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yourlittledecoyxox · 1 year

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The past few days, I’ve been working on a lil story idea. I’ve written out a first piece. I wanna add a lot more detail and spacing between the two but I’ve written what came to me as it came to me.

I’d really appreciate some feedback or if I should even continue. I haven’t written in years so I’m a bit rusty. If you read it, please let me know what you think!

Don’t ask me how I ended up in Castle Rock, of all places. I couldn’t tell you. It wasn’t part of the plan. The plan was Chamberlain. But that quickly changed. God knows why, he doesn’t tell me shit. That’s the problem with your brother being your boss. He says jump, you start stretching.

My older brother Mikey, whilst not the nicest guy in the world, was all I had left. And it was because of that, that I did as he asked. He told me we were gonna go to Chamberlain, be there a few months until the cops caught wind then move on again. That had been the routine for the past 2 years but I hadn’t minded much. We got to see the country and not be tied down. But I could sense Mikey was getting frustrated with the drifter lifestyle. He wanted his patch, his kingdom. And I just followed.

Upon first impressions of Castle Rock, it wasn’t much to look at. It was your stereotypical suburban town. It didn’t have much going for it in my opinion but Mikey seemed to like it. Or there was something here he wanted. Either way, he wouldn’t tell me.

He sorted us a small, 2 bed house with boarded up windows and peeling paint. The inside was even worse, I’d never seen so much dust in my life. Not to mention I almost lost my foot going through the rotten floorboards in one of the bedrooms. I had asked why we were living in such a shithole when we had money from the last job, Mikey had said ‘we don’t wanna draw much attention to ourselves just yet. Better for people to think we are just down and outs.’ It had taken a few weeks to get the place to a livable state but I didn’t bother to decorate much. Wouldn’t be long before we left. Putting down roots, even if it was just a few picture frames, made it harder to leave.

On my first exploration of Castle Rock, I had cursed my brother for bringing us to such a dead-end town. I was used to the city life. Seeing the same 5 faces everyday didn’t appeal to me. Mikey had been there to help fix up the house then he left. Told me to ‘stay put’ until he called.

So that’s what I did. For a few days at least.

I needed food so I went to the supermarket. Well, supermarket would be an overstatement. It was more of a convenience store. I picked out my food for the week and paid.

“You new ‘round here?” The balding cashier asked, an eyebrow raised.

I hated when people asked questions they already knew the answer to.

“Sure.” I said shortly before picking up my change.

I stopped by the Diner on the way home. It was rather quaint with shiny tables and burgers bigger than my head. I eyed the ‘Help Wanted’ sign before going over to the jukebox. As much as I wanted to eat half my body weight in fries, pancakes and milkshakes, the money Mikey had left me with would have to tide me over for the foreseeable future, he could be gone anywhere from a few days to a month. So I had to be careful, at least until he called. I eyed the jukebox with interest before I started to flip through the songs. Surprisingly, there was a decent choice. As I fiddled with the machine and pretended to be enamoured with the song choice, I took note of the back door that led into a kitchen. Must have a back door through there. The register was close enough to the back door that you could get to it without being seen from the front windows. There appeared to be a standard alarm but that’s nothing that couldn’t be rewired. Interesting.

“I swear to god, if they so much as step a foot into this diner…”

I turned my head slightly towards one of the waitresses, a woman in her mid 40’s with blonde hair and crows feet. She had her arms crossed and was glaring at the door. A younger waitress stood next to her, biting her lip anxiously, eyes also locked on the door. I turned my head back to the jukebox, intent on finding at least one song that would entertain me for a few minutes before I was released back to the boredom this town consumed me with.

I scrolled for another few seconds before a shrill yell echoed throughout the diner. My head snapped up and I watched as the older waitress, who’s nametag read ‘Maureen’ headed towards the door.

“Abolutely not! You are not allowed back in here and you know it!” Her shouts were directed at a group of 4 men. They couldn’t have been much older than me, two brunettes and two blondes. The two at the front smirked at the woman whereas the other two held back, seemingly willing to let the others deal with the situation.

“Now Maureen, that’s not a very nice way to speak to paying customers.” The brunette drawled with sarcastic sadness. He was tall, rather good-looking with a scar below one of his eyes. The blonde that stood next to him was leaning against the door, he stood heads above Maureen and knew it. He looked down at her with a cocky disinterest, as if this whole thing was below him.

“Y’all ain’t customers because you’re banned now get out!” She was ballsy, I’d give her that. It was at that moment, I’d realised everyone else in the diner was watching this interaction with baited breath. Most of the patrons looked nervous, some looked delighted that this group of men were being denied entry.

The blonde one took a step closer to Maureen, a small smirk on his face as he spoke to her lowly. The poor woman was shaking with rage. I couldn’t hear what he said but she eventually moved to the side and let them through. If looks could kill, those men would’ve been dead a million times over. The brunette tipped his hat at her before they moved through the main walkway, towards a booth.

I was rather shocked she had lost that encounter, I was half expecting her to start beating them with her shoe.I took my cue to leave and began walking towards the door. Unfortunately, the group were sat at the booth near the door and as I walked past, a chair was pushed into my path.

Huh.

I stopped in my tracks and looked at the chair before raising my gaze to the men expectantly. I looked at the brunette first, the one who had clearly pushed the chair, before my gaze was drawn to the blonde. His eyes were locked onto mine as a small smirk played on his lips.

“Fancy joining us, gorgeous?” The brunette asked, a grin on his face.

Oh Jesus, did that really just happen? I internally gagged as I maintained eye contact with his blonde friend.

I pushed the chair out of the way before walking out the door, not dismissive to the sound of the other two men making fun of the brunette. As I walked past the window, I noticed the blonde was still watching me, his smirk a little bigger.

This time, I did roll my eyes as I got into my car and drove home.

—---------

The next week was rather uneventful. I did as I was told and kept a low profile. I hadn’t heard from Mikey, not a thing. So I spent my time fixing up my car. It was a ‘52 Buick and she was my everything. It was a gift from our Dad and my Brother had done it up for me for my birthday. I spent most of my mornings that week fixing the engine, adding a spoiler and cleaning the inside. Then in the evenings, I went to a bar called Irby’s. It appeared to be the only place to drink around here and seemed the owner didn’t care much about ID’s when money could be made. I’d somehow made a friend in one of the locals, Bonnie. She was in her mid 20’s, curly, black hair and a killer smile. She had grown up in Castle Rock but often went into Chamberlain. We had instantly hit it off, with her pulling me to her table and chatting the whole night. Since then, I had gone to Irby’s every night. Albeit it had only been 3 nights but it gave me something to do.

This night was no different. I sat down next to her and noticed she had already bought me my favourite, a Whiskey and Coke. I was trying to force myself to like the taste of straight Whiskey but I couldn’t do it. To be honest, I liked a Mai-Tai or a Pina Colada but I doubted Irby’s would know what they were so I went for the safe option.

“This place is Antsville tonight!” Bonnie commented, flicking the head of her lighter and lighting her cigarette. I hummed in agreement, taking a sip of my drink. Irby’s was small so it didn’t take a lot for it to be packed but as it was a Friday night, it was at maximum capacity.

“So how are you finding Castle Rock? Have you spoken to anyone bar me since last night?” She teased.

I shot her a deadpan look before responding “I’ve been working on my car all day so no.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, “Castle Rock doesn’t have much to offer so I don’t blame you but you need to get out more and meet people!”

“Jesus, you sound like my Mother!” I laughed before downing my drink. “You want another?” I asked as I stood.

She shook her head, taking another drag of her cigarette, eyes scanning the crowd.

I began making my way through the plethora of bodies, I got a fair few elbows into the stomach and head but eventually I arrived at the bar. The lights were obnoxiously yellow and the bartop was covered in spilled beer. The owner was mid argument with a patron who had clearly had too much and appeared to have spilt his drink all over himself. As he slurred his way through reasons he should be allowed to stay, I noticed something in the back. On the left of the bar, up a few steps was a couple of pool tables. But it wasn’t the pool tables that caught my attention. It was the group playing. It was the group from the diner the other day. The blonde, the brunette and about 4 others. The brunette and another guy were playing pool whilst the blonde sat in a booth with a cigarette in his mouth, watching his surroundings. Before I could look away, we locked eyes. His face changed from watchful to smug and he sent me a wink before taking a swig of beer. I raised an eyebrow at him before turning back to the bar, the owner now dealt with his sticky patron.

I ordered another round before leaning against the bar. My back was beginning to hurt after being hunched over the engine all morning. Fuck, I should’ve taken some aspirin before coming out. I grabbed our drinks and went back to our table, putting the drinks down.

“I thought I said I didn’t want another one?”

“Yeah, well, I don’t like being in debt to people.” I said, raising my glass to cheers her.

As we began chatting about what little Castle Rock had to offer, the front door opened and a man walked in. I didn’t pay much attention at first, until I noticed Bonnie couldn’t take her eyes off him.

“Friend of yours?”

She grinned before putting her finger to her lips. We watched as the man walked through to the back of the bar and surprise surprise, joined the men I saw at the diner.

“Who are those guys?” I asked, watching as the group of men greeted the man, passing him a beer before one of them got him in a playful headlock.

“They…” She pointed, her barely lit cigarette still between her fingers, “are the Cobra’s.”

I burst out laughing, ‘The Cobra’s? What, was the Rattlesnakes taken?”

She gave me a deadpan look before continuing, “The blonde in the black shirt,” The one who had winked at me earlier, “is Ace Merrill, their leader.” For some reason, his name seemed familiar but I couldn’t place where from. Probably one of the waitresses said something about him earlier.

I had spent many of my formative years in Detroit, a place where gangs run rampant and you didn’t mess with them. Somehow, I found it difficult to take these ‘Cobras’ seriously. I had seen scary men in my time, my own Father being one of them, and hell, my Brother could count as one aswell. Scary men don’t need to try and prove how scary they are. Unlike greased back hair and leather jackets over there.

I took a moment to examine this ‘Ace,’ what kinda name is that? He looked to be in his late teens, early twenties at most. He had slicked back blonde hair, tanned skin and eyes that seemed to hold you where you were. He had left his place in the booth and was now playing pool with the brunette from earlier.

“The guy with him is Eyeball Chambers.” Bonnie continued, motioning to the brunette.

“What kind of fucking names are these?!” I’d really have to hate my kid to call them ‘Eyeball’ or ‘Ace.’

Bonnie slapped my arm lightly, “Let me finish! He’s called Eyeball because apparently,” She took a deep breath as if she was tired of telling this story, ‘his Dad put out a cigarette on his eye when he was a kid.”

Fucking hell.

“Then there’s Billy, Charlie, Vince and Fuzzy.” She pointed out each of the other guys in turn. “I’m not gonna tell you what to do but I’d stay away from them if I were you.”

“Why’s that? They like to give people wedgies?” I drawled sarcastically.

Bonnie burst out laughing, some of her drink coming out of her nose. Damn, she must be drunk because I am not that funny.

“You are too much for me, Sugar!” She giggled, catching her breath. “But no, they’re messed up in some shit. It’s mainly Ace and Eyeball you gotta watch out for. The rest are fairly harmless, just like to pretend they’re tough. Nah, that Merill…” She lit another cigarette, “almost killed a kid last summer. Damn near slit his throat.”

“Fuck, why? What happened?”

She shrugged, coughing a little on her cigarette and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, smudging her red lipstick. “It’s just a rumour but I believe it.”

God damn, maybe I was wrong about this guy. Maybe he is more fucked than I thought. Who the fuck tries to kill a kid? Although, I was a little dubious. God knows how many rumours were spread about me when all the shit went down two years ago.

“But get this…” She starts up again, both of us looking over at the group, “The kid Ace almost got is Eyeball’s brother.”

“There ain’t no fucking way…” I trailed off in shock, “And he did nothing to stop him?”

Bonnie shrugged, leaning back in her seat. “I don’t know the details. Like I said, it’s just a rumour but I’d put money on it.”

Damn, what kind of town was this?! This guy clearly had a reputation, evident from the antics at the diner and now this. I couldn’t tell if he was a ‘tough guy’ or just a plain psychopath. Either way, I intended to keep my distance. I was here for a reason. Granted, I didn’t know that reason just yet but I was not gonna get caught up in some violent prick’s bullshit. I needed to speak to Mikey.

I had been so caught up in my thoughts, I hadn’t realised I was still staring at the group and it wasn’t until Bonnie grabbed my arm did I realise they had caught on. ‘Ace’ or whatever his fucking name was was looking straight at me, an eyebrow raised and a small smirk on his lips. ‘Eyeball’ was murmuring in his ear next to him before looking over at me and grinning smugly.

Awesome. Just what I needed.

I turned back to Bonnie, purposely facing my body away from our spectators.

“You’ve been in Castle Rock all of five minutes, sugar, and you’re already on their radar.”

“Just my fuckin’ luck.” I muttered, taking a sip of my drink.

—------

“Ow!”

Shit, since when was the sofa there?

I clumsily made my way through the house, hitting myself apparently on every piece of goddamn furniture in this place. I had turned on one of the lamps but it didn’t seem to help much. The problem was I had drunk a bit too much. I staggered through to my room and collapsed on the bed. I should make it easy on myself in the morning and get water now but damn, I’m so comfy.

I don’t fall asleep fully clothed with makeup and shoes still on as often as I used to but every now and then, I would. I was so bored. I had nothing to do in this god forsaken town. If drinking didn’t fill the void, what would?

Fuck, I forgot to turn off the lamp in the living room.

I considered just leaving it until the morning but if I got up to turn it off, I could also get some water for my future self.

With a groan, I stood up and wobbled into the living room. I was about to turn off the lamp when I noticed something on the front door mat. I most definitely had beer goggles on, everything was wavy so it took me longer than it should’ve to see that it was a letter.

In hindsight, I should’ve been concerned as no one except Mikey and Bonnie knew where I lived. At the time, I didn’t fully process how weird it was.

I bent down to pick up the letter and tried to look at it more closely. Can I sober up for like 30 seconds please?

There was no address on it, just my name. Well, my old name. The one I was born with. I recognised the handwriting almost instantly.

My brother had a flair for the dramatic, you could say. He always had. He also liked to feel like he was in control. The two were a deadly combination.

It was this flair for the dramatic that made me roll my eyes when I read the note.

Annabelle,

Things are starting. I’ll call tomorrow. Get ready.

See what I mean about dramatic? Why not just call me tomorrow anyway? He must’ve been in town to deliver this so why not talk to me? You know, like human beings do? I crumpled up the paper and threw it in the trash before grabbing my water and heading to bed.

—---

The next day went as expected. I woke up with a hangover and didn’t leave my bed until lunchtime. When I finally felt like I could rejoin the land of the living, I showered and made some pancakes. The rest of the day was spent watching TV and waiting for Mikey to call.

It wasn’t until the evening did the phone ring.

“Michael?”

“I take it you got my note?”

Obviously, otherwise I wouldn’t have answered the phone by saying your name. “Yeah. What’s happening?”

“I got a job for you.”

“Go ahead.” I was no stranger to Mikey’s little ‘jobs.’ It could be anything from gathering intel for a robbery to befriending a rival. I was still waiting on the day a job for me was to see how much beer I could drink before passing out.

He sighed in irritation, I could see him running his tongue over his teeth, a tell he was pissed. “Chamberlain’s a maybe. Could get some business there. But you don’t shit where you sleep. Castle Rock seems like it’ll be just far enough that they won’t suspect shit. But I hear Castle Rock has its’ own shit.”

I held back a laugh, “They have a gang if that’s what you mean. Or if you could even call it that. ‘The Cobra’s.’ Bunch of idiots with anger issues, tryna prove to themselves that they’re tough. Laughable, not really a threat.”

I heard silence which meant Mikey was probably deep in thought. “I’ve heard similar. It’s not them I think could cause problems. It’s their leader. Goes by the name Ace Merill.”

Fucking ace. Literally, fucking Ace. “I’ve heard of him, seen him around a few times. From what I heard, he almost killed some kid last year so maybe you’re right. The gang don’t seem like a threat but he’s something else.”

“On the money, kid. Kids tryna play in the big leagues ain’t a problem. Merrill seems like he may be a player in the big leagues. I need info.”

I groaned, “Fuck. What do you need?”

“Anything and everything you can get on him. If you can find out what he’s mixed up in, even better.”

“How the hell am I supposed to find out about that?!”

Mikey sighed as if I was the dumbest person in the world, which I’m sure he thought I was sometimes. “Talk to him, be his friend. Make him trust you.”

“I don’t know if you can be friends with a guy like this.” I mumbled.

“Then do whatever you gotta do, okay?! Just find out what he knows.” With that, he hung up.

I was well and truly fucked.

#Stand By Me #ace merrill

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wheresmypenn · 2 years

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Fight or Flight

Words: 2500

Warning: Swearing, mentions of suicide (NO SPOILERS I HAVEN’T EVEN SEEN THE EPISODE) And this is my first one-shot/request

Description: Loosely based on event that happened in the new episode. Teenage girl OC gets stuck in trailer with Negan. Forcing them to meet and talk. And possibly form an escape plan? the OC is based on my character in my Fanfiction Just Gone, though she is a little older in this. For those who don’t read my fanfiction, it’s not needed, this was random and she wasn’t called by any name.

After slamming the door behind him, Negan was surprised to see an undead face. The girl was definitely surprised to see him. The girl was wearing khaki coloured sweatpants and sweatshirt with A painted on her front, and her feet were bare. She was young, he guessed no older than seventeen

“Found a place to hideout, huh?”

She only stared.

“Relax I ain’t gonna give you shit for hiding out from this mess. I don’t remember seeing you around.”

“I’m on the fence.”

“Well I guessed that, still don’t remember you.”

“How often do you look at us on the fence?”

“True enough, you got me there. But I don’t remember you at Alexandria.”

“Probably because I was here.”

She looked up at the skylight, than over to the window.

He chuckled slightly, noticing where he eyes were going, “no point in climbing up there. We’d still be surrounded. Better to wait it out.”

She shook her head, staring out the window. “I’m not waiting anything out. Some were already around after I came in, more followed after you came in. And the more Walkers that come by join their friends. Waiting for them to give up would take too long, they’ll break the door or windows before they’d give up.”

“Please, they’re not that smart.”

She turned her head and narrowed her eyes at him, “I never said they were smart. Enough of their banging and pushing, bound to break down something. I’ve seen enough to know a horde of them can take down whatever.”

Negan’s 1eyebrows raised slightly as he seemed to ponder her words. Then he ran a hand over his stubble, nodding slightly. She took a few steps away and ran her hand over the wood paneled wall.

“Well, you got a plan, sweetheart? Ain’t much we can do in here.”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she thought it over staring at the wall.

“Well, lay it on me, get us the fuck outta here.”

She turned to him suddenly, snapped out of her trance. She shook her head.

“No? You got a plan or not?”

“Then we’d both get out,” she shook her head again.

“That’s the point.”

“No. Both of us would get out. Maybe make it alive.”

“The hell am I missing here?”

Her eyes met his fully. Something in her expression turned dark and angry, “you’d get out.”

He narrowed his eyes at her and tilted his head, “what, you gonna kill me?”

“I can make a bunch of noise, agitate them more. Then they’ll get in and rip you apart.”

“Newsflash, they’d rip you to shreds too. You want to die?”

She shrugged, turning back to the window.

He smirked and let out a scoff, “well, holy fucking shit. You do. Perfect, I get stuck in here with a suicidal, emo teenager. What the hell, a second ago you were hatching a fucking escape plan, now you’d rather die.”

“I didn’t say I wanted to die. I just don’t really care.”

“C’mon, kid. Can’t end your story just yet, not when it’s getting so fucking interesting.”

“Actually I think you dying would be the most impactful event of the story.”

“You’d really kill yourself to kill me? Isn’t that a bit counterproductive?”

She shook her head, “don’t see how it would be. A lot of people are trying to do it. I’d be doing them a favor. Maybe they’ll make me a statue.”

He glared at her as a silence washed over them. After a few moments his voice contorted in anger and he took a menacing step toward her. With his presence drawing closer she looked at him once again, her body tensed as it propelled itself into fight or flight mode.

“You know what will happen when you die? Wanna know the sad, sick reality? You won’t get a statue, you won’t even get a fucking funeral. You’ll just be a name on a long list of dead people, a name that’ll probably be forgotten pretty fucking quick. No one will care what you did or why you did it.”

She shrugged, “I know how the world works. I know a lot of people on that list. And yeah, maybe I’ve forgotten the names of some. But there is a few that will never leave my head. And maybe, if I’m lucky, I’ll be one of those names in someone else’s head. Or I’m not, tough shit. I’ll be too busy being dead to care.”

“You fucking suicidal?”

“I don’t know, maybe. I’d rather not die, but I don’t care much if I do. I don’t really have a choice in the matter anyway, might as well accept it.”

“But you can choose this time.”

“No. Even if I get us out of here, you’ll probably kill me, and even if they don’t tear that door down and we’re stuck in here, you’ll probably still kill me.”

“And why do you say that?”

“Probably because I’m being disrespectful and I called you an asshole.”

“You didn’t call me an asshole.”

“Kinda just did, or implied I did. Or I would, I dunno. I’m getting lost now. Haven’t talked this much in a while.”

“And why’s that?”

“I work on the fence and I have a cell. You think anyone wants me talking?”

“Point taken,” he said as his expression went neutral, “How about this, you get us out of this damn trailer and I’ll find a way to get you off the fucking fences. Sound good?”

“And keep me in the cell instead? No thanks. Fence isn’t too bad, compared to what you did to other people. What you did to Daryl. Least I know how to handle Walkers.”

“What do you know about what I did to Daryl?”

“People talk, I saw him around. I know him, and he looks like shit.” She paused, “well looked like shit. Not sure how he looks now, probably a lot better.”

Negan was beginning to feel agitated. He clenched his teeth, “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll have him back and you can see exactly how he’s doing.”

Her lip turned upward into a snarl as she glared daggers at the older man. What he said had clearly snapped something inside her. He almost smiled, liking that he’d gotten to her so easily.

She raised both her fist and started pounding on the wall. His jaw dropped and his eyes widened, he was about to step forward and grab her. She smacked the window with her elbow as Negan dropped Lucille and grabbed the girl by the arms. What he did allowed her to take advantage and give herself momentum to bring her bare foot up and drive it into the window, shattering it.

Negan felt himself falling back and dropping her in shock.

“What the fuck! You’re going to get us killed!”

“And I hope it fucking hurts,” she practically growled at him, lying on the floor.

“Jesus, you’re fucking dark.”

“Might have something to do with you bashing Glenn’s head in.”

He grabbed Lucille turned to her about to start screaming at her, he even raised Lucille wanting to scare her. But he froze when he saw tears falling from her eyes. She sat herself up and wiped them away. He lowered Lucille and sighed. Negan turned to the broken window, the Walkers were definitely more riled up after that. One had almost both its arms in, trying its best to crawl in. He used Lucille and wacked the Walker so it fell. He knew the pressure from the rest of them would break the remainder of the window soon.

He turned back to the girl who was sitting on the floor, he saw that the foot she used to kick the window was bleeding in a few different places.

“Listen, I know you don’t want to fucking die. You wouldn’t still be alive if you did. What you just did doesn’t leave us any time, we have to get the fuck out of here. You got a fucking plan, say it now.”

She lifted her her head, her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were wet. “Fuck you.”

“I’ll leave Daryl the fuck alone, that what you want? No matter what happens with Rick the Prick nothing will touch your precious fucking Daryl.”

She didn’t respond.

“And I’ll get you off the fence and out of the cell. I’ll have your foot get looked at no points or shit needed.”

Her expression softened, she was considering like he knew she would. He was sure the girl didn’t want to get herself killed for him. But she didn’t agree yet.

“You realise with the shit Rick is pulling I can’t just fucking let you go.”

She gave a little nod before standing up, holding her hand out to him, “I need your knife.”

He scoffed, “so you can stab me or yourself?”

“I don’t need the knife to do either of that. There’s glass from the window and the walkers can do just fine.”

“Once again, point taken,” Negan gave her his knife from his belt.

She took it from him and before anything else could be said, she began stabbing the wood paneled wall.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Negan exclaimed.

She didn’t answer, only continued for another minute or two. Every so often Negan had to knock a Walker from the window. She stopped and put the knife on the floor, “I need the bat.”

“Excuse me?”

“I need the bat.”

“You wanna tell me what the fuck the plan is?”

She sighed and reached for Lucille herself, he didn’t stop her, he let her take Lucille. He watched her with curiosity as she raised the end of Lucille’s handle and pushed it into the several holes in the wall. He could hear the wood breaking away as the girl dug the handle into the wall.

“You going to answer me?”

She handed Lucille back to him and began to use her hands to rip away the wood, then she used her hand and pulled a pink fluffy substance from the wall.

“These things have insulation,” she showing him and he took the piece from her. “It’s flammable.”

“You’re going to burn us the fuck down.”

She shook her head, “I’m going to burn them down, and maybe the porch.”

Negan took a moment before he started to understand the plan. She began pulling as much of the pink insulation from the wall and tossing it out the window, maneuvering her hand away from the closest Walker. Most of the pieces she threw ended up on the porch. She continued until there were many pieces close together, even throwing a few pieces of the wood panel out.

“Okay, so how do we start the fucking fire?”

She looked at him and he saw concern wash over her face.

“Promise I won’t be in trouble.”

He rolled his eyes, “honey, you get us the fuck out of here no repercussions whats so ever. Fuck, even with whatever the hell they brought you here for.”

She nodded before reaching into the pocket of her sweat pants and pulling out several matches.

“Where the fuck did you get those?”

“One of your guys dropped a bunch and missed a few,” she claimed, not meeting his eyes. “Thought they’d be useful at some point.”

“Smart thinking,” he said before walked a few more walkers away from the window.

“I uh, I need your shirt.”

“My shirt?”

“I need something that’ll catch fire fast and I can throw, if I use insulation the fire would go out before hitting the ground, I need something bigger.”

“Use your shirt.”

“Your assholes took all of my clothes. And by all I mean everything.”

“You mean there’s nothing …” he trailed off looking her up and down. He cleared his throat and took his jacket off, then took his white shirt off and put his jacket back on.

She nodded in thanks, “now break or open the skylight. The fires gonna be near the door its our only way out.”

He went and stood on the tablet,using Lucille to break open the light.

“Wait,” he stopped himself. “How’re you lighting the match?”

“With the other matches,” she answered before throwing his shirt on her shoulder. He squinted his eyes to watch as she held a few matches in one hand gathered together, red tips touching. She held one match in the other hand and twisted it fast against the other matches, it took a few tries but soon the match ignited. She quickly grabbed his shirt, holding it in front of her and lighting it aflame. She placed her hand on the forehead of the Walker trying to get in and pushed it away with all her might. The she threw the shirt out the window, aiming it at the insulation on the porch. It landed where she needed it to and the rest caught fire.

Negan hand broken the skylight and was kneeling on the table, holding both hands in front of him, his fingers laced together.

“Hop up, giving you a boost,” he said when he noticed her skeptical gaze. She hesitated for a moment.

“Want me to leave you here?”

She shook her head and climbed on the table, allowing him the boost her up the the ceiling. She climbed, through the skylight and onto the roof. When she was up she reached down and attempted to help him up as much as possible.

“Want me to live now?”

“You’re gonna get out without me, might as well get on your good side.”

He laughed and climbed up. Together they looked over to see the fire had spread onto some of the Walkers clothing attracting more of them in that direction. Looking on the opposite side of the trailer, it was much more clear.

“We can make it through that,” he said and began to climb down off the trailer, taking Lucille with him. He had to make a good jump, hurting his ankles slightly. He reached up for the smaller girl, “your turn.”

She didn’t want to jump into the man’s arms, but she had no time to waste. He helped her down, she was surprised he did. Together they ran and he led her to a locked door. So he began banging on it.

“There’s supposed to be someone at every fucking door in a crisis.”

A second later the door swung open.

“Negan!” The young man exclaimed, letting both of them in.

“Sir, everyone’s looking-”

“-shut the fuck up!” Negan leaned against the wall, panting. “That trick with the matches, where’d you learn that?”

“From one of the names I’ll never get out of my head.”

“Sir, do you need me to take the prisoner back to the cells?” The other man asked.

Negan shook his head, “Fuck no. She stays with me. I think I might have some use for her.”

She found herself wondering if she did the right thing by saving both their lives.

Links

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Fanfiction.net

Wattpad

Patreon

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moon-ursidae · 1 year

Text

SESSION #9!

as always: THERE WILL BE SPOILERS FOR BOTH GAMES AND THE HBO SERIES BELOW THE CUT!!!

ngl i’m not really feeling this rn so i might not play for very long. and these posts are kinda getting to be a chore and i want them to be fun haha. so idk if i’m gonna keep doing these. i started them so that i could remember my thoughts and stuff when i play. 🤷🏻‍♀️ ANYWAY

total play time: about 3 hours!

hostile territory?? oh geez

i just started the section where abby and manny go to find owen

i’m scared

i’m also fucking horrified for when i get to the ellie fight bc i’ve seen a lot of people say that ellie fights the way that you’ve been playing her??

so she’s gonna be placing hella bombs and is gonna be stealthy as hell and i’m SCARED

god this game is fucking gorgeous

“fuck danny. i’m jealous owen got to shoot him before i did.” hmmmmm. HMMMMMM.

the more i learn about abby the more that i REALLY understand how revenge gets the best of her as well.

abby thanking manny for a bunch of stuff? hmmmm that definitely isn’t a sign of anything

WAIT I’M ON MY OWN AGAIN?? NOOO

i hate being on my own so fucking much

close quarters branch??? hmmm

i like the difference between ellie and abby’s branches

shows a lot about their fighting styles

i hate this long hallway i have to shimmy through

i’m gonna get jumpscared

GODDAMNIT I FUCKING KNEW IT

FUCKING CLICKER JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

damn abby REALLY doesn’t like the seraphites

goddamn

“yea may she guide you right off a cliff” like holy shit bro

“these freaks are in our backyard.” i love how they’re setting it up though. she clearly doesn’t like the seraphites AT ALL. so how she forms her relationships w lev and yara later are really important

i miss seeing what ellie would draw and write in her journal :(

i hear footsteps…

big ones…

am i about to get my shit rocked when i shimmy through this doorway

i was wondering when i’d see infected

i love how you don’t need the code for the safes anymore

i just go through and listen for the different clicking sounds it’s so fun

wait is this egg a goddamn jak and daxter easter egg

fuck yea ‘relic of the sages’

is there an uncharted ring somewhere?

i hope so

SHOTGUN ACQUIRED BABY LET’S GOOOOOO

WHY ARE THERE MORE INFECTED GODDAMN THEY KEEP COMING FROM FUCKIN NOWHERE

woooaahhhhhhh this seraphite truck is cool

“you want peace? stay on your island.” she REALLY doesn’t like them jesus we get it abby

NEW HOLSTER LET’S GOOOO

seraphites!

i’d rather fight people over infected any day of the goddamn week

NO I DON’T WANT TO GO THROUGH THIS CRAWL SPACE

NOPE. I DON’T WANNA

OH MY GOD THIS IS THE ROOM WITH THE FERRIS WHEEL IN THE DISTANCE THAT I SEE ALL THE TIME

i’m about to go crazy in photo mode >:)

WORKBENCH FINALLY

THIS SHIT IS SO EXPENSIVVEEE

there are so many fucking seraphites in here oh my god

god that took so long to stealth bc it was so many different levels oh my god

WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT IS THE FIGHT SCENE WHERE THEY TRY TO HANG HER HAPPENING RIGHT NOW??????

I’M SCARED

flashback first!

the lights are so pretty in here 🥺

DOG???

DOG WHEN?

is he trying to make moonshine??

LMAO the way he went “abigail.” when she shook the jar

OH I’M ABOUT TO FUCK THIS SCOREBOARD W THIS BOW

YEAAAAA I GOT EM ALL

FUCK ALL YA’LL

13 BITCH LET’S GOOOOOOO

oh my god this is a mural of fucking salt lake city isn’t it?

YUP.

YUP. almost exactly from the pov where joel and ellie were standing

that’s crazy how that’s painted from memory

goddamn

aw the xmas decorations 🥺

THE MUSIC IS SO GOOD

wait is she about to ask him to go to jackson or is this after??

good mood because she found TOMMY.

SO THIS IS BEFORE JACKSON.

I HATE IT HERE.

“who’s more about justice than isaac?” you mean revenge?

everytime i start to like her more they remind me of the crime she committed that was killing joel miller.

but i also see how they keep pushing revenge on both ellie and abby’s side. joel took out the whole hospital to get ellie. to get revenge for taking her from him. for not giving her a choice. then abby wanted revenge for her dad. then ellie wanted revenge for her dad. it all goes in a never ending loop.

if ellie killed abby, lev would want revenge. then someone would want revenge for ellie, and so on and so forth. it would never end. so ellie had to break that cycle.

this is just so crazy bro

ugh okay now that i got that out

please don’t tell me it’s where they’re trying to hang abby

GODDAMNIT I SAW THE RAIN LIGHTING AND TREES AND THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT THE FUCK IS ABOUT TO GO DOWN

OH GOD

THE SOUND DESIGN????????? ARE YOU JOKING????????

SO GOOD.

this looks fucking amazing

if you told me this was shot live action i’d believe you

THIS IS INTENSE

OH MY GOD

IS THAT EMILY SWALLOW????????????

THE FUCKING ARMORER?????????

HELLO????????

WHEN WORLDS COLLIDE HAHAHAHA

HOLY FUCKIN SHIT

YARA!!!!!

CLIP HER WINGS????

ARE THEY GONNA BREAK HER ARMS??????

OH MY GOD PLEASE NO SHE’S JUST A KID

I CAN’T.

A HAMMER????? WITH A FUCKING HAMMER?????????????

I’M GONNA THROW UP

HOLY SHIT. THAT WAS ABSOLUTELY LEV.

YUUUUUP I SAW HIS BALD LIL HEAD

HOLY SHIT ABBY LET’S GOOO

IT BEGINS.

GIMME THAT HAMMER BITCH.

OH SHIT STALKERS??????

THIS IS FUCKING AWESOME. THE SINGLE TORCH THROUGH THE DARK ASS WOODS???

FUCKING AWESOME.

OH IT’S THAT ONE BITCH THAT AMBUSHED ME.

OH. MY. GOD.

THAT WAS BRUTAL.

SITTING HERE W MY JAW ON THE FLOOR.

GOD THIS EVEN STARTS OUT LIKE JOEL AND ELLIE.

ESCAPING THE QZ AND ESCAPING THE ISLAND

ABBY’S ATTITUDE “fine don’t tell me. i don’t really care.” LIKE JOEL WHEN HE WAS LIKE “i don’t care how you got infected.”

AHHHHHHHH NAUGHTY DOG I’M GONNA YELL

NEW MANUAL LET’S GO

INCENDIARY SHELLS??? AYO???

that’d be good as hell for rat king huh?

poor yara man :(

awe abby’s “stay behind me” she’ll deny she cares but you can tell that she does even just a little bit

more infected!

OH SHIT

SHALMBLER I AM BOOKING IT GOODBYE I AM HORRIFIED

I’M OUT

WAIT.

IS THIS A FUCKING AMBULANCE?????

WAIT IS RAT KING NOW????

I’M SCARED WAIT IT CAN’T BE

NO BC ABBY HAS A JACKET

IT’S DEFINITELY LATER

AND NOW CARRYING YARA AND RUNNING LIKE JOEL DID W ELLIE

WHAT THE FUCK

her hand is so red 🥺

oh my god her arm looks fucking awful :(

THE MUSIIICCCCCC

🎶on my own again🎶

wait. is the fucking boat scene coming up?

i’m scared. this building looks like bad news.

LONG GUN HOLSTER LET’S GOOOO

i was fully expecting to see seraphites out here not infected jfc

ALABAMA COIN

“should be a straight shot from here.” abby you forgot that this is a last of us game

it’s not gonna be that easy

WHAT THE FUCK DID I SAY ABBY

i cannot express how much i DON’T want to go into this building

i’m almost at 30 hours 😳

i think i’m gonna end here actually bc it’s almost 6 am haha

super intense this time!

in only a few hours of playing!

#the last of us #the last of us part ii #the last of us part two #the last of us part 2 #tlou #tlou part ii #tlou part two #tlou part 2 #the last of us spoilers #tlou spoilers #the last of us part 2 spoilers #the last of us part two spoilers #the last of us part ii spoilers #tlou part 2 spoilers #tlou part two spoilers #tlou part ii spoilers #mads plays the last of us!🌿#mads plays the last of us part ii!🍃

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bonetrousle · 2 years

Text

just rambling about drawing and it got a bit long lol

hm. i keep having revelations about things lately and the most recent one is that I decided to pick up my tablet and draw digitally for the first time since march (!) and after a bit of doodling i was just like. ahhh i missed this feeling it feels SO GOOD to make smooth lines and circles and whatnot. Then I was like huh. I think the reason I like to draw is not because I want to create something with meaning but because I simply like the feeling and sensation. I’m basically just idk stimming with it or something. Getting that proprioception in. And maybe that’s why I just like to draw the same thing over and over and I love to doodle and don’t really get in to completing works and I don’t think or plan 90% of the time. It’s purely a sensational experience. HUH.

And though I get frustrated and annoyed that I can’t draw certain things, the act of doodling and sketching is still a soothing thing. But I just like repeating the same actions over and over and that’s maybe why I struggle to learn new stuff like backgrounds or hands or whatever because I just like what I know which mostly involves circles and faces. like. ??????? It took me not really drawing for a whole year to realise that apparently but it makes a lot of sense as to why I draw when I don’t KNOW why I draw or what compels me, because I rarely feel the need to make something specific. It’s just an itch to scratch. Idk what to do with this information but it feels deeply helpful to be aware of it. lol. LOL???? It feels SO GOOD TO SKETCH AND DOODLE!!!!! Though it is also nice to try to paint and to experiment with colours and I do like trying to learn new things but I have very little patience for it and get easily frustrated. Anyway it’s nice to know what my purpose is in drawing because I’ve genuinely been baffled by why I continue to insist upon drawing when I suck at it so much and never know what I want to draw and I seem to like. refuse to let myself study or work slowly and intentionally when I just prefer to scrawl out one million shitty doodles without reference or thought. And also why I feel better after sitting for hours just doodling and sketching mindlessly. And since I have barely been doing that this year I’ve also felt pretty shit, and I noticed that when I have doodled furiously on my work breaks or whatever that I’ve felt better. Is this anything.

ALSO why I think I felt the need to stop drawing for a year was because I was losing what was enjoyable about it- ie I started selling my art and felt like I was just making stuff to sell rather than because I wanted to draw for fun. Anyway I’m sure I’m not the only one who likes to draw because it feels good to make marks but it’s not a feeling I hear articulated much. Or Ever. :? so I’d be curious to know what other people feel when they draw and stuff but idk how to look for that lsdajfk

0 notes

soreiya · 2 years

Note

Art ask game: 7, 13 and 17

Thanks so much for the ask. <3

7. Show us a WIP

Let’s go into a bit of backstory before I show the WiP. What most people don’t know is that I received a death threat from someone in the Vat7K fandom. It kind of opened my eyes a bit. After that point I started noticing all of the little things. Not just about the fandom, but the concept itself. There are plot holes and things that made no sense on further inspection. Though to get back on point, one of the main issues is actually fandom related. I've found that certain HC’s are frowned upon because they go against some of the big stereotypes that are heavily enforced by the fandom. I guess I became rather rebellious because of this and decided to draw a tall Varian for a DTiYS. I just got so tired of this weird oppression? Never seen such a thing in any other fandom. o__O; I don't even have anything against short Varian, but the more I get told that drawing him tall is somehow wrong, the more I have to do it. Because there is no canon for adult Varian and people need to calm their shit and stop telling others what they can and can not do. LMFAO There are a lot of errors to correct, but it's the only recent WiP that I have. ;__;

13. How long do you usually take on a piece?

Between a 1hr – 10+ years? LMFAO I’m just joking since I never finish anything.

Simpler stuff probably takes 1-3 hours.

More complex stuff I can’t really say for certain. Since I take breaks. Like there was one oekaki painting that I did back in 2005 that I worked on and off on for an entire week. Though I also spent a long time playing Sonic Adventure during the process. Hahahaha

Maybe once I have more confidence in my abilities I’ll use a timer app on the PC.

17. What do you love getting compliments about?

I actually feel awkward and undeserving of compliments. I’ve got a pretty low self image. I probably could use some advice on how to improve on this. x___X I remember recently @heatherthetiredwriter from the Of Rocks and Robots Discord server complimented my coloring on the AI comic and it made me cry. Though with group projects like that I’d rather not take the focus. Since a lot of work goes on throughout the process. Things wouldn’t come together as a whole if it was solely up to me. So I don't really know how to respond. It did feel nice though since that took such a long time to get done.

Hnn...

I’ve legit just sat here for a wile trying to really think about this question. I’ve come to the conclusion that my fave compliments come from when I’m doing something like practicing and I am genuinely struggling to learn? Like I’ll be expecting criticism on some anatomy and then someone will point out something that was done better than usual? It makes me feel like maybe I really can improve?

#ask #answer

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quindolyn · 3 years

Note

hi hi i have a req- remus and/or sirius where the reader has like bigger boobs w like stretch marks and stuff (bc theyre natural!!) and shes insecure ab them so the boy(s) make her feel better

Stripes || Wolfstar

A/N: I am not particularly fond of this piece all that much but it is what it is. I tried not to mention breast size too much because I know not everyone has big tits and I want as many people as possible to resonate with my work. Tits of all shapes and sizes can have stretch marks, they are completely natural and beautiful.

Warnings: smoking, it's not too too smutty I'd call it more fluffy smut, tit sucking, mentions of love bites, all acts are consensual and there is an established safe word

Word Count: 1,928

“We could go again,” Sirius offers as he lights his cigarette, leaning up against the headboard, guiding the fag to his lips he inhales deeply and you can’t help but be mesmerized as you watch his lips wrap around it.

Pink and soft, they're swollen from the night's previous activities, thinking about how they got that way sends a shiver down your spine, do yours look the same? Exhaling, you watch the smoke curl out his nose before dissipating into the air.

“Don’t know Pads, you think you could get it up again?” Remus stretches to reach his wand on the bedside table quickly and silently spelling you all clean.

Grey eyes flash with annoyance as he lifts the cigarette back up to his lips, though you must’ve watched him smoke hundreds of times you still can’t manage to tear your eyes away.

Maybe it's the way his fingers manipulate the small object as he plays with it absentmindedly that draws you in, the joints and muscles in his hand shifting under pale skin which looks almost as soft as it actually is.

Every now and again he’ll catch you staring at him, like now for example. His eyes flicker downwards finding your optics already fixed on him, “You want a hit Princess?” He raises his eyebrow, gesturing with the hand holding the smoke.

You nod your head, it’s not every day you’re included in their little smoke breaks post coitus, “Please.”

“Please,” Sirius mocks you as he leans down to hold the cigarette to your lips. You barely have the chance to taste the tobacco before it's being pulled away, this time to your right where Remus takes his time enjoying his smoke.

You can’t help but whine as it departs your lips and you’re met by the shit eating grin on Sirius’ face, clearly taking pleasure in teasing you so mercilessly.

“No whining Princess, smoking isn’t good for pretty girls is it?” Letting his hand cup the side of your face his thumb runs along the soft cushion of your bottom lip, applying just enough pressure to tease you.

In your peripheral vision you catch the cig being handed over your head, exchanging between the two boys as you nod your head once more.

“Good girl,” He coos, before taking another hit.

As the smoke leaves his nostrils he’s dipping down to find your lips. He tastes of smoke and something about it coming from his lips makes it all the more sweet, it’s probably better than the real thing.

It’s intensified as his tongue delves into your mouth, you can practically feel the smoke in your lungs, you’ve never been a match for him and simply let your tongue be manipulated by his before he pulls back, connecting the two of you with a strand of saliva that when it breaks falls onto the side of your face.

“Messy girl,” He murmurs, smug smirk on his lips, as he wipes away the mess, in reality his efforts only work to smear the spit on your cheek rather than clean it up.

“So what do you think baby?” Remus asks, sitting up and pulling you with him so you’re both upright, “You wanna try and go again?”

“I don’t know Rem, you think Siri can get it back up or is my wrist gonna cramp trying to get him hard?”

“You two are cruel,” No matter how hard he tries to hide it you can see the slight smile pulling upwards at his lips, “You’re even hiding your titties from me, mean.”

He gestures towards your chest, he’s right, you’d subconsciously clutched the sheet to your chest, crossing your arms to keep it in place and your breasts covered.

Heat rushes to your cheeks as the realization dawns upon you, it wasn’t that you were intentionally guarding them from either boy but you realize that that is how it looks.

“No it's not that Siri I just, I usually keep them covered. They’re… they’re… “ You stumble over your words, only increasing your embarrassment.

“They’re what puppy?” Remus asks, lightly brushing your hair behind your ear so that he has access to your temple, smearing his lips across the soft skin.

“I don’t know,” As you grow shy your voice drops to a mere mumble, “They’ve got all sorts of marks on them.”

This proves worrisome enough for Sirius to set down his fag, letting it sit in the ashtray on the nightstand.

“You mean stretch marks Princess?”

You try your best not to cringe at those words, stretch marks. It's not a dirty word, somewhere inside you, you know that but that has never stopped you from being insecure by them. Deliberately choosing tops that side the ones that sprout from the tops, near your under arm before traveling down the curvature of your tit. Making sure your lingerie always has some sort of extra covering where they’re most visible.

You feel Remus’ hold on you tighten from behind at your pained silence, it's telling enough.

“Just don’t like them.”

Your words have Sirius climbing closer to you, throwing your legs around his hips so the two of you can sit face to face while Remus holds you from behind.

“May we see them, Puppy?” Remus’ elegant fingertips dance along the top of the sheet which resides just a few inches below your collarbone. You shiver at his dainty touch, his fingers are light as feathers, slowly coaxing you into trusting them with this.

“It’s okay,” Sirius’ hand delicately grasps your knee over the soft sheet, “Wanna see our pretty girls but it's alright if you need a moment puppy.”

“No, s’okay.”

Sirius gives you a small smile that only grows as you drop the sheet, letting it pool at your waist.

He spares you a glance before slowly extending his arm, giving you time to tell him to stop or pull the sheet back up, and even though you want to do both those things and more you love Siri. You love Rem. And you know that they’ll be gentle and patient with you.

So instead you steel yourself for his touch relaxing as you feel Remus’ sizable hands wrap around your waist, resting on your tummy.

Your shoulders bunch back up as the tips of Sirius’ fingers, nails having been painted black just a few hours ago. His touch is steady as he finds a particularly predominant mark tracing along the curve of your tit.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous (Y/N), can’t believe I get to touch you.”

“You’re silly Siri.”

“Not silly, you’re just fucking breathtaking. You got the nicest tits.”

“Just all marked up,” You shrug your shoulders, Remus takes the opportunity to smooth his chapped lips along your joint.

“No,” Remus contradicts, “They’re marked up when we sink our teeth into them and leave pretty bruises all over them,” His hands travel from your waist to explore your tit before stopping on the top of your left one where he remembers having sucked rather fervently just an hour before, “Like right here.”

His pressing down on the flesh pulls a squeak from you as a shock of pain shoots up your spine, leaving your body tingly and the specific spot where his fingers rest pulsing.

“These,” He continues, dragging his fingers over the small indents in your skin, “Are your stripes.”

Sirius leans down, capturing your nipple in his mouth as his hands go to support the weight of your breast. The angle’s a bit awkward but it seems to do little, if anything, to discourage him.

Gently capturing your nipple with his teeth he sucks harder, nuzzling at your chest as he does so. The pleasure that you derive from such a simple act has your head falling back onto the solidity of Remus’ shoulder, pulling whimpers from your throat as you jutt your chest out.

“So fucking good,” Sirius growls as he regretably lets go of your titty, “Pretty nipples,” He accentuates his point by twisting them each between his fingers, “Pretty stripes.”

Leaning down he drags his tongue along one of your stretch marks, beginning in the valley between your breasts before extending upwards.

“They’re completely natural, Puppy,” Remus’ voice is subdued as he runs his hands up and down your waist, “Lots of people have them on their tits, Siri and I have them in other places too.”

“S different on you , Remmy,” You try to explain, “You two are perfect.”

“Does it bother you when we see them during sex baby?” He asks with genuine curiosity in his voice, the thought of making you uncomfortable when you’re so open and vulnerable leaving his stomach twisting.

“Not always, no,” He remains silent, urging you to continue, “You make me feel beautiful Rem, both of you, I just can’t help but not like them, don’t like the way they look, or the way they feel.”

You hear him suck in a deep breath and you can practically hear the gears in his mind turning as he contemplates just what to say.

His hands move to hold both sides of your face in his palms as his forehead falls to rest against yours.

“Let us show you how beautiful your tits are, will you let us do that?”

“You don’t have to-”

Sirius cuts you off, releasing your tit from his mouth, “We want to (Y/N), let us,” He dips his head back down, delicately kissing the top of one of your breasts, “Please.”

He murmurs the simple, one syllable, word against your skin, the sensation sending shivers through your body. He rolls your hardened nipples between his fingers, it's nearly enough to have you mewling as you kneel at his feet. Maybe another time.

Before you can register what’s happening, strong hands are softly pushing you back so that you’re laying down on the bed.

You feel the steady weight of your breasts bouncing on your chest before they’re being grasped by hands that just by touch you recognize as Remus’. His thumbs run along the insides of your breasts where more faded lines reside, creating swirling patterns that Remus seems to thoroughly enjoy.

“You know why you got these right?” Sirius questions, raising his brow.

You shake your head.

“Because you got big fucking tits Princess, look at them!” Smoothly he replaces Remus’ hands with his own, letting their weight settle in his hands, “Bigger than my hands, bigger than Rem’s, they’re fucking gorgeous.”

He drops onto his bum as he reaches over you to pick up his fag, raising it to his lips as his eyes fixate on your bare tits, a wicked smirk on his lips. Instead of feeling uncomfortable under his eyes the feeling is something equivalent to the sun’s rays shining on you, warming you all the way down to your core.

You can’t help but smile at the sincerity in his voice, the absolution with which he speaks pulling at your heart strings. How did you get so lucky as to deserve his love? Though he’s not as chatty you know Remus believes every word out of Sirius’ mouth, tenderly he takes your hand in his, absentmindedly playing with your fingers while your two hands rest in his lap.

“It’s just hard to believe you guys sometimes, m’your girlfriend, you gotta be nice to me.”

Gently Remus guides your hand to his crotch, you’re met by his aching cock which you’re just now realizing is standing fully erect, aching, weeping red tip smearing precum against his lean belly.

“Believe us now?”

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drarrily-we-row-along · 3 years

Text

Day 119: Hope

Harry was always alone.

It sounded a bit dramatic, a little pitiable, and more than a little untrue.

Because he was always out with friends. He had pub nights with large groups of people, he went and took those wine and paint classes with Luna and Ginny every other week, and a cooking class with Ron and Pansy on the off week. He met George, Ron, and Seamus for lunch on Thursday afternoons. Hermione dragged him to a book club with Draco once a month. He met Hermione for breakfast on Tuesdays and had dinner with Ron and Hermione every Monday (and often Fridays, too). Neville invited him for tea every Sunday and there was always someone different there with them.

Still, there was something that always separated him from his friends. All of his friends were buying houses, getting married, having babies, getting pets (or in Neville’s case carnivorous plants). And he was just... stuck.

“Well, well,” a smooth baritone voice said behind him, interrupting his sulk at the bar of the Leaky, and a smile tilted up the corner of Harry’s mouth against his will. “If it isn’t the savior himself.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Are you going to sit down?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder at the other man.

Silver eyes gleamed in amusement, “that depends.”

“On?”

“Whether you’re going to buy me dinner. It has been a long day.”

(Read more below the cut)

“Oh?” Harry said, nudging the chair next to him back with his toe. “Well it’s a good thing I ordered the shepherd’s pie, then. You and I both know that’s always big enough for two.”

“Were you expecting me then?” Draco asked with a pleased grin as he plopped down in the chair next to him.

“Nope,” Harry said. Strictly speaking, this was true, he’d been hoping the other man might show up but not expecting him to. “I just like to have leftovers.”

Draco laughed at Harry as the bartender slid an old fashioned across the counter to him, “thank you,” Draco said, nodding to the man who all but ignored him.

Harry inhaled to say something about the man’s rudeness (an action he knew was futile since he’d done it several times) but Draco put a hand on his arm and took a sip of his drink. “Not worth it,” he said.

Harry sighed at him, “Tell me about work.”

Draco grinned, it was a sort of grin that Harry used to hate when they were younger. It was a grin that meant Draco had been particularly vicious in the courtroom today. With relish he began telling Harry about the woman and her child whom he had defended against a powerful, abusive husband. How he’d eviscerated the man on the stand and freed the two of them from his grasp.

“It was brilliant,” he finished with a sigh.

“Sounds like it,” Harry replied, resting his cheek in his hand.

Draco gave him a little smile. It had taken a long time to get here, even a year ago Draco would have been looking at him, trying to work out if Harry had meant it sincerely. “Tell me about your day,” he said.

“Oh, you know how it is,” Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sitting around in board meetings, trying to make sure that the people who actually know something get heard. Watching people who only want what’s best for themselves trying to make people believe they want what’s best for everyone.”

He laughed and took a sip of his drink, “I don’t understand how or why you do it.”

“Well someone’s got to, don’t they?” he asked. “Might as well use my fame to some advantage. Help people. You know,” he said, shrugging one shoulder and picking at the label on his beer.

“Come away with me,” Draco said suddenly.

“Sorry?”

The other man grinned at him, “I’m going on vacation. I’m leaving tomorrow for a week on the beach on an island. Come with me.”

“What? Why?”

The smile that had been so bright a moment ago started to dim, “Nevermind. It’s a stupid idea. Forget I said anyth-”

“Draco,” Harry said, realizing he’d misunderstood. He put his hand on his forearm. “I’d love to. Seriously, I would love nothing more than to go and spend a week on the beach with you. I just,” he trailed off, “why would you want me to?”

“Because you’re always moping. And you’re always doing things for everyone else. And you’re bloody lonely.” He shook his head, “And no one sees it.”

“Except you, apparently,” Harry huffed.

The corner of Draco’s mouth tipped up, “Except me. Come on,” he said.

“Seriously?”

“Yes, Potter. Fucking seriously.”

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

The beach was fantastic.

Harry had never been to the beach for a vacation and he enjoyed every sun soaked minute.

Draco watched him with an expression that Harry couldn't entirely parse out. It was amused, and fond, and exasperated, and something else entirely all at once. "I don't get you," Draco said eventually, after they'd spent half the day by the ocean; lounging, swimming, drinking, and laughing.

"What do you mean?"

Draco shrugged and took a sip of his sangria before he continued, "You're wealthy, you have time, you obviously enjoy it here; why haven't you done this before?"

He frowned, "Well who wants to go on a vacation alone?"

The corner of Draco's mouth tipped up, "I'd planned to go alone. I have actually taken several vacations alone."

"Sorry, I didn't mean-"

Draco waved him off, "It's fine. I'm not offended I just," he shrugged helplessly, "I find you fascinating."

"You find me fascinating?" he asked incredulously.

"Haven't I always?" he replied wryly.

He huffed but couldn't argue considering that he'd been equally obsessed with the other man for most of their lives at this point.

"You could have done anything," Draco said, "There's nothing that the wizarding world wouldn't have given you. If you'd wanted to go on vacation and not be alone you could have had your pick of witches or wizards who would have gladly gone with you. If you wanted to be married with half a dozen children all you would have needed to do was pick the person." He shook his head, "You could have done anything you wanted, been anything you wanted, had anything you wanted but you've chosen a career that makes you miserable and you've chosen to be alone which makes you miserable." He shook his head again, "I don't get it."

"But how can I know if I'm actually good enough?" Harry asked. "How can I know if I'm good at my job or if it was just given to me because I'm Harry Potter? How can I know if the person who agrees to marry me is with me because I'm me or because I'm Harry Potter?"

"All this time I thought that you weren't on to me," he teased.

He rolled his eyes, "You know what I mean."

"You know what I think?" Draco asked as he leaned back in his beach chair and slipped his sunglasses back in place.

"I couldn't possibly guess," he replied.

The corner of Draco's mouth tipped up, "I think you're just scared."

He frowned at the other man even though Draco wasn't looking at him, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me perfectly," he replied, "You're scared."

"Of what?" he asked incredulously.

"Of being loved," he said simply. "Afraid that if you let someone love you, you'll have to let them in. You'll have to let them see all the dark, broken, twisty bits because it's not love if it's not honest."

"Oh and I suppose you're so much better at that," he snapped.

Draco snorted, "Hardly. I'm just willing to live my life until I've found someone who I'll be able to share those jagged pieces with."

He glared at the leg of the other man's chair, "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"Alright," Draco replied agreeably.

"I'm going for a walk."

He nodded and yawned, "I think I'm going to take a nap, the sun feels nice."

Harry got up and trudged away without another word, trying to decide if Draco Malfoy was full of shit or if he might just know what he was talking about.

The longer he walked and the more he turned what Draco had said over and over in his head, the more he knew that the only person whom he would trust to see his dark bits was Draco Malfoy.

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

When he got back from his walk Draco was reading a book.

"You might be right," Harry said.

He hummed, "Not to brag but I usually make a point of being right."

Harry collapsed into the sand and stared out at the waves rolling in. "Can I ask you something?"

"Nothing has stopped you so far."

He huffed, "Have you ever been in love."

"Yes," the other man replied.

"How did you know?" Harry asked.

Draco hummed thoughtfully, "I woke up one day and realized that I loved his imperfections more than I loved the perfect image I'd created of him," he said. "I realized that I'm happiest when I'm with him, that he makes me feel brave in my fear and strong in my vulnerability."

"He sounds pretty great," Harry said, swallowing down the bitterness.

"He's also completely oblivious," Draco added. "And normally that would irritate me but his humility is part of his charm."

His heart beat a little quicker, "Is that so?"

Draco grinned, "Yes. And he's not too bad on the eyes, either," he added. "He's got a lovely complexion, fantastic long, dark hair. And his eyes," he let out a low whistle, "A bloke could get lost in those eyes and he wouldn't mind staying in the lovely green of summer."

Harry's mouth went dry and he couldn't quite find any words or summon any courage. Hope blossomed dangerously inside of his chest, expanding and expanding until Harry feared there wasn't room for a shred of doubt.

"He's rather fit, too," Draco continued, giving Harry a once over that even he wasn't oblivious enough to have missed. "And you wouldn't believe his arse," he added, "exquisite."

Harry laughed at that, "You're ridiculous," he said as he bent toward the other man. "I like you, too," he whispered.

"Took you long enough to figure it out," Draco teased.

He reached up and pulled Draco's sunglasses off his face, "I'm going to kiss you," he murmured.

"Took you long enough," he repeated before reaching up to cup Harry's cheek in his palm and draw Harry in.

With a sigh, Harry happily gave himself over to the kiss, over to Draco; knowing that his heart was finally in good hands.

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

Day 118: Glass | Day 120: Tough

#100 drabbles in 100 days #one year of drarry drabbles #fluff #love confessions #friends to lovers #vacation #drarry #drarry ficlet #drarry drabbles #thanks for the prompt

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cazimagines · 3 years

Text

Dancing the night away

Synopsis: You accomply Zemo to a ball yet you feel like you don’t truly belong there and you still compare yourself to Zemo’s ex wife but Zemo comforts you and assures you he loves you

Warnings/Tags: Fluff, all the fluff, plus very spicy end scene not 18+ but hella close

Word count: 2k

Authors note: As I promised a fluff one shot after the last one. We all need more loving Zemo in our lives. Also I just wanted to say that I love and appreciate every single one of you who likes and comments on my one shots. I used to write fanfiction on sites like Quotev and Wattpad and they never really got any attention which was quite down heartening to someone who wants to carry on writing for their career so all the love you have been showing to my Zemo one shots mean the world to me. Thank you all so much.

Once again Zemo had outdone himself. Buying you the most expensive dress in the shop, lavishing you with jewelry and make-up. Looking into the mirror even you could admit how stunning you appeared. You were wearing a tight-fitting emerald green dress that flurried out at the bottom in a swirl. The front of it cut down into a low v shape showing off the sides of your breasts.

You looked like how every little girl had always wanted to look like yet you couldn’t help but wonder...was this you?

You had never imagined you would be someone who would have a lot of money or meet someone who owned money. Let alone a Baron. It had happened so suddenly and you were swept up in a daze. It felt unreal, like every time you fall asleep you expect to wake back up in your old bed in your apartment. The truth was, deep down you felt like you didn’t deserve this.

You jumped as you felt hands wrap around your waist. Resting upon your stomach and pulling you in towards their chest.

“You look like the goddess Venus” Zemo whispers as he leans his head on your neck drinking in the scent of your perfume.

“If I hadn’t already promised the president I’d be there I would say screw this dance and take you right here”

“Zemo!” you gasp, your face instantly truing bright red at such a bold remark. You two had never gone that far in your relationship yet. You needed time to be ready before you ever went that far. Zemo respected that choice though he loved to tease you like that.

He chuckles, kissing your neck briefly then pulling back to admire himself in the mirror. “We will be the best looking couple there darling”

“You think so?”

Though his mouth was still turned into a smile he turned to you serious, “I know so y/n”

You break out into a big smile making Zemo smile flashing his teeth as well. He pulls you into a soft kiss, his hands gently holding onto you.

Following Zemo, he leads you to his car and a little while later you arrive at the ball. It felt like there were thousands of people there and they were all staring at you.

Zemo loved the attention. He politely smiled at everyone and greeted his friends there, introducing you to them.

You tried to make polite conversation but you had always been rather awkward. You didn’t know what you could say to people like them but Zemo made up for it by talking for you.

It felt like hours of you walking arm in arm with Zemo till he finally led you to the dance floor.

One hand on your waist and one holding yours, you two started to waltz to the music. Zemo started intently at you. His eyes sparkling in joy just to be in your presence while your face seemed to be in a permanent state of blushing.

“Have I told you just how much I adore your blush?” Zemo asks

You slightly chuckle still looking away, “Everyday” you breathed

“And I will continue telling you every day till you believe it”

“...Zemo”

“Darling, look at me” he whispers

Slowly you manage to drag your eyes off the floor and up into his warm chocolate ones. His grip on your hand tightens as he smiles warmly at you. “Words can not describe how stunning you are y/n. Poets would weep with joy just to be in your presence, even the stars would blow down to your light”

“I love you so much Zemo” you whisper

“I love you too”

You two continue to dance for the rest of the song till the music stops. You excuse yourself to step outside for a few moments.

Though Zemo loved to tell you how much he loved you, there was always a part of you that seemed to always doubt him. You were someone so common compared to him. Compared to his ex. He hardly spoke about her. You knew they were married with a child but they were both killed and it hurt him deeply. One day you snuck into his office and found a picture of her. She was so beautiful, so different to you.

“I hate seeing you looking so down darling” you hear Zemo say as he follows you outside. He stands behind you wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your shoulder.

“I’m fine” you try to reply but Zemo shakes his head, “I know you y/n, I know you are upset by something. I want to help you with whatever is lying heavily on your soul but I can’t unless you tell me”

You don’t say anything for a moment, you just breathe in and out trying to calm your nerves. Zemo pulls back from you. He turns you around and picks up your hands in his. He brings them up and kisses them gently.

Finally, you gather up the courage to just let it all go, to just say everything that had been bothering you.

“I don’t feel like I fit in here Zemo! Before I met you I was just an average person. Someone everyone here would look down on. Part of me still finds it hard to believe you even like me. Why would someone like you, a Baron, who could have any supermodel settle for someone like me. It doesn’t make sense. I feel so outcast here and I can’t help but think about your ex-wife. She was so beautiful, I saw that picture in your office of her. I know she is prettier than me and I just can’t understand why you would choose me after being with someone like her. I just don’t understand why you choose me Zemo!” you cried, letting the tears freshly leave your eyes.

Zemo looked shocked as you spoke but his facial expression soon turned to one of sadness. He raised his hands to your face, placing it on your side, and with his thumb, he brushed the tears away.

“Oh, y/n…” he whimpered as he struggled for a moment to find the right words.

With his other arm, he wraps it around your side and pulls you close to him till you could feel his breath on yours. His eyes stare intently into yours as he speaks,

“When I saw you in that restaurant a year ago, I was awestruck. My life had turned to shit. I’d lost everything and it felt like I was drowning in the waves of pain but when I saw you it was like the angels had blessed me. What drew me to you most though was your eyes. In the sun they shone, darling, tantalizing, drawing me in deep and under. I just had to talk to you. Other women may be pretty. Perhaps. But you darling. You look like the gods came down and painted you with the best colours in existence. Everything I say to you I mean and I want you to believe it. I would do anything just so you could see yourself the way I see you. I understand how you feel about my wife. It was my fault, not talking about her to you but the way I love you isn’t the same way I loved her. I always felt like I was forced to be in love with her like it was the right thing to do. Everyone told me I would be an idiot not to pursue her so I did. Yes, I liked her but I never felt connected to her. But you darling, I would throw everything away for you. I don’t care what anyone else says because I love you. I treasure you. Just looking at you makes my heart race still and my body feel warm. I want to hold you, touch you, taste you but at the same time, I’m scared I would taint you. That you were too beautiful, too innocent for the likes of me.” Zemo declares, never taking eyes off you.

Through his words you feel yourself melting. A warmness takes over you as your heart too nervously flutters. You place your hand over his chest and you can feel his heart quickly beating, almost in time to yours. He looks at you, his eyes wide, lips slightly parted as he desperately waits for your words.

“You mean the world to me Zemo, I’ve never loved someone as much as I love you and never will. I could never come close to your way with words but...thank you. For saying that. It...it means so much to me to hear that. I’m still going to occasionally have doubts. I’m afraid that’s the way I am and I don’t think that will ever change but I’m not leaving you Zemo. Never”

Zemo wraps his arms around you bringing you into a hug as you rest on his chest, encompassed in his warmth. “I will be there every moment of every day to help you through your doubts”

Eventually, you pull back to look at him, at his lips. You were so drawn to him at that moment. You two were so close it was intoxicating. Pushing forward, you closed your eyes to kiss him. Zemo’s eyes fluttered shut as well and he raised his hands to wrap in your hair. They got tangled in them and he slightly tugged making you moan.

You both freeze as your blush comes back but you pushed past your embarrassment, kissing Zemo harder. Your core started to warm and this time you weren’t going to run away from your desire. You part your lips slightly and Zemo takes that invitation to explore your mouth with his tongue. You push into his further, wanting to feel his body against yours. This caused him to take a few steps back till he hit a wall. You moved your body slightly up and down his as you two kissed. He pulled back, out of breath as he gazed in wonder at you.

“Am I okay to go further?”

“Yes” you gasp, “Zemo I…” you knew it now, you knew you were ready, “Zemo I want you”

His teeth flash as he smiled at you before he lowered his face to your neck, sucking on a section. His hands also lowered down your back till they grabbed your ass. It elicits more moans out of you as his teeth graze your skin. His mouth wanders all over you like he was attempting to kiss every inch of you. As he moved his head lower you tangled your hands in his soft hair, tugging it slightly which made him groan.

When he reaches your chest area he grabs the back of your legs lifting you. You wrap both your arms and legs around him as he walks you over to a table and lays you down on it. You continue to hold onto him so that his body was between your tights and his chest was pressed against yours.

While everyone danced inside you and Zemo lost yourself to the pleasure outside.

#zemo #zemo x reader #zemo imagine #i love zemo #zemo x y/n #zemo fluff #tfatws #marvel #mcu #daniel brühl #baron zemo #helmut zemo #sugar daddy zemo #yes this is about zemo

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

You Light The Spark In My Bonfire Heart

Kyle Rayner x Batbro One-Shot

Word Count: 2.7K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: I HAVEN'T HAD ANY WIFI ALL DAY BUT NOW I DO AND this is my new obsession and pair and you can tear it from my cold dead hands. Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

Kyle had an easy morning routine: get up, eat breakfast, brush teeth, workout, shower, drink protein shake, and draw. It was simple and effective, and helped him maintain a sense of normalcy that he didn’t always have when he was up in space. He typically started out with sketching small things, mostly faces and limbs from memory, the occasional suit redesign, then he’d get into the bigger works, drawing comic panels and the commissions he had. And while Kyle loved to be up in space, to be a Green Lantern, drawing felt like coming home to him, like it was the natural state. That being said, he didn’t love being interrupted when he was in the middle of something important—it was bad for the groove.

***

As the second round of knocking sounded on his door, Kyle grunted and stood from his desk, padding through the hallway to his front door; he flicked the lock and pulled open the door, surprise etching across his face when he saw the eldest Wayne leaning against the door frame—rather cockily, Kyle added, because the soldier’s arm was propped on the frame, the other stuck in the side-pocket of his dark tactical bomber jacket.

“Good morning, Kyle,” he greeted with a smirk. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

The Lantern blinked, shaking his head. “Uh, no, you’re not, (Y/N).” he looked at him. “What are you doing here?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Had some business to take care of for my dad, and since I was in the area, I figured I’d drop by and see if you wanted to get some lunch with me.”

Kyle took a moment to lean out the doorway slightly, looking down the stretched hallway. “How’d you know where I live?”

“Please, a magician never reveals his secrets,” he deflected coolly, gazing at Kyle. “What do you say? Wanna get some lunch? I know a really good sports bar that serves great food.”

He looked back at (Y/N) and smiled. “Yeah. Let me go get dressed.”

The soldier merely winked in return and with fumbling hands, Kyle managed to shut the door before his cheeks burst into flames, hurrying back to his bedroom to pull together an outfit that would impress the man.

***

Kyle almost dropped to his knees when he saw the car parked outside his apartment building, and (Y/N) knew it too, because he chirped, “Gorgeous, isn’t she?”

He nodded dumbly. “Is this a McLaren 720S?”

“Mhm.” He opened the doors and slid into the driver’s seat, looking through the passenger door. “Coming?”

“Am I ever,” Kyle breathed, climbing into the seat, immediately running his hands along the dashboard and seat. “I’m in love.”

“Wait till you hear her purr,” (Y/N) said, closing the doors, and pushing the ignition. The sports car roared to life and he grinned at the way Kyle’s face melted. “Yeah, she’s a beauty.” He put the car in drive and looked through the side mirror, then pulled out onto the street.

“Is this one of your dad’s cars?”

“Nah, I bought this for myself a couple months ago.” He pulled the sunglasses from his t-shirt and put them on. “This and an Audi TT.”

Kyle huffed a laugh. “Jesus, you billionaires live it up, don’t you?”

(Y/N) smiled. “Hey, I live life in the fast lane. Might as well drive in it too.” He pushed a button on the touch screen and music filtered through the speakers, and Kyle’s face pinched in confusion. “What?”

“This isn’t—James Blunt isn’t the music I figured you’d play.”

“What’d you think I’d be listening too? Rock?” he chuckled, turning the volume down a bit. “Don’t get me wrong, I listen to all kinds of rock music, but I figured you’d want something easy rather than head-bang your brains out rock.” (Y/N) stopped at a red light and glanced over. “You can look through the artists on my phone if you want.”

Kyle shook his head, relaxing into the seat as the melody flowed through him. “No, I like this artist.” The soldier merely smiled in return, pressing the gas pedal again, and Kyle suddenly remembered something. “Speaking of artist, I saw the canvas in your bedroom the other day. Do you draw?”

(Y/N) hummed. “Not like you. It’s more of a pastime than a lifestyle.”

“You’re good at it. You’re painting your family in their suits. Details and designs included.” The artist regarded him with impression. “That takes skill.”

“I’d like to think I just have a steady hand and a lot of patience for stressful tasks.” (Y/N) turned the wheel, coming up behind a line of cars. “It’s an easy way for me to relax and mentally run through past events.”

“Like what?” Kyle questioned curiously.

(Y/N)’s eyes narrowed, but not in a loathing way, more of a thoughtful one. “Missions, conversations, things I could’ve done differently, things I will do differently.” He shrugged again. “Painting for me is just a time when I think about everything and nothing.”

“Well, you’re great at it, (Y/N).”

He snorted. “It’s just a bunch of paintings of my family and friends and military shit.”

Kyle blinked and leaned over. “Wait, is that painting in the den—”

“The one of the F-18 Super Hornet?”

“Yeah. You painted that?”

(Y/N) nodded. “Yep. I got Hal Jordan to take me up in one a few years ago and decided to commemorate the trip.”

“Wow,” the Lantern breathed. “I stared at that canvas for at least an hour the first time I saw it. I was just so blown away by how amazing it was.” He chuckled and shook his head. “And to find out, you drew it and not some world-famous painter.”

“Hey, I could be world famous if I wanted.” (Y/N) shot back, turning onto a less busy backstreet. “I just choose to retain my talents for family and friends.”

“Because of your job?”

“That too.” He agreed. “My squad and I take careful precautions to avoid our faces being seen during any missions for the safety of our families.” His face turned as solemn as his voice. “We do what we do to make the world safer. To keep our families and friends safe. It’s imperative that we’re not seen.”

Kyle cocked a brow. “But you’re Bruce Wayne’s son?”

“I am,” he nodded. “But I’m not as…out as the rest of my siblings. You’d be able to recognize them from press photos, but me not so much.” (Y/N) pulled into a parking spot outside the bar. “People only recognize me when they see the name on the credit cards. And I prefer to keep it that way.” A goofy smile crossed his lips. “The high life isn’t for me.”

“Says the man that drives a 710 horsepower sports car.” Kyle shot back with a grin of his own and (Y/N) stuck his tongue out as he turned the car off and opened the doors.

“Okay, I’m not actively in the high life but that doesn’t mean I don’t like luxury.” He closed the car doors and opened the front door to the bar for Kyle. “After you.”

“Thank you.” He replied, and walked inside, only stopping to turn and ask, “Do you want to sit at the bar or a table?”

(Y/N) tipped his head to the side. “I’m down with both, but I like the bar more.”

“Bar it is,” Kyle said and slid into one of the chairs, (Y/N) the other, and an older man wandered over.

“Well, I’ll be damned, is that (Y/N) Wayne I see?”

He turned, expression morphing into joy as he reached out and shook the older man’s hand. “Jack, it’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you son. How’ve you been?”

“Ah, you know me, sir. Nothin’ changing but the weather.”

Jack snorted. “And the desert where you dig sand outta your ass.”

(Y/N) chuckled. “Damn straight.” He looked at Kyle. “Kyle, I’d like you to meet Jack Dagher. He’s an old CO of mine.”

Kyle shook the man’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“It’s all mine,” Jack replied. “It’s been a while since (Y/N) brought anybody here.”

At that, Kyle turned to the soldier who was busy looking anywhere but his face. “Is that so?”

“Oh yeah. Sonovabitch doesn’t bring his dates here unless he really likes ‘em.”

(Y/N) coughed, glaring at the man. “Alright, we get it. Aren’t you supposed to be taking orders?”

Jack gave him a smug look in return. “What can I get you boys to drink?”

“I’ll take a beer,” Kyle said, and Jack rolled his eyes.

“No shit, kid. What kind?”

(Y/N) snickered as Kyle flushed. “Uh, a Heineken.”

Jack sighed. “And he had such potential. (Y/N)?”

“Gimme a strawberry daiquiri then water after.”

“Still ordering fruity drinks, huh?”

“Hey, they get you drunk faster than horse piss does, you old fart.” He shot back and the old man chuckled.

“Touché.” He slapped the bar. “I’ll bring those to you with an order of chili fries.”

“Thanks Jack,” (Y/N) smiled, watching the man walk off before turning to Kyle who was watching one of the baseball games. “You like sports?”

He tipped his head side to side. “I don’t not like them. I was never a sporty kid in school, but I like watching them.” He looked at the solider. “What were you like in school? Jock or prep?”

“Probably a bit of both,” he answered. “I played sports and had the highest grades.” Shrugging, he added, “And being a Wayne boosted me into the top tier of schools, so, there’s that. To be honest, I think all of us Wayne kids were and are a mixture of every stereotypical category.”

“I can see that,” Kyle laughed. “Especially with Jason and Dick.”

“Shit, I was talking about Timmy.” (Y/N) said. “That kid’s a grade A nerd.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

The two of them laughed and a woman placed their drinks in front of them, both giving their thanks as they took sips.

“Can I ask you something, (Y/N)?”

“My muscles are one hundred percent real. Especially my abs. Which you’re allowed to feel on in envy if you want.”

Kyle snorted into his beer, wiping his mouth. “No!” a few more chuckles passed his lips as he wiped the bar. “Are you…you know…?”

“A Leo?” (Y/N) offered with a smile, but his eyes told Kyle he knew exactly what the Lantern was asking, and he said, “I like the liquor, but I don’t care what label it has on it.”

The other man smiled. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“But if you want the technical term, I am pansexual.” He regarded Kyle a moment. “You?”

“Bisexual.”

His lips pulled in an impressed fashion. “Pretty fly for a bi guy.”

Kyle gaped at him for a moment, then shoved (Y/N) in the side as he buried his face in his arms and laughed. “You’re so stupid.”

“Ah thank you,” he grinned. “I get it from my old man.”

“You,” he cut himself off with a cackle. “do not get that from him.”

“Look, you know the big man in the suit. You don’t know the complete goober we live with,” (Y/N) chuckled, smiling at the waitress who placed menus in front of them; he picked his up and flipped through it.

“What do you recommend?”

“Hmm…anything with bacon on it.” He showed the menu. “If you like salads, get the steak and blue cheese one, it’s fantastic. Or if you’re more into tacos, they’ve got these awesome shrimp carnitas with chili peppers.”

Kyle’s brows furrowed as he looked the menu over. “What are you gonna get?”

“My usual. Tomahawk steak with garlic butter and mashed potatoes.” (Y/N) groaned and rested his head back. “I haven’t had a good steak in months, and I can just taste it already.”

“So, you’re a meat and potatoes kind of man?”

He grinned, keeping his eyes closed. “Unlike the cup noodle and Hawaiian roll man beside me.”

“Ouch. Hit me where it hurts.”

“C’mon Kyle, hit me with your best shot.”

“Better watch it, (Y/N),” he grinned. “You might be the next notch in my pencil case.”

“You’re such a nerd.”

***

“Holy crap,” Kyle breathed, hands resting lightly on his stomach. “I’m stuffed.”

(Y/N) moaned. “Stick a fork in me. I’m done.”

“Done?” their waitress laughed. “You haven’t even finished your desserts yet!”

“Oh God, don’t make me,” the Lantern whined. “I’ll explode.” He looked over. “(Y/N), take one for the team.”

“Pass,” he replied. “I think I’ve gained ten pounds just looking at the rest of the cheesecake.”

The woman laughed. “I’ll wrap the leftovers for you boys.” She wandered off, leaving them alone, and a blaring ringtone filled the space between.

(Y/N) jumped a little, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Do you mind if I get this really quick?”

Kyle shook his head. “Go ahead.”

He slid his thumb along the bottom and rested the phone on the bar. “This is Wayne.”

Captain! Finally. I’ve been texting you all afternoon.

“I know,” he snorted. “I’ve been ignoring it.”

Yeah well, the longer you ignore me the slower it takes for the radar dish to get replaced.

“What are you talking about?” (Y/N) asked. “I thought you’d procured one.”

I did. Then the buyer told me I wasn’t registered for official military hardware.

He frowned. “That’s odd. You did contact Thomas, right?”

Yeah. Beady eyed looking motherfucker who serves on the George Washington, right?

“That’s him.” (Y/N) hummed. “Tell you what, I’ll call him later this evening and get it all sorted out, yeah?”

Sounds good. Hey, did you take that guy out yet? Your little brother won’t stop texting me about some twinkie you’re into.”

(Y/N) froze as he felt Kyle’s eyes drilling into the side of his head and he stuttered, “Uh, Nadeen, now’s not the best time.”

What do you mean best—oh…ohhhhhh. I, uh, I gotta go, Captain.

“Yep. Bye.” He locked the phone and shoved it back into his pocket, refusing to meet Kyle’s eyes. “So…you catch the baseball game?”

“Which one of your brother’s thinks I’m a twink?” Kyle asked. “Wait, don’t tell me. It’s Jason, isn’t it?” he grunted in his throat, deadpanning, “I can’t believe my best friend thinks I’m a twink.”

“It’s Dick, actually.” (Y/N) grinned, turning to face him and he reached over, pinching Kyle’s cheek. “It’s just ‘cause you’re so cute and perky.”

The Lantern merely glared at him, griping, “I’m not as strong as you, put I can punch pretty hard.”

“Ooo, those are fighting words,” he shot back with a smirk, letting Kyle go. “Careful, I’m ticklish.”

“I feel like I’m talking to Hal.”

(Y/N) whined, all but collapsing onto Kyle who started snickering. “I’ve just been murdered.” He buried his face in Kyle’s shoulder. “Can’t believe I was just compared to Highball. The world must be coming to an end.”

“Oh, come on, you big baby. You’re not dying.”

“I am!” he turned his head, gazing at Kyle. “You’ll have to carry me to safety.”

“I don’t think I’m strong enough to carry you.”

“Are you calling me fat?”

“I did not say that.”

“You did, but in more words.”

“Alright, now I’m talking to Guy.”

“THAT’S SO MUCH WORSE!”

***

He leaned against the door frame as Kyle unlocked his front door and pushed it open, turning to look at him. “I had a lot of fun today, (Y/N).” he murmured. “Thanks.”

Winking, he replied, “I’m glad you did. I’d like to do it again soon if you want.”

Kyle nodded. “I’d like that.”

They stared at each other for a few moments and (Y/N) smiled, patting the door frame. “Well, I’d better be heading out. Have to get home in time for dinner.” He paused, giving the man a warm look. “Thanks for having lunch with me, Kyle.”

He’d not gotten two feet from the door when Kyle’s hand wrapped around his wrist. “Wait.” He turned and the Lantern leaned forward, pressing his lips to (Y/N)’s cheek. “Be careful on your way back.”

“I will,” he murmured, watching Kyle wave and disappear into his apartment, the door shutting behind him.

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taeescript · 3 years

Text

29 + 1 (Part Two)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰: In which Seokjin is the Devil from The Devil Wears Prada, Taehyung is your work Jesus and Jimin is your handsome successful brother.

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: seokjin x reader (squint harder than before for taehyung x reader)

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: slice of life; ceo!seokjin; a dash of enemies to lovers au

𝔴𝔠: 7.6k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: language; a plethora of drunk people, maybe a sext, and a ton of lying (possible implication of impending smut?!)

𝔞/𝔫: this part came out longer than i thought it would be but *shrugs* feedback and thoughts always welcomed. enjoy (: 𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯: DailyHive is real; this is not associated with it

part one || part three

The bright pop music that is blaring from the speakers does little to slow your animated talking. Bodies are packed into the small local bar, and students on summer break fill booths and form a snake of impatient, drunk (and horny) people. A slow trickle of the brazen has started to fill the dance floor as the evening morphs into the night.

You whip your hair into a ponytail and dab at the sweat that is beading your forehead. You definitely should have worn that sleeveless top rather than this thicker t-shirt dress.

“So, is he like your sugar daddy or something?” Taehyung asks, “Also drink.”

Friday nights were usually spent at home, snuggled under the blankets in your pjs binging another rewatch of Friends. After work today, you could no longer hold onto your secret and invited Taehyung out for drinks. His girlfriend, Fei, was supposed to join but had been held back for overtime.

You tip the shot back with no chase.

“You’re a monster,” he comments as he bites into his lemon piece.

The two of you had made a bet at the beginning of the evening: you each chose a pop song and each time it played, the nominee had to take a shot. That was your fourth of the night, and to say there was a bit of a buzz is an understatement.

“It’s all throat technique, Tae,” you say with a bit of a slur, “Hit the back and swallow. No innuendo intended. Also, why the hell haven’t you had any to drink?”

“You picked ‘Peaches’ for fuck’s sake.”

“I told you I don’t listen to pop music. It was the first one playing.”

“And shouldn’t that have told you something? Justin Bieber of all people?”

“Shut up. It’s your song.” You nod at the pink-faced barista for another round. She slaps your order in front of the two of you without so much a glance.

You don’t even know what song is playing, but you feel quite satisfied watching Taehyung make a face as he downs it in one go.

He clears his throat after the liquor has burned its way down to his stomach. “Back to my question: is he your sugar daddy?”

You bark out a laugh. Was he? Perhaps the fact that he paid for fancy meals at lunch? Those have been his one o’clock meetings for the past two months.

“I don’t know. I’d rather he buy me a car or pay my rent if anything. A casual 1k a week wouldn’t be so bad either. We just sit in his office and eat in secret, Tae. He’s ‘training me in the art of culinary cuisine’. I think it’s just so I don’t embarrass him by stuffing a shrimp cocktail up my nose.”

“You do know – ”

“Yes, I know. And I would never. It’s a metaphor. It’s just that the position ‘intern’ is quite loosely defined at DailyHive, don’t you think?”

Taehyung rinses his mouth with water before speaking. “So let me get this right. Mr. Kim calls you into his office, says he’s going to take you as his guest to the biggest tech event of the year, treats you to lunches and doesn’t ask for anything in return? No secret midnight meetups or shady business deals…”

You shake your head.

“Damn,” Taehyung says, resting his arm on the bar table, “Forget sugar daddy. He’s just daddy.”

Sticking your tongue out, you gag visibly at his comment. “Do not ever call him that again, Tae; ev-er.”

He laughs and watches you pensively. After a moment’s thought, he says, “Nobody has ever called me Tae.”

“What do they call you then?” you reply, wrinkling your brows together. A cute brunette across the room catches your eyes and for the briefest of seconds, you wonder what a one-night-stand would feel like.

He shrugs. “Just Taehyung.”

The brunette waves in your direction. You are about to return his wave when an equally cute brunette runs up to him. He promptly kisses her before swivelling her around to join his group of friends.

“Sorry. Do you want me to stop? I just assumed since we were out of the office…”

Oh Fate, how cruel you are. Life of twenty cats and solidarity, here you come. Maybe dogs. You feel like you could be more of a dog person.

“No,” he stops you, “You can call me Tae. Whatever you want.”

You turn your attention back on the also cute brunette in front of you. In all honestly, despite his youthful god-like countenance, he looks slightly out of place at this college bar with you in his upstanding business attire and dorkishly adorable thick-framed glasses.

“Sure. How about Tee-Tee? Or Hyungie? The TaeMan?” You wiggle your brows with the suggestion.

“God help me.”

The two of you clink your shot glasses together even though neither of your songs are being played.

His Apple watch lights up to indicate an incoming message. He relays the text to you, “Fei’s done work. She’s on her way now.” You can’t help but notice a shift in his previously excited demeanor.

You nudge him with your elbow. “Aren’t you excited? She’ll need a glass of wine or two to destress after work. I might be projecting onto you for this part, but you’re buzzed. So after we get her to unwind I’m sure the overwhelming power of pheromones will get you lucky tonight.” You wink at him to emphasize your point.

“She’s not a big drinker. She’s probably just going to come and ask to leave in five minutes. Bars like this aren’t really her thing either,” he states. He then unbuckles his watch and tucks it away into the pocket of his pants. Undoing the cuffs of his shirt, he rolls up the sleeves and continues to regard you solemnly. “Okay, next round is one me. Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to switch songs?”

You notice how nice, long, and slender his fingers are. Plus the thing of girls liking when men have visible veins on their forearm? That had never really caught your attention until now.

“She’s a bit of a bitch,” you say and immediately regret, “Shit, sorry. That just slipped out. Alcohol.”

He offers you his water to drink.

“I mean, she’s a little…uptight at times? But people can be completely different in and out of work. I can only imagine how stressful it is in her position. Working overtime until 9pm on a Saturday night seriously sucks,” you say to try and mend your wrongdoing.

“Fei in the office is basically Fei at home,” he says softly, “It’s always work with her.”

“We support career-driven women, yeah?” A smile is offered from you to him.

He finally lets out a small one and nods. Out of the blue, he reaches over and covers your hand with his. Staring intently into your eyes, he says, “I know she makes you do her reports and occupies your time to do her coffee runs as well. You can say no to her. She may be my girlfriend, but you’re technically my intern, and I will stand on your side no matter what.”

“Um, okay. Thanks, Tae,” you say. His sincerity has caught you off guard.

At that moment, the sound of clicking heels pierce its way into your eardrums through the noise of the even busier bar. Taehyung quickly retracts his hand.

Fei arrives, not a hair out of place in her tightly pulled bun. Her lips are painted a striking red against the paleness of her skin, and her manicured nails dig into the forearm of Taehyung when she reaches them. Even though she is wearing an otherwise drab office business suit, the curvature of her body draws quite a few glances from the younger men in the crowd.

“It’s like a zoo here,” she sneers, turning away from a sacrificial lamb who had been bold enough step out of his circle of friends to greet her with a sleezy “hey”.

“Hi, Fei. Busy night?” you greet her first.

She gives you a tight-lipped smile. “Yes. I don’t know why you weren’t there. Isn’t it the intern’s job to complete reports?”

Again, a loosely defined use of “intern” at DailyHive.

You return her smile with a crisp one of your own.

She turns away from you and regards Taehyung, who looks as if he had been the sacrificial lamb instead. “Teddybear, let’s go home. You know this type of place isn’t my vibe. I’m getting a headache already.”

You raise an eyebrow at his pet name.

He turns a little bit pinker, if that is possible under the current alcohol-induced glow of his cheeks, and says, “Um, sure. Y/N, are you going to be okay getting home?”

Waving him off, you show him your phone. “30% left. I’ve got pepper spray in my bag and enough booze in me to not run from a fight. I’ll call an Uber home soon, don’t worry.”

Fei has already begun to fight her way through the squirming, dancing bodies. Taehyung glances quickly at her and turns back to you once last time. “Text me that you’re home safe.”

“Will do, boss,” you smile at him warmly.

He lingers for just a moment more before running after his impatiently waiting girlfriend.

You turn back to the bar and order another beer for yourself. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is perhaps the biggest perk of being single.

...

On the opposite side of town, sinking deeply into a soft lounge chair is Seokjin enjoying a rare evening out with his best friend. He has swapped his usual attire for a more relaxed fit of a white oversized crewneck and techwear bottoms. A heavy, exorbitant fur-lined long leather coat hangs on the coat rack beside the door to their private VVIP room. He swirls his glass of Chateau Lafite before sipping delicately.

Outside, only a handful of patrons sit quietly engrossed in their own conversations. It is a relatively empty night at the high-end lounge. A lady sings sultrily on stage with the smooth background of a saxophone as accompaniment.

Junho has poured himself another glass while he is talking to Seokjin. Seokjin had since slightly tuned out his friend’s rather elongated rendition of another celebrity sighting to occupy his mind with another individual.

“Earth to Jin? When did you get so lightweight since I’ve been gone?” Junho waves a hand in front of Seokjin’s nose.

Seokjin blinks to refocus.

“The mansion I bought last year or the one I bought last month?” he reiterates. Sensing that Seokjin truly had no idea what the topic at hand had been, he tries again.

“Where should I do my birthday party this year, man? I thought the mansion from last year since it’s closer to the city, but I feel like it’s been reused too many times. It’s not completely furnished yet, but the property I got last month is significantly bigger and I can probably host more people.”

“The new place then,” Seokjin answers half-heartedly.

Junho grumbles something intelligible.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing,” Junho sighs, “Tell me what’s new with you. How’s that little project of yours going? I still can’t believe you won’t let me know who you’re planning to take to the Gala.”

Seokjin had refused to release even the slightest detail about you to Junho. Letting him know that Seokjin had agreed to one of his plans would be enough to inflate Junho’s ego for at least a little while.

“It’s been going...”

Junho waits for more of Seokjin’s answer, but his friend’s attention has been turned to a received text.

10:17pm “Safe and sound, Teddy Bear.”

10:17pm “Or should I say Taeddybear? 🥴”

10:18pm “That last beer done me rael godo.”

10:18pm “Real good**”

Seokjin raises a brow at the unknown number. He responds back.

10:18pm “Who is this? I think you’ve got the wrong number.”

Junho crosses his legs and sits back with a sigh. He presses the button to request for an attendant.

10:19pm “You know who… Anyways, I just wanted to say thank you for saying you’ve got my back. It’s definitely appreciated.”

The response doesn’t do much except to further pique Seokjin’s curiosity.

“Sorry,” he says, sliding his phone back into his pocket, “Rogue text I think.”

Junho shrugs. “Is that right? Seems to have caught your attention.” There is now a manner of indifference to his voice.

“It’s going well, by the way – answering your question. I mean, all things considered. It’s not like I have to teach her how not to stuff a cocktail shrimp up your nose.”

His friend snorts. “I’d be concerned and against this person if it’s who you’re planning to bring.”

Seokjin’s phone buzzes again.

10:21pm “Pray for me when I wake up with the worst hangover of my life. I’m going to bed now.”

A moment of silence.

10:21pm “I hope I didn’t piss off Fei tonight for stealing you for the evening.”

10:22pm “Okay I’ll shut up now. Please don’t tell me you’re reading this. You should be getting some 😼💦.”

The emoji makes Seokjin choke, liquid sputtering from his lips.

Junho cusses. He angrily dabs at the speckle of red wine that has landed on his pearly white top.

10:23pm Download attached image. “Just in case, here’s a little something to get the night started 😉”

“What the hell man?” Junho gets up and makes his way to the bathroom. Luckily, the previously called attendant had arrived in time to escort him.

Seokjin barely notices that he is alone in room as he taps the download button. It isn’t until he has returned home and is looking at the picture one last time before bed that he realizes who his mysterious texter is.

The employee nametag clipped to the collar of your workday shirt hanging on the arm of a chair can only be found when zoomed in past your painted toes and naked feet.

...

You cannot hide your nervousness when you arrive at your “lunch meeting” the following Monday morning. All weekend, you had cursed yourself for not better checking who the recipient of your texts were before pressing send. Never had you thought that in your drunken stupor you would mix up “The Devil” in your contact list with “Taehyung Kim.” Curse you and your lack of friends beginning with the letter “T”.

You balk before, a hand poised in perfect position for a knock. Maybe he didn’t download it? And even if he did, it was just a troll feet pic. You had made sure that it was as pg-13 as possible before you had sent it.

“Hi,” you greet sheepishly when he has given you the go to enter.

In a smart plain blue button-up and round frames that are almost certainly for the aesthetics, the CEO of the company and your boss sizes you up and down.

“I know we’ve gotten to know each other better these past few weeks. But you’d think it’s still common courtesy to at least make eye contact,” he says. You look at him wide eyed without a word.

He rolls his eyes but does not gesture to your usual seat. In fact, you don’t spy a take-out container in sight. He instead stands up and picks up his phone, walking to the door. He notices you have yet to move.

“Let’s get moving. You’ve only got a 45 minute lunch.”

You scramble to match his speed and catch Taehyung’s eye as you grab your jacket at your desk. Taehyung’s gaze follows you as you hurry to leave in pursuit of Seokjin’s coattail.

...

The restaurant is a popular vegan establishment with a plethora of greenery crawling up its high ceilings and a window-framed overview of the city’s skyline. Waiters and waitresses who may just as well be walking New York Fashion Week serve you brunch mimosas on a golden plate; they attentively wait to the side in case you ever run out of water.

Common topics are rare between the two of you. Initially, you respectfully kept quiet and only answered questions when asked, but you have never been one for awkward silence. Yes, it’s awkward only if you make it awkward; there is just no denying the hanging suspense that curls your toes each time. Recently, you have started with simple inquiries regarding the company, who they might meet at the Gala and everyday mundane topics.

“You’re probably wondering why we’re out of the office,” Seokjin says. He continues shortly after taking a bite of his meal and ignores the look of your surprise at his initiation of a conversation. “My office has been getting stuffy with the warmer weather so I thought it’d be nice to get some fresh air. How’s the food?”

You nod, making small sounds of contentment as you chew on the Avocado Lime Tartare. Mmm… tart-y.

He takes a deep breath in, stalling the incoming conversation. “It’s my friend’s birthday this next weekend.”

“Oh,” you say, “Happy early birthday to him.”

“He’s my best friend.”

“Well… An extra happy early birthday to him.”

A sigh. “Are you free next weekend?”

Your chewing comes to a halt and you blink once at his question. Next weekend is the weekend before the Silver Gala. It is also the sole weekend before your birthday the following Friday after the Gala. You had hoped to spend it with Taehyung and maybe even Jimin who had promised to be in town on a long overdue vacation despite your chastising to visit your parents first.

He senses your trepidation. Quickly, he explains himself,

“He’s having a birthday party Saturday night. He has a place about an hour north of here. I can have somebody pick you up if that’s more convenient. I don’t have a birthday present for him and thought it’d be nice for you to meet him.”

“You’re giving him me for a present?” you ask, incredulously.

He bites his tongue. He never anticipated how awkward this conversation could go.

“You’re going as my plus one. He really wants to meet you; in fact, he insisted that you be there. He’ll be at the gala too. I have something else planned for his birthday present,” he adds hastily, “Besides, you’re less than qualified as a present.”

Musing silently to yourself, you wonder if in any situation should a human be qualified as a present. Despite that, you hate yourself as you agree on the spot.

The rest of the lunch passes by quickly in dull silence. As Seokjin pays for the meal on the company card (and hands you the receipt for reimbursement), you note that there has been no comment made on any strange photos texted to him over the weekend.

Perhaps being nonchalantly implied as a human birthday gift to a stranger is your karma for sending weird texts to your boss.

Seokjin stays inside the car as he drops you off at the office after lunch, already preparing for his next business meeting. You nod your goodbye and step onto the pavement through the courteously held open door of the limousine.

“Y/N, try a soft pink. Fuchsia is not your colour,” he tells you as the door is closed.

He then leaves you standing in front of the large office doors, staring at your chipped, week-old purple toenails.

...

“I’m not exactly expecting a package in the mail or a dress laid out on the hotel bed – ”

“You guys are staying at a hotel?” Taehyung says over the phone.

You are standing in your bedroom, an hour before when Seokjin is supposed to pick you up as an offering to his best friend. There are two dresses laid out on your Hello Kitty bed covers: a simple black dress you had worn once when you were a little bit more in shape and your prom dress.

“No, I’m at home. But I mean, let me play into this movie metaphor.”

“You suck at metaphors.”

You have your phone propped up on some pillows so that you can see Taehyung as you debate your fashion decision. He is in a relaxed white tee, hair messily framing his face after a shower and a bowl of popcorn in his hands. You watch as a droplet of water runs down his face from his still-wet hair. He nonchalantly licks it off from the side of his mouth.

“As I was saying, it wouldn’t hurt to get me something. He made it seem like it was a big deal. Like doesn’t the male lead usually surprise the female lead with a big bouquet of flowers and this over-the-top expensive dress which she wears and makes the male lead fall head over heels in love with her?”

He chews silently on a kernel then probes, “You want Mr. Kim to fall in love with you?”

“No,” you hastily correct, “It’s a metaphor. I think you’re the one who sucks at metaphors.”

There is a beep on your phone to indicate you have another incoming call.

“Tae, I’m going to have to call you back. My brother’s calling me,” you tell him. The black dress; your old prom dress is way too early 2000s. Black never hurts.

“Okay. Have fun tonight. Pretend that it’s your birthday party. And then I’ll meet you for brunch tomorrow, my treat? You can tell me all about it,” he says. “Also the black. You look cute in that one.”

“My party if I was 30, rich and successful. Oh wait, I’ll have one thing in common soon; that’s a start. Thanks though. I’ll call you tomorrow morning once I get up,” you say, then switch the call over to your brother. You had missed the flush of his cheeks as you busily swipe your phone.

Sticking the prom dress back into your closet, you rummage around the meager display of shoeboxes for a pair of high heels.

“Hey, Jimin,” you greet over the phone.

“Jesus, I do not need to be accosted by my half-naked sister,” he yells over the phone.

You turn rapidly, seeing that you had accidentally continued a video call from when you had hung up on Taehyung. You throw a pillow over the camera in your haste to cover yourself up.

“I was going to ask why you’re dressed like that but on second thought, I think I’ll leave your sexual exploits as your own secret.”

Despite how disturbed you feel about this comment, his cheerful voice makes you smile.

“So little sis, the weekend before the big three-oh!”

“Please stop reminding me.”

“Where do you want to meet tonight? I just got off the plane, but I can be ready to meet in about an hour. I booked a hotel close to the airport.”

Shit. You forgot to tell Jimin. These heels will have to do.

“Um… I, uh…”

“What?”

You clear your throat and begin to undress in front of the mirror. You have a sudden conscious thought that the dusty treadmill in your living room seems to be staring daggers at your back.

“I’ve got plans tonight.”

“Plans? I wasn’t even aware you had friends here.”

“Ouch, Jimin. But yes, I have friends. In fact, I am meeting a friend for brunch tomorrow if you want to join. I’m sure he’ll be okay with it.”

“He?” Jimin repeats, “Should I put on my big brother boxing gloves? Give him a good talking to in case he’s interested in my baby sister?” Pause. “Was that who you were calling before?”

You bite your answer back, not feeling the need to go down that rabbit hole.

“He’s just a friend; A co-worker really,” you say, “He’s also unavailable. And before you suggest anything, his goalkeeper is technically one of my bosses so I do not want to try and shoot past her thank you very much.”

Jimin laughs. “I wasn’t going to suggest anything. Well if you’re busy tonight, tomorrow morning works for me. Give me a call. I’ll spend the night in watching some good ol’ Netflix and enjoy this vacation time.”

“Sorry again,” you apologize.

“Go out and have fun,” he says, “You deserve it.”

The two of you finish off the call with the usual goodbyes. You have forty-five minutes to dress the part of a sparkly birthday surprise for the co-founder of the company you work for. Throwing on your favourite throwback music, you get to work.

Once satisfied, you snap a picture and sending it to Taehyung making special care that you have picked the right individual this time.

...

The mansion is bigger than you could have ever imagined, and the amount of people present are…

“You’re telling me I can do whatever I want tonight,” you ask Seokjin in the car.

There is no denying that Seokjin knows how to dress for an event. In a velvety black and white suit, contrasted by his blonde hair which he has elected to temporarily dye for the evening, he looks very much the posh CEO magazines brand him out to be. You are glad you elected for the simple black dress as standing beside this Renaissance statue in a floral pastel yellow dress would be like planting dandelions in Kanye’s sculpture garden (if he ever wanted one).

“The majority of people won’t recognize you after tonight. They’ll also be too drunk to even register anything you tell them,” Seokjin says.

He cannot believe that you chose a simple black dress. Did you really not own anything remotely feminine besides the most generic clubbing outfit? Even if you had wanted to make an appearance as a hooker, at least make it an expensive-looking one. Maybe he should have bought you that Versace dress he spotted in the window the other day. Instead…

“Take this. Your earrings are too gaudy for this event.”

You touch the sparkly black cats you have put into your ears. Their eyes are made of crystal, and you thought it looked quite fetching in the light. Opening up the box, you see a dainty elegant pair of teardrop earrings that may or may not be of real diamonds.

“Only Junho will know who you really are and then you can enjoy the rest of your night. I don’t want you to feel like you’re being held here against your will.”

Putting them on, you note that even this simple change in attire has elevated the entirety of your presence. You felt as luxurious as this gift.

“Thanks, Seokjin,” you try the first name basis he had insisted upon for this evening, “Not going to lie, I had imagined that maybe you’d send me a dress in the mail or something, but this is still very nice.”

He snorts and rolls his eyes. “Like in the movies? Please, I run a start-up company. I’m not a millionaire and I don’t think you would appreciate my handouts.”

You don’t respond, making your second note of the night on the Prada label on the cuff of his suit. “To clarify, I don’t introduce myself as your plus-one tonight.”

“No. I don’t want you associated with me,” he curtly states. He watches as your smirk twitches and he hits himself mentally in the head again. “It’s to protect you. There are bound to be tons of paparazzi tonight at a party as big as this. I don’t want you to find yourself in the tabloids tomorrow morning. Just be smart.”

The car pulls to a stop after inching its way up to the front door. People mill about outside in extravagant brands, holding glasses of champagne. The man of the hour is somewhere inside the building, charming his way into new business deals as well as making new friends.

“Stay close to me. You can leave after we meet Junho. It is his birthday after all,” Seokjin offers a hand as you step out of the car.

You take it, looping yourself into him so that your hand rests on his forearm. You are only 13 days younger than Junho, and yet this striking contrast in lifestyle hits you like a landslide while the two of you walk up the stairs and into the mansion.

Inside, it is dim with disco lights flashing to the beat of amped party music. Upon entrance, the two of you are offered glasses of liquor (you take a swirling iridescent drink) to which you are then ushered to where the birthday boy lounges.

Junho has an even more youthful face than Seokjin does. Where Seokjin’s features exude class and charm, Junho appears mischievous and looks to have stepped out of every girl’s bad boy dream.

You stop Seokjin with a tug and make him look at you. “Tell me: do I look like a passable birthday offering?”

Seokjin rolls his eyes and pulls you along with him.

“Jin!” Junho hollers loudly across the room when spotting his oldest friend. There is a doll-like female magnetized to his side. “This is Clara, my date for the evening.”

Seokjin shakes her hand and greets them. The female cannot seem to pry her eyes away from this handsome new stranger. He introduces himself chivalrously to her as Junho sides up to you and grips your hands in his. His breath smells strongly of mixed drinks, and you know that in about fifteen minutes the entire night will be a blur for him.

“You must be Y/N!” he says excitedly, “Jin didn’t tell me that you were coming! What a surprise!”

“I am,” you greet back with a large smile. “Although I’m also surprised. Seokjin told me that you had insisted I came.”

Seokjin grits his teeth, annoyed at Junho. Would he ever learn when to keep his big mouth closed?

Laughing loudly, Junho grabs two drinks just as a waiter passes by and hands them to you. “Insist might be a strong word,” he says, drilling another hole unknowingly, “I honestly thought I’d have to play part-time wingman tonight. But I’m glad he’s got someone by his side.” He jabs you a little too hard in the ribs. “Next week’s gala is going to be fun! Okay, now there’s only one rule tonight: there are no rules!”

The four of you clink your glasses together, while you do your best to hide an embarrassed smile on behalf of the birthday boy.

“You bet I’m going around as your trophy wife tonight,” you whisper in Seokjin’s ear when Junho looks away.

He whirls around to look at you, the tip of both your noses impossibly close together. He can taste the acidity of the wine when you breath out with a wicked smile. He barely has time to stop you as you peel yourself away to mingle with the crowds.

Seokjin is about to follow you but Junho pulls him away, flamboyantly introducing his handsome best friend to a group of international models. He turns on his brightest smile, but his heart thunders in his chest at you calling yourself his wife.

...

You twirl around in your dress, nobody noticing the small splash of champagne on the front of it in the quickly changing lights.

“He bought this for me last week. Says it reminds him of the first night we met. Our eyes met across the waters in Tuscany where he was on a business trip. I’ll let you on a little secret, but I was his mistress for a little while.”

Seokjin cannot make out the words you are saying to a small but growing group of people around you. He stands across from Junho, but looks over the latter’s shoulders to watch as you do another spin.

“A little while, Charlotte? Are you still his mistress?” an older lady with an exuberant amount of jewels hanging off her body whispers with a keen interest in your expertly spun story.

Charlotte Dior Laurent, an identity you are pretty sure is an amalgamation of French brands from the top of your mind. You continue to personify this character however.

“Don’t worry. He’s left her since. I know I know, my friends all say the same. ‘He’s already been divorced three times. How can you be sure he won’t leave you?’”

At this point, you are in way over your head at having told this story to at least two other groups and a multitude of other renditions to whomever you have met tonight. But there is something powerful about liquid courage as it courses through your body.

The lady lays a hand on your arm. “I don’t want your heart to break. You are still young.”

Looking up between the heads of your audience, you catch Seokjin’s eyes. They are fiery and it sends a strange sensation up your toes to your abdomen. You give a titillating wave at him in which he does not return.

“He says I’m special and different. How can you say no to that?” you exclaim with exasperation, fully committing to the poor damsel just oh-so in love.

There is a look of genuine concern on the lady’s face at your statement.

Before you can dig yourself a deeper hole, you place your empty glass on the table and excuse yourself. You do not know if it’s the drinking on a relatively empty stomach or if the room is really much warmer due to the multitude of bodies, but you head out to the balcony.

On your way out, you notice that the clock reads twenty minutes past midnight. This gives you a shock at how fast time has passed. Perhaps you should go find Seokjin if you are to get a decent amount of sleep before meeting with Taehyung and Jimin tomorrow. Speaking of Taehyung…

You pull out your phone and see that there are two unread messages. The first is from Jimin, confirming that he is indeed invited to brunch tomorrow morning. The second is a response from Taehyung.

11:09pm “Wow. You have me a little lost for words. I had imagined you’d look nice in the dress but… You really are beautiful.”

Smiling, you type in your response.

12:21am “Thanks, Tae. You’re up late.” You take a picture of the earrings Seokjin had gifted you and attach it to the message. “What do you think of these?”

Barely have you returned your phone into your bag when it buzzes again. This time you receive an attached image. Taehyung seems to be sitting in front of a monitor, as his face glows with a blue light and contorted into a pensive furrow of his brows.

12:21am “A little different from your usual style. Are they new? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear those.”

12:21am “Fei’s out with some friends tonight. She likes when I wait for her to come back before I sleep. To make sure she’s safe, I guess.”

12:22am “Pooey. I should’ve brought you as my plus-one 😩. Also, Seokjin bought them for me for tonight. He says my other earrings are too gaudy.”

12:24am “First name basis 🙃”

12:25am “How is your night going? Having fun?”

You are about give Taehyung a call for a detailed recounting of tonight’s escapades when someone speaks out from within the shadows.

“A penny for your thoughts?” He walks into the moonlight. You flush, meeting the eyes of this particularly dashing gentleman, the phonecall immediately forgotten.

Oh, Alcohol, you make even the smartest of people do dumb shit. And right now, your effects are even worse on this idiot.

Your mouth hangs slightly open as you watch him puff out smoke from his cigar and offer it to you. He brushes up beside you, his fingers trailing up your hand which grips the balcony. You cannot seem to break away from his gaze.

“Lung cancer has an increasing incidence rate particularly for females due to smoking. Are you sure you want to be condoning this type of behaviour?” Seokjin interjects himself between you and your Tuxedo Mask, pushing the outstretched cigar back towards its owner.

There is a small stare down amongst the two men before the latter quietly exits the stage. Your eyes continue to linger on him even as he walks towards another female alone in the night enjoying the outdoor breeze.

“You’ve just ruined by chance. I could have seduced then blackmailed him with the story of his illegitimate child to play Black Widow,” you whine.

Seokjin takes the glass that had somehow magically appeared in your hand during the short walk from inside to outside on the balcony.

“How many have you had since we came?” he asks.

You sigh wistfully, still in your dangerous daydream. “I don’t know. I’ve lost count.” You turn your attention back to him eventually. “What are you doing here? Did you see me with him and get all jealous, hubby?” you tease.

He scoffs, drinking from your glass and pulling a face. Once again, there is that twist and jump within his chest, but he attributes it to whatever nasty concoction he had just ingested. He pours its contents over the railing and into whatever shrubbery lies below. “You seriously went with being my trophy wife?”

You shrug. “Of sorts. You’d better be right about people being too drunk slash not caring about me enough after tonight to remember the things I’ve said. ‘Cuz you’ve been divorced three times, had me along with another as your mistress, I think you’ve sired a few illegitimate children and all in all, a Games of Throne life. Damn, maybe I made you a little too badass.”

“You’re having water for the rest of the night,” he says.

You glare at him, contemplating on making a remark about his equally flushed face but decide against it. Instead, you lean onto the balcony and give a cat stretch. A large sigh escapes from you.

Wordlessly, he shakes off his jacket and places it around your shoulder all the while averting his gaze on the unblemished skin of your upper thighs that had been exposed from your previous movement.

Your blood feels like liquid fire coursing through your veins. Feeling overheated even in the evening breeze, you give him back his jacket. You note his reluctance to meet you even as you throw what could be a thousand dollar jacket in the air to him. “So what’s it like to live like this every day?” you say in wonder. You feel said breeze return and lean over the balcony to catch its chill.

“Like what?” he asks. The warm summer night’s breeze blows through, settling his hair in a childish tousle.

“Like rich,” you say. You sigh again. “Believe it or not, I’m the same age as your birthday boy best friend.

And everything feels absolutely unreal right now. If I hadn’t agreed to come here tonight with you, I’d probably be at another dingy bar knocking back shots with my brother and friend.”

“Are you a secret alcoholic?”

You glare at him. “No,” you state matter-of-factly. “As I was trying to share, this type of lifestyle is something I could ever only imagine. I’m not ungrateful about spending time with them, but at the end of the night I’d go home, sweaty, drunk and gross, and then simply pass out. My bank account might be a couple hundred bucks lighter. Come Monday I’ll be working my ass off just to earn back what I had spent. Then cue the repeating cycle.”

Resting your chin on your palm, your other hand sweeps your hair back behind your ear.

“It’s amazing the difference a few life choices can have.”

Seokjin remains silent beside you. Truthfully, he is at a loss of words. The moonlight plays across your face and caresses your nose down to your lips. You are arching your back once again to pull away the soreness that comes with wearing high heel the entire night. It is just a simple black dress but on you it made you look –

“Well, you’re Mrs. Kim tonight,” he starts.

“Charlotte Dior Laurent,” you correct him.

He raises an eyebrow. “Okay… Ms. Charlotte Dior Laurent. Tonight you get to live like the rich, as you’ve put it. As a rich person, what would you like to do?”

You ponder his question a few moments for the answer. “Hmm…I think I’d like to play golf. It’s a rich person’s sport. I want to play it on a private golf course, wearing cute golfing outfits and talk about million-dollar deals with a client without a care in the world. I want to order sangria by the gallon.”

He laughs out loud. It takes a while for him to be able to speak again, but when he does you feel as if the night has been illuminated a few degrees brighter. “I personally don’t have a private golf course, but Junho does here in his backyard if you’re up for it. I can’t promise cute golfing outfits so you’ll have to do with your wine stained dress. And if you’re really up for it I can pretend to make business deals with you, that’s my job anyways.”

You grin, taking the hand he has offered you. “Call.” The two of you shake upon his suggestion.

As he is leads you by the hand towards the dim gates of said golf course, you tug at him gently. “There’s something missing…” you say.

He shakes his head and pulls you back in towards the party room.

“I’ll see what they have at the bar.”

...

As the hands of the clock continue to spin past another hour, the summer night takes a chilly turn. Seokjin has lent you his jacket but even that cannot stop your fingers from becoming numb. Your hands shake even as they tightly hold the golf club. Seokjin watches you in silence as you prepare to hit the golf ball, a beer in one hand and a few opened bottles littered on the grass beside him. The club hits the ball with a resounding “cling” but does little in propelling it a few centimeters.

“This one doesn’t count,” you announce, “It’s too dark to see anything here.”

Seokjin takes a swig as you readjust your position. You sway in the wind and the last tendrils of your hair come undone in its half up half down hairdo. Your hair now whips wildly around your face when another gust blows through.

“Shit!” you exclaim, missing the ball again. “Why is golfing so hard?!”

You throw your club down and trudge to Seokjin. The six pack the two of you had been sharing has officially been depleted. Seokjin offers you his half empty bottle. This time, you are the one watching as he goes to your spot and effortlessly swings his target into the darkness.

He smirks from the spot.

You grumble. “You’ve had years of practice. Not fair.”

“You’ve got to do better than that, Mrs. Johnson,” he says, teasing you.

Your grumble becomes more audible. You place the now empty bottle on the ground and cross your arms against your chest. Since telling him of your other American alias from tonight, he has not ceased to remind you of your strange choice of name.

“Just so you know, Mrs. Johnson can afford both an affair and the consequential prenup,” you huff.

“It’s still a stupid last name.”

“It’s an American multinational corporation with an income in the billions, okay?”

“Keep telling yourself that if it makes you sleep better at night. Now come on, I’ve got one last ball. Take a swing.”

Groaning, you shuffle over. You wish you had not suggested golf. You had never been good at sports anyways – bad hand-eye coordination.

He stands beside you this time, scrutinizing your every movement with hawk-like eyes. “No, not like that,” he says, “Have a wider stance and bend your knees. Better centre of gravity gives you a better swing. Also hold it with a neutral grip.”

You readjust your positioning following his instructions.

“Index finger down the center. Good. And three knuckles on each hand. No, that’s two. Okay your hands are just weird now. Three. I said three.”

“Stop standing there and show me then, Mr. Know-It-All,” you say, your patience in this makeshift lesson also coming to an end.

He walks closer to you, reaching out for the golf club. He retracts his hands in seeing that you have yet to let go. “You got to – ”

“You can touch me. I did tell you that Mrs. Johnson can afford an affair and prenup. Besides, I’m not going to be able to learn anything if I can’t even see you in this dark.”

He comes behind you and puts a foot between yours to guide your stance. Wrapping his arms around you, he fixes the placement of your hands to grip the shaft of the club in the way he had previously instructed.

Perhaps it is the mixture of wine, champagne and beer offered tonight, but being enveloped in the warmth of this embrace intoxicates you. The tingles that are sent down from his soft breathing on the base of your neck, make you shake like a leaf in the wind.

He inhales the sweet undertones of your perfume. The tendrils of your hair brush against his collarbone, sending a sensual kiss onto his skin. Unconsciously, he draws you closer to him, shielding you from another gust.

“Now you just want to swing,” he says, the words a mixture of a whisper and guttural grunt. His chest rumbles with it, passing the vibration through to your back.

You remain as still as a statue and lean ever so slightly back into him until your entire backside is pressed upon him.

You can’t stop yourself as you ask him, “Do you want to have sex with me?”

...

157 notes · View notes

duskamethyst · 3 years

Text

at last.

a/n: in celebration of reaching 200 followers. thank you. i’ve started this piece months ago but constantly failed to find the will to continue whenever i opened the draft. however, the response i’ve received from my other works gave me the drive and i knew i had to finish this.

word count: 4.1k

genre: smut, nsfw, fluff

pairing: musician!semi x f!reader

warnings: mirror sex, soft dom

summary: you and semi are in a band together. though having feelings for the male, you’ve always kept it professional until one night...

“thank you for tonight! you guys were amazing!” you speak through the mic enthusiastically, waving to the crowd as they cheered on and begging for an encore at the same time. “we hope to see your faces again when we come out with new songs soon! please continue to support us! we love you!” your lips curl into a huge smile, stepping off to the back of the stage while waving your fans goodbye before the staff hands you a towel to wipe off your sweat and a mineral bottle to cool off.

it’s another amazing night in a different city for you and the band. the feeling of having people enjoying your music and your voice is overwhelming and to have such wonderful bandmates to join you in this journey for three years now has you feeling beyond blessed.

the band started small, having the drummer and bassist as your high school besties while the guitarist, semi eita was later picked up along the way when one day you blasted on your socials and the small music stores stating the band needed a new guitar player. your band was pretty well-known in the town you live in, showing up and performing at a few gigs and now you’re much more familiar in the industry and often play in different cities.

semi was one of the few candidates that was chosen to be part of the band. much to everyone’s surprise, playing the guitar wasn’t his only talent. semi was able to write lyrics, produce and sing and that’s what made him stand out among the others. while making the decision with your band mates, you guys knew not to pass up on him and today it proved to be the right decision you guys had made.

to describe semi eita, he’s incredible. a genius and a sight for sore eyes. hell, he could even pass to be a model if he was into it. you knew that his addition to the band could garner more fans through his skills and looks. on his first night at the gig as the guitarist, you noticed how some of the girls there were ogling him and especially recording him through their phones, even the older woman who was practically forced to be there almost every night by her husband paid more attention (and you believed it was because of semi’s presence) as your band performed. maybe the fangirls could start off by drooling over his looks before they could slowly support the band entirely, hence building a bigger fanbase.

you feel a little bad for him. you believe that semi is more than just his looks but you can’t really blame people for liking pretty things– it’s only natural. semi has a burning passion for music and what he does and he works tirelessly for the band. he gives his all when he writes lyrics and he uses most of his time by himself inside the studio, learning and enhancing his skills further. you often accompany him in the studio, offering your opinions when he shares the new lyrics he came up with and the studio would be filled with harmonizing voices of yours and his.

a weird fuzzy feeling engulfs you when you learn that semi had always especially asked for you to join him in the studio and never the other guys, but you alway shrug it off; reminding yourself that it’s only because of work and nothing else.

though no matter how much you try to deny your feelings, you know you’re already head over heels for semi eita.

you sigh and put down your luggage as soon as you walk into your hotel room before looking out at the window to see the fans that were swarming as you arrived earlier begins to dissipate slowly. as you’re smiling and being lost in your thoughts, you start to hear strumming sounds from the other side of the room– undoubtedly semi’s.

it’s way past midnight and you’re all tired from the tour and the recent performance. while all you can think about is getting inside the tub and having a good night sleep, semi on the other hand can only think about the next show and creating new music. though he’s much more new to the industry compared to you, he works so diligently and it makes you feel a bit guilty and shameful. so you decide to come up to his room and see if he needs anything– or maybe just to persuade him to stop thinking about work and go to sleep.

“eita, it’s me.” you say as you knock on his door. you hear the strums come to a halt before he opens the door for you. “gosh, you look terrible.”

it’s only partly true. his hair is disheveled and he only has his jeans on from earlier but you try so hard not to check him out and quickly walk inside his room. semi closes the door as he turns to you, “you’re not asleep yet?”

“no, i heard you were playing and that’s why i’m here. you know you should be sleeping instead, right?” you sit on the couch where he was sitting earlier. sheets of paper are spread on the coffee table and you pick up the one with the lyrics that he wrote.

“sorry,” he apologizes as he sits next to you and notices the one that you’re reading. “but it’s good that you’re here too.”

ignoring the little skip your heart made, you refuse to look at him and read one of the lines out loud in an attempt to play cool.

“i’m alone,

“i just wrote that one in the van earlier.” he scratches the back of his neck as he laughs nervously. his eyes never tearing from you, just watching while you scrutinize through his little work.

i’ve nowhere to go,

but you gently held my hand.”

you smile as you finish reading the last line of his incomplete lyrics and turn to look at him, “i wonder what it sounds like?”

“ah, i haven’t figured it out much but i think it could go like this.” he grabs the guitar from where he left earlier and places it in front of his chest before slowly strumming a few chords. you watch as his fingers sweep up and down across the strings, his black nails that you painted weeks ago are only left with little residues.

it sounds exactly like you heard in your room earlier. his voice and the tunes he’s making fills the room and it sounds absolutely beautiful. you can sense the longingness in his work this time around, a little different from what he used to play but a little change doesn’t really mean bad– it feels like something that many people can relate to.

you gleefully clap your hands as he stops playing and a faint blush creeps up to his cheeks which he hopes you don’t notice.

“what’s your inspiration this time?” you ask as he puts back down the instrument.

“well…” semi sighs and leans further into the couch. “someone special to me– the reason i started pursuing this.”

a heavy lump suddenly forms in your throat, making your stomach churn at the thought of semi having someone special in mind but you quickly shake off the feeling. you’ve always been close with the male, he was easy to get along with from the start and semi would agree that out of all the members, he spent the most time with you; though it's only because it’s strictly on a work basis and you respect that, and you remain professional.

“must be. you’ve never written anything so personal but tell me all about it! you know i won’t judge.” you force a smile, hoping that it’s not too obvious and instead semi laughs at your eagerness to know about his little puppy love.

“it’s not even that great. i feel like it’s rather ironic– the reason i pursue this is also the reason we can’t be together.” he looks at you as he speaks, as if searching for something.

“damn, that sucks so bad.” you lean back to the couch with him and gaze at the ceiling while imagining the type of person semi would like and start to mindlessly compare yourself to them– putting you down even further.

“you get it, right? on top of that, i think we would lose some fans if we start to date.” he continues as he rests his arm behind your head in a more relaxing manner. he hopes that he emphasized the word clearly so he could get a reaction from you.

however, you only laugh a bit at his consideration. you can already imagine the online articles being bombarded about semi being in a relationship, not forgetting the snarky remarks and lashes he and his partner might get on stan twitter and the thought makes you shudder.

“but i would want to see you happy... even if it’s not with me.” you mumble lowly before realizing what you just blurt out on the last part. “i mean- i mean- i was thinking from a fan’s point of view, of course!”

the sight of you being bashful and constantly avoiding to make eye contact with him is endearing to him. he can’t help but to laugh and it provokes him to tease you instead. his hand creeps up to pull and tuck away the strands of hair behind your ear, instantly drawing your attention to the male next to you. you’re waiting for him to speak but he only stares quietly at you with a gentle smile across his face.

“what?” you’re surprised at how meek you sound and you know he notices it when his smile turns into an amused shit-eating grin.

“really? you’d be happy for me?” he asks, leaning his head down on the arm he has hanging on the couch back.

“um, yeah? since you’re my–”

“friend?” he cuts you off in an instant. “i’d be happier to at least know that you’d feel jealous, though.”

jealous? you blink and nervously laugh at the poor joke, “why would i be– you’re funny. anyways, go to sleep!”

semi’s lips tug into a frown as you stand up from the couch and when you’re about to take a step away, semi grabs your wrist and pulls you back to him. he wraps his arms securely around you and buries his face at the nape of your neck, inhaling the very faint scent from your expensive perfume you had on before the show.

“you’re so close, yet so far.” his hot breath fans against your skin as he murmurs with a hint of frustration lacing his voice.

thinking not too deeply into it, you disregard the butterflies in your stomach, “yeah, i think you can put that in the song.” you attempt to reply coyly, concealing any suggestions of you being a total nerve-wreck right now.

“god dammit.” semi curses. he turns your face to look at his, “this isn’t about work anymore.”

“what–” he presses his lips on yours and his arms pull you closer to him which your body wastes no time but to completely melt into.

semi pulls away to take a breath, locking his brown eyes with yours as he speaks. “stop making me feel so lonely.”

“i’m… sorry…?” your apology comes out unsurely, not knowing where this conversation is leading up to and it’s making you feel apprehensive more than anything. there’s no way he’s confessing, right?

semi sighs as he runs his fingers through your hair, “i used to only play the guitar as a hobby but you’re the reason why i even thought about getting into this band.”

you’re out of words to speak from the abruptness and remain quiet before he continues, “i thought i’d be happy enough just being close to you but i realized i wanted more than that. am i being selfish?”

you break free from his grasps and turn to the blushing male before curling into his chest. semi’s body is still as he processes what’s happening and slowly relaxes as he wraps his arms around you again.

“no, eita, no. you’re not.” you reassure. “i really had no idea.”

“then, can i kiss you again?”

“whatever you want, eita.” you mutter under your breath before he gently cups your chin with his fingers and pulls you into a deep kiss.

for the second time that night, you feel as if you’re on cloud nine as your wet tongues twirl against each other in your mouths. a faint taste of tobacco and beer still lingers on his tongue but you pay no mind to it when you’re too busy drowning into your own ecstasy.

semi manages to push you down on your back without breaking the kiss and props on his knees before his hands wander all around your body. a gasp passes your lips when he squeezes your breasts against your shirt and his lips move down to nip on your neck.

“e-eita...” you breathe and the male pulls away to look at you with heavy lidded eyes– and they’re filled with desire.

“whatever i want, right?” he whispers and you nod your head before he delves back down to litter bruises on your skin. “and what i want is you.”

warmth surfaces on your cheeks as you hum in response, a subtle reply to tell him that the feeling is mutual. as soon as semi lifts up your shirt, he quickly tips down to tug your bra and latches his mouth on your hardened nipple while his fingers tweak the other. the stimulation causes your body to jolt in pleasure and you can practically feel yourself drenching in your panties.

semi glances up at you expectantly when he notices your thighs are pressed together underneath him. with his other free hand, he lifts up your denim skirt and rubs circles on your clit against the damped fabric.

you mewl and tug his hair gently as your hips desperately grind against his finger for relief.

“does it feel good?” he speaks softly. “you’re so wet for me.”

“y-yeah.” you mumble a little bit in embarrassment after he pointed it out but semi finds it to be endearing as he lets out a breathy chuckle.

“i’ll make you feel even better,” he grins, bending your knees up and spreading them apart. “but i need to hear it.”

you nibble your lip anxiously, “please?”

“please what?” he coos, though he’s already settling his head down between your thighs while he looks at you with passion filled eyes.

your lips feign a pout but your pussy twitches when you feel his finger pulls your panties to the side, “please make me feel better.”

“good enough.” he smirks before spreading your puffy folds and sticks out his tongue to lap off your essence.

a loud moan rips from your throat as he sucks on your clit and purposely teases it with quick flicks with the tip of his tongue. your legs start to tremble and try to close together but to no avail since semi holds them apart from crushing his head.

there were nights where he could only touch himself while imagining how you would sound like writhing underneath him but tonight, you made his dreams turn into reality. your moans and whines are like music to his ears and they’re better (and he knows it would be) than what he expected. now semi is driven even more to hear what more beautiful sounds you can produce for him.

semi groans when he slips one finger inside your tight hole and you cry in surprise as you feel his finger brushing in and out through your walls. he can feel that the walls are already sucking him greedily while your hips jerk to fuck yourself with his finger.

“god, you’re so fucking hot.” he grunts, inserting another finger and fucks you ruthlessly. you can feel your orgasm building and threatening to tip over when his finger curls, hitting your g with every drag.

“fuck, eita–” you pant as your toes curl over the unbearable stimulation and causes your body to shake.

“feels great, hm? i want you to cum all over my fingers.” he toys with the swollen bud before harshly sucking it.

“mmhh– gonna cum!” your eyes screw shut as your orgasm finally crashes down and your pussy gushes and flutters around his fingers.

your breathing turns erratic and a whine escapes your lips from the emptiness when semi pulls out to lick his fingers.

“you taste so fucking good.” he groans, hovering above you and crashes his lips onto yours so you can taste your own juices from his tongue before he pulls away breathlessly.

“i want to make you feel good too, eita.” you whisper almost innocently and push him back so he can sit down on the couch. semi watches you as you kneel beside him to unbuckle his belt and proceed to unbutton and unzip his jeans swiftly before he helps you release his throbbing dick from its confinements.

you nearly gawk at the size of his cock; thick and veiny, tip flushing red with a bead of precum. you give a few strokes with your hand and a sharp hiss rolls off his tongue as soon as he feels your tongue swirling around the slit and slowly taking a fair amount inside your mouth.

“fuuuuck.” he sighs as he sinks into his seat further, eyes closed shut as he lets you take over. you offer the pressure needed by pressing the bottom of the length with your hand and hollowing your cheeks while your tongue runs up and down the rest of his cock, slobbering it with your saliva.

“oh, fuck– baby. that feels so fucking good.” tears prickle from the corner of your eyes when you force yourself to take deeper into your mouth and his hips jerk when the tip hits the back of your throat. semi’s hand finds itself on top of your head; he makes sure not to tug your hair too hard as he guides you bottom to top and a pop sound is audible when he pulls you away just before he feels like he’s about to cum.

he wipes the tears from your eyes and kisses you while pulling his jeans and boxers all the way down before continuing to carry you off from the couch with him and leads you to his bed.

“can i?” he looks at you concerningly and you nod your head yes.

“take it all off.” he commands once he puts you down on the bed. what seemed to be the gentle semi is long gone but his dominating side makes you undeniably excited so you easily oblige, peeling off your clothes until you’re bare and naked in front of him.

“on your knees.” he orders again and you submissively get on your knees but he stops you before you can lean down on the bed. “face the mirror.”

you turn your head to see the large mirror in front of the bed and shift again as he climbs on the bed and props behind you.

“i want us both to see how pretty you look when i’m balls deep inside you.” he grins.

a soft mewl rolls off your tongue when semi smears your juices through your slits with his cock. he grabs your hips for leverage as he slowly penetrates into your hole and you bite your lip hard when you can feel his girth stretches you out both painfully and deliciously. semi gives you a moment to adjust and after receiving the green light does he begin to move his hips.

“i’ve waited so long for this.” he growls, black nails digging deeper into your skin that'll be able to leave crescent marks by the end of the session as he pounds his cock into your cunt erratically.

your cheek is pressed down and your hands clutch the bed sheet as you feel his veins brushing against your walls and his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust. semi’s breathing is already ragged from above you, hips diligently rolling into you as he picks up the pace.

“look at you, baby– fuck– i’m so lucky.” you moan at the praise, subconsciously feeding to your ego; to be desired by semi and to have semi fucking you into oblivion.

“s-so good.” you whine, glancing up to the mirror to see yourself but what you’re mostly able to see is the man behind you. his toned abs, ash blonde bangs almost covering his eyes and brows furrowed in focus as he ruts into you mercilessly like a feral beast and it’s fueling your arousal even further.

a mischievous smile etches on his lips as his hazy eyes light up once they meet yours through the reflection, “i don’t think you can see yourself that well.”

you feel your body being lifted up abruptly before he makes you stand on your knees with your back against his broad chest. in front of you, you can clearly see the mess he has made out of you; hair unkempt, pussy slopping and dripping down his balls and the sheets from where your bodies are connected.

“better.” he smirks through the mirror. both of your eyes fixed on the reflected image ahead; your tits bouncing up and down as he continues to thrust into you while his arm wraps around your torso to hold you in place.

“so– pretty. my baby– my muse.” he says in between grunts and takes one hand to cup your face. “can you see my cock go in and out of you?” semi intends to show you how lewd it looks by pulling out his thick cock slowly and pushing back inside your pussy in an agonizing pace.

“yes, fuck– eita.” you sob, staring at the mirror ahead as you see his cock glistens with slick when he pulls out from your stretched cunt and fills you back in, edging you at the same time.

“and what happens when i touch you here?” he coos, reaching down to press your clit with his thumb. a shock of pleasure washes through your body, making your eyes roll back and your head thrown back to his shoulder. “come on, you can tell me.”

“it’s-it’s gonna make m-me cum.” you whimper as your hips roll desperately against his finger and each time he plunges into you.

“and you’re gonna sing my name when you do, right?”

“yesyesyes– please, just–” semi cuts you off by continuing his pace again and the knot in your stomach tightens at the feeling of being stuffed full when he rams deep inside you along with his ministrations on your throbbing bud.

his other hand pinches your pebbled nipple and causes you to keen in pleasure and you finally open your eyes to look at the mirror again to see the compromising position you’re in and the way he manhandles you; having absolute control all over your squirming body with both his hands and his cock– and it got your vision turning white as you tip over the edge.

“eita!” your lips part into a scream as your pussy flutters around his cock and come undone. the walls squeezing him elicits a low growl from his throat and he holds your body with both his arms as he remains to fuck you in order to chase after his own high.

“fuck– that’s it.” he kisses your head when you let out a choke from the overstimulation. “i’m gonna fill this pretty pussy.” sporadic thrusts begin to stutter as his balls tighten and his cock twitches inside you to indicate that he’s close to reaching his orgasm and a loud moan rips from his throat as he finally comes undone.

semi stills for a few moments inside you, catching his breath and regaining composure before he lifts your body slightly to pull out his softening cock. your trembling knees fail to keep you up so your body falls down on the mattress and semi chuckles at the sight as he joins next to you.

“you did so good for me, love.” his sharp, brown eyes gazes adoringly into yours and a soft smile tugs the corner of his lips as he caresses your hair. “was i too rough?”

“just a little,” you blush. “but i liked it.”

semi sighs in relief and draws closer to give a chaste kiss on your forehead, “i’ll run a warm bath for you, alright? then we can go to sleep.”

you nod your head, feeling warm and fuzzy when he holds you in his strong arms before he leaves for the bathroom. as you wait and hear water filling the tub, your mind wanders how you’re going to break the news to your manager about your blossoming relationship with semi.

and semi thinks about the same thing too.

whatever it is, it doesn’t matter to him.

as long as he has you.

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