to draw that line. He had a smile when he opened his eyes back up again "Am I officially in the theme now?" he asked, standing straight again turning around to check himself in the reflection of a parked car nearby. "I like it" he stated, turning back with a grin reaching for the angel's hand to pull him closer "Where to now?"
“Yes, you are,” Seth assured as he capped the crayon and put it in his pocket. The angel was glad to see the dragon honestly approved the silly idea he had to give him some color according to the theme. Even if their mood was light and playful, Seth was not expecting much physical contact in public, therefore he was somewhat surprised when Erik took his hand and pulled him closer. His hand squeezing Erik’s for a moment as he looked up and smiled, “We need to find a nice spot to be able to watch the parade. It will be easy for you with your height, I would need to get closer to the front.”
Erik noticed the man's reaction when he was pulled closer, waiting to see if it would be okay, but the smile he got pushed any question away. "Well" he said "I could always hold you on my shoulders" the dragon smirked, leaning in to say in his ear so the passersby wouldn't hear it "I'd never say no to the opportunity of having your legs around my neck, love, even if it's outside the bedroom" he licked his lips pulling back with a shit eating grin.
Just as Seth was about to decline the offer with the argument that he was probably heavier than he looked like, Erik decided to lean closer and tease him with those suggestive words that only caused the blush on his cheeks to increase to levels he didn’t remember seeing on his vessel’s face. The angel almost choked on his breath and stopped his mind from wandering to form images that would match those words as he looked at Erik and shook his head, “Are you trying to make red my permanent color? You should not tease me with those things. Especially in public,” the angel reprimanded playfully.
Erik basked in the view he got, the smirk now glued to his face "You did mention people were colorful for the parade" he joked, then licked his lips, eyes locked with the angel's "But doing it in public is so much fun" he teased again, knowing full well how dirty that sounded before chuckling and pulling him by the hand. He stopped by the street where the parade was going, somehow managing a nice spot up front where he wrapped his arms around Seth and held him close, the angel's back pressed against his chest so they both could watch the people pass by "Oh wow, you weren't kidding when you said people were colorful!"
Seth only shook his head, unable to stop smiling at how easily the dragon was teasing and getting him all flushed and a little bothered. “You are terrible,” were the angel’s only words as he let Erik pull him by the hand until they found a good spot. It would be impossible for the angel to deny how nice this was, having those arms wrapping around him from behind as he unconsciously leaned back slightly against Erik’s chest, feeling his warmth and heartbeat steady against him. The feeling waking inside of him was still mostly unknown but it was very pleasant. The Grigori looked over his shoulder and smiled, “I did mention it. It is very joyful,” and without hesitation, he placed both his hands on top of Erik’s as he turned back his attention to the parade.
It was certainly a new experience. They danced to the music of the parade here and there, commented on what they were seeing and even got some people in the colorful floats yelling about how adorable they looked. He enjoyed having Seth with him, even just knowing he was at arm's reach was enough to keep that stupid heart in his chest at peace. It was late now and he wasn't sure how long it's been since they arrived, but he could see the sun setting behind the angel's head as he offered him an ice cream cone, keeping one for himself "So. Twenty-four hours with me. Are you bored?" He asked teasingly, taking a bite of his ice cream.
This year’s pride parade was for sure the best Seth had so far. In the past years, he had fun and he enjoyed making people smile when he gifted them decorated cupcakes and cookies. He enjoyed seeing the happy couple walk around hand in hand with a big smile and real pride on their faces. Love could be felt in the air but this time, with him being somehow part of those couples. Having someone to share it with, was something he would cherish a lot. The angel was normally smiley, but he couldn’t remember another time when he had smiled this much.
He accepted the ice cream cone and pretended to think over his answer, “Absolutely not. I must admit there had been the best twenty-four hours I’ve had in a long time,” the angel admitted as he reached to tentatively take Erik’s free hand, “Thank you,” Seth’s words spoken in a gentle tone, “Are we going back to my apartment, or would you rather me escort you to your place?” he asked coyly, clearly remembering how he had promised to share his bed with the dragon the next time they spend the night together.
Erik loved to hear those words, a smile on his face as he rubbed Seth's hand with his thumb "I'm glad to hear that. That was a very different date, but... yeah, I think one of the best" he agreed, then the dragon grinned "Are you offering your services as an escort to me, love?" he teased with a smirk before softening his tone "Wanna go for the 48h mark?"
Seth’s heart fluttered inside his chest at the admission from dragon. It was good to hear they both had felt as comfortable on this unplanned date. “Are you always going to turn my words against me?” the angel asked with an infrequent pout before giving his ice cream an innocent lick. “Only of you think you would be okay spending that many hours with me.”
Erik decided he really liked that view, Seth smiling. "Are you always going to make it that easy?" he teased back with a smile of his own before stepping closer and letting go of his hand. "I think I'd like that a lot" he almost whispered before raising his hand to cup his jaw and kissing his pout away.
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One would think that in such a restaurant bar such as this, -- a branch-off of a four-star tourist-trap hotel, a hub of travel-weary businesspeople and high school socialites with fake IDs, all in top-brand suits and casuals and shoes -- the drinks would be the nectar milked from the teats of whatever deities represented alcoholic drinks.
But they’re shit. They’re absolute shit.
Still, Peter sat hunched over his glass of gin, musing without amusement how it would be no different if he just went to any old convenience store with a medical shelf, buy a bottle of rubbing alcohol with a high isopropyl content and down that, instead. No, there would be one difference: it wouldn’t taste as watered-down.
He planted the slice of lemon in his mouth, nibbling it to mitigate some of the taste of disappointment, scrolling through his home feed to stave off the awful mood of being wrung dry by the bearded, buff barbarian in a sleek black button-up, and the faceless corporation that he worked for. But some part of him was looking to feed his foul mood, or maybe he was feeling adventurous, because he mulled over whether or not he should order a glass of champagne and keep the train of minor bad decisions going. It was the weekend, after all, and he wouldn’t need to be back to work for another week.
When he forced another sip of the gin down his throat, Peter was ready to decide against it when a flute appeared before him, anyhow. “Er...” Peter said, reaching for the waiter’s arm to stop him from popping open the bottle. “I didn’t order this.”
The waiter across the room. “Courtesy of the gentleman over there.”
Furrowing his brow, Peter turned his stool in the direction the server pointed out, ignoring the gentle pop of the undone cork and the hiss of bubbles.
Immediately, a hand rose above the crowd, the crystal whiskey glass capturing what light it could in this dimly-lit cave and twinkling many colors like a beacon in a gray sea.
Either the distance and the low lights must be to blame, or Peter must be forgiven for being mean, but the guy looked like a bore.
Average rectangular frame, his receding and lackluster dark hair snipped into a budget hair style, slacks that were reminiscent of the private high schools of every wild child’s nightmare. Only thing about the man that stood out (at least from across the room) was the well-worn leather jacket with its tarnished buckles, a vintage beauty that spoke to Peter’s tendency for nostalgia.
But a jacket ain’t enough to impress, so Peter turned back to the server to order him to take the drink back, only to find that the man had already disappeared, leaving the filled flute and the open bottle on the bar table.
“Ah, shit...” Peter mumbled. He picked up the flute and lifted it, lips curled in a half-assed grin to the “gentleman”, whose own face seemed to brightened. And then...
“Ah, shit!” Peter hissed under his breath as he watched the other man rise out of his seat god fucking damn it. And despite his attempt to look casual, the guy sure was legging it, a quarter of the way to Peter’s table by the time Peter had drained half the flute. And maybe the bubbles were getting to Peter’s head, because in the blink of an eye, the gentleman was easing himself onto the seat next to Peter, resting his elbows on the table, giving an oozing, schmoozing smile as Peter hurried to refill his glass.
“I had a feeling you’d like the top-quality stuff,” the gentleman said.
The “top-quality” stuff tasted like diet off-brand grape soda two years past its expiration date, but still... “Thank you,” Peter murmured. His gratitude was genuine; at least he wouldn’t have to waste money on what he knew was going to be an awful drink thanks to the generosity of the other man. That didn’t change the fact that he kept his head down, eyes on his phone screen, his voice soft from immediate withdrawal of this conversation.
Of course, the gentleman took it as modesty, and leaned in a bit closer. “You know, it’s been pretty hard finding a lady so refined around here.”
Peter almost choked on the drink, barely catching himself. He cleared his throat, reaching for the folded napkin left with the bottle to dab away the drops on his lips. Thank god for Vice lipstick.
Peter knew he could never hope for the rich baritone of James Earl Jones or Vin Diesel, but he had something, so he used it when he lifted his head and returned the gentleman’s grin. “Why, thank you, sir.” Then, he waited for the not-all-that-feminine deep voice to register on the other man’s voice, for the man’s eyes to go clear and see all the subtle masculine traits hidden underneath the fashion, like the beginnings of an angular jaw despite the youthful plump and rosiness of Peter’s cheeks, or the broadness of Peter’s lean shoulders to make up for the lack of bodybuilder muscles, or a chest that was flat beyond bee-sting A cups. He waited for...
Well, Peter didn’t know what reaction he was waiting for -- confused, maybe over-the-top like the man apologizing profusely or toppling from his chair to get away, or red in the face and foamy at the mouth, as if Peter’s mere existence in a dress was to cheat him out of an unrequested drink -- but he didn’t expect the heat in the man’s eyes to burn brighter, or the flash of white teeth as the man briefly nibbled his bottom lip.
For a moment, Peter froze, his mouth cinching close, his jaw locking, something besides the cheap grape juice curdling in his gut. He lowered the glass and tried to wade through the conflicting storms of his hunger for attention and the electrical fright that made him want to zap right out of the room. He gazed around, telepathically calling for an adult, any adult, to come intervene.
The man curled his fingers around Peter’s chin and tilted his head back to him, taking in Peter’s wider eyes and, once more, mistaking it for whatever Peter didn’t even want to know. The man’s brow quirked. He lowered his hand to Peter’s forearm. How can a hand be so dry yet so clammy? “I guess you don’t really do this often, do you?”
When Peter slowly and silently shook his head, something alit even brighter in the man’s eyes. “Wait... would I be the first?”
Peter would have answered, would have said “no”, not because he had experience with this before, but because he had no experience with this before and he wasn’t planning on doing so ever. But he was frozen further with shock, stunned at the eager in the question, as if the gentleman wanted a resounding “yes”. He swallowed against the tightness of his throat.
The gentleman chuckled before Peter could say anything. “Wow.... well, alright, then! Don’t worry, I can make your first time here splendid, so you know how to do this right. Do you want to name your price here, or over dinner, or in the room?”
Peter shook his head. “I don’t want--” He blinked, feeling his mouth fall open. “Wait, what?”
The gentleman reached over Peter to get the napkin. He flicked it open, and both of them watched as the plastic card with the hotel’s blue and lavender logo landed on the surface. The man picked up the key card, and the gleam on the man’s wrist finally caught Peter’s eyes. A large, silver watch studded with diamonds around the face. What also hadn’t passed Peter’s notice was the twinkle of the golden band around the other man’s finger.
The storm in Peter’s head brewed more violently, as fire burned under his skin and spread all over his face. He wondered what part of his ensemble -- a brown cashmere jacket, a baby blue skater dress, and black boots no taller than his ankles (wait, was it the fishnet stockings?!) -- gave this guy the idea that Peter was in that part of the field. He imagined that somewhere out there, a wife and two and a half kids were tucked away in a picket fence property, waiting for the return of this piece of shit. And enthralled by the fury that the last thought wrought, Peter developed an urge to throw the drink into this man’s face, followed by a fist with the full force of four tons of steel and concrete.
And centered in the wild storm, still and resolute like a shelter promising protection from the lethal weather, was another bad idea.
Peter kept his eyes wide, holding on to some semblance of his dissipating shock and confusion to help sell the act. He took another tentative sip of his drink. “Oh, well, okay. We can just go to your room, if you want. We can also make it a party if we have another one of these...” He picked up the open bottle and slowly swirled it, tilting his head.
The man nodded and raised a hand to grab the waiter’s attention.
---
Excitement set Peter’s fingertips tingling.
It came not from the bottle of champagne passed between himself and John (not really the guy’s name), nor from the smacking wet lips and the pawing hands John pressed against whatever part of Peter’s body he could reach (at least he had enough decency to not try to kiss Peter’s mouth). It came from the idea taking root within Peter’s skull. Through the buzz, Peter realized that the idea was a fuzzy picture that needed further development. So, he sharpened the image, turning it over as the two men stumbled arm-in-arm out the elevator and down the hall. A familiar stoicism settled in his chest as he tried to work out all the kinks, thought over the many ways this could go wrong and how to prevent them or weasel his way out of them. He felt like he was on the battlefield again in trying to make this foolproof.
That stony, removed feeling crumbled to dust when John stopped in front of a door and fumbled to stick his keycard in the slot with drunk hands. Oh shit, came the sobering thought once again. I’m really going to do this.
The door beeped and John reached behind him to grab Peter’s wrist. Peter let out a series of yelps as John tugged him inside, slammed the door shut, shoved Peter against the door, and locked him in place by tangling his legs with Peter’s legs and wrapping an arm around the small of Peter’s back. And then, to the Sealander’s utter, stomach-dropping horror, came the humping.
It shouldn’t have surprised Peter, since he knew what John was after, but to so suddenly be thumping against the wooden door while some drunkard ground...pound...rubbed? What was John even thinking he was doing? He was doing something with his pulsing ere..ction against Peters pelvis, and whatever it was, Peter’s body was stunned, the lights above them blinding his eyes as he tried to turn his head away, with a thought ringing loud:
I can’t do this.
Ican’tdothisIcan’tdothisIcan’tdothisIcan’tdothisIcan’tdothisIcan’tdothis
And his fort called to him, ready to put some force in his fight whenever he was ready, reminding him that he had no need to succumb to the sickening, sinking terror and regret. And, oh, how much easier it would make things, to just bash John’s nose in or throat punch him, watch him struggle to breath until he fell unconscious, or punch him in the chest and hope that it was the right moment, the split second between heartbeats...
Then John’s other hand slid up the wall, and Peter caught the shine of his wedding band before John tangled his fingers into Peter’s hair, tugging to angle his head and expose his neck. The fear rot into anger, the anger into dogged and vengeful determination, as Peter felt John reach down to tug at his skirt, and slobber against his neck, “So, how much?”
Peter grabbed onto that moment of clarity, calmed himself with it to think clearly, and began wriggling and shifting his body until John was dry humping Peter’s outer thigh. He let out a flat p.or.n star moan, louder and more strained than John’s muffled grunting, and tugged at the shell of John’s ear with his teeth. “That depends, sweetheart: what do you want, and how long you can go.” And because he was feeling silly, he dropped one of the bottles -- it was mostly empty, anyway -- and used his free hand to smack the tragically tiny bump through John’s slacks that must have to pass for John’s ass cheek. It felt like hitting a brick wall.
But it worked. John backed off enough for Peter to guide them away from the door and to sit his gentleman caller on a nearby chair. He then mounted John’s lap with enough space between them that Peter wouldn’t feel John’s enthusiasm between his legs again, and wrenched the cork out of the second bottle with his teeth. John laid out his demands in a tone that sounded like suggestions, snaking a hand up Peter’s skirt. Peter tossed out some high bullshit numbers to demands he forgot the moment they were spoken, putting the bottle to John’s lips and taking John’s hand off his thigh to suck on one of his fingers (and hoping that the bathroom had complementary mouthwash). With the deal made and already forgotten on Peter’s part, Peter slid off John’s lap and unlaced his boots.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Peter said, toeing his footwear off and shrugging out of his jacket, “I’d like to get freshened up for you. Get the stuff ready for us?” When John tugged out a condom and packet of lube from his pocket with a nod, Peter skipped off to the bathroom.
He closed the door and went to the sink. He turned the water on, and then began the shakes. With trembling fingers and unsteady hands, Peter tried to splash cold water on his face, multiple times, and only stopped once the temperature made his teeth chatter worse and after getting water all over the sink top, the floor, and some of his hair that fell to his face. He straightened, yanking a hand towel from the rack and patting his face dry, then wetting a corner of it to wipe down his neck and collarbone and legs, not caring that it was wetting his stockings as long as the feeling can be scrubbed off.
The towel dropped to the floor; Peter searched frantically for the mouthwash and, finding it, guzzled half the tiny bottle and swishing it until it burned into his gums. He spat, and felt so awful for the housekeeper who will have to come in and clean his mess, but when he straightened from the bowl and looked at the mess reflected in the mirror, Peter’s focused was on one thing:
He was going to do this.
He was already nauseous, still stunned by the feel of another man’s erection to the point of being dizzy, but he was in a foul enough mood to want to go through with it.
So, he left the bathroom, finding John standing in the middle of the room, holding a phone to his ear.
“--sweetie, I’ll be home in a couple days, then we can take that vacation.”
Peter approached John’s back, feeling a twinge of satisfaction as he pressed himself against John’s jacket, nestled his chin on John’s shoulder, and ran his palms up and down John’s thighs (not exactly touching anywhere near the pitch tent) then his hips, and then the brick wall that was his ass. It felt mechanical, like Peter playing airport security, but the grazing hands were enough to draw out a sharp gasp from his... client.
“Listen, I’ll have to call you tomorrow, I need to get some rest for tomorrow’s meeting. Love you, bye!”
John tossed the phone on the bed. He gave a shiver as Peter’s hands roamed higher and massage his chest through his shirt.
Peter kissed John’s shoulder through the jacket. “Hey, you promised me that you’ll make my first time doing this splendid, right?” he murmured.
“Mhm,” John moaned.
Peter nuzzled his nose along the back of John’s neck, breathed on it, whispering, “Well... what if I don’t want splendid? What if I want real? What if I want...” he disguised the chuckle over this utter bullshit as a breathy, needy moan. “Wild?”
John furrowed his eyebrows. “Wild?”
Peter grabbed the jacket’s lapels and yanked them back, wrenching the fabric down until it bunched messily around John’s wrist and bound them behind his back. This could have gone south quickly; maybe John wasn’t into bondage, maybe he was repulsed by it. Maybe he found the idea infuriating, that some fresh-faced streetwalker new to the game and too stupid to ask for money upfront thinks he’s so special, thinks he’s so cute, that he can just change up the terms and, worse, dominate? And maybe Peter was hoping for that, hoping that John would be so turned off that he’d throw Peter out.
But then Peter grabbed a fistful of John’s hair and yanked his head back. The man let out a choked whimper, his hips twitching forward.
“How much would you cough up to make this unforgettable for me?” Peter grunted, toying with John’s belt and holding in a shudder as he felt the cock push against the fabric.
John opened his eyes, and Peter could see them rolled to the back of his head. “You can clear out my bank account.”
It would be a lie to say that Peter wasn’t tempted, to reverse course and make this a real transaction. Why the fuck should he care about some faceless woman far away, it wasn’t Peter’s marriage in the ruins. And maybe a night of getting laid would do his foul mood some good; probably not a good lay, but how the hell would Peter know the difference?
Plus, who wouldn’t want to be swimming in coin for a night of feigned passion?
Then the phone started to buzz, and the groan John howled out wasn’t pleasure. “God, I hope that bitch isn’t calling me, again.”
Peter pressed his tongue to his cheek. Nope, none of that was worth it.
He unfastened the belt and trailed enticing kisses along John’s shoulder, up to behind his ear as he worked the button and fly. He tugged the pants down to the ankles, ordering John to step out of them. He led John to the bed and pushed him facedown on the mattress, and went back to take out the belt from the discarded pants. When he returned to the bed, Peter looked down on the sprawling figure with his ass in the air. If he pulled down John’s unremarkable undies down to his ankles, Peter could just leave him like that, since by the time John hobbled his way to the door and managed to get it open, Peter would be long gone. But Peter had to be careful, see how far and how much he could take this.
Standing beside the bed, Peter freed John from his temporary restraints and flipped him onto his back. A hip jutting out, with his teeth biting on his bottom lip, Peter wound one end of the belt around a hand and yanked, snapping the belt. He’d think that with all the times he’s posed like this in front of the camera, it would come easily to him now, but maybe it’s too different when the viewer was right there, and could see his face. Yet, for all the awkwardness Peter felt, John didn’t seem to sense it, gazing up at Peter with glazed-over eyes.
Peter moved John’s hands up to the bed post. Once the watch and ring came off and were set on the bedside table, muscle memory took over, and Peter could almost smell the salt of the sea and the rust of his fort as he looped the belt around the wrists and the wooden post like the many times he secured items to his platform. One final tug, and the leather was biting into John’s limb, already rubbing the skin red as John squirmed to get comfortable. Peter’s hands trailed down John’s arm, down his torso, going to his lap and digging fingernails into the flesh, feeling nothing when John’s breath hitch and came out in a low hiss, still feeling removed when he released John’s thigh and left nail marks.
‘Oh, god,” John rasped, his head lolling to the side. “Oh, please fuck me, Mistress.”
Peter wanted him to shut up, so he stepped back, hiking his skirt up to tug off his boxer briefs and stockings, overly aware of John watching him. He separated the garments, balling the underwear up in his fist. “Open your mouth. Now.”
John’s mouth dropped open, his eyes rolled back once more at the taste of Peter’s fabric being stuffed inside. Surreptitiously, Peter tucked his skirt between his thighs to add another layer of barrier between his own exposure and John as he half-straddled the man’s lap. He hooked his finger through John’s neck tie and undid it, forcing his shaking hands to steady so tying the accessory around John’s eyes wouldn’t be sloppy. He leaned down until he was cheek to cheek with John.
“I’m going to make the next few hours worth every cent, my filthy little slut.” Oh, how Peter was glad John couldn’t see his face twist with self-degrading disgust. He sent out an apology to all the stars of his old favorite stag films for failing them. “Let me get the lube warmed up and the condom ready, then you can make me cum as many times as you can before I even let you.”
He swung his leg back over John, leaving the bastard shivering with glee as he backed away from the bed.
The timer was set.
Peter skipped over to the pants, crouching and digging out the wallet he felt in the back pocket. He pulled out the pink wads of kronor and shoved it in his pocket. He stared at the corners of the credit cards poking out of their sleeves, and looked towards the panting, writhing mess on the bed.
You can clear out my bank account.
But he shook his head clear of the temptation and stood up, returning to the bedside; might as well minimize the potential jail time as much as possible. With great care, Peter picked up the watch and ring and placed them in the pocket so they wouldn’t clink. He stared at his client, taking a deep, quiet breath.
And finally: insurance.
He hooked his fingers in John’s waistband, his face twisting up once more. Do it like a band-aid... like a band-aid... Pursing his lips against the rising bile, squeezing his eyes shut and turning his face away, Peter whipped the underwear down. He filled his lungs again, holding it in as he cracked an eyelid open and pulled his phone out.
It’s the same equipment that you have, Peter. The reminder did next to nothing to help quell the screech as his eyes met the swollen and stiff member, uncomfortably pink against the pallor of John’s legs, oozing precum.
“Holy fucking shit,” Peter cringed. He tapped on the camera, made sure that the shutter feature and the flash were both off, and aimed at the sad view that made his skin crawled. He bent down to plant a couple more kisses along John’s calf. It was an odd place to show affection to, but as long as John thought it was still leading to something, and Peter didn’t have to touch his genitals, it would do. He rose from the bed and swiped the leather jacket, draping it over his arm and picking up his own jacket and boots.
In the next breath, Peter was out the door, feeling the coldness within him snap and fall into pieces when it clicked closed behind him.
He did it.
He turned and walked off, leaving behind the muffled noise from John as it turned from confusion to protestation to outright fury, but growing ever softer as Peter legged it. His free hand patted the bulge in his dress pocket as he rounded the corner, and the shakes returned, making the air coming into his lungs shallow, making his skin prickle and his vision tunnel and sway.
When something pushed up his throat, Peter feared it was vomit, or a scream, or a cry. It definitely had to be a cry, as the sensation of John’s dick between his legs burned all over. But it was a laugh. He laughed. Because it shouldn’t have been that easy, but he did it! And --
He stumbled to the nearest trash can, knocking the top off and emptying his stomach in the refuse.
When it was over and Peter came up for air, he wiped his mouth and looked around, feeling so separated from this plane. This called for a celebration.
He rummaged through his jacket pocket, the cashmere one he came in, and pulled out the shades. Then he clipped on the watch and pulled out the wad of cash, setting the jackets and boots down on the floor next to his feet. Raising the phone up, he tilted his head and stuck his little tongue out.
#life thus far ( story )#droid noodles ( writing )#ain't safe for lookin'#er...#long post#vomit tw#ask me to tag because uuuh#sinday#alcoholism tw#e-boy
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the annotated Tome of the Wild
Part 6: Into the Wild!
- I have no regrets about torturing you all with that dream at the beginning. Not just because it was a bit cruel, but because it’s a nod to the series tradition of Link starting his adventure by oversleeping.
- Anjean is a character from Spirit Tracks. A game in which you use a train to explore New Hyrule. Which I put into the chapter that has a speeding train play a pivotal role in Link’s accidental fall into the river, without realizing it till after the chapter was up. THIS WAS HILARIOUS TO REALIZE.
- A pale yellow half-moon and a canopy of stars presided over it all THERE’S THAT MOON AGAIN
- Teba! I like that guy. In BOTW it’s established that he looks up to Revali a lot, and is trying to master his Gale; this is understandable, given that Revali was a legendary hero of the Rito, who fell tragically in battle a hundred years ago. But when he gets to meet him during AOC, he’s... less than impressed with Revali’s behavior towards Link. He still admires his skills, of course, but that hero worship has been tarnished a little by the actual personality of the Rito Champion. It’s like that old saying about how you shouldn’t meet your heroes. So for this, I wondered: what would he think of him if that “hero of legend” factor were removed and Revali was just an exceptional student who also happened to be a major jerk? And thus you get his veiled references to behavior he won’t tolerate regardless of a person’s skill level.
- Aryll put one hand on her hip and thrust her other arm into the air. “Experiment time! OH YEAH!” She giggled. “He says that every time we get to do science stuff.” Another reference to Robbie being Aryll’s teacher.
- And we have our first onscreen appearance of Riju and Medli! I’d mentioned them in passing in one of the letters in things I didn’t send, but now they’re here. I chose them to be Link and Mipha’s friends for a couple reasons. One is simply that I really like both of them; another is that they’re close in age to those two, so it was easy to make them all the same age without it being weird. Medli is one of my favorite characters in the series, and I really liked Riju a lot, especially after being able to fight as her in AOC, so I have a lot of fun bouncing them off Link and Mipha.
- “Yes, we do see.” Riju sounded like she could barely contain her glee. “Thank you, Aryll. You've just helped us solve a very irritating mystery.” And thus is Aryll inspired to play at being “Detective Aryll”, thanks to Riju’s thanking her for this. She and Medli have been just as confused as Mipha about Link’s disappearing act, and very angry, particularly on Mipha’s behalf, as they’ve seen firsthand just how hurt she is by his behavior. But now, seeing that he made a mixtape for her? That changes everything. As soon as they see it, they finally understand: he’s been acting this way not because he suddenly dislikes Mipha, but because he’s got romantic feelings for her and is unable to talk to her about them. And as I established in Mipha’s second letter in things i didn’t send, they’re also aware of her love for Link, and so they really want to get the two talking to each other so this can be sorted out at last.
- “Don't they have to be somewhere wet?” Link glanced back at where the school was getting smaller and smaller as they kept walking. “I know they need a lot of water.” Yeah, like the river you’re about to fall into very soon.
- “You're right! I almost forgot! It talked about that in a show Mom was watching last week about people who catch frogs for making medicine and stuff. Did you know some people actually like to eat them, and think they're a delicacy?” A reference to how you put them in elixirs in BOTW, as well as the Akkala Buns that Midna loves. Link’s disgust here is a callback both to that and to his refusal to eat a frog in that memory in BOTW with Zelda trying to get him to eat one for science.
- Could this night go any more downhill? It can, actually. Literally, in your case, Link. Another bit that was completely accidental and I found myself laughing about later when I realized during the editing process.
- Look. Riju and Medli absolutely want their friends to get together, and they’re more sympathetic to Link now that they know what’s behind his recent actions. But they haven’t completely forgiven him yet, and so they kinda got their revenge by fucking with him a bit when he came back for the tape. Which they did genuinely put in Mipha’s pocket as a way to try to help the two start talking to each other and confess their real feelings.
- “Just think of us as mail carriers!” Medli piped up. Also this is a reference to how the Rito delivered mail in Wind Waker.
- Link's heart skipped a beat as he saw who was standing next to it, her sweater stuffed into the elephant's head-shaped basket as she put her helmet on and climbed onto the seat. Mipha’s bike is Vah Ruta.
- Bazz and Gaddison are, of course, two Zora who were friends with Link in the Domain when he was a kid there, who along with Rivan all formed the Big Bad Bazz Brigade. So naturally, they’re his fencing team teammates.
- “Oh yeah, that fucking guy.” Gaddison rolled her eyes. “Mr. 'I'm the best at everything and don't you forget it, you chumps can't hope to keep up with me, wah wah how asinine'.” She flapped her hands in a mockery of wings, and Link had to struggle not to choke on his water. Two things here. First, I really enjoyed writing Gaddison mocking Revali and using his ‘asinine’ catchphrase. Second, Link seems to keep choking on water, doesn’t he? First when Midna reveals her favorite meal, and now again. Hmmm...
- She laughed too, but something about it sounded strangely off. There was a long pause, as if she was weighing what to say next, and then she took a deep breath. As I established in the final letter in things i didn’t send, Mipha is well aware that Link was at her practice, and is trying to find some way of asking him about it, figuring that the walk to the graveyard will be a good opportunity. She’s also been trying to hide how hurt she’s been at Link’s behavior, so that’s why her laugh sounds off: she’s startled by him acting like himself for that brief moment, but doesn’t want to let it show, so Link is unaware for now of just how deep her pain goes. He’ll find out soon enough, though. And of course, Mipha is also unaware of the tape that’s so, so close, something she later feels a lot of horror and pain over.
- “... Oh. I see.” He looked up in time to see Mipha turn her head away, an unreadable expression on her face. “I understand, of course...” This is the moment when she all but gives up on him, which shatters her heart. It’s perhaps the most agonizing missed opportunity in the whole chapter, as the tape is right there and she doesn’t know, and Link fucks up by pulling away again. He does reach for her, which might have changed things if Revali hadn’t picked that exact moment to walk in and interrupt. If not for that, Link would’ve touched her arm and started a conversation that would’ve led to a breakthrough that didn’t require a near-death experience. All these points of divergence are going to haunt them both later.
- Mipha tries to be outwardly polite, but she can’t stand Revali because of how he treats Link and never would’ve dated him. She goes to the graveyard because she wanted to try and get a reaction out of Link, even if she can’t bear to look at him for fear of what she’ll see on his face, something she feels ashamed of later, but that attempt at politeness just feeds into Link’s insecurities, unfortunately. “The love is requited, they’re just idiots”, indeed.
- To fill out the graveyard group, I chose Yunobo and Komali. As a descendant of Daruk, it stands to reason that he’d still be related to him here, and attending school with Link and the others. Plus his anxious personality makes for a perfect fit for such a scene. And Komali is another Rito from Wind Waker, who is friends with Medli, so that was another no-brainer.
- Mipha's expression was closed off and neutral as she stared down at her own hands in her lap She is trying her hardest to conceal how heartbroken and miserable she is, the poor girl.
- “Give it a rest, Revali!” Riju, sounding remarkably like her mother. I went ahead and made Urbosa Riju’s actual mom in this AU, and this is my little hint as to that.
- “Hey, what's all this ruckus, then?” bellowed a loud, croaky voice. “Buncha Poes sneaking into my graveyard? I'll show you what for!” Another reference to Poes, and though I don’t mention his name, the gravedigger is of course Dampe from OOT, MM, ALBW, and the LA remake.
- “Link, look!” She held it out as he walked over to join her. “I got a frog!” Which means you’re close to water! ... oh shit.
- Which brings us to the cliffhanger, with the reveal that Link and Aryll are drowning while the events in the Wild are happening. I was so excited for this, it’s what so much foreshadowing has been leading up to. I even stuck it in the first letter of Link’s in things i didn’t send, when he compares the effect Mipha has on him to drowning. Which is easy to mistake for yet another use of water imagery in connection with our lovely Zora princess, a recurring element in my work, but becomes more sinister when you know what befalls him here.
and that covers part six!
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